#I hate leaving the house and seeing all the land that's being sold that I know is going to get clear cut and seeing a marshy winter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bimrwolf · 3 years ago

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Promise? to Leave the Window Cracked Open

steve harrington x afab!reader words: 14,379 warnings: mentions of cancer (minor details of aftermath of treatments), minor character death, implied smut summary: Dealing with his father's presistance that he become a perfect son and being told he can't be "just friends" with girls, Steve has to learn the hard way that being popular is not what it's cut out to be. Growing up is a lot harder than it looks. a/n: i'm not *entirely* happy with this piece but my friend told me to post it anyway. so here you all go!!!

The red brick house at the corner of Dearborn Street had gone through many inhabitants. There was the weird Gibson family whose grandfather lived with them, occasionally he stood on the front porch in nothing but his house shoes. Then there were the Weirs. Their kids always came to school smelling of salami. Finally, there was the Lyons. The small town life did not set well with Mrs. Lyon, forcing her husband to sell the home after two months of living there, leaving the red brick house up for sale once again.

One day when Steve Harrington was in the back of his father’s car, playing with two green army men, he noticed the large SOLD covering the for sale sign that had been up there for exactly seven months and three days. The next day, there was a car parked outside, boxes in the driveway, and a woman yelling at two children running in the freshly mowed grass.

A week later, while his dad was at work, his mom drove them to the red brick house. She knocked on the door, a casserole in her hand, looking down at her son, straightening the collar of his shirt.

A woman with a bright smile answered the door, greeting the two enthusiastically.

The two women began to talk and five minutes turned into ten.

They weren’t paying attention so he wandered off into the yard, noticing a few toys strewn about. The summer sun beamed down on the back of his head as he hopped on the stepping stones next to the rose bushes.

His ears perked up when he heard shouting around the corner of the house.

He looked behind him, his mother still in deep conversation. Curiosity built inside of him, peeking around the corner he saw a younger boy covered in mud, looking up at the side of the house. Steve followed his gaze, catching the sight of a girl leaning out a window, holding a wooden sword that was pointed towards the boy. “The treasure is mine.” The girl proclaimed.

“Come on, Y/n. I wanna play something else.” The boy complained, kicking up some of the mud at his feet. There was a water hose laying a few feet away from him.

The girl, Y/n, sighed. “Please, Aaron. Mom made her peach cobbler tonight and I’ll let you have my slice if you play.”

“That doesn’t matter. You hate peach cobbler.” He crossed his arms. Steve could see her pucker her lip and bat her eyes. Aaron groaned, holding up a sword himself, unenthusiastically. “Come down and fight me you coward. The jeweled crown will be mine.”

“Arrrggh!” Steve watched in bewilderment as Y/n stepped out of the window and onto the ledge, climbing down on the lattice panel that was covered in dead vines. Steve gasped when the small girl misplaced her foot, causing her to fall on the ground. She landed with a thud.

He was amazed she didn’t cry or scream.

He remembered two days ago when he had stepped on one of his toy race cars and cried for twenty minutes, maybe longer if his dad had not come home.

The girl looked up, locking eyes with Steve. She smiled at him, revealing her two front teeth that were missing, quickly pushing her body up and pointing the sword in his direction. “What do we have here?”

Steve cowered behind the corner, his cheeks were red, too shy to answer.

“Another pirate looking for the crown, eh? Looks like you have no weapon but that stick by yer foot.” Y/n pointed to a long thick stick that had fallen off the oak tree next to her house.

Steve stepped where they could see him. “M-my mom will be upset if I get mud on my shirt.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Pirates don’t listen to their mommies.”

Her brother spoke up. “Mom did tell us not to get dirty before-”

“Shut up.” She scrunched her nose up, examining Steve up and down. His hair was short and slicked back. His teeth were too big for his mouth. A few freckles were scattered on his face. “What’s yer name, matey?”

“S-Steve.”

“Pirate Steve?” Aaron laughed.

Y/n nudged him to be quiet. “That’s a lame pirate name, but it will do. When you’ve been sailing the seas as long as I have, you’ll come up with something better. Now, Pirate Steve, you will have to fight us both to the death if yer want the treasure.” The two siblings held up their weapons higher, mutually deciding to team up to fight the strange boy in their yard. Y/n took the first step toward him, her brother close behind. Finally, the tip of her sword was only inches away from his chest.

Steve noticed the dried up mud caking her cheek, but she didn’t seem to care.

Steve looked down at the stick, then looked back up at the siblings, then over to where his mom once stood. She had gone inside once the two mothers saw their children were talking.

Y/n leaned her head closer to him, breaking character. “Promise to not get mud on you.” She held out her pinky, and he hesitantly took it, watching with wide eyes when she kissed her thumb, telling him that’s what seals it. So, Steve also kissed his thumb. “Have any last words?” She asked, pointing the sword at his neck.

Without a beat, Steve picked up the stick, swinging it against hers. The three of them chased each other in the yard, yelling, giggling, and clanking the wooden objects against one another. When finally, Steve had softly tapped Y/n on the side of her stomach with the sword, declaring he had killed her. She did not accept the defeat, arguing that Steve had cheated. When Steve wouldn’t let her continue on, she balled up her fist with one hand and shoved him with the other, so hard he fell backwards in the mud.

Soon, the three kids were talking over one another in the kitchen of Y/n’s house, trying to explain to their mothers what had happened. It was clear that Steve’s mom was irritated that her son’s shirt was dirty, but still put a fake smile on, claiming kids will be kids. Then she grabbed the ten-year-old’s hand, said goodbye, and took them back home.

Two days later, Y/n and her mother had shown up to the Harrington household. Steve was forced to come downstairs and stand in the doorway so the toothless girl could apologize. It was obvious she wasn’t that sorry, but when she revealed a wooden sword from behind her back, telling him that he could come play pirates with her anytime, a toothy grin spread across his face.

That afternoon she also promised her window would be cracked open for him to call her to come down and play.

Although Steve and Y/n had outgrown playing pirates together, the pair never seemed to separate. Their families thought maybe it would have been Steve and Aaron that ended up childhood best friends, but Y/n’s mom sometimes would have to beg them to include him in the things the two older kids did.

The evening before the first day of middle school, Steve had convinced his parents to let him go over to Y/n’s, promising to be home before dark.

The bike ride was only fifteen minutes, plenty of time to see his best friend before their big day.

Two years had gone by since he first met Y/n. Their yard was decorated differently. Her mother had exchanged roses for petunias, hydrangeas, and lilies. There was now a tire swing on the big oak tree. Aaron used to make Steve push him so hard that he went so high that he almost wrapped around the big branch.

Steve got off his bike, setting it in the lawn, walking past the front door and over to the side of the house. He smiled when he saw the window cracked open slightly, Dreams by Fleetwood Mac drifting out.

Her parents had accepted the fact Steve had no intentions of using the front door, never surprised to see him in her room if they opened the bedroom door. They would just ask if he wanted anything to drink, and he would always ask for a Dr. Pepper. No one in the household drank Dr. Peppers, but they always had a case just for him.

Steve climbed up the lattice panel, the old vines had been ripped off. When he got a view of the inside of her room, he expected to see her reading or painting her toenails. Instead, she was in front of her dresser, throwing clothes behind her, groaning loudly. A messy room wasn’t shocking, Y/n was always getting in trouble for never cleaning it. But the sight Steve was looking at was horrific. “Are you rearranging?” Steve asked, sliding the window up, crawling through.

Y/n didn’t seem phased that he had shown up unannounced. “What are you wearing tomorrow?”

“I dunno.” He answered, smiling because there was already a Dr. Pepper can on her desk.

“I forget. Your mommy still dresses you.” She teased him.

She loved to poke fun on how much of a momma’s boy he was. “Why are you worried about clothes?”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s the first day of middle school.”

“So? It’s no different than fifth grade.” Steve shrugged, taking a sip of his Dr. Pepper.

“To you! I spent the night at Tammy Thompson’s last night. Tina is a B cup now and Carol had her first kiss at summer camp.” The girl pulled out a pair of shorts, sighing when she saw the tag.

“That stuff doesn’t matter, Y/n.” He downed the rest of the drink, belching loudly. He started to giggle, but quickly stopped when Y/n gave him a disapproving look. He frowned. She always laughed when he burped.

“No girl is gonna kiss you if you do gross things like that.” Y/n put a hand on her hip.

Steve still didn’t understand why his friend was making a big deal about clothes, other girls, or kissing. Why did any of it matter if they had one another? “I could be your first kiss.” Maybe if they kissed then maybe she would stop worrying about it.

Y/n’s expression didn’t falter. It was like she hadn’t heard him. “Very funny, Steve. Kissing you would be gross.”

When Steve had rode his bike back home— after finally convincing Y/n to wear the dress his mom had bought her for her birthday— he kept thinking about how she had reacted to the idea of kissing him.

What made him gross?

He was one of the cleanest boys at school. He took a bath every night, and his mom started making him wear deodorant. His hair was nice and neat. He didn’t eat his boogers like Tommy Hagan or ate dirt like Reed Booker. He’s never even had lice before.

Had she even thought about it before? Did she lay awake thinking what if she and Steve kissed? Is that when she came to the conclusion kissing him would be gross?

He couldn’t even sleep properly that night, tossing and turning, irritated that Y/n decided to make these thoughts appear in his head.

It was so stupid. He didn’t even think about kissing girls until now.

Then it seemed like seventh grade came in a blink of an eye. Steve’s dad was getting harsher about grades and what Steve’s plans were for extracurriculars. “A good Harrington boy is well-rounded, who doesn’t run around and play pretend.” He would tell him at dinner, whenever he wasn’t away on business trips. He had recently been promoted at work, making him less and less available to stay home. When he was home, he was always sitting in his office, smoking a cigarette, yelling on the phone.

But one good thing about seventh grade was that he had changed. It seemed like he had gone to sleep one night and woke up the next day two feet taller. His clothes were too small and sometimes he found himself tripping over his new long legs.

Girls were starting to put letters in his locker, and sometimes he caught them giggling on the other side of the gym during PE, watching him play basketball. He would blush when the other boys would nudge him, pointing out which girls they thought were cute. His attention would then turn to Y/n, standing in a corner by herself jump roping, obviously annoyed that the other girls were gawking at him.

Steve didn’t understand that she had no friends except for him. All the girls pretended to be friends with her and then they would ask about Steve. Steve this. Steve that. Quite honestly, she was sick and tired of them always talking about her friend. There wasn’t anything even spectacular about him. He still had too large teeth for his face and he always burped or gave her wet willies. When Y/n fed them the answers they wanted, they’d never speak to her again. She never told him that was the main reason she stopped going over to Tammy’s slumber parties.

Steve on the other hand, didn’t mind the attention. His new popularity with the girls changed his social status with the guys as well. Soon, he was roped in with Tommy Hagan and spent his lunch period, sneaking off in the woods by the school to smoke cigarettes with one other boy, Carter Adams.

One particular chilly day, Tommy shushed them when he heard giggling coming from their spot. They all hid behind the wall that bordered the school, peering over to see two high schoolers making out against a tree.

Steve immediately felt uncomfortable, whispering they should probably go, but Tommy grabbed him by his jacket, pulling him back. “Ten bucks says he’ll grab her tit.” Tommy told the boys.

“Ten bucks he’ll grab her ass.” Carter challenged.

“What about you Harrington?” Tommy asked, looking at him with a smirk. “Tits or ass?”

Steve shrugged, glancing nervously back at the school, praying a teacher would catch them so he could get out of the situation. “I dunno.”

“Have you even kissed a girl before?” It had been known that Tommy had kissed lots of girls.

Steve looked at the ground, shaking his head, regretting telling the truth when Tommy and Carter laughed quietly. “What about your girlfriend?” Tommy raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

Carter poked his side. “He’s talkin’ ‘bout that girl you’re always with. Have you kissed her?”

“Y/n? She’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends.” Steve answered.

The two boys next to him exchanged a knowing look, trying to hold in another fit of laughter. “Boys and girls cannot just be friends, Harrington.”

Steve furrowed his brows. He didn’t understand why it was so wrong to be friends with her. She wasn’t mean. Except the other day she did smack him upside the head because he put his armpit in her face. He understood he had it coming.

He should have told the boys he didn’t care what body part the high schooler grabbed. But he knew if he didn’t say anything, they’d stop wanting to hang out with him. He peeked back over the wall to see the couple again. “Tits.”

A part of him regretted participating in the bet, mostly because he had lost ten bucks, but also because it seemed to be the rite of passage to be personally invited to Tommy’s girls and boys party the next Friday.

Steve was nervous. He had only been to birthday parties with parents watching their children closely as they swam in the pool or played on the swing sets at the park. This was different.

Tommy’s parents were out of town, his big brother in charge and Tommy gave him two months worth of allowance to buy everyone beers and keep quiet.

He kept looking over at Y/n, who was walking next to him, pulling down the uncomfortable itchy yellow dress she decided to wear. “Did you really have to wear that? You look like Big Bird.” Steve poked the puffy sleeve, warranting a slap from her.

“Shut up, or I’m going home.” She warned him.

“You can’t because you promised.”

Steve had climbed through her window, begging her to come with him. He had to lie to her that Tommy wanted her to come. She still wasn’t convinced, but agreed nevertheless.

“Maybe fun for you. You’re cool in their eyes.” She crossed her arms and pursed her lips.

“Once they get to know you they’ll see how cool you are too. Listen, we’ll stay an hour tops and if you are ready to leave, we’ll go. I promise.” He stopped walking, looking at the white house that belonged to Tommy. He stuck out his pinky towards the girl.

She gave him an unimpressed look. His attempt to pull the pinky swear trick they used to do three years ago was a cheap gimmick on his part, knowing she was a sucker for nostalgia. She tried her best not to break, but when he leaned forward, looking at her with his wide brown eyes and toothy grin made her roll her eyes, sighing in defeat. She wrapped her pinky around his and they both brought their thumbs to their lips, locking the promise in place.

Tommy’s brother was the one who answered the door, leading them to the door of the basement.

Y/n scrunched her nose up when the smell of cigarettes and beer greeted them at the top of the stairs. Steve decided to ignore it, walking down the creaking wooden steps. When Tommy saw him, he immediately jumped up from an old battered brown couch, announcing the arrival to everyone in the room. He tilted his head slightly, frowning when he saw trailing behind Steve. He quickly wrapped an arm around Steve’s shoulder, pulling him to the side away from the girl. “I told you not to bring her, Harrington. The girls here are gonna think you two are a thing.”

Steve looked over at Y/n. She was looking over at a group of girls huddled in a corner, looking between her and him, whispering. “Tommy, give her a chance. She’s cool and really funny when you get to know her.”

The lanky boy whose breath already smelled like beer and cigarettes sighed, agreeing to let her stay. He then turned around, clasping his hands together dramatically, announcing it was time to play truth or dare. Steve felt his heart drop in his chest, looking over at Y/n who seemed to still be observing the room and the people that filled the space up. She always did that before interacting with anyone, studying them quickly in her mind.

He was about to tell Tommy he didn’t feel good and had to go home, but was shocked to see Y/n confidently walk towards the circle forming on the floor, plopping down next to a boy he didn’t recognize. Steve gulped, deciding to sit between Carter and Tina.

The rules were simple, either tell the truth or do the dare and if anyone chickened out, they had to take a drink.

Secrets were spilled, kisses were exchanged, someone was dared to lick the bottom of Carter’s foot, but no one was chicken enough to take the first sip. The longer Steve sat on the cold concrete floor of the basement, the longer it felt sticky, hot, and damp. The air was almost suffocating as he anticipated his name to be drawn out of Christopher Smith’s baseball cap. When his name finally did get drawn, it took him a moment to process when Carol had said it.

He knew Tommy would give him shit if he said ’truth’ but he was afraid of what Carol might ask him to do. “D-dare.”

Carol smirked, sharing a look with Tommy. “I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” It dawned on him that this party had been a set up the entire time. Tommy was throwing Steve into the lion’s den, forcing him to finally catch up with the rest of the grade and kiss someone. But Steve had never thought about anyone in the room like that before. Sure Heather Holloway was cute, but once in second grade she threw up on his new pair of shoes. He could still smell the fish sticks burning in his nostrils.

Then there was Beth Johnson, she wore braces and was always wiping dripping saliva off her chin. No way.

Carol was pretty, but Tommy had a crush on her.

Which meant the only two girls left were Tina and Y/n.

He tried to see how Y/n felt, maybe she would give him the face that said “Kiss me Steve!” But there was no sign whatsoever of what she wanted him to do. He remembered a year ago when he had suggested being each other’s first kiss, but she was revolted by the idea, telling him kissing him would be gross. He remembered from then on, he couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to kiss her.

Carol had said he had to kiss the prettiest girl in the room. To him, Y/n was by far prettier than any of them. The longer he looked at her, the more he began to admire her features. Her puffy cheeks, her nose, the way her eyes gleamed from the bright yellow dress she wore. The other girls in the room looked so dull compared to her.

He debated the consequence of taking a sip of the beer to get out of it.

The choice was so simple and easy to him, but he was confused. Y/n was his best friend, he couldn’t think of her like that. He most definitely couldn’t kiss her either.

So instead of crawling across the circle to kiss her, he turned and gave Tina a quick peck on the lips.

The basement erupted in hoots and hollers, making Steve blush.

It was Steve’s turn to pick a name. When he reached in the hat, he frowned, realizing there was only one piece of paper left– Y/n. Her face was still stoic. “Y/n, truth or dare?” He asked her, mind buzzing with what he should say.

He should have known she would pick dare, never backing away from a challenge. However, a few minutes passed by, struggling to come up with anything. He looked at Carol for help, who immediately accepted. “Write down the name of the one person you want to kiss in this room, then put a blindfold on and wait for them in the closet.” She pointed to the closet that went under the stairs.

Y/n didn’t hesitate once, scribbling a name on a piece of paper that was handed to her, standing up to give it to Carol who then put a bandana over her eyes and walked her to the closet. Steve watched her disappear inside, almost immediately Carol put a hand over her mouth when she shut the door. “Where’s Rosie?”

It had happened all so fast. Tommy had gone upstairs, bringing back his pet beagle. Steve was confused, until Carol and the other girls let Rosie lick their hands. Tommy started towards the closet door. Steve jumped forward, blocking his way. “What are you doing?”

“Giving her a kiss to remember.” He tried to step around him, but Steve stepped back in front of him. Tommy scowled, narrowing his eyes. “Always knew you were a pussy, Harrington.”

Steve swallowed, feeling like he was drowning in thick molasses. “No, I was just volunteering.” He stuck out his arms.

Tommy smirked, looking back at the others.

Everything seemed to go slow, Rosie being put in his arms, the closet door creaking open, taking heavy steps inside. Even when they closed the door, his back hitting against it, darkness enveloping the room, Rosie whimpering, he was still able to see Y/n in the bright yellow dress. Like the sun.

She tilted her head up, the black bandana covering her eyes. Steve walked closer to her, taking in the smell of mothballs, dust, and copper. When he crouched down, the closet scent faded away. Y/n’s sweet honeysuckle fragrance and mint toothpaste overtook it.

He knew what Tommy and the others wanted him to do. But being this close to her, led him to put the dog down who immediately found a place in her lap. She giggled when Rosie licked her hand repeatedly.

Steve reached out, putting his hand on her shoulder, letting the tulle of the puffy sleeve scratch against his fingers.

“Are you gonna kiss me or what?” He almost wanted to laugh at how bored she sounded.

He should tell her what was going on, that an hour had passed and it was time to go. When they got back to her house, they could laugh about how ridiculous seventh grade was. Maybe they should have never hung up their wooden swords and eye patches. He didn’t want to grow up and do the things that Tommy Hagan did.

However, she licked her lips and he realized from the way his tummy flipped and breath hitched in his throat, he couldn’t stop from growing up.

He leaned forward, pressing his lips on hers, tender and saccharine.

He pulled back, smiling, lifting the blindfold up, catching her eyes with his.

“You’re not Tommy.” Y/n’s eyebrows creased.

Steve didn’t understand why she looked disappointed.

He didn’t have time to ask because the door swung open. The two quickly shot up, eyes wide like kids who had their hands in the cookie jar. Rosie barked, running out of the closet. “Wait a minute… did you two kiss?” Carol snickered.

Steve saw the piece of paper in the blonde’s hand, suddenly remembering that Y/n was asked to write down who she wanted to kiss, making out the cursive ‘T’ in her neat handwriting.

She wanted to kiss Tommy. Not him.

He clenched his jaw, balling up his fist as they laughed at them, ignoring the look on her face, silently asking if he was going to say something. “Me? Kiss her?” He scoffed.

He noticed the way Y/n’s mouth fell open, shocked he had said that.

“Rosie took one sniff of Y/n’s dog breath and cried. I wasn’t gonna take a chance.” He instantly regretted the words leaving his mouth when he saw his friend clench her jaw, eyes glossy as she fought the tears forming.

Someone made a comment about being able to smell her breath from across the room, and soon the others chided in, all laughing at the made up lie that Steve couldn’t take back.

Y/n had stormed past him, exiting the closet. The others started making barking noises as she ran up the stairs, bending over in laughter when they heard the front door slam shut.

Later that night, Steve had to retrieve his bike back from Y/n’s, having left it there so they could walk to the party together. He had worked on his apology on the walk back from Tommy’s, even picking zinnias out of The Wheeler’s garden for her. But when he walked over to her window he felt his mouth go dry.

Her light was on, but the window was sealed shut and the bubblegum pink curtains were closed.

The next week, Y/n didn’t come to school.

Steve tried to go over to her house and apologize, and every day her window was shut. He even knocked on the front door, her mom telling him Y/n wasn’t feeling good or wasn’t home. Which he knew was a lie, because one day he saw her peeking through the blinds in the living room.

When she did come to school, kids barked at her in the hallway until the principal sat everyone in the gymnasium to speak about bullying and if any of the teachers caught them making dog noises at any student, they would be suspended for a week. The principal tried to keep Y/n’s name out of it, but everyone was looking at her, knowing.

Two days later was when Y/n finally acknowledged him.

He was alone at his locker, cramming answers for a quiz he was about to take for math. His locker slammed shut. He jumped up, locking eyes with her. She looked like she had just been crying, eyes red and puffy, shoving a box against his chest. “Tell your friends they’re so funny.” Steve looked down to see the contents. There was a toothbrush, cheap toothpaste, and a dog bone tied in a red bow.

He gulped, not sure what to say to her, the rehearsed apology slipping from his mind. When he noticed Carter lingering by, pretending to tie his shoes, Steve felt himself speaking before thinking. “Maybe next time we should get you a shock collar.”

He took note how her face fell, the little bit of glitter in her eyes flickered out. Whatever little bit of hope she had left for him to fix everything, vanished. As she walked away, head hanging low, Steve realized this wasn’t like the time she pushed him in the mud. He wouldn’t be able to show up to her door with a wooden sword and she would forgive him.

That night he rode his bike down her street three times before he finally walked to the side of her house.

The window was still shut.

As the seasons changed, Steve would check every day if it would be open. But it never was.

Finally, there came the day when he stopped checking.

–

Hawkins High felt intimidating when Steve’s mom pulled to the front, tears in her eyes because her baby boy was growing up on her. He kept begging her to calm down. If his friends saw her reacting like that, they would give him shit. He allowed her to give a kiss on his cheek, before hurriedly grabbing his blue book bag and climbing out of the car. He saw Tommy and Carter hanging over by the railing, scanning the crowd of high schoolers, greeting them both with fist bumps.

“Who knew high school was full of babes?” Carter nodded at a redhead walking into the school. “Is that Becky? Jesus, look at the rack on her.” Tommy laughed, closing the boy’s mouth, making a comment about him drooling.

Steve observed the lawn, taking in the sounds of kids chattering amongst themselves, basking in the sun, trying to get the last few moments of summer into their systems. He then stopped, staring at a girl whose back was facing them, wearing a pair of Levi’s. “Shit.” He said out loud.

“Looks like Harrington has scouted his first victim. Damn, what a sweet ass.” Tommy exclaimed.

“Don’t let Carol hear you say that.” Carter chuckled.

“What? You don’t think I know she’s looking at other dudes? This is why we work out, because we respect and trust one another.” Tommy explained. It was true, they always made comments about other people in front of each other, but neither of them got jealous. In fact, Steve swore they got hornier, knowing that there was nothing to worry about. “Why don’t you go over there, lover boy?”

Steve turned to face them again, running a hand through his hair. “I dunno. What if she’s ugly? Like her face covered in warts or something.”

“Just go, and if she’s ugly, tell her Carter wants to take her out on a date.” Tommy slapped his hand on Steve’s back, pushing him to walk over there.

“Wait, why me?” Carter asked.

“‘Cause even the ugliest girl wouldn’t want to go on a date with you.”

Steve rolled his eyes, their arguing voices drifting away as he walked closer to the girl with the sweet ass. She was talking to another girl he didn’t recognize. He coughed, but neither of the girls heard him. He took a deep breath and tapped her on the shoulder.

He felt the world freeze around him when she twisted her body to face him. His jaw fell, and her beaming smile turned sour. It was Y/n.

Everything about her was different. Her face, her hair… her body. He swallowed, hard. He knew if he turned around, Tommy and Carter would be bent over in laughter. He was unsure what to say or do, except gawk at her.

“Something I can do for you, Harrington?” She was the first to speak, and her voice had changed too. It was calm and soothing, but he could hear the tone of hostility.

“I er… hi.” He wanted to hit himself in the head for sounding pathetic.

“Really? You haven’t talked to me in over a year and you start with, ‘Hi?’” She raised an eyebrow, eyes burning into his skin, waiting for him to answer. Instead, he stood there stupidly. “Oh, am I not standing in the right area? Sorry, I couldn’t find the dog park.” She turned to her friend, telling her they were leaving. She turned her head, “Nice outfit, Harrington. Did your mommy pick it out?”

He watched her walk away and he could see Tommy and Carter covering their mouths so they wouldn’t burst into laughter. Steve walked back over to them, hitting Tommy’s stomach. “Shut up.”

If Steve hadn’t gotten the picture he and Y/n were no longer friends, he had gotten it now.

–

If there was one thing Steve loved most about his home was the swimming pool in the backyard. The house itself was way too big for the family of three, and recently, it’s just been him around. He hated to admit the loneliness creeping around the corners of the rooms, following him around.

Whenever he was bored, but still wanted to be alone, he walked outside and got in the pool. Today, however, he had invited Tommy and Carol over. They, of course, took the liberty of inviting TIna. Steve didn’t mind, more nervous than anything. Last year she had gotten prettier, no longer wearing pigtails or clothes that didn’t fit.

He also enjoyed kissing her.

Steve had kissed a lot of girls since the eighth grade. Now it was the summer before sophomore year, and a week before his sixteenth birthday. Him and Tina had been on a few dates, always ending up making out, tongues, salvia, heavy breathing and touching each other in places they shouldn’t.

The blonde was sitting between his legs, laying her head on his chest, placing soft kisses on his jaw. Tommy and Carol were on the lawn chair next to theirs. Tommy was rubbing Carol’s shoulders, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, listening to Carol ramble on about her uptight step-mom. “Did you find someone to get us some beers?” She asked Steve, rolling her eyes when he wasn’t answering, his lips locked on Tina’s.

She hit him with a towel, forcing him to break away from Tina, lips red and wet, giving Carol an annoyed expression. She repeated her question. “Yeah, they’re in the kitchen.” He tried to go back to kissing Tina, but Carol asked her to come with her, making the girl slip off the chair and follow the brunette back into the cool house. He watched the way her hips swayed side to side in her blue bikini bottom.

“Jesus dude. When are you gonna man up and fuck her?” Tommy asked once the girls walked inside.

Steve licked his lips, staring at a water bug as it skidded across the surface of the clear pool water. “We’re not even anything serious, yet.” That was always his excuse. Like the girl before Tina and the girl before her, they were never official enough to sleep with. Tommy and Carol always gave him shit for it, having done it since the beginning of freshman year.

The growing popularity in high school was overwhelming, girls coming up to him and saying their friend thought he was cute, landing a varsity spot his freshman year, being invited to upperclassman parties. A lot had changed for him.

His hair was thicker, his teeth were no longer big, his legs were longer, his shoulders broader and arms stronger. Last Christmas his grandmother made a sweater that ended up ripping because she didn’t realize how big he was.

He hated to admit that although the attention was staggering, he enjoyed it. In fact, he no longer blushed when girls would express their interest in him like he did in PE. Instead he would smirk, flirt, and occasionally, if he thought the girl was cute, he would give his number to them.

Tommy scoffed, “It’s just sex. It doesn’t have to be serious.”

Steve wanted to tell Tommy that it wasn’t just sex.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it. Oh god, no not at all. There was an embarrassing amount of wet dreams, or uncomfortable hard-ons in class that proved otherwise. But it was nerve wracking to think about being so young and stripping down to show the most vulnerable parts of yourself to somebody.

Then there were the expectations. What if it wasn’t good? What if he wasn’t good?

Steve was about to give Tommy an answer until the large gate to the pool opened. The boys turned their heads.

Y/n was pushing it open with her back, then closing it with her foot. When she turned around, she stopped in her tracks realizing they were staring at her, holding a rectangular glass platter covered with tin foil. “Um, your mom called my mom and mentioned you were by yourself. She was worried about you being fed. No one answered the door and I… well I don’t know why I came back here.”

Steve knew exactly why, especially when her eyes flickered to the second flower pot by the back door, the flower pot that always had the spare key underneath.

Steve sighed, pushing himself up off the pool chair to help the girl into the house. When he opened the door to the sun room, Tina and Carol were coming out holding beers, giving each other a look when they noticed Y/n was behind Steve.

He motioned for her to go in, closing the door quickly when he heard Carol say, “Since when did Steve get a dog?”

It was silent between them as she walked in front of him to the kitchen. Although they didn’t speak, or hung out, their families still had dinner every now and then. His mother may redecorate when she’s bored but it was nearly impossible for Y/n to forget how to get around the Harrington household.

She set the dish on the kitchen island, running the back of her hand over her forehead, wiping off the beaded sweat from the blazing summer sun. “Mom is trying out a new recipe. M’sorry if it’s not any good.”

“It’s okay. Tell her I said thank you.” Steve shifted uncomfortably, his bare feet stinging the cold linoleum. Y/n’s eyes were anywhere but on him, trying to ignore the fact he was shirtless and wearing only his swim trunks. “How’s Aaron doing?”

She shrugged. “Has his good and bad days. Yesterday he couldn’t stop throwing up.”

“Cancer sounds like an asshole.” He joked, earning a small smile from her.

The two of them were still far from being friends, but the second semester of freshman year they were partnered together for biology and now Y/n would actually have a conversation with him without scowling.

“How are you doing? With everything going on, I mean.” He asked her.

Something flashed across her face that told him she hadn't been asked that. “Alright, I guess.”

“You wanna stay? We have beers. Tommy and Carol aren’t that bad anymore. Tina’s cool too.” He could tell by the way she bit her lip and nostrils flared, she wasn’t going to stay.

“Preheat the oven at 350º and reheat it for ten minutes.” She left the room, making her way to the front door so she could avoid walking in the back again.

He joined the group outside again, Tommy and Carol wading in the pool, Tina laying on her stomach soaking up the sun. If this was seventh or even eighth grade, they would have interrogated him about Y/n showing up unannounced. But they never brought it up, at least not in the way they used to.

“How is it possible for someone’s ass to get even sweeter?” Tommy gave a cheeky grin when Carol splashed him.

Steve sat on the edge of the chair Tina was on, rubbing her back, slick of tanning oil.

“Why don’t you ask Reed? Tammy told me the other day they did it in the back of his dad’s car. Chief Hopper was the one who caught them.” Tina said.

Steve furrowed his brows.

It was no secret some of the boys at school started to find interest in Y/n, the rumor of her having dog breath had been set aflame when she allegedly sucked face with Connie Phillips at a party the beginning of freshman year.

“Can’t believe she lost her virginity before you, Harrington.” Carol sniggered.

He felt the heat on his cheeks rise.

It was odd to talk about her in such a way. He knew they were older, grown out of their awkward bodies. He knew they weren’t friends anymore. He knew he shouldn’t care what she’s doing or who she’s hanging out with.

So why did he feel his chest tighten?

–

Steve had never lost someone before. Any funeral he had gone to was as a visitor. Sometimes he would get asked how he knew the family, he’d look up at his mom, because he had no idea.

He didn’t know the pain of having a loved one ripped away suddenly from your life, having to adjust and adapt to a life without them.

He guessed that’s why it was hard to understand Nancy. He loved her, but in reality, he didn’t understand the things she had gone through.

He realized that when he looked her in the eyes at the Halloween party, and he finally saw her for the first time in their entire relationship. She didn’t love him— she couldn’t. She resented him.

He sat outside on the sidewalk of Tina’s house, cigarette in his hand, recalling his entire time with the eldest Wheeler. Anytime they were intimate, it was like she disappeared inside of herself, and it wasn’t until now that Steve realized it only reminded her of Barb. How they creeped up the steps of his house to his room, giggling and carefree while Barb was killed.

How the hell was he supposed to know Barb would be dragged to another world by a monster?

Shit, he thought to himself, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Not only was the first long-term relationship he had ever been in was over, but school wasn’t any better. Tommy and him stopped being friends last year. The new kid, Billy Hargrove, was now Hawkin’s High golden boy. He wasn’t anything special anymore.

He felt like the failure his father always said he’d be.

“I should have known you’d dress as Risky Business.”

Steve snapped his head towards the mysterious voice. He felt his stomach dip. Y/n was standing behind him, a beer in her hand, and a smirk on her face, wearing a Wonder Woman costume. He watched her walk over, plopping right next to him on the sidewalk.

“Your girl was fucked up.” It was a statement. He wondered if she knew about the argument in the bathroom. He wondered if it was her way of comforting him, telling him Nancy was drunk and they would be fine tomorrow.

But Steve knew there was no going back to the way things were before.

“It’s whatever.” He mumbled, resting his arms on his knees, flicking the butt of his cigarette he wasn’t hungry for anymore.

Her costume was shiny, gleaming underneath the streetlight softly glowing above them. “Still sucks. I could tell you were really into her. You somewhat stopped being a dickbag.”

A corner of Steve’s mouth turned upwards. He had wondered how she really felt about him.

She had to grow up, watching him go from the boy who played pirates, the boy who still slept with a baby blanket until he was eleven, the boy who attended tea parties willingly, the boy who was disgusted by the idea of kissing girls. She had to grow up, watching him become something the opposite of everything he once was. Cruel, self-obsessed, and seemingly heartless.

Although he was different, nothing could change what he had done to her what seemed forever ago in that damp basement closet. That’s the Steve Harrington she knew.

But he didn’t know anything about her. Was her favorite color still lilac? Did she leave the window cracked open for the boys she’s been with?

“Do you think you could take me home? This party is kind of lame.” She asked, taking one last sip of her drink, tossing the can into the yard.

It made Steve chuckle, past Y/n would have been angry if she caught someone littering.

The car ride was mostly silent, besides the soft crackling of the radio. One point, Y/n reached over and grabbed the Ray Bans hanging off his shirt, putting them on, resting her head on the window.

“You going to college?” She asked him.

Steve felt his body tense, thinking back on the evenings his dad forced him to send applications to every possible school in the United States. If it weren’t for his mom, Steve would have probably been shipped off to military school by now. “Hoping to. You?”

“Just got my acceptance letter from UCLA.” He was envious of the proud tone of voice she had; nevertheless, he was happy for her.

He pulled into the familiar driveway, but she didn’t rush out of the car once he put it in park. There were a few trick-or-treaters walking through the lawn from getting enough tooth rotting candy that would make a dentist cry. “I miss trick-or-treating.” She sighed.

Steve agreed.

There was a beat.

“Wanna come up?”

His jaw slacked, chestnut eyes drooped, brows creased. Did he hear her correctly? She didn’t say anything else, getting out of the car, sauntering inside her house. He could see her greet her mom in a hug through the frosted glass on the door. He waited until he saw her bedroom light turn on when he turned off the engine of his BMW, getting out. She still had his sunglasses, that was the only reason he would go in. At least, that’s what he told himself as he crossed the yard to the side of the house.

He turned the corner, stopping when he was greeted by her brother, Aaron, leaning against the wall, a cigarette between his fingers.

He looked Steve up and down. “Harrington.” He was skinny, face sunken in. Usually he wore a cap to cover the lack of hair on his head, but tonight he wore a pirate hat, almost making Steve laugh.

“Should you be smoking?” Steve asked him.

Aaron looked up above him, smiling knowingly. “Should you be sneaking through my sister’s window? Neighbors might get the wrong idea.”

Steve wanted to answer, but Y/n voice interrupted him. “Aaron, if you don’t piss off I’ll tell mom you’re smoking again.”

“I’ll tell mom you’re sneaking boys in again.” He challenged.

“You’re the one dying, she doesn’t care what I do.”

Aaron gave her an unimpressed look, smashing the cigarette into the wall, flicking it to the ground, mumbling insults. He set a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Careful, I hear she bites.”

Steve swallowed. He had always been embarrassed when he thought that Y/n probably told her family what he did to her. He always assumed when her mom stopped inviting him to go to Indiana Adventures– an amusement park outside of Indianapolis– or when her father gave him a narrowed eye look if he walked into the room. But now, Aaron confirmed it.

Steve looked up at the window, wide open. Just for him. He climbed up the lattice panel, remembering where to avoid because the wood was weak. Although now, he had to be careful because vines had grown back, that would be morifying if his foot got stuck.

Fortunately, he successfully slipped inside the room with a smooth landing.

Y/n’s room was different from the last time he had been in there. The walls were still white, small holes from nails and chipped paint. There were now posters from her favorite bands and the Karate Kid. There were a few trophies and medals from academic meets and debate club. Pictures decorated her bookshelf. He smiled at the one of her frowning the summer her mom forced her to join gymnastics.

Y/n, now changed into an oversized shirt and shorts, was rummaging through her dresser. Finally, she pulled out a jewelry box, opening it up and taking out a blunt. Without a word, she walked over to the window seal, plopping down criss crossed. Steve just stared at her stupidly, watching her light the blunt and inhaling it, tilting her head when she noticed his uneasiness. “Have you never smoked before?”

“I have.” He joined her, crossing his legs as well, giving a small thank you when she handed the blunt to him.

The two sat there, listening to crickets chirping, the doorbell ringing, kids yelling excitedly down the street. It smelled like banana bread and pine.

“I’m sorry.” Steve blurted out. He felt like he was a balloon airing up for years, the needle finally closed in on him, forcing him to burst.

She made a face, knowing what he meant. “I get it. I probably would have done the same to you. Remember me at the beginning of sixth grade?”

“No you wouldn’t have.” Steve said sternly. “You would have never done that to me. Not to anyone. You realized quicker than I did that some people are full of bullshit.”

By now the blunt had been passed between them so long that it was only a nub. She put it out in a glass bowl, setting it to the side. “Then why did you tell them that? What was so bad with them knowing you kissed me?” Her tone was soft and sad. He imagined her staying up late at night, wondering what was wrong with her all because her friend had rather made up an outrageous lie than admit he had kissed her.

Steve ran his hands over his face. “No one was supposed to even kiss you. They were going to make the dog lick you, and I just couldn’t do it. But then when you looked disappointed that it was me and not Tommy… anyway, it’s stupid.”

Y/n didn’t look at him, instead her eyes were focused outside the window. “I didn’t want to kiss Tommy. I mean, not really.”

“Not really?”

“I wanted to kiss you.”

There was a beat.

“Oh.” He felt like he was back in that closet, heart thumping and mind racing. So long he had questioned what was wrong with him that made her not want to kiss him. His eyes fell on hers and his mouth parted. He couldn’t help that they wandered over to her lips.

She noticed.

“You wanna kiss me right now?” This time she was looking at him, eyebrows raised, part of her mouth upturned.

Steve licked his lips, swallowing when she leaned forward, placing a hand on his thigh. Her face was close enough he could lean down and close the gap between them. It was an easy task. However, he sighed and looked down at the floor. She took the message, leaning back and taking her hand off of him. “If this was a year ago. I would with no hesitation. But I can’t. Not like this. I love Nancy and I… just can’t.” It was hard for him to explain that even though she was pretty, things were different than before. He was different.

He realized tonight, he never needed a wooden sword to apologize to her. It seemed like she had forgiven him a long time ago.

But maybe he needed to apologize to his younger self too. Putting so much pressure on the young boy with too big teeth to grow up faster than he really wanted. It was uncomfortable, outgrowing his old self, becoming the version of himself that he always envisioned.

Maybe that’s another reason he didn’t kiss her.

He’s rushed so many things before he could properly think about the consequences or after math.

He needed to learn how to be a friend to her again.

–

Since junior year, Steve had always dreamed about being crowned prom king. That would be the moment he knew he made a mark in high school.

Yet, when they announced his name and set the plastic crown they probably got at the party store on his head, slightly messing up his styled hair, he didn’t feel satisfied. He looked out onto the dimly lit gymnasium streamed with cheap decorations, sweaty bodies, and the spiked punch with cheap tequila.

His date, Betty Simpson, had ditched him the first ten minutes they had arrived, somewhere in the crowd with her friends, only finding him whenever a slow song came on.

There was only thirty minutes left of the dance, people already treading out to get ready for the after party at Tammy’s house. He stood to the side, watching everyone jump or sway to the music. Some people came up and patted him on the back to congratulate him, something he did to the prom king before him.

“There you are.” A pair of hands wrapped around his arms. “I think I’m going to catch a ride with Billy to Tammy’s. Is that okay?” Betty asked. He could smell the hint of alcohol from her breath. His eyes flickered over to the exit of the gym, a couple of girls were standing by the long haired boy, whispering to one another as they watched him. Billy had a smug look on his face, waving tauntingly.

“Yeah, whatever.” Steve shrugged the girl off his arm, thinking about how he wasted his entire night bringing her. He bet Billy wouldn’t have taken her to Enzo’s or would have even bought dessert like Steve did.

Betty didn’t notice the irritated expression on his face, happily telling him goodbye, picking up her dress and running towards her friends.

Steve walked over and sat down on a chair, dropping his head and taking the crown off. Cyndi Lauper’s Time After Time came on, he glanced at the couples dragging their dates to dance, sighing. “The prom king shouldn’t be moping around.” The familiar voice of Y/n made him look over, straightening in his seat. He had seen her earlier, it wasn’t that hard to point her out in the yellow dress she wore, outshining everyone in the room. Sometimes he’d tune out Betty talking his ear off, and just stare at her. Admiring how pretty she was.

He wouldn’t say things had gone back to the way they were between them, but they’ve made progress the past seven months, hanging out, having movie nights again, talking at dinners with their families.

“You know, you made a pinky promise to dance with me at prom.” She didn’t wait for an answer, grabbing his hand, pulling him up, dragging him towards the group of people. Y/n took the crown and placed it back on his head, smiling, settling his hands on her waist before placing hers on his shoulders. “Why do you look so sad?”

Steve motioned his head over to a couple. Y/n looked, “Ah.” It was Nancy and Jonathan, looking ever so in love. Although he had given up pining over her and letting her go from his thoughts, he still sometimes felt that pang of hurt whenever he saw moments like that. “Well, she can’t say she danced with the prom king, can she?”

Steve managed to smile. “Is that why you wanted to dance with me?”

She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Yes, you caught me. Wanted to tell my kids someday that I danced with the prom king in high school.” The sarcasm was thick, but it still made him chuckle. Her face softened. “Also, like I said. You promised me.”

“Do you remember every pinky promise we made?” He noticed that his hands had relaxed, mindlessly thumbing the fabric of her dress. He may have even slightly pulled her in closer.

“Only the important ones.” She shrugged, clasping her hands around his neck. “A lot of the broken ones.” She mumbled, looking at their feet.

“Can I make a new promise to you?” Steve asked her, bringing her chin up so she would look at him again. “My promise to you is if I ever lose you again, I will do anything to make sure to find you.” To her, the promise was at surface level than what he meant. Steve had gone through a lot the past couple of years, and although she knew about it, saw it first hand herself, she had no clue how terrified he was that he’d never get a chance to say how much he missed her all these years apart. How much he missed the silly pinky promises. How much he missed hearing her laugh. How much he missed crawling through her window and opening a cold Dr. Pepper that she set on her desk for him.

He held up his pinky in front of her, smirking.

She shook her head, her smile betraying her. She wrapped her pinky around his, neither of them forgetting to kiss their thumbs to secure the promise. Normally, they would drop their hands and go on about their business. However, their eyes stayed locked on one another, pinkies still clasped together, lips parted, a tingling sensation moved from his pinky through his hand up his arm to his chest, his heart beating fast. “Wanna get out of here?”

The clatter of bowling pins and cigarette smoke greeted Steve and Y/n when they walked into the bowling alley, still dressed in their prom attire. They replaced their dress shoes and high heels for uncomfortable smelly used bowling shoes. A large cherry slush was shared between them, slurping, sticking their tongues out occasionally like they did as kids, comparing whose tongue was redder.

“How is it possible to get worse at bowling since middle school?” Y/n laughed, climbing triumphantly into his car after undeniably beating him. “Don’t say ‘cause the suit. I wore this dress and still kicked your ass.”

Steve threw his white suit jacket in the back seat of his BMW, visibly pouting at the loss. “Whatever, next time I’ll prove to you that it is the suit.” He pointed his finger at her before pulling out of the parking lot.

“Oh, next time?” She tilted her head, giving him a ‘yeah right’ look.

He nodded ferociously. “Yep. How about next Friday?” His brown eyes flickered towards her.

She rested her elbow on the center console, setting her head in her hand. “Did you just ask me on a date, Harrington?” She moved the crown on his head from leaning over.

“No.” He said, maybe a little too quickly. His brows creased, recollecting what he had just said, trying to figure out what words specifically made it sound like he was asking her on a date. “Henderson will be there and probably the other dorks.”

She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. “Really shouldn’t call them dorks.”

“I find it offensive you would think me, Steve Harrington, would take a girl bowling on the first date.” He looked at her with a lopsided grin.

“I don’t think you take girls bowling on the first date,” She replied. “I think you take them to your bedroom.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Okay, Big Bird. That hurt a little.”

He saw the way she looked down, fidgeting her fingers, a bashful look on her face. “Shut up.”

“What? I think you make a cute Big Bird.” He poked her cheek.

She opened her mouth to say something. However, loud sirens and lights rolled into earshot and eyesight, quickly passing Steve’s car. Y/n grabbed his hand, panicked breathing coming out of her as the emergency cars were still moving in the direction she prayed they wouldn’t. It felt like slow motion, stopping in the street in front of her house because the driveway was crowded with vehicles, blinding lights flashed as they ran inside.

Steve watched as Y/n’s mother engulfed her daughter in a hug, rubbing her back, telling her how much she loved her.

They waited twenty minutes in the living room for the paramedics to come downstairs, assuring the family everything was okay.

Y/n had been sitting on the couch with Steve, holding his hand the entire time. It was because she was scared, he told himself.

She asked him to come up with her to see Aaron. Knowing she didn’t want to be alone, he agreed.

Aaron’s room had changed too since they were kids. It still looked like a teenager’s bedroom, decorated in posters and pictures, but in the corner there was a hospital bed with beeping monitors. He remembered the day Y/n was upset that he had to be put on bed rest, because he no longer wanted to do treatments. Although she claimed she came to terms with her brother’s numbered days, Steve could tell by the way she picked her fingernails, or jumped whenever she was called to the office, she really hadn’t.

Aaron weakly smiled when they entered. “Look, I’m E.T. now.” He held his finger up that was covered with a heartbeat monitor, moving it creepily towards his sister. “E.T. phone home.” His horrible impression made the three of them laugh. Y/n sat at edge, grabbing his hand. “Harrington, you’re prom king.”

Steve touched the cheap crown on his head that he had forgotten about. No wonder they were giving him odd looks downstairs. “Yeah.”

“Y/n was pissed you didn’t ask her to prom. Ow!” Aaron took his hand away, rubbing it after she had squeezed him ‘accidentally’ too hard.

Steve crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, giving her a smug look. “Was she?”

“Oh yeah. Now that I’m quite literally on my deathbed. I have so many secrets about Y/n I can share. Once I found her diary. Every page was always Steve this and Steve that. ‘Dear diary, I cannot stop thinking about that kiss-” Y/n’s hand found its way over his mouth.

“If you don’t shut up now, I’m going to start unplugging shit.” She took her hand off of him, placing it back in her lap, avoiding the look that Steve was giving her.

There was a moment of silence.

“Always wanted to be prom king. The ladies were obsessed with me in middle school.”

Aaron grinned, fidgeting with a loose thread on the bed sheet. “Because they thought you were dying.”

“I am.”

Steve had always wondered what it would have been like to have a sibling. He once asked his mom why they never had any other kids. His father had interjected the conversation. “If we weren’t so worried about how you turn out, maybe we'd have time to have another kid.” He guessed that’s why he had taken such a liking to Henderson. A kid he once never thought twice about and now if someone even looked at him funny, he’d kick their ass.

Steve looked down, a smile flickered at the corner of his mouth, bending down to pick up the familiar wooden object. Memories of laughing, falling in the mud, swinging too high on the tire swing, flooded his mind. He looked over at two of them, still bantering. “Hey, how about some fresh air?”

The spring air was cool, a light fog casted down the street of Dearborn, the lawn was damp and muggy from the rain yesterday, Y/n’s mom’s lilies had just bloomed. Steve held the wooden sword firmly in his hands. Aaron sat in a wheelchair, covered in a blanket and a knitted toboggan on his head. He was opposite of Steve, holding Y/n’s sword, while she held the handles of the wheelchair to push him since he was too weak to do it himself.

It took their mom a lot of convincing to allow Aaron to come outside, but even she couldn’t stop smiling ear to ear when Steve carried the boy down the stairs and outside. He even caught a nod of approval from her dad.

“Aye, we meet again to fight one last time for the jeweled crown. If yer want it, you have to kill me first.” Steve spun the crown on his pointer finger.

“Pirate Steve-”

“It’s now Pirate ‘the Hair’ Harrington, matey.”

Y/n snorted, but didn’t say anything.

“Pirate ‘the Hair’ Harrington. That crown will be mine!” He motioned for Y/n to start pushing, holding the sword out, charging towards the dark locked boy.

It was like a messy dance as Steve ran in circles while Y/n and Aaron chased him. Occasionally the wooden swords would clatter against one another, Steve careful not to hit too hard. His shoes and the bottom of his trousers had mud and dirt splattered on the slick black. He would get an earful when he got home, but he didn’t care.

Finally, Steve put himself in the position for Aaron to hit his waist, signaling he had been defeated. Y/n had been giggling the entire time, and it only got louder as Steve dramatically coughed. He took the crown off his head, placing it on Aaron’s over the toboggan. “You won it fair and square.”

Aaron’s expression changed, quickly shaking his head. “Steve, I’m not taking your crown.”

Steve smiled tenderly, “You didn’t take it. I’m giving it to you.” His eyes flickered to Y/n. Her head was tilted slightly and a toothy grin was painted on her face.

He couldn’t help it, his feet started going towards her. When she saw the mischievous look in his eyes, she held a hand up, grabbing the bottom of her yellow dress, running away from him. She squealed when he easily caught up with her, grabbing her waist, her feet twisting underneath forcing her to the ground, pulling him down with her. He could feel her belly rumble against his own, laughing, smile beaming in the soft glow of moonlight. She had a spec of mud on her face, Steve brushed it off with his knuckles, chuckling because he had made it worse.

“Did you mean it when you said I was cute?” She asked him in a low whisper so that Aaron couldn’t hear.

He felt his own voice go down. “Of course I did.”

She hummed, brushing her fingers through his hair. “Promise?”

A breath of air hitched in his throat. His jaw slacked and eyes widened. She gave him an innocent smile, eyelashes fluttering when she blinked.

Their noses bumped when he leaned down, connecting their lips. His stomach felt like it was doing flips as he drowned himself in her. He could taste the cherry slush that still lingered on her lips. He could feel the longing desire as her fingers touched the nape of his neck, pulling him deeper.

This was his promise.

“Guys? It’s awfully quiet back there. Did you kill one another?” Aaron asked, trying to look behind him.

The two broke apart, sharing a giggle and a secret that only the two of them would know.

–

Steve had never had a girl cry in front of him. He could always tell if they were about to or if they were sad, but never did they cry. He had always thought maybe they were too embarrassed, not wanting him to see their red puffy eyes or snot running nose. He had shrugged it off until he dated Nancy.

He realized that none of them were flustered. They never trusted him enough to see that side of them. None of them felt safe enough.

So when he laid in Y/n’s bed, holding her shaking body, her tears staining his polo, he was unsure what to do.

It had been a week since her brother’s funeral. Since then, he had seen a few tears fall when she thought no one was looking, but would always wipe them off and smile if he said something.

It wasn’t until he had snuck in her window— her parents now disapproved of this since they assumed more might be happening between them, rightfully so.

They were laying in her bed, his hand on her stomach, she was playing with his fingers. Until all of a sudden, she burst into tears.

At first, he thought he might have said or done something wrong. All he knew what to do was pull her even closer, allowing her face into his chest, assuring her it was okay whenever she cried out an apology. There was no reason to apologize, he told her. She was allowed to be sad. She was allowed to cry. He would be there for her, always, even if he didn’t completely understand how she felt, even if she didn’t want him to be.

The room fell silent besides her quiet sniffling.

She turned over, making Steve believe she was ready to be alone. He slipped out of the bed, walking over to the window to put on his shoes. Y/n turned her body, watching him with creased brows. “Where are you going?”

Steve looked up. “Thought maybe you wanted to be alone.”

She shook her head, biting her lip. “Please stay.”

Steve took his shoes back off, closed the window, and crawled back on the bed next to her, flushing his chest to her back and holding her tightly, never wanting to let go.

—

Y/n had always hated peaches. Even the smell of them made her gag. Whenever the school served them and a tiny drop of peach juice touched her food, she wouldn’t eat it. Finally, her mom started packing her daughter’s lunches to prevent any further peach contamination.

So when the boy came up to the counter at Scoops Ahoy, smirking, asking about the pretty girl in the booth reading a book and what Steve thought her favorite ice cream flavor was. Steve couldn’t help but smile wide once he handed the guy a double scoop of Peaches and Cream flavored ice cream.

When the ice cream was offered to her, she smiled and gave a thank you.

After he left, Y/n narrowed her eyes on Steve. She stood up and walked up to the counter. “Why did you do that?”

Steve acted clueless. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She scoffed, holding the ice cream cone that was already melting and running down her fingers. “There’s other ways to make it known you’re jealous than making me come in contact with my mortal enemy.”

His face pinched up. “I’m not jealous.”

“Oh, so you won’t care if I call him?” She showed a piece of paper that Steve didn’t see earlier when he was watching them.

Steve’s jaw ticked. “Let’s not go that far. I mean, did you see that unibrow?” He pointed to the space between his brows, grimacing. He then leaned on the counter with his elbows.

“Well, at least he’s man enough to ask me out on a date.” Her voice had raised, earning looks from some of the customers sitting down.

Robin, his co-worker who had made a silent oath to make any second working with him miserable, pretended to come outside and check the toppings.

This was ridiculous, he thought. He didn’t realize it was a big deal to play a harmless prank. Besides, Y/n was way out of his league. No, he was not jealous because there was nothing to be jealous of. If she was implying that he hadn’t asked her out because he was a wimp, she was wrong. Completely wrong.

What was the point of starting something with her if in a couple of months she’d be across the country in California? He’s seen the posters of those surfers in her bedroom. That’s all he could imagine, her pathetically splashing around in a yellow bikini and a tanned, long hair blond saving her, complimenting how beautiful she looked and that yellow was definitely her color. He would stare at all her supple curves and her boobs and her sweet ass— Jesus what was he even thinking?

She was his friend.

A friend he’s kissed.

A friend that he had only gotten back recently, and he was too selfish to let her go.

Y/n wasn’t pleased with his lack of words. She pursed her lips, took the ice cream cone, smeared it on his dark mop of hair, and then pivoted on her heels to storm out of the ice cream shop.

Steve poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, nodding to himself. He probably deserved it.

He turned to look at Robin, seeing her smile for the first time since he started working there. “Dude, you kind of suck.”

He muttered something about her getting off at his misery as he scooped the broken cone and melted ice cream off his head, trying not to think about how it screwed up his hair routine for the week.

“So, why isn’t she your girlfriend? She comes and sits in here nearly every day.” Robin never took interest in his personal affairs, so why now?

“Not that it’s any of your business, Buckley, but it’s complicated.” He used a rag to clean the counter off.

She hummed, going back into the breakroom, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts and a group of familiar looking teenagers.

Steve couldn’t sleep that night, tossing and turning, uncomfortable because his hair was still damp from the shower he took. “Screw it.”

When he got to Y/n’s house, he didn’t even care that her bedroom lights were off and the window was closed. He still climbed the lattice panel, knocking loudly on the glass. He was relieved when he saw a dim glow appear through the curtains which snapped open. Y/n’s face had no expression whatsoever, her eyes were half-closed and pajamas were rustled against her body. Nevertheless, she unlocked the window and opened it. “It’s two in the morning.”

She still let him crawl through, shutting it when he stepped further into the room. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“So you came over to wake me up instead? Did the ice cream freeze your brain cells?” She poked his forehead, giggling a little at her joke.

“No. I came over to talk to you.” His serious tone made her wake up completely. He took a deep breath, already overwhelmed. “You’re my best friend, Y/n.”

“Sure it isn’t Dustin?” She joked, sitting down at the edge of her bed.

Steve rubbed his hand over his face. Why was she being so difficult? “Can you just let me talk?”

Her jaw slacked, surprised at the mini outburst. “Losing you as my best friend was one of the worst things that happened to me. I became a douchebag and didn’t care about anything or anyone. Now, I’m scared that you’re going to leave for California and you’ll realize I’m just a nobody still stuck in this shit hole because I realized too late high school doesn’t matter.”

Y/n eyes softened. “This is all about me going to UCLA?” She asked, disbelief laced in her words. He only shrugged, avoiding her sympathetic look. “Steve.”

He still wouldn’t look at her. She sighed and stood up to walk over to him. “Steve.” She said again, softly, placing her hand tenderly on his face. His hooded eyes found hers, warm and sweet. “I made the decision to go to Indiana State.”

“What? Why?”

“To be closer to my parents. I don’t want to be across the country worrying about them all the time.” She paused looking down bashfully then back up at him, thumbing the collar of his sleep shirt, batting her eyes. “I also wanted to be closer to the boy I like.”

Steve felt his heart beat fast. “Indiana State is about an hour and a half drive from here.”

She began to pepper kisses against his jaw. “I could come down on weekends or somebody could come see me.”

Steve felt selfish that he was more than happy with her decision to stay in Indiana. He should be jumping up and down, celebrating, but something was gnawing on his mind, like a tiny ant he couldn’t get rid of.

—

Never did Steve think he’d be in a bathroom, coming down from the biggest drugged high of his life, with his co-worker Robin. Granted, they had just escaped Russians who had beaten his face so badly his eye was nearly swollen shut, but never did he think he’d be sharing the most vulnerable parts to someone that he barely knew.

Yet, there he sat, back against the cold tiles of the freshly cleaned restroom, the scent of cleaning chemicals burning his nostrils.

“Are you in love with Y/n?” Robin’s raspy voice was soft, but the question felt like it had echoed against the stalls, ringing in his ears.

His chest tightened and he swallowed hard. “I dunno. I’ve never thought about it.”

“Why are boys such idiots?” Robin said, mostly to herself. “She’s your girlfriend, dude.”

“Yeah, and we’ve only been dating less than a month.”

She let out a long exasperated sigh. “You’ve known her longer than a month.”

Steve looked at the multicolor tiles below him as his hand cradled the toilet which was defaced in his vomit and blood. Steve might have lied. He had thought about Y/n beyond just liking her.

He slid under the bathroom stall. “I’m scared.” He admitted. “I’m scared that I’ll tell her and she’ll look at me the same way Nancy did. With that blank look because she never felt that way and never will.”

“Y/n isn’t Nancy.” Steve had to agree with her. Maybe that’s why he dived so fast into the relationship with Nancy. She was the opposite of Y/n. She didn’t remind him every single day that he was lost without his best friend.

“You just wouldn’t understand.” Steve ran his fingers through his hair, damp with sweat.

She let out a breathy laugh. “You really don’t know a thing about me, Steve.”

He glanced at her, noticing the way she was chewing on her lip and how she was slightly pulling her hair, staring at the toilet paper holder next to him. He was still astonished that this day had brought them closer. A girl he would have never hung out with in high school. Maybe because he was afraid Tommy would have made fun of him or maybe it would’ve hurt his chances to be prom king.

He knew it was all bullshit.

He was different now, and Robin must have seen it too, because she told him a secret that she had never told anyone, letting him know she did understand. He couldn’t tell her how his high school self would react to the news of her being a lesbian, but it didn’t matter because that person didn’t exist anymore.

So, four weeks later, when Steve still had a fading bruise under his eye, and a healing cut under his lip that would surely leave a scar, he still couldn’t get that ant from gnawing his brain.

Not even when his lips were meshed with Y/n’s. His back against her headboard as she straddled his lap, fingers tangled in his hair.

It was a heated kiss, heavy breathing, tongues sliding against each other. Y/n took his lip between her teeth, forcing a guttural moan out of him, his hands slid down her back to her ass, gently squeezing, smiling when he felt the sliver of flesh peeking through her shorts.

Y/n’s hands wandered from his hair to his neck and then down his chest, her fingers hooked his belt loops, pulling his waist up against her.

She tasted sweet like the vanilla cookies his mom used to make for him. She still smelled like honeysuckle along with a hint of his cologne. It was like he was walking in an apple orchard. He didn’t believe in a God, but Jesus, she felt like an angel.

He scattered kisses along her neck, finding her sensitive spot that made her let out an angelic sound which drove him crazy.

He felt her slowly mess with his belt, unbuckling it. However, when her thumb unbuttoned his jeans, Steve quickly pulled her hands away, leaning back, chest heaving.

“Steve.” She whined.

He cursed the ant ruining his life. All he wanted to do was explore every inch of her. This wasn’t the first time they’ve been close, and this wasn’t the first time Steve, regrettably, stopped anything from going further. She sighed, wiping the wetness on her lips, crawling off him and the bed. He closed his eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/n…”

“Don’t. It’s fine.” She started to mess with her stereo.

“I’m sorry.” He continued, putting his belt back on and then throwing his feet over the edge of the bed.

“Am I not attractive?” She asked him, spinning around, her nose flared. “Do you not find me desirable?”

Steve shook his head. “Christ, Y/n. You have no idea how bad I want you.” He wasn’t going to say out loud he’s wanted her for a pathetically long time.

“Then what’s wrong? I’m… dumbfounded that Steve Harrington is saying no to sex.” One hand was up in the air. Maybe she thought it would help her figure out what his deal was.

There was a moment of silence except for the radio crackling.

Steve had had enough of the ant.

“You should go to California.”

Y/n’s expression changed, trying to process what he had just said. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I’d be a fool if I didn’t.” He got up from the bed and walked over to her.

She shook her head, pushing past him. “I already made up my mind. I’m staying.”

“Why?”

“I’ve told you! I want to be closer to home. I want to be closer to you.” She proclaimed.

“Because you want to or you think you have to?” He didn’t want to raise his voice, but it was hard not to. She muttered something about him being unbelievable, plopping down on the window seal.

The sunset was bleeding through her curtains, illuminating all of her features. “I know you’ll be content with going to Indiana State but you won’t be happy. You don’t talk about it like you did UCLA.”

She ducked her head but he could see the tears spilling from her eyes. He took long strides over to her, squatting down, looking up at her, cradling her face. “I can’t just leave my parents, not after Aaron.”

“They’ll be okay, Y/n. I’ll come over every week and have dinner with them to make sure they’re okay.” His offer was serious. He’d move in if he had to.

“But what about you, Steve? I don’t want to leave you.” She sobbed. “I love you.”

Steve felt a lump in his throat. His stomach flipped and heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Tears ran down his cheek. He used to think he would have to beg someone to say those words to him. Beg them to love him. But there Y/n sat, his best friend, who loved him unconditionally. This made letting go of her even harder. “I love you, Y/n. I’ve loved you an excruciatingly long time. I’ve been in love with you since you wore that yellow Big Bird dress with the puffy sleeves. I’ve been in love with you since I kissed you in the closet. And I love you too damn much to not let you go to California.”

She laughed and sniffled her nose. “You’re so cheesy.”

He choked on his own laughter, pushing down another lump forming in his throat. She gave him a sad look, nodding slightly. “Okay, I’ll go.” She ran her fingers through his hair, already missing him. “What will you do while I’m gone?”

He smiled, running his thumb over her lips. “I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

“Promise?” She whispered, putting her pinky up.

“Promise.” He took it and kissed his thumb exactly like they’ve done before since they were ten-years old.

He then tenderly placed his lips on hers, standing up, bringing her up with him by grabbing the back of her thighs, allowing her to wrap her legs around him. Steve carried Y/n back to her bed, laying her softly down.

He made so many promises to her with each kiss and touch. He promised he would call her and write to her. He promised to never forget her favorite song or color. He promised he would never forget the way the color yellow complimented her skin. He promised he would never forget how much she hates peaches. He promised he would never forget the way she made sweet noises or how she moaned his name when she hit her high.

Most importantly, he promised he would never stop checking if her window was cracked open.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington smut #blaize writes #steve fic

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adventuresasmrsfindley · 2 years ago

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Last day of 2022. What a year 😅 it's taken me a while but I think I'm ready to share what we've been up to! Buckle up.

So y'all know for the last year at least, really the last 2, my husband has wanted to move. He has lived in the KC metro area for his entire life. I have been here for 16 years. It's home. It's where we met and fell and love. Where we got married. Where we became a family of 3. I love it here, but he was not fulfilled. He wanted a slower paced life. To raise our son in a smaller school district. To live where there is land to roam (I think you all know he is PASSIONATE about deer hunting). We talked about it endlessly. For a good year, it led to a fight every time. I didn't want to go. I didn't see anything wrong with the life we were living or the place we were raising our son. But as time went on, I did start to see the benefits. I found myself daydreaming about the life we could build in a smaller town. The adventures we would go on, just the 3 of us. Looking back, I really don't know if I got there on my own or if I was just so tired of the conversation that I would do anything to make it stop. That's something that will take some more time to process. Either way, around August or September I agreed to pack up our life and give it a shot.

We worked on our house for maybe a month. Got it ready to list, and by Cole's birthday (first weekend in October) we were under contract. We had talked extensively about our options and decided to live with Cole's mom for 6 months to a year to save more money and explore the area to decide where exactly we wanted to put our roots down. It sounded great in theory, but boyyyyyyy was it not. Almost immediately after packing up our life and flipping it upside down, I knew we had made a big mistake. I hated the town. I hated being away from all of the friends we've made, my parents. We did not feel welcome where we were despite many conversations prior to moving and his mom being the one to offer up her home to us. Tensions were extremely high. Cole took a week off and then started at his new job in that area and again, almost immediately, he realized what a terrible fit it was. Everything started spiraling and it was a very miserable 6 weeks. And I know what you're thinking. How can you know in such a short time that it wasn't going to work out. But we just knew. All the things that we took for granted in our "old" life, we started to miss terribly. We talked and talked and talked and talked. There were a LOT of tears on my part. But ultimately we decided to come back home.

Now, that wasn't an easy thing to do since we had sold our house 😂 so again, we talked and talked about what our options were. We decided to move into a rental to get back here but give us some time to think about what it really was we wanted in a home. We packed up everything (again) and flipped our life upside down (again). And it sucked. Despite never really making us feel at home, Cole's mom was very hurt (?) that we were moving back. She's all alone in the town where she lives (a place she moved a year before we ever talked about joining her, mind you) and I guess we just really let her down by leaving her up there alone again. Things are...not good at all with us right now. We have barely talked to her since we moved back. I'm hoping with time we can all process the whirlwind that the last 2 months was and have a conversation and get back to where we were. But I guess only time will tell.

So fast forward to about 3 weeks ago, we are in a rental back in the KC metro. Cole still has dreams of getting out of the suburb life. He wants room to roam, and room for Knox to roam. And I get that. And I support it. And basically as soon as we get into this damn rental house, a spot like that in our price range comes for sale. And we are like.....should we? And ya know what, 2022 was clearly the year of fuck it. If we want something, we have to go after it. Even if it's hard. Even if it's messy. So we go and see the property and we fall in love. It's close enough to city conveniences for me. But far enough that it feels like the country for Cole. It's a modest home, but the perfect property. There's space. There's a shop in the back which is something Cole has wanted for a longgggg time. Sooo we offer on it (below asking! We really got the best of the sale and purchase side this time around) and they accept!

At this point I know we are absolutely insane. We will pack up (again) at the end of January and move (again) into what I can really see being our long term home. I've realized over the last few months there probably isn't a "forever home" for us. We like change. We are impulsive. So I'm sure there will come a day when this home we are about to move into will not serve us. But I think that day is a long way off. I'm so excited to watch my boy grow up playing in the big yard. Riding our 4wheeler around. Hanging out in the shop with my guys. House projects with my husband (and my parents, let's be honest. They're really good at that stuff). Mostly, I'm ready to get somewhere and stay there. It has been a HARD couple of months. But I am so proud of the way Cole and I have communicated through it all. We have grown endlessly in our marriage and I don't feel like those young kids who got married anymore. I feel like we are in a mature, loving and supportive marriage and for that I am so grateful.

I'm posting a few drone pics of our new place below. Don't be weird and go google image it or something to find out where I live 😂

I hope that 2023 brings us.... calm. And I hope the same for all of you! ❤️

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soxcietyy · 3 years ago

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Dollhouse

In a world where females are not commonly born you are kidnapped and taken to the kingdom of Valgore to be sold off to whoever can afford you. The General of the knights Yuta Okkotsu who isn’t sure if he wants a wife, takes you in but you arnt going to make his life easy by submitting yourself to him.

Tw: bad language, violence, drinking, beating, woman being mistreated, abuse, murder, rape, things that may trigger people.

Chapter 17

Two weeks have passed since then and Yuta had four to five butlers at his house. Not only was Itadoris wife pregnant but so was his. He knew he couldn't be there all the time due to everyone being alarmed from the current situation of the kingdom. Many people stayed huddled up in their homes not daring to go outside unless necessary. Nobody wanted to experience what happened years ago. He guessed he wasn't the only one who was stuck with that thought in the back of his head. The first time was bad what would they do now? Would they slaughter the whole kingdom? Kill the king and queen? Or even worst everyone?

"Yuta," he hears a soft voice call him.

Turing around he sees it's you looking at him from the bed worryingly. "Oh sorry did I wake you up?" He asks as he walked to your side. He hated making you worry especially during times like these. Cupping your cheek he placed a small kiss on your forehead.

"Oh no I just saw you standing up for a while, didn't know if something was wrong." You say holding his hand. He saw as you also held your stomach lovingly. Your stomach was now growing with a baby inside of it. It made Yutas heart flutter every time he thought about it. Could it be a boy that he could spar with in the future? Or maybe a girl he would spoil like crazy? It didn't matter as long as it was a healthy baby.

"I'm fine I was just thinking about today's schedule. It's pretty full due to the festival we'll be having soon." He says sitting down to talk to you. It was currently five in the morning but he had time to kill. Especially with these sleepless nights from overthinking.

"Ah yes the festival, isn't it such a bizarre time no?" You tilt your head.

"Yes it is but the king says it to lift up the peoples spirits. We can't just be living in fear everyday. Apparently everything is under his control and there's nothing to worry about."

"I guess he's right but what if something bad does happen? What then?" You hold his hand tighter afraid for yours and the baby's safety.

"That's something you'll never have to worry about. As long as I'm here you'll be safe. You and everyone else I love. Get some rest sunshine I'll be on my way." Yuta placed another kiss on you this time on your lips. Then he was on his way to work. The streets seemed quite as usual. The only thing he saw outside where boxes full of decorations for the festival which should of been hung yesterday. Maybe people were still afraid to go out. This was probably going to add more work on top of his day.

As he made his way to the castle he found himself spacing out once again. Thinking about what was to come in the future. That being positive or negative. He's actually never spaced out this bad until now. He could of sworn he was still walking to the castle but found himself Infront of the kings doors. Quickly he took a look in the mirror making sure he seemed perfect. After fixing a few flyaways he walked in. Pushing the heavy doors open.

"Yuta!" The king greets him.

"King Orimoto, I have come to speak to you about the recent events." Yuta says as he kneels down.

"Ah yes...Can you let us speak privately." The king tells his guards and servers. With a quick nod they take their leave. Yuta approached his majesty and stood next to him so they could make sure nobody was listening in.

"About the festival nobody is decorating or going outside. Also the farmers said that they will not be able to provide enough food for trade. To be fair our land isn't made for farming due to the cold weather." Yuta says.

"Have a group of men help and decorate. About the training I'll have to send another letter to our friendly neighbors." He sighs heavily.

From Yutas knowledge it wasn't easy trying to calm down their neighbors. They were ready to go to war but the king managed to settle it. From the rumors going around it had to deal with marriage... "My king I’ll also send people to help the farmers with their work. I’ll post my guards up in the entrances and I was wondering if I could get a marriage certification…" Yuta adds.

"Do I even want to know the situation about the last one?" He asked stressed out.

"No… but to brighten up the mood I would also like to let you know that my wife is soon to bear a child."

"A child? You managed to convince a child? Oh my boy Yuta I'm so proud of you. May your wife and child be healthy! You already know how hard it is for the woman born here to convive. It’s almost as it was a curse. I’ll send a marriage certificate to your house." The king says happily.

"Thank you! Also I would like to discuss one more thing with you. Something I believe we have to talk about." Yuta looks at him. The king leans in listening well.

"We both can’t deny it anymore, theirs going to be a war between the countries. Excuse my rudeness but I know about the marriage with Rika and I know she will not stand by it. She’s going to throw a big tantrum and it’s not going to be a nice one. You’ve seen how she acts. As much as I love her she’s going to make everything into a shit show." Yuta says.

"Yes you are right."

After what seemed like a hours of talking Yuta left. Striding past his men into the trading ground. It was a small arena with swords and armor. They trained here four times a week depending on their schedules. A a loud whistle was heard making everyone turned to look at him. "Alright guys I want a group of twenty to go to the plaza and decorate. I also need a few of you to go around asking if anyone needs help. Some in the farmers areas and others in the kingdoms entrances. This is a festival to bring people at ease. So I would appreciate if you guys would go and guard the festival. I think that will make people feel more secure." Yuta says point out random men to go help out.

"I'll be with the group of men so let's head out." He ordered as he walked out taking the lead. Hopefully tomorrow the festival was going to go as planned. No interruption or inconveniences, at least he hoped. When they made it to the plaza they got to work. They opened creates that contained balloons, streamers, confetti and other small things. The plaza was a very wide place so they could decorate. Sadly he couldn't bring you to help due to your safety. Last thing he wanted was someone to hold your for ransom. Hanging up banners and decorations hoping it would convive other people to help. At first nobody came out. You would see people peaking out the window here and there. Some actually sat outside to watch but those consisted of the older folks who wouldn't be much help but they were nice to talk too. One old lady came out and pulled a chair out next to Yuta. She wore a yellow flowery dress and some slippers.

"General what a find man you turned into. I remember when you where just a kid following Gojo around." She said.

"Ah yes I remember those days. I followed him so he could train me. He was my teacher after all, he has taught me well." Yuta smiles at her as he lifted a box up.

"Yuta my dear I wanted to ask you a question about the situation." She said reaching out to his with a shaky hand. She rested it on his arm waiting for his to approve.

"We'll I can't really say much regarding the situation but I'll see what can answer." Yuta put the box down on the floor. Sitting on the crate to listen to her questions. From the looks of how everything was going he had time to kill. His men where half way done with decorating. It wouldn't hurt to take a small break.

"I know you'll do anything the protect the royal family but what about us commoners." She said worried.

Yuta looked at her surprised, this was something he didn't think about. Him being the General his main focus is the royal family. Then everyone else would have to be tended to last. That including his wife to.

"I asure you that you will be protected by my fellow men. They will make sure to do anything in their power to save the community. A lady like you shouldn't be worried about things like that. Trust me when you save the kingdom is safe. Spend time with your family now." Yuta said standing up. He grabbed the crate he was sitting on and lifted it up.

"I'll be going now I can't be slacking!" Yuta said as he walked off. Just a few more things and everything will be set. Hopefully...

walking past the fountain he could hear how the water poured down. It was relaxing yet soothing.

"No! No! No!" A high pitch voice rang though the village. Ruining the small moment of peace. They sounded upset and frustrated. "I can't believe he would do this to me! " she yelled.

Turning his attention to the sudden commotion he realizes it's the youngest princess. She was being followed by two guards and three maids. Throwing her hands around and yelling. "Princess please! You can't just run away it's your duty to do this for the country!" A maid behind here said.

"Do you think I care? I don't want to get married to the son of that monster! I want to marry who I want! I want to marry..." she turned her gaze to see Yuta looking back at her. "You" she mumbled.

"Excuse me?" Yuta questions not hearing the last part well. Her eyes looked full of sorrow and her lips pouted. "Yuta," she said approaching the general. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be training the soldiers?" She asks looking embarrassed.

Back then she would not care who saw her throw her tantrums. She would kick, spit, use vile language any where. Now that she was 15 it was different. She would still throw them just not around specific people. "Yuta Iv been hearing these ridiculous rumors that your going to be a dad, is it true?" She said looking at him sad almost as she was wishing it wasnt true.

"Yea I am," Yuta replied putting his hand over her head. "Get back to the castle you know you can't be out here." He gave her a small smile. Yet she didn't move nor look at him. Royalty were not to

Be out without a proper escort. It would deemed dangerous and scandalous. Due to the fact that if they were seen alone it meant they were doing something bad.

Bending his legs to be at eye level with her he could see her face. The look on her face changed. She looked distraught from hearing that answer.

"Are you okay Rika?" He asked confused. Still she didn't make a sound.

"We need to take her back now. It seems the princess isn't feeling well. Have her go get checked by the doctor and keep a close eye on her." Yuta commanded to the guards that stood behind her.

Before anyone could act she wrapped her arms around Yuta embarrassing him. "You don't want a baby, you never wanted a wife! Are you forcing herself to do this because of her?" She yelled. "Tell me you don't want the baby Yu! I'll assign a appointment for an abortion. I'll buy mugwort tea if you want! " she gripped his arms tightly.

Yuta looked her stunned. Why was she saying such things like this? Was she trying to embarrass him or creat lies? Grabbing her hands he pulled her of of him and began pulling her. He couldn't lie he felt so angered by this. What type of nonsense was she spewing? If this was any normal person he would of cut their fingers off. Maybe beat them till they couldn't walk. Send them to prison for life. But this was the princess, nothing could be done to her.

"Take get back to her room. I dont want to see her today nor do I want her near my house." Yuta whispers into a guards ear as Rika resisted. Letting go of her she fell to the ground.

"Please refrain from saying such this princess because it's not true. I love my wife and I am happy to soon be a father. Have a good day." He said before walking off. Hearing her yell as she was being escorted didnt bother him. What did though was the fact that he found himself gripping the hilt of his sword.

Next day

Waking up felt like the hardest part of today. Yesterday he worked so hard decorating and tending to peoples issues. At some point he was chasing rabbits around because they escaped from there pen. Luckily today was his day off. Well technically he was to be on duty secretly due to it being the festival today. Forcing his eyes open he sees your still sound asleep. He has to be at the festival as soon as it opens. He would of quickly gotten up if it wasn't for the fact that he promised you to take you out. Giving you small soft pokes he looks at you stir. Your eyebrows knitting together in annoyance.

Slowly opening your eyes you give him a glare. Sleeping was something you loved doing and because quite bothered if someone awaken you.

"Morning love let's get ready for today." He says giving you a kiss on your forehead.

"Oh yea we are going to go out today." You say remembering his promise.

"Yes now go get ready" he says as he watched you get up to go to the restroom.

It didn't take long for both of you to be at the door ready for the day. He found it adorable how you quickly ate up your breakfast to get going but had to wait for him to finish. "Yuta let's go now please!"

You grab onto his arm trying to sway him.

"Arnt you too excited? You know it's just going to be us in the beginning." Yuta says wrapping his arm around your shoulder. It was true the beginning of this festival was going to be empty. People are going to be too scared to come out but hopefully them seeing people out will encourage them. Yuta had a great reputation with the community. People loved him and seeing his wife was pregnant may make them come out to ask questions. He had the opportunity to show off his wife and the fact that he was going to be a dad. As much as he pretended like it was nothing he was secretly excited.

An: yea I finished this 8 days ago 🧍‍♀️

#yuta okkotsu #jjk second years #jjk movie #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk 0 movie

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maranull · 2 years ago

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Μodern Greek rant so here I am cause boy do I have a bone to pick with this fucking culture, country and people. This will probably out of order and with poor formatting to really give you the Greek experience™ (also because I get angry and don't want to reformat all this fucking bullshit).

Note, this is obviously a generalization, and I'm just talking about my own, PERSONAL view of this shithole. And I'm well aware people elsewhere have it worse. But I'm here, so I'll bitch about this country here.

So. Let's start with the obsession over our history.

Is it a very rich history and was it the base for what has now evolved to the concept of the Western World? Yes. Was ancient Greece also filled with rampant pedophilia, slavery, sexism and corruption? Abso-fucking-lutely. Did modern-Greeks fought tooth to nail against the Nazis and made them bleed in ways no one expected from our tiny, shitty little nation? Yes. Did also half the country sold their own families over to the Nazis for a loaf of bread during the occupation (both the Nazi one and the Ottoman before it)? Or even for not even that? Also yes.

Most will call Greece, and specifically Athens, the birthplace of democracy. BUT! It was a democracy for those that were considered citizens, aka male Athenians. Women where "encouraged" to never leave the houses/mansions. And slaves were, well, slaves. Anyway, the democracy Athens boasted about is no more, unless you can call democracy a few families running over and over for head of state and a police force that feels more and more Americanized by the year (I do not need to say that this is a bad thing, right?).

Speaking of bastards, cops seem to be one of the most well equipped forces in the public sector, along with the army (we'll get to those fuckers later). Here are some posts (1) (2) (3) that I made during fire season (I was foaming from the mouth when I made those, hence the language and caps). Take note how in the 1st one, it's a motherfucking cop that is pissing on the fire (also remember his division, ΔΙ.ΑΣ, it will be relevant later). On the 2nd one you can see where the money is actually going during fire season. And I linked the 3rd one to see the hellscape that was the 2021 fires. Btw, this year, we got about 5000 or so (I can't recall the exact number) priests being hired in the public sector, comparative to only around 500 hired in the special forces of the firefighters. Also during the first quarantines, a ton of firefighters were laid down, allegedly for refusing to wear masks. Which would make sense, only by 2021 the whole force was and is understaffed and then we got one of the worse Attica fires to date (2021). "But Mara, they had a reason to fire them!" Yeah, I agree. What I don't agree with is that they never fucking hired or trained replacements, while they kept hiring more and more and more and more cops.

There are constant, and I mean all day —can't tell about the night, I don't live near— anti-riot units in the center of Athens.

A cop shot and killed a teen in 2008. And for all the shit I give Greeks, they are insanely protective of their kids and close friends so the 2008 riots (Wikipedia article here) lit the city on fire. The killer was convicted in 2010 and he walked fucking FREE in 2019. I can promise you that if the riots didn't happen, he would still be "serving" as a cop.

In terms of LGBTQ treatment from the police, here's the Wikipedia article for Zak's murder. And another post of mine doing a partial translation of an interview from a Greek trans woman. That should tell you everything about the LGBTQ-cops relationship.

Oh btw, remember that ΔΙ.ΑΣ unit? About a month ago they were accused of raping a woman inside their fucking department in Omonoia (<- Athens' center). And they generally have a reputation of violence almost equal to the riot unit. I always get the urge to spit when seeing them.

So, now that we've covered politics and cops, let's go to those who enable them, the people.

Biggest characteristic, their passion about their history (minus the bad, of course). So passionate in fact, that the modern Greek seems to forget that modern Greece is younger that the freaking US. Greece got it's independence from the Turks/Ottomans at 1821. We were under the Byzantines before them, which while they were culturally Greek, the rule was a remnant of the Roman Empire, which we were also under before the change (mainly in name) to the Byzantine Empire.

What I'm getting at is that the modern Greek is mainly proud about achievements that happened literally thousands of years ago. And even if you count the Byzantine Empire as Greek (it's too complicated for my non-historian ass to actually explain), the Ottomans tried their absolute best to "cleanse" and integrate Greeks into Turkish customs. And you know, they almost did manage that. A ton of what you'll hear are traditional Greek dishes and sweets have their bases in Ottoman cuisine. "Greek coffee" is literally the coffee Ottomans brought during the occupation. MY POINT! IS! That modern Greeks are so far evolved/disconnected from our ancestors that using them as their whole personality is insane, stupid and gives of "superior race" vibes.

And so. with being a proud Greek, comes the racism. At work, I might be able to sneak in a black or middle eastern person on the side of the posters/ads. If I put an Asian, the phone will ring the moment they see it and I will be commanded to remove them from the image.

Like, even if being a casually racist fuck wasn't bad, Greeks are one of the biggest migrant peoples in the fucking west. How in the shit have you returned from England, Romania, Italy, France and most of Europe and USA and still be a racist bastard?

Racism and being way to proud of ancestry aside, let's go to religion!

Greece is heavily Orthodox. Most will attempt to say that religion is not tied to the state and that the Orthodox Church is just one of many. Yeah, fuck no, it isn't. Religion and education are bunched in the same ministry (Hellenic Ministry of Education and Religious Affairs) and I don't think I need to say how not "not tied to the state" that is, right? Anyhow, the Church did give shelter to the rebels during the 1821 rebellion (against the Ottomans) and now they still rub it in the face of the public during speeches. Like, "Remember, you own us your freedom, now hire us with taxpayers' money and also except us from taxes, thanks xoxo." and then driving off in their BMWs.

The Church having such a hold on the country is also one of the reasons why it's such a slog to have any sort of progress. The people listen to the Church first, the government second.

Sexism, racism, homophobia, patriarchy, toxic masculinity and anti-scientific rhetorics thrive here because that's what the Church preaches. And has preached for as long as it has had power.

I was the first generation that was able to be excused from "religious studies" (aka Orthodox brainwashing) and I was the only kid that its parents asked to be removed. Not in my year, but in the whole school (primary education is 6 years here). As 6-12 year olds we were dragged to attend service every fucking week. Literal country-wide brainwashing.

The day I'm writing this part is 17/11, the day when the 1967-1974 Junta assaulted Polytechnic and we are expecting a march. So, speaking of marches, riots and people trying to have a say in their country, let me point you at the 2015 Greek bailout referendum.

A country wide vote to for the people to decide if we should accept the bailout conditions concerning the debt crisis. I was barely 19, depressed and understood very little about politics, but what was clear is that this was (supposed) to be a decision taken by the people, not the politicians. I voted No (weather I was right to do so or not is irrelevant), along with 61.31% of the voting population.

Take a wild guess what the government did. That's right, agreed with the bailout conditions. What? You thought they'd listen to a clear, legal vote from the people? Nope. At least they resigned after, only the agreement had already been sealed.

And you know, I do love this country. I love that you can find ruins in almost every corner. I love the little villages in the mountains. I love that white, sun bleached rock that's characteristic of our islands. I love the myths. I love how I can just walk to the source of the river Styx, how I can climb to the top of the actual Mount Olympus, see and walk on top of Zeus throne (and have done so a couple times <- this is a public flex and i deserve it). I love how the air feels in the mountains and the soil that has been cultivated for thousands of years. I love the rivers and their thin, small canyons. I love the wild, fierce wind of the islands.

I genuinely love this land, and I hate the country.

#greece #also #personal #<- if that's your blocked tag of choice for these rants

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kosmosguk · 5 years ago

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Lineage (M)

Pairing: Duke Yoongi x Princess Reader

Word Count: 6.7K

Summary: When an engagement locks you, the 8th and forgotten princess, to the duke infamous for his cruelty, you find yourself counting the days until your inevitable death. It’s terrifying to think of your end, but when you arrive at his territory, you realize there’s a more morbid reason behind your marriage, and that the duke is much worse than the rumors have painted him out to be.

Warnings: HEAVY yandere themes, mentions of gore and death, near-death experiences, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, dubcon smut (reader is a virgin, fingering, unprotected sex), 18+, explicit language

A/N: Part 1 of Lineage! Took 3 months, a messy outline, and 2 drafts that I decided I hated halfway through writing and deleted before starting over to finish one part. Tags of people who replied to the preview will be added in a reblog. Thank you for everyone who has been waiting and has shown support for the preview of Lineage and my writing account overall! This is inspired by the multitude of Korean webnovels I’ve been reading during quarantine. If you like it, please leave a comment because I will cry out of joy and this took me a WHILE to get out of the drafts. Enjoy!

‘‘Duke,’’ the king’s teeth chattered in terror as he spoke, his voice low. “What have you come to visit me for?”

Yoongi closed his eyes briefly as if he was in thought. Normally, he’d be furious at the lack of efficiency, but something stopped him from simply slicing the fool’s head off with his sword. After all, there was a much more important matter at hand that he needed to deal with.

‘‘My king, you do,’’ Yoongi spoke slowly,’’ remember our deal, don’t you? I win the war against the bordering kingdom and give you a considerable sum, and you…’’

Yoongi directed a pointed look at the king, and the king flinched before hurrying over to his desk. He fumbled around with the papers on it, even knocking down a stack of sealed and stamped documents with his shaking elbows, before extracting a small silver-framed portrait.

Yoongi could see the tremor in the man’s hands as he handed him the portrait, but Yoongi only exhaled softly, almost as if he was relieved, as he took hold of the small painted picture.

Pretty long-lashed eyes that warmly sparkled despite paint being the only medium used, curved lips like budding flowers, and silky tresses that swooped past her delicate shoulders. The maiden etched into the canvas was not known as a beauty compared to her extravagantly dressed older sisters, but to Yoongi, she was worth much more than the other princesses combined. Yoongi gripped the portrait a little tighter, his hands slightly clammy.

‘‘You wanted the 8th princess, Princess [Y/N], as your bride,’’ the ruler before him sputtered. “As soon as you’re ready, I will have the engagement officially announced.”

Yoongi broke out of his reverie and tucked the portrait into the pocket of his coat before getting up from his seat. ‘’Thank you, my King. I will never forget the kindness you have bestowed upon the House of Min.’’

As Yoongi was about to open the door, the king called out once again.

‘‘Duke Min, if I may ask, why do you have so much interest in the 8th princess? I would have never thought she would suit your preferences. If you wanted, you could have the crown princess. Her beauty is known even in distant lands, and she is skilled—”

Yoongi coldly smiled at the pathetically shivering man, interrupting him sharply,’’ Do not interfere in personal matters, my King. Long live the Sun of the Kingdom.’’

The door clicked shut behind him, and the king sagged further into his extravagantly plush ruby couch. For the first time in his greedy life, the king truly felt sympathy for the young princess he had just sold to the notoriously named Duke of Hell.

You kneaded the dough of the bread firmly down onto the table, flour sticking to the crevices in your palms. The harvest had been plentiful that year, although many of the lands surrounding the kingdom had been ravaged by war, and the small palace, which was more like a shack than anything else compared to the palaces of your older siblings, you had in the royal territory was fortunate enough to receive a small portion of the year’s yield.

You had to be quick about kneading the dough. The weather in the kingdom had been warming up as the seasons changed, and if you dawdled, the dough would stick to the table and you’d spend the next half hour trying to scrape it off the wooden surface. You could feel the sun’s warmth on your back, and you hummed a pleasant melody as you kept working.

There were footsteps outside of your palace, a sharp knock on the door, and you paused. It was strange; no one really visited your palace other than the occasional maid, and their visits had dwindled down to barely showing up after they realized how insignificant your position was in the palace. But the maids never knocked; they always burst in, throwing down a basket of food before running off without so much a word.

Could the person outside be lost?

You hastily grabbed a piece of fabric, tying it around your neck to obstruct the view of your collarbone; this had become a habit you developed when you had been taken to the palace in order to hide the strange mark on your clavicle. You hastily pushed open the door, your fingers still crusted with flour-covered dough. The person outside was dressed in the garbs of a messenger, but you noticed that he looked and acted much too elegant to be in the role of a servant; perhaps he had been more blessed with good looks and manners but had no fortune in status, you mused to yourself.

You must have looked more like a maid than a princess because the messenger in front of the door took one look at you and asked,’’ Could you bring me the 8th princess? I carry a message from the palace.”

You smiled pleasantly. “Sir, you’re speaking to her. Are you lost, perhaps? The crown princess’s palace is down the road, and if you take a left, you’ll be right there.’’

The messenger blinked in surprise, his mouth falling open slightly, and he practically trembled as he realized his mistake. “No, this is a message for you! I’m so sorry, Your Highness; please punish this lowly servant for making such a—!”

You shook your head good-naturedly; you were no tyrant after all, having been born more like your mother, a noble of lower class who, albeit poor, was much more noble than those of higher ranking, than your father, the king. That was a fact that you took pride in.

“What message do you come to bring me? No one quite visits this palace,’’ you questioned.

“Your Highness, the 8th Princess of this Kingdom, I pass a message from the Duke of the House of Min to you. Your marriage has been agreed upon by His Majesty, King [L/N]. The Duke requests that you move into his estate as soon as you can so the preparations for marriage can be efficiently arranged and completed,’’ the messenger spoke.

Your smile stiffened, the edges of your lips curved awkwardly as you took in the message with wide eyes. “My marriage?’’ you managed to keep the tremble away from your voice as you asked the question.

“The Duke himself has personally requested of the king that he be bestowed your hand in marriage, Your Highness. He expects you to be done packing anything you find essential from your home by the morning of tomorrow. The wedding will be held the day after you move into his home.’’

You nearly sputtered in shock at the words of the messenger drifted in one ear and out the other, barely registering properly in your incredulous mind. “The wedding?! Isn’t that too soon? The engagement period usually lasts for at least a few months!’’

The messenger tried to smile, as if comforting the shock-stricken you, and he slowly spoke, hesitating,’’ The duke values efficiency above all else. Might I be so bold to say something? Princess...I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about the Duke. May they be either bad or good, please keep in mind one thing: you’ll be safe in his estate. He will protect you well. Good day, Your Highness. I wish you good fortune in your marriage to the Duke.’’

The messenger turned and was about to walk away when you called out,” Can I at least know your name?’’

The messenger turned back around, his eyes wide with surprise. Those of the nobility class never asked a lowly servant their name; names were symbols of rank in the upper classes, and thus the nobility did not care much about names when those names marked the identity of the lower classes. You were different from the other nobles. You looked and spoke just like her; no wonder the Duke was so fond of you.

“My name, Your Highness?’’ his voice hesitated as he spoke, his eyes wide in surprise,’’ Namjoon.’’

“Namjoon,’’ you breathed out, your lips that had been strained in an unnatural, forced smile spread into a genuine smile,’’ Thank you.’’

The nobility never thanked a servant, nor did they smile at them with such warmth. To a servant, a lack of punishment was enough.

Namjoon nodded and left your palace. When he was free from view of you and anyone else lurking around your palace, the ground underneath his feet turned an inky black, swirling like an abyss that was ready to swallow him up. Namjoon took one final glance at your palace, his previously dark eyes glowing an ominous red, and his lips that had been shyly smiling at you twisted into a smirk, flashing off two indents in his cheeks. He could see why the Duke, a man so devoid of warmth and humanity that he was a clear reflection of the demonic blood running in his veins, took such interest in you; you were interesting. Something about you drew him in; was it the kindness you showed, or was it just how hungry your smell made him feel? Whatever it was, Namjoon was sure of one thing: the Prophecy was to be fulfilled. Yoongi would make sure of it, after all.

Namjoon vanished from sight, swallowed up in the black that had dyed the soil in dark wisps of air, and the only trace of him left was a sharp acrid scent of smoke.

You closed the door, your hands trembling as you went back to kneading the bread dough. The warmth of the afternoon sun seemed like a chill on your back now as you prodded and shaped the dough into loaves. Since you were to leave the next morning, it seemed like a waste to bake bread; it wasn’t like you were to eat all of them by the time the dawn came. You would go into the city later after they finished baking and give them out; after your marriage to the duke, you were certain that you would receive no more chances to dress up in the garments of a maid and sneak out into the city.

It was unfortunate, was it not? To go from being the daughter of a lowly noble, one who had unfortunately caught the attention of a tyrannical king and ran away from him to the woods only to be caught and killed, to the forgotten but trapped 8th princess to something to be sold off for the selfish gain of another. You were like a lamb going to the slaughter, desperate to live but powerless.

The Duke was notorious for many things, the kinds of things that were gossiped by maids passing by your palace and left goosebumps prickled on your skin. He was a man who killed as easily as he found it to breathe, a man whose very name was used by the children as a way to scare each other. You were certain that you would be no exception to his murderous rage.

After you returned from the city, barely being able to take in the last wisps of life outside of the cage you had been forced in, and packed your remaining items into a small bag, you fell into an uneasy sleep. In your dream, you saw shadowy figures. They screamed and yelled, and you could only stand there as cold metal pierced your body through the collarbone. It hurt so much; it felt like agony ripping away at your skin, and you could feel your own blood rush down your weakening frame. You woke up before the day came to life, your body wracked in a cold sweat that left your eyes wide open in the pitch black of the night.

The carriage of the House of Duke came right as the light of dawn broke upon the horizon, sending splatters of rosy pink and gold light onto the sky’s canvas. You were drowned in the dappling shades of the new day as you handed the bag to the driver, who remained silent after a formal greeting. You took one final look at the building you had spent half of your life in, watching with unblinking eyes as the home that you had spent many lonely days in disappeared from view.

How were you supposed to feel? There was no jittery high of happiness that came from being married, something that was common throughout the romantic novels you had bought from the city; there was only a foreboding sense of doom. Would the Duke kill you once you stepped off the carriage, or would he enjoy the game of hunting and wait?

Although the House of Min had an estate in the capital of the Kingdom near the palace, the Duke preferred living a secluded life away from the tiring politics of the capital. You understood him on that. The ride was not long to the territory, however; the rich could afford paying to use the small portal stones to travel, which were remnants from the times that there had been magic and gods in the world. What would have been a trip lasting two weeks was narrowed down to a trip of 9 hours.

You arrived at the territory in the early afternoon, your body sore from having remained seating for such an extended period of time; you only had two breaks throughout the trip, one to empty your bladder and another to eat a small lunch at an inn. As you stepped from the carriage down to the ground in front of the manor, your mouth dropped in shock at the size of the Duke’s land. The wealth of the Duke was vast but to see it in person was astonishing. You recalled the trip through his territory; as the magical portal had been on the cusp of his territory and the outer lands, the trip to his estate from that magical portal had taken a solid 2 hours of your trip.

The land for just his estate was large; you could not see the edge of the estate’s land that you had previously entered in earlier. His main manor building loomed above you like a fortress, spiraling black buildings and shadowy crevices, and you felt a wave of anxiety rise in your throat. The manor of the Duke was more like a fortress with its sturdy, impenetrable walls and dark atmosphere. A chill ran down your spine, prickling goosebumps on your otherwise smooth skin, as your eyes scanned the buildings on the estate. There was only one word that could properly describe them: ominous.

Even the atmosphere of the maids lined up in front of you in greeting had you unconsciously tensing, your jaw clenched slightly. You could see their eyes; they were haunting in the way they were so devoid of emotion. You were familiar with how maids were like; they always had some form of emotion in their eyes: either a sickly sweetness as they itched for favor or a mocking expression that didn’t conceal their spite. You fought back a shiver when you heard them open their mouths, their voices in perfect unison as they spoke.

“Welcome, Your Highness, to the Estate of the House of Min. We look forward to serving you from now and into the future.’’

Three of the maids stepped forward, their steps aligned perfectly and their bows matching. They dipped their heads, and one of them spoke. She looked middle-aged, older than the other maids, but the look on her face matched theirs.

“We will be the main maids serving you. I am the head maid of the manor. As the future Duchess of the House of Min, everyone at the manor is at your service. The Duke will—.’’

She paused; you heard a crunching of something underfoot in the silence of the courtyard. Was it stone? The smile that you had forced on your face froze, uncomfortably stiff.

“Welcome, my fiancé,’’ you heard a voice call out. The voice unnerved you more than the expressionless looks on the maids had; it sounded cordial and low, pleasant to the ears even. If your ears had been untrained to the sounds of the nobility, you might even have mistaken it for affection, but you knew that there was no true emotion in the voice, or at least that’s what you assumed. No warm voice could make you feel so terrified after all. You, however, didn’t notice the brief look of shock in the staff in front of you; never, in the whole time they had been serving the Duke, had he sounded so gentle.

You looked toward the sound, your fear cleanly masked by your frozen smile; after being mocked by the queen, concubines, and their children as a child with lowly blood, you were good at training your expressions. The more you squirmed, the sicker the nobles’ expressions got, which is why you spent your later years at the palace hiding away in your palace, hoping that you would continue to be forgotten. The Duke was no exception to this; if you crumbled before him, he was sure to crush you under his polished shoe. You couldn’t die yet. You had not much to live for, that you admit, but the core essence of humanity was its desire to survive. To live.

The Duke stood before you. His demeanor was elegant, but you could sense an imposing aura radiating from him. He was good-looking, though; from the rumors you had heard from passing maids, you envisioned a hideous monster with sharp teeth and claws for hands who would rip out your throat for breathing too loudly. He looked like a statue delicately carved by an artist with his smooth, white skin, like alabaster and marble, and sharp, handsome features. His nose slanted gorgeously, his jawline was strong, and his lips were softly curved.

But the most distinct feature of his were his eyes. They were shaped elegantly, curving in a refined shape, but it was the color that left your feet glued to the ground. You had heard the rumors but seeing it in person was another ordeal. His eyes were a vibrant shade of crimson, the color of freshly spilled blood, and there was an eerie depth to them. They were, you recalled, the eyes of the devil. A chilling thought came to your mind as you stared into his eyes. They were the same color as the mark on your neck. You unconsciously tightened your fingertips around the scarf you had carefully looped around your neck.

“What has your mind so distracted?’’ the Duke smiled, but although you should have felt calmed by the sight, his smile unnerved you for some reason,’’ Everything has been properly arranged for our wedding tomorrow, if that is what you are scared of. If you desire, you may look over the plans and arrange it however you like.’’

The Duke had walked closer to you when you hadn’t been paying attention, and you flinched when he reached out towards you, his fingertips brushing the side of your cheek affectionately. Your heartbeat raced in your chest; however, instead of the giddy heart thrumming that was depicted in romantic novels, your heartbeat racing was purely because of anxiety. The presence of the Duke made you feel like a small prey in front of the menacing gaze of an apex predator. Would he snap your head off? Twist your delicate neck in his hands?

He took his touch away from your cheek as your thoughts raced, his fingers snagging into your scarf accidentally. The scarf fell down to the ground, and his eyes widened in glee slightly. Your hand flew to your clavicle, covering the mark there. You didn’t know why, but something in your gut told you to not let him near the mark. His eyes glowed for a split second, the color of a polished ruby glistening in light, before dimming back to their normal color; you blinked rapidly, wondering if you had imagined the change.

“My deepest apologizes, Your Highness. You must be exhausted from your trip. We don’t want you too tired for our wedding. Your maids will take you to the room you will be staying in tonight,’’ the Duke smiled politely once again, hesitantly stepping back, his composure poised,’’ I am looking forward to our union. Rest up. I have a meeting later, so unfortunately, we won’t be sharing a meal tonight.’’

He turned to leave, his eyes lingering on your collarbone, and you stayed glued to the ground, your hand still covering your mark. The head maid reached out with another scarf in her hands, and you took it, your fingers trembling slightly, before wrapping it around your neck. You knotted it two more times than usual this time, your eyes trained on the Duke’s retreating back.

You did not notice it at the time, your mind too busy wandering in your thoughts, but the previously emotionless expressions on the maids’ faces flickered with fear before quickly shifting back. As you turned your gaze back towards them, you mused to yourself once more. How odd was it that their expressions had not changed even once?

The room you were staying in was lovely; of course, that was to be expected from one of the top noble families in the kingdom, if not the whole land. Billowy drapes hung from vast windows, detailed gold embroidery sparkling in the brightening sunlight, and there were expensive pieces of furniture adorning the large room. The price of one of the candlesticks would be enough to cover the expenses of a peasant family for a year.

You had an unrestful sleep; nightmares plagued your dreams once again. They were more vivid this time, and you could still feel the agony of cold metal piercing through your soft flesh. The mark on your collarbone seemed to throb and burn against your skin, and you dragged your nails against it, trying to quell the itching sting. You somehow fell asleep once more, and when you woke up, the dreams had vanished from your mind, and the only remnants of your nightmares was a clammy coldness that lingered on your body and red lines on your mark from your nails.

You heard a knock on the door.

“Your Highness, may we come in? We will be preparing you for the wedding,’’ you recognized the voice of the head maid.

You inhaled a deep breath, trying to recover from your body’s cold sweat and slow the frantic pounding of your heart before calling out calmly,’’ Come in.’’

The maids came in, walking in calmly with their hands full of items.

The head maid was the one who had spoken outside, and as she walked near you, you held out a wary hand.

“If you are to serve me, I must know your name,’’ you spoke, trying to put on the dignified airs that was similar to the queen, or your stepmother, though you refused to refer to her with that title.

“My name, Your Highness?’’ the head maid looked taken aback, her eyes on the floor,’’ I’m sorry, but the names of servants are an insignificant thing to be known in this household. I only go by my position, here, as head maid. If you wish to know my name to have me punished, please just ask for the head maid to be punished.’’

You could tell that this was some unspoken rule and forced down the part of you that wished to rebel and find her name. If you were to pressure her over something so mild, unpleasant rumors would spring forth.

You followed their directions silently as they prepared you, and you ate small bites of the meal they had laid out when you had completed your morning routine. They then changed you into your wedding garment, tying up the corset around your torso so tightly that you could barely breathe when they were done. You could feel their gazes lingering on the mark you had on your collarbone; you were used to the looks, the mockery and the disdain, but their gazes were different. Was it curiosity? Hell, admiration? Or perhaps, fear?

Hours stretched and passed as they worked on your hair and makeup. Your scalp and skin were prodded at by them as they worked to prepare you. When they were finally done, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror and was left breathless at your reflection.

Your hair had been coiled up in an elaborate up-do and decorated with sparkling hair pieces that weighed down your head. The dress was made by one of the capital’s top designers and fit you perfectly, as if the measurements of your body were known by the Duke’s Household down to a tee; it showed off your neck and the mark on your neck, and when you had asked to find something to cover the mark up, the maids shook their heads.

“The Duke wishes for this style of dress; unfortunately, nothing can be used to cover up your neck properly, and the dress can not be changed,’’ the head maid told you.

The dress, other than expose society’s stigma imprinted upon your flesh, was gorgeous. It was a pure white, sparkling with small pieces of carefully cut diamond, and tastefully accentuated by delicately beaded pearls. It wrapped around your torso and flared out into wide, layered skirts, a style that was extremely trendy in the capital. You looked stunning in the dress.

The maids had done extremely well on your makeup too; your skin glowed and was soft like a baby, and your lips were reddened to the color of cherries. Your cheeks were reddened as well, a blush delicately touching your cheeks. You looked ethereal, like a mystical being descending upon earth, though you embarrassingly believed that it was rather conceited of you to think that.

The head butler—you vaguely remembered him from the staff yesterday, although he had not spoken a word to you after the initial greeting—guided you to a carriage silently after politely greeting you, which led down to the church building in which you were to be married in.

Your fingers twisted in your fine white skirts as the rush of anxiety churned in your gut; you were grateful that your breakfast had been light, or else you would have hurled it all over the floor of the carriage.

You somehow managed to keep it together, even when you stepped down from the carriage. You even managed to keep your composure together as you walked towards the Duke, standing in front of the church, with the Kingdom’s Priest standing behind him. The church was filled to the brim with people, mostly nobles who vied for some connection with the Duke. You could even see the King in the front, watching you with eyes that told you not to mess your marriage up.

You even managed to keep it together underneath the burning sting of the Duke’s eyes as the Priest recited aloud the vows of marriage. You gazed back into the Duke’s eyes, watching the reflection of the sunset’s lights glow in their cold depths as the priest concluded the ceremony.

“May this couple’s union, placed together by the holy goddess of creation that had formed the earth, be a blessing upon the Kingdom.’’

You felt the mark on your collarbone throb slightly, a dull ache, but, in that moment, you had believed it to be a part of the bone-aching exhaustion that had settled deep into your body’s marrow.

The first duty of marriage was the consummation of it. You were aware of what went on, having ventured off into the city and gotten your hands onto romance novels that had their fair share of obscene scenes, but to be experiencing it firsthand, that was something that terrified you. The pain of having your virginity taken had been described in detail in the novels, and you could feel a pit of nerves form as the maids led you to get prepared for your first night as a married couple.

The maids bathed you, as the head maid crooned to you low in your ear the duty you were to fulfill. They rubbed fragrant rose oils into your skin, as the head maid repeated over and over the instructions and her condolences for the night, and dressed you in a nightgown—it was a soft, clear pink that scandalously showed off your figure—that was more like an undergarment than anything.

Then, the maids led you to the room you were to share with your husband. As the head maid was about to open the door, she spoke one last time,’’ Duchess, I have done my best to inform you of your first night. May the fortune of the goddess of creation bless you upon your first night as the Duke’s wife.’’

The room was dark when you stepped in, and it would have been pitch black had it not been for the wispy pale rays of moonlight glowing through the large glass windows. This room, through your adjusting vision, was certainly much more beautiful and elegant than the room you had used for your temporary one-night stay. You saw the Duke standing in front of one of the windows, his eyes on you, unnervingly unblinking. Although his gaze remained eerie, you could not deny the ethereal beauty that radiated off of him as he watched you with ruby eyes.

As you were admiring his looks, you noticed that he had taken steps forward before pausing before you. His eyes looked at yours before roaming your body, and you noticed that there was an almost carnal hunger glowing in his crimson-red eyes. He looked starving, and you realized, unconsciously wrapping your arms around your body, that you were the meal he was to satiate his hunger with.

You could not help but flinch when the Duke pulled you forward into his arms and kissed you, his lips harsh against your own as he stole your breath from your lungs. His teeth snagged into your bottom lip, digging into it. There was nothing gentle in the kiss; nothing sweet and romantically sentimental like what had been described in romance novels.

His hands, the palms roughened from his days on the battlefield, caressed your body, slipping underneath your night gown. You gasped breathlessly against his mouth at the cool touch on your warm body, a sound that was swallowed up by his lips as his tongue delved into your mouth, and you clung onto the thin fabric of his night clothes.

“D-duke,’’ you managed to breath out shakily when he finally broke away from this kiss. You were about to say something more, but the sight of your lips, bruised and swollen from the Duke’s harsh kiss caused his eyes to darken in lust.

“When you are with just me, call me Yoongi,’’ he rasped, and the sound of his voice near your ear caused pleasurable shivers to travel down your spine. You felt something wet between your legs, and your cheeks flushed in shyness, your eyes widening in embarrassment. That look of pure innocence seemed to cause something in the infamously cool-headed Duke to snap. Yoongi’s actions were more hurried as he practically tore the dainty dress from your body, and the breath in your chest was knocked out as you were thrown onto the large bed.

His touch felt like it was burning against your body as it touched you in intimate ways. You tried to block his touch anxiously, but he simply brushed off your hands as if you had no strength; against his overpowering strength, you were utterly weak. You closed your eyes anxiously when you felt him suck bruises into your neck and then on your breasts, leaving bite marks blooming on your quivering skin like roses on silk, but you felt a sharp ache in your jaw as he grabbed your chin harshly and lifted your head to face him.

“Look at me. I want you to witness your first night with me, my beloved wife.’’

His voice was sharp despite the pained rasp coating its tone, radiating with an authority so powerful that you found yourself snapping open your eyes to look at him in mute shock. In the dim lighting of the night, with only the ghosts of the moon to leave a sheen of waning light on his handsome face, the Duke—no, Yoongi—looked lethal.

Your mouth fell open in a wide o-shape when his touch brushed down your soft breasts to your stomach and then finally to the most intimate spot on your body. His index finger swirled around your bud, sparking little shocks down your spine before venturing lower. His first finger stretched your walls, going deep into the sacred garden that had been guarded since you had been born, and you could only pant helplessly. There was a buzz in your head, something heady that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, as Yoongi touched places deep within you.

He added another finger and the another, and your mind spun as your walls stretched and clung onto his fingers. You clutched onto his clothes tighter, holding your breath, as he explored your walls. He dragged his fingers out, his movements slow and gentle, before he slammed them viciously into you; you choked on a sound that was a mix between a gasp and a moan. He repeated the movements until you were writhing under his touch before pulling his fingers out of you. His fingers were drenched in a honey-like substance, and you, with your ears burning, watched as he sucked on his fingers.

“My beloved wife, my goddess,’’ Yoongi’s voice sounded ragged, as if he was about to fall apart, and his fingers, sticky with dried saliva and your essence, curled up under his garments and peeled them off,’’ I can’t wait any longer.’’

“W-wait,’’ you stuttered out pathetically as he pushed something firm but soft and undeniably hot against your garden. Yoongi paid no heed to your word as he pushed into your walls mercilessly without so much a pause, and your heart raced as you realized what was invading your innocence. There was a throbbing agony as he got deeper and deeper, a feeling that was much more painful than his fingers had been. You clung onto his shoulders when he finally stopped moving in, tears building up in your eyes and dripping down your cheeks. When the head maid and your romance novels had talked about the pain, they had described the pain as fleeting, a sharp pinch that faded away quickly. This was different; you could feel your lower regions burning in agony as they stretched and trembled around Yoongi’s length.

At the sight of your tears, the look on Yoongi’s face was practically feral. Without waiting for you to get accustomed to the feeling of your purity being torn apart, Yoongi pulled out and slammed back in, his hips setting a tormenting pace that made you squeal in pain.

“Please pull out; oh my God,’’ you gasped out, your nails digging into his skin,’’ It hurts, it hurts so bad.’’

Yoongi let out a grunt in response, his breath choppy as he forced his voice from his throat. “The pain will go away soon. If we don’t fulfill our first duty of marriage, then the marriage will be considered void by law. Do you want that? The next man the King marries you to…’’

Yoongi’s eyes turned deadly, as if the thought of another man even touching you set him on a murderous outrage, and you trembled at the idea. The next man would undeniably be a portly, greasy lower noble, who would take you as his concubine as your purity had already been taken by the Duke. Your future children would be spat on by those around them, an experience that you had gone through but would never wish on your children.

Yoongi spoke again, a question this time. “Will you endure the temporary pain, or will you refuse and endure a much more lasting pain as someone who lost her purity but did not fulfill her first duty?’’

You could feel him inside you, pulsing and twitching, and you swallowed your nerves. Although Yoongi had worded it as a choice, you knew it was not. It was anything but. You already knew the decision you had to take before he finished asking.

“Please,’’ you begged, softening your voice in order to incite some pity from this brute of a man,’’ Be more gentle?’’

His lips twisted into a carnivorous smile, something that caught you off guard and left you in a short daze, and his only answer was him pulling out of you before pushing back in. The pain was rough at first, but you could tell that the Duke had taken into consideration your plea, at least he did so at first. When the first pricks of pleasure sparked in your gut, your head slammed back and you moaned before panting out a shameless,’’ Duke, Yoongi, please, faster.’’

You looked ravishing in this state; marks littered on your soft skin, and your face in an arousing expression with your swollen lips parted open in shaky breaths and your eyes glazed in desire. You looked like the embodiment of sin itself against the pure white sheets of the bed. The constraints that Yoongi had placed on himself snapped, his hips slamming against you hard, an erotic sound of the clapping of skin echoing in the night, that left your skin feeling heated and flushed. You only mewled in response as he began to pound into your body. He was animalistic, the cold airs he had been encased in dropped as a rosy flush tinted his pale marble face. You felt like you were being intoxicated by the sensations of pleasure and sin.

He pushed in even deeper than before, and you felt an uncomfortable pain as his length pushed against your cervix. Your air left your lungs at the feeling, and your nails dug even further into the Duke’s broad shoulders, leaving drops of blood in its wake. The Duke didn’t even flinch at the pain, burying his head into your shoulder to let out an almost growl-like noise. You were so fucking tight; it was like you were squeezing around him, refusing to let him go.

You felt sensitive, your nerves heightened as the whirl of pleasure building in your gut climbed. Your eyes remained wide open, your dizzy mind remembering the Duke’s earlier command, and your back arched slightly as a wave of pleasure crashed into you. Your vision went blurry as you crashed into your first climax; you were coming, tightening around him so hard that your mind went completely blank.

You could feel Yoongi’s teeth sink into your collarbone, a flash of white digging into your red mark, and the pain coupled with the pleasure cascading onto your limp body caused you to let out a lewd choked moan. Yoongi slammed into you, his pace steady and stable as his breath grew more erratic, before he pushed deep into you, a groan pulling out deep from his chest. You felt something hot spill into the depths of your body, and your fingers and toes twitched at the feeling.

You were exhausted as he pulled out of you. He was still painfully hard, but you were so tired, and the lull of sleep was so tempting. Your vision blurred, and your eyes drooped shut as you fell into an unconscious state, ignoring the pulsing sting of your collarbone. The last thing you saw before you were swept up in a rush of sleep was a flash of red eyes, the look of them so vivid against the darkness of the deep night, and Yoongi licking off droplets of your blood off of his lips, his lips curved up in a menacing smile.

“Goodnight, my beloved wife,’’ Yoongi spoke out into the silence, his fingers reaching out to entwine themselves into strands of your hair,’’ May the dreams that reach you be a blessing.’’

He brought up a stand of your hair to his lips, his lips touching it tenderly.

“And may our marriage bring us both fortune beyond what humanity can perceive, my Goddess.’’

A/N: if you want to be tagged in the next part, please reply with a 👑! And if you liked the story, please leave a comment or a review! Thank you so much for being here for my writing journey :) I’ll do my best to keep improving.

Part 2

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phanfictioncatalogue · 3 years ago

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Monthly Follower Recs

Monthly follower recommendations for the month of August 2022

A Call (ao3) - pinkstory

Summary: Phil gets a call from a number he doesn't recognize, he leaves it to Dan to deal with.

a house made of cards (ao3) - cityofphanchester

Summary: Phil sits on a patterned carpet and touches the edge of an elaborate glass coffee table and contemplates appearances. How it would look if he left early. How it would look if he left with Dan. How it looks, right now, for him not to be talking to anyone.

(vidcon 2014)

A New Blue (ao3) - watergator

Summary: The build up to when Dan meets Phil, and Dan is questioning his sexuality.

a safe place to land (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: "Please tell me you didn't go home with a stranger." He types it and sends it, even though he knows this is not the response Dan is waiting for. (Dan and Phil being Internet friends in July 2009.)

Broke, Gay and New in Town (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan Howell was in dire need for a change - he hated his job and his life and he just felt stuck. His grandfather’s letter was a blessing that came with an incredible gift: A farm. Dan had no idea how to run a farm but he was willing to give it a try.

He arrived in Stardew Valley with few expectations but even so, he could never have imagined he would encounter magic, otherworldly creatures, corporate conspiracies, so many queer villagers, a secret destiny and right at the centre of it all the love of his life.

Evolution (ao3) - breatherepeat

Summary: While on family holiday, Dan and his family learn more about one another. Past truths are revealed that lead to understanding and healing.

Continuation of the Learning to Love Yourself series. Can be read as a stand alone, but there are multiple references to the original 5 part series.

(TW) Get Out Your Damn Umbrellas (ao3) - llamalamp

Summary: This fic is based on a brilliant work by wordsongs called When It Rains It Pours (which unfortunately has been deleted). There will be several plot deviations, and the text and dialogue will be quite different, but I can’t take any credit for the storyline.

"Phil's only gone for one weekend. Apparently that's all the time it takes for everything to fall apart."

Basically this is how I imagined the story would go as an established relationship fic instead of slow burn. The result isn’t really any less painful.

Let the Human In - rainbowchristy

Summary: It’s just a regular workday for Phil. Doing rounds with his patients, helping out with the occasional emergency department case. The only difference? He has one new patient in the ED. One found unconscious on the street. One who starts throwing up from seemingly nothing. One, with a very dark backstory and no hope for the future.

Live Incidentally (ao3) - yikesola

Summary: At thirty-two, Phil’s fine with this lot in life— manager for Printzoid, a flat he rents on his own in a relatively nice part of London, friends he sees at least twice a month for board game nights, an ex-fiancé he’s trying damn hard to get over, and a brother who means well even if Martyn doesn’t understand why Phil insists there’s a distinction between their father’s artwork being creative and Martyn’s music being creative and Phil’s novelty t-shirts being... not-creative. A fic about adulthood and opening up.

not a chew toy? (ao3) - phantasticworks

Summary: Apparently some things aren’t meant to be chewed on. Who knew?

Only Us (ao3) - Lizzyboo

Summary: Phil is starting to think that maybe what he has to offer Dan just isn’t enough anymore.

permanent (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: Phil gets a tattoo :3

Porcelain and Window Panes - botanistlester

Summary: Dan sees a a beautiful man doodling on a foggy window in a cafe and can’t get him out of his head. He comes everyday at the same time to see the beautiful stranger.

Sea Glass (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: Phil arrives on the Isle of Man to house-sit at his family’s cabin while it’s repaired and sold. Except the cabin’s in far worse shape than expected, and Phil’s got to find somewhere else to stay (Phil POV)

security! (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan comes home to Phil after tour rehearsals. They cook, kiss and banter. And Dan reflects on the word "security".

strike a deal, kiss my lips (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Witches were the only magical beings capable of binding and controlling demons. It required a complicated ritual and crazy amounts of magic.

It happening on accident was practically unheard of until Phil came along and got tangled up with a snarky and dangerous demon named Dan. Suddenly bound together, Phil must grapple with control over a chaotic demon that wants to strip the skin from his bones.

And maybe strip the clothes off of his body as well.

The city is so loud (but you drown out all the noise) (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Phil's pack might have kicked him out for mating with a human, but his love for Dan was much stronger than anything he'd ever experienced before. It wasn't easy to adjust to living with Dan in his - now their - small flat in London, but Phil would do it again in a heartbeat. With Dan by his side, Phil was sure he could get used to all the weird things humans did.

the second tetris block (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Things seem to be falling into place for Phil.

turn this house into a home (ao3) - possumdnp

Summary: A 2009-centric fic about starting to find pride in your identity for the first time, and finding family who helps you do that (even if it’s not the family you were born into)

We’ll Never Be Royals Extended - phanimist

royalty au where phil's the kind handsome prince and dan's a poor commoner who dreams of becoming world class musician. phil's parents hold a ball so he can meet his suitors, but he ends up falling for the pianist instead.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #recs #followerrecs

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shockinglysubmissive · 4 years ago

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One Day Down

WARNINGS: Stripping, Fingering (Reader receiving), Squirting

This is my piece for @missuga Love and Lockdown Collab

WC: 2K

“One day down, 13 more to go. Care to play a game to kill some time?” Your boyfriend asks, looking through your closest of board games. The pandemic had shut everything down, and Kuroo was unable to take the bus back to his apartment, so you two were trapped together for the next two weeks. He doesn’t wait for your response, finding a box and tugging it out of the stack carefully. “How about this one? It will kill at least two hours.” He holds out Monopoly, a smirk spread across his face.

“No way Tetsu! You get way too competitive! We still have nearly two weeks together. We can’t start hating each other already.” Despite your disagreeing words, you start to clear off the coffee table in front of you for the board. He sits down across from you, using a pillow to make the hardwood floor more comfortable.

“Oh. You are so mistaken. It won’t be a normal game of monopoly. Oh no no no Kitten, this will be so much more.” His eyes narrow, sliding a piece of paper over to you. You unfold it and scan over it quickly.

Shoes: $50

Socks or Tights: $50

Sweater or Jacket: $50

Shirt or Top: $100

Pants or Skirt: $100

Dress: $200

Bra: $300

Underwear: $500

“Are… are you serious? Strip monopoly?” You can’t help but giggle as he starts sorting cards. You don’t notice when he slips a stack of cards from his pocket, mixing them into the stack until they are mixed in fully. “If you wanted to see me naked you could have just asked to join me in the shower.” You add.

“ But this will be so much more fun. Seeing you all angry, your pretty tits pushed together with crossed arms because you realize you have to sell your panties and lose the game.” He sets the chance cards on their spot and sets the player pieces out on the board for you to pick.

Your fingers trace the ship, smirking as you pick it up and hand it to him. “Here you can be the ship because you’re going down.” You flash him an innocent smile as he picks up the dog.

“Fine, but you’ll be this one because I’m going to make you my bitch.” He says simply, eyes shining with joking excitement. You distribute the money, rolling your eyes as you start the game.

After a few turns, you had to sell your shirt for money to buy a property, and Kuroo sold his pants to pay for landing on your space. On your next turn, you land on a Chance space. You read it and blush bright red, having drawn one of the cards he had slipped in.

“Money is tight. Give another player a lapdance to steal an item of clothing from them.” Not giving him the chance to tease you for blushing, you move to his side of the table, straddling his lap and give him a half hearted dance. Tugging on the bottom of his shirt, you pull it over his head and put it on yourself. “Thank you for your shirt. Looks like I am fully dressed again.” You take your seat on the other side of the table again. He blinks at you slightly taken aback. “What? I never said that I would make this easy on you.“ You look at him innocently, Adjusting his shirt, which is too big for you.

A growl rumbles in his chest. He knows that you are winning, that doesn't stop him from being competitive. “The game's not over yet. I said I would make you my bitch, and I still intend to do that. I'm just letting you win for the moment because you look so cute when you smile.” Although he is smiling, there is a bit of anger in his words. You have known him for years, and Tetsu can be very competitive. He enjoys being the cunning one who wins. He hates when you are able to beat him without even trying to.

“ Mm.. Ok whatever makes you happy. I’ll let you believe that you will win.” You count your money, and organize the properties that you have collected so far. Unaware of the anger filling your boyfriend, his dick hardens seeing his shirt slide down your shoulder some.

The game continues for many more turns, clothes being sold, but chance cards giving clothes back. In the final few turns, Kuroo buys hotels for his blue properties, and you land on them. One having $50, and your panties left, you had to give up, letting your boyfriend win. Despite getting exactly what he wanted, he didn’t look happy. Your arms are crossed over your chest, a small pout settling on your face wanting him to look at you. Instead he just packs up the game.

“What’s wrong with you? You won! You get to see me naked and you’re still huffing and pouting like a child. What more do you want?” You demand, knowing that this game would end poorly. He glances up at you, his expression is unreadable. He stays silent, still refusing to acknowledge you, a slight scowl on his face. “Kuroo! I knew this game was a bad idea. I’m just going to bed. You can sleep on the couch if you want to keep acting like this.”

“You’ve been teasing me this whole game.” He says simply. You look shocked. Of all the reasons for him to be mad, it was because you teased him. Your boyfriend is known for being a giant tease, and he can’t handle receiving any.

“Hate to break it to you, but you were taunting me way more than I was with you. You get too competitive.” You mumble, grabbing your clothes to get dressed again. “I played the game that you wanted! You always tease me, so I thought I could do the same. Guess I was wrong. I will give you your space.” Houses and hotels are scattered as he drops them to grab your wrist, pulling you to make you sit on your knees so that you can see how his boxers have a large spot of precum soaking through. You swear that you can see him throbbing, even though the fabric.

His grip tightens as he begins to speak. “Biting your lip while thinking, letting your tits bounce when you get excited, slowly sliding off every piece of clothing. Oh and let's not forget the way that your fingertips would absent-mindedly drift to your exposed nipples. You would play it off like you were playing with your hair, but I saw the way your breathing changed.” He leans his face closer to yours, letting his warm breath fan against your ear. “We have 13 days let before we can leave this apartment, and I intend to fuck you so good you can’t walk right until then, understood?” He whispers in your ear. You swallow hard and nod, knowing that he will do just that.

Even when the sex between you both is slow and full of love and passion, he never fails to leave you so fucked out that you lose all ability to think. Seeing the look in his eyes from wanting you so bad, you knew that you were in for a lot of aches tomorrow.

He shoves the remaining game pieces on the floor, setting you on the coffee table. Using the fact that you lost, and were fully undressed to his advantage, he settles himself on his knees between your legs. “Think you can take me, or do you need me to stretch you out?” His voice is gentle as his fingers trace along your already slick folds. Unable to wait for you to answer, he slips his long middle finger into you. A soft moan leaves his lips as you lift your hips to feel his finger deeper. His own need is overshadowed by the desire to make you cum.

“Want more. Please Tetsu. I want you to stretch me out.” Your voice comes out a bit whinier than you hoped, desperate to feel the deep feelings that only he can give you. Taking mercy on you, he slides his ring finger in, curling both until he finds your g-spot. He quickens his ministrations, savoring in the way you react to him. His cock twitches, but he ignores it, too lost in the moans coming from your mouth.

When his thumb starts to circle your clit, you instinctively try to pull away, feeling pressure building in your core. “Ah. No moving.” He presses down just above your pelvic bone, creating more stimulation against your sweet spot. You squirm even more, feeling as if you may explode if the pressure builds any more. “Let go baby. Stop holding back. Relax.” His lips graze down your inner thigh.

At his words, the pressure releases, and you soak his hand with your cum. Your vision blurs and your hands roam to find something to hold on to. Settling for gripping your chest, your hips grind weakly against his hand until you become too sensitive.

He finally removes his hand, fingers dripping with your cum. Popping his fingers in his mouth, he lets out a soft moan. “Fuck I will never get tired of how good you taste.” He leans down and laps at your cum soaked folds. His delicate kitten licks move to your clit and you try to pull away.

“Tetsu… I want you to fuck me. I want you to feel good too.” You tug his hair to pull him up to look at you, eyes begging him to stuff you full. He hesitates for a moment, wanting to continue tasting you, but also wanting to fuck you so hard that neither one of you can think straight anymore. “Baby.” Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and he is hovering over you.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you attach your lips to his, opening your mouth just enough that his tongue slips into your mouth. His tongue tastes faintly like your cum, and you can’t help but blush. You slide your hands down his chest, clumsily tugging his boxers down. Pumping his cock to smear the precum, you move to line him up with your entrance.

“My needy girl. Don’t worry. I’m going to make you feel so good. I’m gonna make you cum all over me.” He pushes into you with one fluid snap of his hips. Your walls clamp down around him, already trying to milk him for all the cum he has. “If you aren’t… fuck… if you don’t stop I won’t be able… oh god… to move.” He half begs, trying to keep control as he rocks against you.

“Can’t help it. You just feel so good in me. I want to cum around you already.” Your voice comes out as needy, body already teetering on the edge just from his tip kissing your cervix as he rocks against it. Still sensitive from your first intense orgasm, then his tongue teasing every inch of your pussy, you feel as if you could cum again.

“Not yet baby. Just hold off for a little longer. I want you to cum with me.” He grits his teeth as he builds up to a steady pace. Tears start to well in your eyes as it becomes almost painful to not cum. “It’s okay. Just breathe. It’s going to be okay. A little longer. It will feel so good when you finally cum with me.” He tries to calm your nerves, kissing away the tear that slipped down your cheek.

You cling to his shoulders, mind going numb, and only being able to think about how good his dick is making you feel. “Cum for me. Fuck.” His voice tugs you back to reality just enough to realize you no longer have to hold back. Creaming all over him, you moan his name against his neck, trembling in his arms as he fucks his cum into you.

It takes you both a few moments to come back down from your highs, suddenly aware of the discomfort you feel from the coffee table. “Game night was fun, but can we fuck somewhere more comfortable tomorrow?” You ask softly, giggling softly against his shoulder.

@bummie @izukine @writesmcgee

#kuroo tetsurō #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #hq #haikyuu #hq smut #haikyuu smut #✨.crystal warnings

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bakingandbooks3 · 4 years ago

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A Court of Song and Serpents

A bit short but the begging of a project I'm SO excited for- hope you love this as much as I do.

Summary: What a time to be alive as Nesta Archeron, going backward to move forward and finding that the places she once called home are now empty tombs.

Nesta

Nesta held her breath for a moment, a pause, and stilled entirely. The Court of Nightmares. She knew the verdict would be severe, but never would she have expected exile to a world of terror. The horrors of that place, of how it was once the main residence of the High Lord- till Rhysand.

Rhysand, the man who boasted of lands bountiful with choice and reason, now sat across from her donning unmasked hatred. A look he kept shielded from his mate, reserved just for Nesta. The kind that rips one apart from the inside out, would carve out the belly of a beast, burn a witch on a wooden pyre.

Nesta felt nothing, she always did. It wasn’t hard to see what he was thinking of her, how his beautiful wife’s wretched sister was little more than a gambling thief who slept her way through his glorious city. Now, fingers smeared that blank canvas so pure of her darkest shades.

Eyes flicking back, she studied that same sister. The Cursebreaker, the Savior.

How small and insignificant she became next to the glimmering shining thing Feyre was. The lands spoke of her beauty and kind touch, and how she sacrificed everything to save a world of people, and Fae that she was raised to despise.

Nesta wished it’d be known that her touch wasn’t always kind.

She built her bricks firm enough that her house of grace never shattered; Held firm, it was all she had left in her. Too many eyes on her filled with grief, excitement, retribution-Nesta was keenly aware of how this Court of Dreams felt of her.

“This is an exile.”

Rhysand's smirk peaked so slightly, his mate tensing.

“No, no. This is an intervention, a chance for you to find yourself away from bad influences and habits. You can’t keep living like this, and I refuse to let it continue happening and I take the fall for it. Your decisions are impractical and immoral. You are sober much less than you are drunk and-”

“If you’re going to condemn me, do it. But don’t sit here and act as if this is out of kindness.” Nesta snarled. She hated the barbed words, but it’s what she felt. “Who are you to question my morality?”

“I think I can speak for my wife when I say that your presence here is….” Rhysand growled but pulled back, like he forgot Feyre was right there, too.

Nesta wished he would’ve let go, so maybe that facade Rhys reserved for Feyre was broken. No, that’s cruel. As much as she hated this and him, he was making her sister happy.

Something Nesta could never do.

“I do not give a shit what my presence is doing. The decision has already been made, so stop scolding me like a child and make good on your word, Rhysand.” Bile rose in her throat, the words feeling nothing but slimy and disgusting. Foreign, yet habitual all the same. Sometimes, she forgets there once was a woman called Nesta who was so much more than the viper living in her now.

Sometimes she remembers that she can’t ever be her again.

Home was nowhere for her, not in a person, not in a place, certainly not in this bombastic group of “heroes”. Nesta didn’t need a hero, she just needed someone to care. But Nesta knew better, no one would. She was taught to be unlovable, just a woman to be sold off and married- to climb her mothers' ever-growing social ladder.

But Nesta on her own was never enough, even with her mother six feet under and rotted away there were unsung expectations unmet. She was a catastrophic failure and a dark smear on a family name that never truly held weight to her.

Nesta looked up, felt everything all at once again, could only see one man pacing a worn-through tether between them. He wasn’t going to stop this, but she could see it, how it looked like he wanted to jump out of his own flesh, the veins of his arm prominent and knuckles normally so brown a new fresh fallen snow.

There was no prince to save Nesta, much less any will to save herself. So when Mor took the pleasure of bringing her to a living Hell, Nesta did not fight.

She was tired of fighting, after all, she fought an inescapable fate for the first twenty years of her life…

Flowers always made Nesta sneeze, but Elain lit like lights during winter whenever she could thread them through her hair. They all symbolized something, Laine would say. There are ones for good days, and hard storms, for sunshine and stars.

Nesta was always adorned in flowers that paralleled the estate. Astute, cold, tired, where she was warm, comforting, and smelled like cookies- ones that Celia normally baked for the sisters. She never asked Laine why she picked the ones for her that she did, her reasons would stay silent for now.

Spring was a high time of activity in the Archeron estate. There was always a flurry of activity, from preparing their mothers' obscene balls, to guests at every corner in every room. The halls were sprinkled in candles and on walls hung frames nearly kissing it was packed so tight.

They were in the gardens. It was an Elain day, as the girls would call it, and no matter how boring or mundane her wishes were they’d be fulfilled. Nesta was propped on the floor in front of Laine, who was bunching handfuls to weave in tangled auburn coils that gathered on Nesta’s head- as a bird's nest would.

Eventually, Nesta would have to learn braids or risk knotting the curls entirely.

The eldest basked in the silence she created from mentally muting her middle sister, and spared a glance at Feyre. What she saw was not surprising, but required far more willpower than she expected to not burst into laughter and risk the flowery rat's nest on her scalp.

Feyre appeared to be so bored out of her mind she was eating discarded flowers of Elains. Actually, ingesting them, as if she was a critique. When Elain wasn’t looking at Feyre, she’d grab another couple and study them- analyzing her next experiment. Glaring at the blues and yellows as if she was speaking to them, “Which one of you will make me puke the fastest so I can run away?”

In time, Feyre looked up from her taste tests to see Nesta grinning at her so violently you’d think Feyre hung the moon.

And Feyre beamed back, crossing a pinkie across her chest and pointing it back to Nesta. Then she viciously spit out the grass she’d just finished chewing, crying directly at Laine, “This MUST stop at once, my stomach hurts far too much to continue on here.”

Elain, in a garden so quiet, simply ignored her sister's poor attempts at escape. Making Nesta work even harder to stifle the shaking of her shoulders, covering her mouth and nose before she started wheezing. Elain would hardly hurt a fly but sent Nesta a glare that could’ve easily killed a man.

Nesta cleared her throat, “I do believe there are more of the blue flowers down that hill near the pond. Would you mind getting some more for Laine?”

Feyre was already on her feet, mouthing her thanks as Elain turned her back to get the next bunch of flowers, “Why of course I will!” And with a very bad curtsey, Feyre threw off her shoes and was rolling down the hill, spinning wildly, her laughter sure to be heard in meadows far beyond theirs.

You would find the Archeron sisters all together, or never in the same place.

Laine was the easiest to find, by the waters or pond on the east side, in gardens surrounded with bugs and willows calling to the young girl. She could hardly read but if the text included any mention of colors and blooms, suddenly she was a scholar. Elain was not simple or dull, but rather a passive spirit, like a summer wind- brief, fleeting, but teeming with love and hope.

Feyre, as their mother said, was a reckless wild child. Far too young to care, far too small to be whipped into shape. If you were sent to find her and your life depended on it, may the Mother bless you. Feyre liked the kitchen, because of the immaculate food and maids who would shove any sweet down the littlest Archerons throat. But, also for the immeasurable amount of sharp items to be found in there. If it was pointy and could stab a wall or scare their ice-cold mother, Feyre would be running the halls with it in hand or making targets of her fathers old trade route maps.

Then there was Nesta, the firstborn. Molded to be another woman that she somehow couldn’t fit, as if her feet were too big or hair too long, Nesta was outgrowing the standards forged into her being. You would see her as a ghost, floating in and out of rooms, comfortable in silence and slumber, but never escaping people. She loved the maids and could recite all of their names like clockwork, and the workers loved her in turn. Always stuck in new worlds between pages or willingly dragged by the two youngers, Nesta teemed with liberation. She was often alone, but never lonely, and found new loves in the library or in the fields beyond marble confines.

Adela was constantly dissatisfied with her eldest's progress inside these walls, as if at eight she should’ve already been engaged to a prince. Granted, Adela knew better. Nesta would never truly find another kingdom to buy into when she already had a crown waiting for her elsewhere. She was known as fair and beautiful beyond her years, would age like fine wine, and become so much greater than Adela ever was. What Nesta saw as fit would normally come to be, an instinct Adela was unprepared she would inherit. Nothing left her more confused than this daughter only by blood, who was hated by both her parents for reasons far from the same, and how at less than ten years had an entire mansion wrapped around her fingers.

But Adela would wait, and simply leave them be for now. When viper's strike, they kill. And even though the Matron of the house wanted her little queen gone, she had other ways to see this through.

Anyways, children's blood on her hands would stain her diamonds.

---

Cassian

Cassian was violently fucking ill. Watching whatever the fuck that was did not help in the slightest. The second she was gone, so was he.

The General and High Lord were not on speaking terms, his presence was an obligation and not a request. When Rhys first displayed his plans, Cassian just about murdered him. Had his brother on the table in a chokehold that the Shadowsinger had to come and release Rhys from. The way his so-called family planned her exile was… horrific.

Cassian was full of light and humor, but not dull the way his family made him out to be. He could see this for what it was, punishing an already broken female for not meeting every damn need of a fully grown woman that was no longer her responsibility. Cass knew better than to downplay the sacrifices Feyre made, but he was also well aware that Nesta's habits were hardly a financial problem and more of a reputation scandal.

That’s what the High Lord did best, when his Court was breaking at the bonds, the mess would “disappear”. Just like the Illyrians hidden in the mountains, the displaced families of Spring, the homeless warriors of Night.

Cassian loved his brother, but more often than not he wondered when Fate would come to bite them in the asses for Rhys’ neglect.

Now, here he was, in his mothers' cabin, wings dragging behind him wiping tears long since shed over a woman who was thrown to the wolves and torn into so many scraps he wasn’t sure how he could put her together again.

He missed his Nesta, the one who threw glares and begged for her people, not this one who hardly spoke and caved into herself enough that she couldn’t see where she was heading.

Cassian fingered for his mug in the wooden cabinets and hit his mark, soon placing water to heat over a small fire over the counter.

He was not okay, not okay at all.

When you look for something in the dark for too long, you eventually find what you need but not always in the way you expect. Cassian coped the same as Nesta Archeron in his first years post-war. It was suffocating trying to be the happy one while dying inside. He watched men he looked up to fall and a lover he admired take her last breath- too much in far too little time. Cassian was not an idiot, he was simply perplexed. Why was he allowed to grieve in unacceptable manners, but Nesta was a sinner in holy clothing?

Bright walls and unlit rooms in the house were silent, only the winds of the mountains singing outside. The newly dusted snow wrapped the dirt in a delicate kiss- a forbidden touch. It was the peak of winter, just after Feyre’s birthday and another insufferable party.

One that Nesta wasn’t invited to.

Cassian wished he wasn’t invited either.

The cup in his hands was dwarfed in comparison to the bulky Illyrian holding it, but at least it was warm. At least it wasn’t empty.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it could always be worse.

Cassian knew that if things were a little different, he’d be the one sitting in a prison of darkness and Hell because of mistakes made as a child. He’d be exiled by family, cast away by the only living remains of a life once lived.

Nesta didn’t know but long before this he had called it even, their sins atoned for in hurting each other equally.

She was the only one in the world who could tell which smiles he was faking.

To anyone on the outside, one kiss was merely that. How curious it was, the iceberg went far deeper.

So when the mug crashed against the wall, and in its wake resembled his inner turmoil, Cassian took to the skies and found himself at the door of a place far too familiar.

AHHHHHHHH OMG OKAY hope you guys enjoyed this:) if you want to be added to the tag list let me know!

@lovemeforever12345 @champanheandluxxury @nahthanks@perseusannabeth@queenestarcheron@silvernesta

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just-my-fandom · 4 years ago

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Rocky Road P7 (JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader)

Part 7

Summary; Barry pulls a gun on the group of six. JJs actions cause a fight in the group and a strain on his relationship. JJ doesn’t believe he’s good enough for the reader with the past his father created on his name.

Warning(s); Guns, alcohol, couple fighting, break up, mentions of abuse. Another part added on at the end that is not shown in the show.

A/N; I am LOVING how this story is turning out and the attention it’s getting. Three chapters posted in two days!!! I’m on a roll and I’m loving it!!

Taglist; @bibliophilewednesday @sexualparkour @jjpouggues @poguestyle17

“Seriously? Cops?”

“Please tell me you didn’t bring the gun,” Kiara pleas, JJ glaring up from the backpack he held,

“Of course I didn’t bring the fucking gun, Y/N told me to leave it back at the Chateau,”

“And I’m glad I did,” You hiss, watching suddenly as a gun is pointed at John B, your eyes widening at the masked man,

“Get out of the car,” He- Barry- snarls, jabbing the gun forward before motioning to you and your friends in the back seat, “Every fucking one of you, get out of the fucking car!”

With quick, feared nods, everyone clambers out of the van, Barry’s eyes lingering long enough on you to cause JJ to protectively move in front of you, jaw clenched when Barry jabs the gun into his face,

“On the ground!” Barry demands, “On your goddamn hands and knees! Down!”

You miss the way JJs hands grasps at your wrist as you and the five others drop into the dirt and grass. Barry ducks into the van, your heart in your ears in fear as John B slowly snuck to the cop car Barry came in.

“John,” You whisper yell, panicked as John B held his finger to his lips, “John B, get the hell back over here,”

You force yourself to hold your breath as Barry departs back to his car with the gold. and with swift motions, John B has hit Barry upside the head, JJ and Pope have jumped up, and Barry now laid against the car with a busted nose.

“I know this piece of shit!” JJ shouts, when John B pulls down Barry’s mask, “He’s a base head!”

“Probably knows my brother,” Sarah heaves, JJ muttering about how Barry sold coke to his father.

“Look, I couldn’t hurt any single one of y’all!” Barry snips, narrowing his eyes at you where you stood between John B and JJ.

Quickly, JJ lunges Barry’s gun into Barry’s face so the man fell unconscious, your hand grabbing at the front of JJs shirt to pull him away as John B took the gun,

“Baby!” You soothe, JJs now dark blue eyes moving away from Barry, to you, “Calm down,”

“Did you not see the looks he’s giving you?” JJ hisses, leaning down with his finger jabbed at the man on the floor, “I’m not going to just let him!”

“But I’m okay,” You raise your hands to his face, feeling JJ exhale against your touch and his shoulders drop, “He didn’t hurt me,”

JJ pulls his head back and looks down at Barry’s license in his hand. When did he get that? “We have one more stop to go,” He mutters, moving back to the van as your brows pinch, “Let’s go see where this son of a bitch lives,”

“Welcome to Crackhead Wasteland,”

“I don’t know about this man,” Pope peers out the window to the van, to the home of Barry.

“Dude, why are we at Barry’s?” John B grumbles, JJ climbing out of the drivers seat,

“This’ll only take a second,”

“Jesus Christ,” You push up from the floor of the van, moving after your blonde boyfriend, “JJ, think about what you’re doing,”

“I’ve already thought it through, baby,” JJ turns to walk backwards so he could face you, “Yo soy justicia,”

“I didn’t understand a single bit of that,” You cross your arms, watching as he began to rummage through cabinets, glancing over your shoulder when John B steps in after,

“Yeah, so what’s your plan, slick?”

“Well,” JJ hums, “As thou hath stealth from us, we shall stealeth from ye,”

“JJ, this isn’t right, and you know it,” You call, John B moving past you to grab at JJs shirt,

“Yeah, that’s great, JJ. But what happens after you rob a drug dealer, huh? He knows who we are!”

“I’m not scared of this guy,” JJ scoffs, and you clench your jaw as he moves to the back room- Barry’s room, calling out,

“There we go!”

“JJ Maybank!” You scold, watching him dump a bag of cash onto Barry’s bed. Taking his wrist, you- with all your strength- turn JJ to face you, “I’m not going to let you make a decision you’ll regret. You already got arrested this past week! I can’t-,” You pause, inhaling, “I can’t watch you get put back in that cop car,”

“Baby, nothings going to happen to me,” JJ pats your cheek, and you raise your blurry eyes to the roof in defeat as he turns back to count the money.

“Alright, look at me,” John B demands, grabbing JJs shoulders, “If you keep going down this road, you’re gonna end up just like your dad-,”

JJ is quick to shove John B into the wall next to him, your lips parted to call out to both males, “You watch your mouth, man. Aren’t you tired of being messed with?”

“That’s not the point, JJ,”

“Cause I am,” With a final pat, JJ releases John B to step out of the house. Your eyes meet John Bs, fluttering shut before you quickly follow after the blonde.

“All right, so we’re looking at five grand each for reparations for putting us through that bullshit,”

“So that’s what we’re doing now? We’re robbing drug dealers?” Kiara asks, looking at you, “Why are you letting him do this?”

“If you think I’m just allowing this, your head is too far up your ass,” You move around John B, “JJ, if you know what’s good for you-,” You quickly pull the bag of money, JJ turning with just as tight of a grip so you were both holding it, “Fucking listen to me,”

“I’m listening,” JJ raises his eyebrows, eyes flicking between yours as your brows furrow,

“Baby, what’s gotten into you?” You breathe, JJ rolling his eyes before you tug the bag so he looked at you again, “I’m just trying to keep you out of trouble-,”

“And I’m trying to protect you!” JJ hisses, your eyes squinting, “I’m not going to let some douchebag look at you, or point a fucking gun at you,” JJ tugs the bag from your grasp, “I’m not putting it back,”

“JJ, if you don’t put that money back, we’re done,” You heave, dryly, watching JJ pause and stare at you, “I’m serious, J. I love you, but I’m not going to watch you pull yourself down when I’m trying to bring you up,”

“Fine,” JJ murmurs, shifting the bag onto his shoulder before he turns, beginning to walk down the driveway, “Guess we’re done,”

Your lips part to suck in a deep breath, eyes tearing up so JJs figure blurred, raising your hands to cover your face. “Goddamn it,”

“Look, he’ll come around, okay?” You let your puffy eyes look up at John B across the table, “He’s doing a JJ thing,”

“Think he’ll go home?”

“There’s a zero percent chance that he did,” You shift in your seat, inhaling a deep breath, “What if that was it?” At the strain in your voice, John B looks up at you and frowns, “What if we’re really broken up?”

“JJ loves you,” Pope states, “Way too much to let you go that easily. Just… hopefully he’ll be back in his right mind by tomorrow night,”

“JJ?”

You don’t know whether to be glad that he’s alive, or angry of the fact that he’s currently sitting in a hot tub with a glass of alcohol.

Both. Definitely both.

“What the hell did you do?” Pope asks, roughly, JJ sliding his sunglasses down his nose that makes you question why he even has them on at ten o’clock at night.

“I got a jet going straight in my butt right now,” JJ giggles, and you can visibly tell he’s already overly tipsy, “Y’all should get in, you hear me?”

“How much did this cost?” Pope asks, JJ humming behind his glass of alcohol,

“Well,” JJ slurs, “With the generator, the petrol, and oh, hey, express delivery, pretty much all of it, yeah,”

“All of it?” You breathe, JJ nodding and finally looking at you, “You spent all of it in one day? JJ!”

“Yeah! So what? I mean- come on, you only live once, baby!” JJ watches you flinch at the nickname, “Oh. That’s right. You broke it off with me because I was trying to get payback,”

“I was doing it for the good of us,” You exhale, JJ raising his arms from the water,

“Look where it got me!” JJ stands up, your gasp audible when your eyes land on the bruises and cuts littered across his chest and stomach, “I’m sorry I didn’t help some charity, or pay off the restitution! I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you, Y/N. I’m sorry I’m not what you wanted!”

“JJ-,” Pope and Kie watch as you force your flats off your feet, moving to the edge of the hot tub before climbing in. Your clothes stick to your skin as soon as you pull JJ against you, his arms instantly wrapping around your back to pull you tighter to his bare chest, exhaling a breathy sob that clutches your heart strings,

“Baby, you are what I want,” You rush, whispering against his ear as your fingers rake through his damp hair, “You are everything I want. You are good for me, good to me,”

You lean back, hands caressing his face so your eyes met his teary blues, “I love you so, so much. I hate seeing you in pain, I never want to be the cause of that pain. I want to take away that pain, baby,”

JJ coughs out another sob, forehead dropping against yours as your thumbs smooth across his cheekbones, drawing his lips to press against your own.

“I’m sorry,” JJ repeats, twice, dropping his head onto your shoulder as he finally began to break down, “I can’t take him anymore! I can’t- he says things about you and how I’m only going to drag you down, and I can’t help but believe him!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, tightening your arms around his neck before you feel Kie and Pope move in after you, enveloping you both in a large embrace.

“He okay?”

You look away from the trees above you. Like the night prior, you and JJ lay in the same hammock, only JJs grip is tighter- reassuring himself that you really are there.

“He’s calm,” You correct, voice breathy as Kiara moves to the hammock beside you.

She watches as JJs face in tucked against your neck, lips parted with soft breaths as he slept. Your fingers took turns carding through his hair, and stroking the side of his face.

“Did you know he was going through that?” Kie asks, quietly, “With his dad?”

Although you nod, you let your eyes flutter shut as JJs arms tighten subconsciously around your waist, “I didn’t think it was this bad,” You whisper, “He never tells me these kind of things,”

“Well maybe he will, now,” Kie smiles, weakly, where you nod enough to not wake the blonde, “You going to be okay here with him tonight?”

Another nod, and Kie nods back, standing up with a small wave and a silent goodnight. Tilting your head, you let your lips settle against JJs warm forehead, resting your head against his as your eyes begin to get heavy with sleep.

#jj maybank drabble #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank x reader #john b routeledge #pope heyward #kiara carrera #sarah cameron #Barry

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alreadyblondenow · 5 years ago

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Bad boys bring Heaven to you | Mark Lee

▸ Mark Lee x reader ▸ Smut, Smut, Smut, Fluff, Angst, demon au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 4/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers

Summary: He was your guardian angel and your dark desires changed him for the creature that he is now. He gave you a baby so he can make sure that you’re going to be together forever, but you don’t want to keep it.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: Rough sex, vanilla sex, a lot of sex will happen I’m telling you, overstimulation, pregnancy, filthy, minor/major(?) character killings, major character death, possessive behaviour, swearing, mentions of other idols, unprotected sex hence the pregnancy, mention of abortion, hospital scenes,

A/N: FILTH. But I lessen the smut scenes (just a bit hehe) Words in Italics are Mark’s thoughts.

Taglist: (if I happen to forgot you, I’m sorry! But these names are on my list. Thank you!) @huangxx @floweringtheflowers @minejungwoo @swimmingkpopblog @luvlyjaemin @capablemork8299 @jaehyunoos @neospirited @shanghai-lu @jenotation @strawberrytyong @lilminyoongles @cottonmyeonbby @neosaniuniverse @simp4mk @jaejaenim @junglewoos @sunshineleedonghyuck

I used to be your guardian angel, but being a demon is the only way that I can be with you.

Guard and protect. Those are the only things that I should be doing as I stay by your side until your dying breath. Guard your heart so you could make the right decisions in life and help you with your choices. Protect you from all kinds of harm so you can live a long happy life until your time finally comes.

You just turned ten years old when you were assigned to me, I just turned thirteen at that time. I even sang you a happy birthday together with the others during your celebration. I was beside you when you blew the candle and listened to your wish. From there on it’s always been you and me, we pretty much grew up together.

I guide you with your decisions every day, protect you inside and outside your home, and listen to your prayers. Oh, I love to listen to your voice whenever you pray. It calms me and your prayers are good proof that I’m doing a great job as your guardian angel.

But as we grow up, you started making impulsive decisions that I don’t have control with. You changed during your teenage years, you no longer pray and let me hear the sound of your prayers anymore. I’m afraid you will no longer need me and that they will assign me to a new human after a few years.

When you were seventeen, you almost lost your virginity to someone who’s not worthy. I’m sorry but I have to meddle with that so I stopped it and gave the guy a piercing headache. I feel sorry for what I’ve done, truly. But he doesn’t deserve you.

I feel bad about what I did so I seek guidance from my senior angel, Doyoung. I told him everything that I felt the moment I saw the guy enter your room and watch him kiss you and put his hands around your body. I told Doyoung that for the first time, I hated your smile because you like what the guy is doing to you.

Do you know what Doyoung told me? He said that I’m starting to be unholy and have feelings for you.

And it’s true. I’m starting to be more and more ungodly as I continue to watch you touch yourself every night with your fingers inside you, and instead of prayers, I hear moans from you every night. You started to have perverted desires which I can’t help you with because I’m an angel. I’m completely aware that I’m failing with my mission and scared to face my senior angels and keep me away from you.

If I lose you, I will be meaningless.

I sold my soul to the devil so I can be with you and follow you to a path full of desires.

It’s still the same. I’m still me but my job has no rules now and I can do whatever that pleases me to keep you in my life. Over the years of being a demon, I watch you now in a very different way. I watch you shower and get dressed, I watch you touch yourself with legs wide open as I masturbate beside you, I possessed every guy you have sex with and we always have a great time.

But I want more than this.

For many years, you’ve already mastered the art of living alone and you are your own companion. Alone in the morning, alone at night. It is a lonely and tiring life, but still, you find comfort in being just with yourself.

Eating dinner alone in a fast food restaurant near your apartment has been your daily routine since the day you’ve landed the job of being a real estate agent away from home. Selling houses left and right, having the luxury and time to flirt and enjoy one night stands, earning buckets and buckets of money, but still, you feel alone and incomplete.

As you were just about to start to dig in, your phone rang, it was your boss calling about 127 House. The haunted house that’s been unoccupied for almost three years now and has been threatened to be taken down tomorrow and it’s part of your job to save it.

“Someone is finally interested, were going to meet him at the office tomorrow. My assistant says it’s an anonymous buyer and we just have to wait for tomorrow to talk things out” he explains excitedly. The sound of his voice was a little loud on the phone.

“This is great news” you answered calmly, “I love that house thankfully were saving it. Have your assistant send me the details for tomorrow- Yeah, thank you!”

One of the many good things that you love about your job, is the happiness that comes with it when a house can be a home after being empty and cold for years. Haunted or not, just like a normal house, the 127 House deserves to be a home for a family.

After having dinner alone, you quickly reviewed some of the contracts for the anonymous client for tomorrow, reviewing your presentation one last time and finally letting out a big sigh, patting yourself on the shoulder, telling yourself ‘good job.’ It would be so great if someone can really say it in front of your face and actually getting a pat on the shoulder.

Thankful nonetheless because finally you have time for yourself and reward yourself with a nice shower. But even during your shower, you were spaced out and you kept thinking how it’s actually a miracle that the 127 House got a buyer a day before it’s going to be taken down. The house was beautiful, haunted but beautiful. It would be such a waste if it wasn’t given a second chance.

“Oh fuck” you cursed when you realized you put too much soap on your body. As you were busy rinsing all the soap from your body, down to your legs until your toes, when you felt something touch your wet hair, and you turned around to see if something fell off from your rack but there's nothing, weird. You shrugged it off and continue rinsing your soapy skin, and finally putting shampoo on your hair. You close your eyes and massage your scalp, you love how the hot water feels against your skin and how it calms your nerves. Then again, you felt something touch your skin. But this time it ran up and down your slit and you’re sure it's not the hot water.

Quickly you ended your peaceful shower, reached for your towel, and prepare yourself for bed. Maybe it was hot water after all and you were just being paranoid and tired from work. The comfort your bed provides felt even more relaxing as you entertain yourself and scroll through Twitter for a moment, reading updates and seeing different trends then an interesting small clip of porn catches your attention. You watch it like a hawk and allow yourself to be aroused and turned on. Satisfied with the porn you just watched, you removed your shorts and underwear leaving only your thin oversized shirt, and proceed to touch yourself freely.

Sucking your point and middle finger, you played with your slit with your wet fingers running it up and down until you get wet real good. Teasing yourself before you proceed on putting it inside, you shamelessly spread your legs wider lifting your shirt so you could pinch your nipples while you make yourself feel good down there.

“Yes, baby”

You heard someone talk near you but there’s no one in the room but you. You live alone. Not bothering about it anymore, you closed your eyes again and continue touching yourself. “Ohhh baby” you moan and feed your imagination that someone is making you feel good right now. You part your mouth and let out soft moans, kicking your blanket until it falls.

“Open your eyes”

“Ow” you suddenly felt something pinched your right nipple. You opened your eyes and stopped what you’re doing because the creepy things that are happening tonight are getting out of hand. You see a shadow of someone seated right beside you and you quickly grabbed anything you could cover your legs with for you feel so exposed in front of a stranger who could be a rapist.

“Are you getting shy? Baby?”

You open your lampshade with a slight panic and you see lustful eyes looking deep into yours. Whoever this person is, he looked angelic but what he’s doing right now says otherwise. “We can talk after we fuck. Can you remove your shirt?” his surprisingly sexy voice made you gave in and followed what he asked for. “Don’t be scared, alright?” he added.

With nervous hands, you nod and sat up immediately to remove your shirt and make yourself naked in front of the handsome stranger. Suddenly, he’s right beside you, naked and arms pillowing his head showing off his arms, cock hard already. Is this a dream? This has to be.

“I’m Mark. How do you want this? Do I fuck you or do you fuck me?” he asked confidently with a teasing smirk.

“I fuck you” you said, since he looks so handsome laying in bed like that, the urge to ride your imaginary man is growing and growing and it’s making you hornier. He’s like a magnet that invites you to straddle him and ride him until he's gone and you can finally rest.

“I don’t think so” he got up from his comfortable position and kissed your neck wildly holding your shoulders as he kisses you down to the mattress “Do you know what I am? Hmm?” his kisses were addicting and it’s making you weak like he’s sucking all your energy. He slaps your ass deliciously when you don’t answer him, the sting stayed on your right ass cheek for a few seconds.

“A man from my dream?” you answered weakly.

“Correct. And I’m a demon” the last word made you shiver and you tried to push him away, even tried kicking him but it’s useless. “What’s wrong? You weren’t like this when you were moaning just a few minutes ago” his deep voice scares the shit out of you but it makes you horny at the same time. This isn’t right. To your surprise, he licks a long stripe on your neck and told you, “You’re mine”

He flips you on the mattress pinning your arms down with a force. “Close your legs tightly and don’t fucking move, I’m going to play with you” you closed your legs and you feel him massage your ass cheeks telling you how they’re perfectly soft and bouncy, teasing your cunt from behind and licking it until he’s satisfied and happy on how wet you are.

The position Mark put you in, made you even more harder to breathe and you can’t move for your own liking. You feel him push his cock without caution, fucking you with closed legs as he loses his mind with how good you feel around him. You, on the other hand, is a moaning mess. Gasping and breathing much air for your life as you let the demon fuck you quick and rough. Mark put his entire weight on your back, resting his left cheek on your face, thrusting in your tight cunt as you whimper and grunt under him.

“Oh baby, does it hurt?” he felt you nod your head and flinch whenever he gave you sharp thrusts. “Shhh baby, I don’t care. It feels good around me” he said and reached for your lips for a soft kiss. The handsome demon continued giving you hard and piercing thrust until he came inside you, “Now slowly spread your legs” you followed him weakly and you wished you didn’t.

Spreading your legs for him just gave him a new angle that made you more sensitive. Unconsciously, you arched your back for him now making the demon happy and smirk as he pounds you from behind, “you look so hot from up here, I might get you pregnant” you moan out how good he feels and grip the sheets on your bed. By this time only the sheets and the mattress can understand how intense the sex is.

He cupped your boobs from behind with both hands, still fucking you good but even deeper this time. “Oh please, this is too much” you cry out and beg but he never listens, he just gives you low chuckles. Low devilish chuckles.

When he finally stopped the good torture, you thought that was it, but you’re wrong. He stopped for a second and made you kneel against his chest and put his middle and point finger in your mouth and coat it with your spit, “tell me Y/n, do you want a baby? boy or a girl?” he removed his fingers and put it on your clit, drawing circles slowly as he enjoys listening to your whimpers while waiting for your answer.

“A boy” you gasp sharply as you try your best to answer. His fingers are making you weak that you’re legs are already giving up, you just want to lay flat on the mattress. He put the same fingers again in your mouth, letting you taste your pussy juices.

“Great choice. Want me to cum inside you, huh” you nod at him not because you want it, but you just want to satisfy the demon and feel him pound against you deliciously again. He can’t actually plant a baby inside you, right? This is a dream.

He pushed you on the bed and flipped you again, “Please be gentle, I beg you you’re so big” you reached for Mark’s face hoping that he has even a small ounce of mercy for you. Being underneath him like this made you realized that he is even more handsome up close, you bravely touched the soft skin of his face wondering how can someone or something looked so angelic on the outside but demonic on the inside.

As you admire the beauty of the demon on top of you, he made himself comfortable in between your legs kissing your body, and sucking your nipples just how you wanted. “Okay, since you asked so so so nicely baby” he kissed you and proceeds to line his cock in your entrance, pushing in slowly and gently as you requested for the first time tonight. Giving you a few slow and gently thrusts, you moaned and smiled whiled he let you enjoy your request. You may not know, but the demon is admiring your smile, so he kissed those soft lips of yours once again. “Now, can I rough you up a little?” he sure has no patience. You have no other choice when he puts your arms around him, “I’ll let you touch me”

Thrusting hard again in no time, making your boobs bounce underneath him. Again, you whimper and asked for more this time. “Can I kiss you?” you asked with ragged breaths, he answered your question with a kiss, as if he’s letting you know that you can kiss him whenever you want to, in exchange for fucking you hard.

“You’re mine from now on” he repeats over and over again, hearing him grunt and moans like he was in pain but he was having a mind blowing orgasm. Shooting his cum inside you, looking at how fucked you are right now.

“Will I see you again? Tell me I’ll see you again” you whine under heavy breathing.

Mark kissed your parted lips sweetly, “you will, you will” he answers you. It’s like he has a switch or an off button for his rough attitude because he’s suddenly sweet. “It’s over now baby, you did great. Hmm.” he kept on kissing your lips until you have the energy to kiss him back. “That was great right? We will be great parents”

I left Heaven for you and gladly I will leave Hell too.

I am a selfish demon.

My intention for you is to love you deeply every day for as long as I exist. You may not hear me tell you ‘i love you’ but my actions are good and enough proof that my love for you is real and I want to show more.

I no longer want to possess another human just so I can talk to you or have sex with you. I no longer want to meet you secretly in your dreams and remain as your imaginary man. I want to wake up beside you and see your smile first thing in the morning, to be able to exist and be part of your life completely, walk on the streets hand in hand and live a full life with you.

It’s too much to ask, I know. But it’s not a bad thing.

As I watch you grow as an adult, you became more and more lonely, incomplete, and unsatisfied with the things you have in your life. I can make you happy I’m sure of it.

And giving you a baby is something that can make you need me or can make you want me to stay and be part of your life. I’m sorry.

But I’m a selfish demon and all I wanted is to be with you.

The sound of your phone ringing woke you up from a disturbingly nice dream. Another call from your boss about 127 House, today is the day that the house will finally be saved. As you stretch your body in bed, it’s weird how you feel so sore and tired when you perfectly remember sleeping early last night and had the weirdest dream in your life. The sex from the dream played like a movie picture in your head, the handsome face of the demon is engraved in your mind, “Mark” you whispered as you remember his name and how he kissed you oh so sweetly while he was telling you that you’re going to be great parents.

Knowing that it’s just a dream, you shrugged it off and started your day with a nice coffee and light breakfast, reviewing your presentation on the side for later, making sure that everything you say about the house will not make the buyer turn their back.

Another day at the office is another annoying day with your boss, which is also your ex boyfriend. Yuta is a good proof that you don’t know how to be with someone else other than yourself because you’re used to being alone that you don’t let other people inside your life. And yet, you feel lonely and you still want to try. Yuta is a great guy, but the problem is not him, it’s you.

“Well you look beautiful… and glowing” he greets you with his perfect smile before you two enter the empty and cold conference room. He recognizes that glow, and it hurts his pride that you’re fucking somebody else and not him. Even though it’s clear to him that you’re not together anymore, he still thinks he owns you.

You smiled back at him and proceed to prepare your things before the client comes in. It’s obvious that something is bothering Yuta, you wanted to ask him but you’re afraid to give him the wrong idea about you being concerned. So you focused your mind elsewhere and did not mind him further.

“Ah! Mr. Lee, welcome. Please take a seat. May I introduce you to one of my finest realtor, Ms. Y/n. Leave everything to her”

The client is facing Yuta and all you can see is his handsome figure from behind, nice ass, you thought. You put up a smile and ready yourself to shake hands with the client that will save the 127 House. “Hi Mr. Lee-“

It was truly an unexpected moment. You will never forget that angelic face that you admired so much in your dream. You try to hide your uneasiness and remained professional as you shake hands with Mr. Lee and proceed with your presentation.

During your presentation, you can’t stop thinking of the man with the same face and angelic features as Mr. Lee, fucking you senseless in your dream. It was just a dream but as you dive in more to the memory, you can almost feel the wet kisses that he left on your neck, the way he hurt you so good stretching your cunt, and his amazing duality after the sex. “…and that is all for 127 House, which will all be yours after we schedule you for a private tour so can see for yourself-“

“Tell me Ms. Y/n, do you like this house?”

“It’s one of our best, of course, sir-“

“No. I mean. Do you see yourself smiling and completely happy if you happen to own the 127 House?”

It’s a question that you can’t answer on the spot but come to think of it, yes, having a family with a big house to call it home isn’t such a bad choice in life. But for now, having a family is not on your cards clearly because you’re single at the moment and you’re not ready to have a family of your own. To answer your client’s question, “Yes, sir. I think the 127 House will change my life upside down, in and out if I happen to own it. My future children will have such beautiful home” you smiled awkwardly at him, hoping that your answer finally satisfies him.

“You’re going to be a great parent,” he says with a teasing tone that you don’t know what it’s for. You were sure that he’s smirking at you while Yuta explains the contract to Mr. Lee’s assistant and you were sure, that he has something to do with your dream. This can’t be.

As Yuta finishes the meeting with a light note and had his secretary help Mr. Lee with the contract and money talk, you can’t help but think about your future. A husband, your own house, having kids, all those things were floating in your mind. “If you wanted the house you could’ve just told me” Yuta’s voice brought you back to reality. The conference room was again empty and it’s you and Yuta were all that’s left.

“What are you talking about” you fixed your things and try to avoid Yuta’s presence.

“We could’ve been married and have kids you know,” he came close to you like he’s just about to kiss you.

“And I broke up with you for a reason, that I don’t love you anymore. Stop hurting yourself Yu, were fine now don’t ruin this” hearing that made Yuta remember the night you broke up with him. Still hurt like hell he thought.

You left him in the conference room and went back to work, went on with your usual day at the office. Busying yourself further and finishing loads of tasks before you head home. But despite your busy day, you kept on thinking about Mr. Lee over and over again, and that demon in your dream who had sex with you and told you about being great parents. Something is connecting the demon and Mr. Lee but you can’t point out what exactly.

As much as you want to deny the clues and just move forward with your life, your gut tells you that they’re the same person and there’s only one way to find out, ask the demon. But he never showed up again which leads you to your second option, contact Mr. Lee or his assistant. And as expected, they’re out of reach. It’s absurd, time wasting, and scary, but you would rather be scared of the truth than not knowing anything at all.

Night after night, you hopelessly wait for the handsome demon to visit you again. Secretly hoping that he will show up in your dream, even just for a minute no more no less, even if it’s just for sex, you just need to talk to him.

Work piles up and you continue to busy yourself selling houses, closing deals every week, watching couples be happy because they finally have a home, hoping that someday that could be you so you won’t get lonely in life. But with whom?

“You look awful, are you okay?” that’s what Yuta said instead of greeting you good morning and flirt with you like he normally does.

“Yeah. I feel like shit, but I’m fine. Maybe overworked, but I’m fine” it’s true, you don’t usually get sick because of overworking but this is different. You feel weak and tired even if you got enough sleep. Heck, even if you’re not working you’re still tired and dizzy. “So I was thinking some of the major points for the campaign-“

You didn’t finish your sentence and left Yuta in your office and ran to the nearest restroom to throw up. It was not hungover, that part you’re sure, you don’t get sick like whenever you’re tired from work. It doesn't make any sense. Then you realized, “fuck, I’m late” and there's only one person or creature to blame. Mark, the demon.

Hot tears fall from your eyes as you flush the toilet, wipe your mouth, and gather your strength to come out of the cubicle. To your surprise, Yuta was just outside the lady's restroom, waiting for you and making sure that you’re okay. He has his own thoughts and if he’s being completely honest, he’s disgusted. How can you be so stupid? Getting yourself knocked up before you even get married?

“Who’s the father?” he leaned on the door frame, arms crossed and already judging you.

“Please Yuta not now” the last thing you need right now is your ex being unreasonable.

“Are you going to keep it? I’m willing to pay for the abortion, I know you’re not yet ready” that’s it. That made you snap. Yuta is a nice person, but sometimes he doesn’t know what he’s talking about and he constantly forgets his role in your life.

“How dare you. I’m speechless Yuta. You don’t want this baby not because of the reason that I’m not ready but for your selfish reasons, which I’m not interested. You’re my boss, can I leave early?”

Of course, Yuta didn’t take it well. His pride was hurt, the baby is like an ending note for the both of you. The meaningless conversation with Yuta lasted for almost half an hour, it’s like a never ending loophole whenever you talk to him about personal issues and you hate it. With or without Yuta’s permission, you went home and take care of yourself. The pregnancy test made it official and once again, you feel lost and lonely more than ever. How can the demon do this to you? Is this some kind of joke? Or maybe you’re just a one time thing for him.

Hoping that everything will be fine once you’re all well rested, you decided to sleep it off and try to fix and handle things when you wake up. The moment you closed your eyes, you feel wet kisses all over your exposed shoulders. You even felt the bed dip as if someone joined you to bed and shared their warmth.

“Baby I’m here” Mark whispers, trying to wake you up. It may not feel like it, but you were sleeping for two hours already. “You’re not just a one time thing for me" he added.

His hot breath woke you up, and finally seeing the handsome demon again unexpectedly made you feel better and welcomed him with a warm hug. Even Mark was shocked but he accepts your hug and returned to you even more warmly. His skin is hot, or maybe that’s just his warmth. He smelled like cinnamon, hot afternoons, did he just came from hell and went straight to your apartment?

“I didn’t show up for days because I wanted to make sure you wanted to see me” he disturbed your thoughts. Putting your hair away from your face and leaving light feathery kisses on your lips.

“Mark, I’m pregnant” you finally blurted out. Curious about what he’s going to react.

“And?” he was avoiding eye contact not because he’s shy, but because he can’t believe he can admire you closely like this and you finally know he exists. “Can we fuck first then talk later?”

You still have a lot of questions for him but he never gave you answers and it frustrates you. It’s been weeks since the last time you saw each other and he’s thinking about fucking right now. Unbelievable. “Not having sex with you until you tell me answers,” you said as gentle as possible, not wanting the demon to leave you empty handed again.

He just chuckled. Well, at least he’s not leaving yet because he’s starting to spread kisses all over your exposed skin. Feeling those incredible lips again makes you even more relaxed, his hands all around your sides roaming softly. You can’t believe you’re finally letting him in without boundaries.

“Show me your tits,” he said, lifting your thin shirt so easily.

“If I showed you my tits will you stop and finally have a decent conversation with me?”

“If you showed me your tits, baby I wont' stop. I’m here to remind you that you’re mine” he said heavily breathing from the hungry kiss biting your ears, your neck, and your lips. You pushed him away for a moment but it was a gentle push. You didn’t want to piss him off.

His hands are ready to push your bra down, he’s just waiting for you to let go and stop being a bitch. You figured you got nothing to lose so you grabbed his face and kissed him like how you missed him. Putting his hands on your boobs, guiding his hands to push down your bra and show him your tits. “That’s my girl,” he said in between kisses, feeling his warm smile before he pulls away and finally looks at your tits. “Mine,” he said, before licking a long stripe from your left nipple up to your chest, neck, and ends on your lips. Kissing you passionately before he does it again with your right boob. “Lift your chest” you followed what he said and you felt him unclasp your bra swiftly, It was a sign to remove your shirt and help him undress you.

Both naked in bed kissing like a loving couple, Mark decided to go a little easy on you tonight. After all, roughing you up is not part of his plan and purpose of his visit. He goes on top of you, lips still not leaving yours. “Did you miss me?” he asks, you can only answer using your hungry kisses. You feel his hand travel up and down your body oh so softly you’re starting to get ticklish that your lips parts because of his soft touches, he puts your panties in your mouth and your eyes widened in shock.

“I’m going to go easy on you tonight, don’t worry” he says. Mark looks handsomely scary and filthy right now in between your open legs licking your boobs and brushing his hand on your nipples making you sensitive. He reaches for your hand to suck your fingers good while looking directly in your eyes. You rolled your head back on your fluffy pillows, moaning and whimpering, letting your ruined panties in your mouth muffle the sounds that you’re making. If this was his idea of going easy then you’re fucked.

Mark let’s go of your left hand so he can touch your pussy while kissing your lower abdomen. Your hips roll uncontrollably and Mark likes the sounds that you’re making. He kneels in front of you and grabbed your free hand to pump his cock, play with its tip before he goes in. He lines his cock to your entrance and pushed in one hard thrust. Since your mouth is occupied, you can only hear Mark’s grunts while fucking you hard in the first few thrusts. It was too much, you were in tears. Sobbing and whimpering from the hurt. He noticed it. He removed your panties from your mouth crashing his lips to yours the moment he threw your wet panties away. “That was hot right?” He continues to kiss you wildly while giving you merciless thrusts. You try to breathe and catch your breath but he won't let you, “Mark, please” you call him out weakly.

“No, baby. You’re doing perfect don’t disappoint me” he kissed and kissed you until both of your lips are swollen. Thrust and thrust in your pussy until your boobs bounce nonstop and you’re on edge. The moment you reached your orgasm, Mark kissed you softly but he never stopped fucking you. You smiled at him, reaching for his face for another sweet kiss, helping him catch his sweet release.

He gave you three piercing thrusts that hurt so bad but felt so good before he pulls out and came on your pussy lips. Spreading white thick fluids all over your folds, and going in for the last time for his own satisfaction and pullout again quickly. It was a quick stretch that hurt but it was bearable.

He lay down beside you, spooning you and kissing your shoulders. Running a finger on your nipples as you both calm down and enjoy your fluffy bed and soft pillows. “As always you did good” he cuddles with you in bed, something you didn’t see coming. Even though he’s all scary and rude he’s capable of being sweet and you love it.

“How about that talk you owe me?” you kissed his neck as a way of returning the favor for making you feel good.

“Let’s go on a date. I want to do this right, it’s never my intention to scare you”

“You’re naturally scary, you don’t know that?” he smiles and made his one arm as his pillow so he can look at you properly.

“I’ll stop the baby from growing. For now. One date Y/n, and if you still hate me it’s over between us. The baby… the baby is my only way so I can stay with you forever”

Weird. The idea of Mark leaving you doesn’t sound so good. And to be honest you want to spend more time with him. He nuzzles your armpit making you laugh and giggle and at the same time. He’s cute when he's in the good mood.

“You could have asked me to go on a date first before you knocked me up,” you kissed his cheek and watch him roll his eye at you. Handsome. So handsome you thought.

“No. Having a baby will be our priority. Please, let's be happy. I can change your life”

Unfortunately, as you listen to the handsome demon confess his feelings for you, you suddenly thought about Yuta. Your ex wanted the exact same thing and things didn’t go well between you two. There’s something different about Mark that makes you want to try and work this family thing out with him. Even if he’s a demon if he can love you unconditionally, well having a family with him isn’t so bad.

But still, you need time. And getting you pregnant first before building an established relationship is too much.

I knew you will not take it easily, and it's fine by me I have all the patience in the world.

I'm selfish but I can’t force you to love me and your love, that’s what I want. That’s why I have to win you. Even if going on dates isn’t my best way to make you fall in love with me, it’s the right thing to do.

Yes, I can force you to stay in my house with that baby, but being together without love…well, what’s the point of it?

Now, I’m sorry for getting you pregnant first. I’m desperate. I long for you. You’re like a dream that I’m willing to do everything just so you can come true.

The most awaited dinner was full of flirting, low giggles, and honest talk. You insist on knowing him more and you’re more than happy to introduce yourself but he seems like he knew you all too well. “There’s nothing much to know about me” he takes a bite from his steak, “But let me be honest and I hope I won't scare you… I used to be your guardian angel…”

You listen to the whole story of the truth on how he used to be your guardian angel and became a demon because you embraced such pleasures in life. He told you how he fell in love with you even more when he became dark, he said that it felt good that there's nothing holding him back. “Believe it or not, I was your first. I couldn’t stomach watching you have sex with anyone else other than me” he explained further how he possessed every guy you had sex with and you find it amusing how he’s completely possessive when it comes to you.

“So Yuta?”

“Oh no no, not him. He has his own demon I can’t possess him. And that was my breaking point. When you two were together, I was broken, I feel abandoned and I secretly hope that you two break up, then it happened and I have nothing to do with it I promise. So now I’m here, taking my chance”

You question him further about your life, asking him about the things you only knew about yourself, things that only your family can answer, and not even your closest friends. Not because you doubt his honesty, but only because it's amusing to listen to him. All this time you weren’t alone. All these years of believing that you’re alone, little did you know you have Mark. The things that he’s telling you does not make you feel weird, it’s like you’re talking to a long lost friend who knew everything about you.

It’s amazing how he’s a demon but his honesty amazes you as he’s not capable of lying. Maybe he has something left from being an angel? Nonetheless, you see nothing wrong with giving him a chance to give you happiness. “Still you could have been honest first and take me on a date before you- you know”

“No, I need you to need me. That’s the only way. I’m here on a date with you because I can’t win you by playing tough, maybe I can win you by playing nice. So please stop hating me about the baby. I really want it with you” he reached for your hand on the table and caressed it with his thumb.

“I don’t hate you, Mark in fact I like you, I really do but the baby is too much. We can still try and be in a relationship without having a baby”

“Just give us a chance” he winked at you and continue eating his steak.

As you two continue the wonderful dinner and setting aside the baby talk for the rest of the night, he filled your heart with wonderful promises that you’re looking forward to seeing him do. And while he was talking, you noticed how your heart skip a beat when he raises his eyebrows and smirk. Handsome demon, that’s what he is.

During the car ride which you don’t know where he’s taking you, he never let go of your hand, kissing the back of it whenever he can and making you giggle with his spontaneous sweetness. “Where are you taking me? I thought you’re going to drive me home”

“I am. Were going home” You turned silent when you saw the beautiful white house from afar. He brought you to 127 House. “I bought this house because you were desperate to sell it. Also, that’s why I asked you if you see yourself being happy owning the house” he added and kissed your hand again.

The house is even more beautiful at night, Mark let you admire the house as he follows you and watch you with full admiration. You love what he did to the house, rather than a mansion with a plain interior he made it look like it’s ready to be a home for a family. What you see is not a demon who manipulated you, Mark is a desperate man who’s willing to try to make you happy and who’s desperate to have a family of his own with the woman that he loves. You.

“Welcome home?” he says.

“It’s too early for that Mark, I like you but how can you be so sure about this?” his confidence amuse you.

He scoffed and raised his eyebrows on you, caging you with a warm embrace from behind as you two watch the calm water on the pool outside. “You sound like I haven’t fucked you already. I’m confident about this. Welcome home” he repeats and planted a kiss on your temple. A simple gesture that makes you happy.

As you two enjoy the comfortable silence while swaying side to side for some time, you feel his hot breath tickling the back of your neck, giving you a shiver that goes straight to your spine. You’re familiar with Mark’s presence already. A presence you always crave, something you always want near you. “What do you want to do next, beautiful?” he asks, kissing your neck and making your knees weak.

“Can we have normal sex? Without you fucking me in my dreams? Can you do that for me?”

“Of course. From now on, no more having sex in your dreams and no more possessing other humans. It’s just me now” he reaches for your lips, turning your body so you could kiss properly. You feel safe in his arms, which made you realize that he has done so much for you.

“Maybe it’s time for me to give back, Mark” he smiled, motioning you on his huge couch.

“What do you have in mind?” he removes your shoes and made you sit on his lap.

“I can start by,” you kiss him slowly on his neck, cup his face but he’s quick to kiss your hand softly, “I can start by being on top tonight, let me make you cum for as many as you want?” he chuckled low and nod his head. He sat there looking devilishly handsome, letting you do what you want as he watches you with lustful eyes.

I never thought that the date will work out and quite frankly, I’m thankful for our date. It’s the first night that I felt that I could actually be part of your life. For the first time, I feel like I’m a man and not just a fallen angel or a demon.

The way you kissed on my neck, when you smile whenever our eyes meet, how you touched me and kissed my body, the feeling of your fingertips dancing around my skin. It’s addictive. It almost felt like our first time having sex. The night I took your virginity, I couldn’t have enough of you that I keep on asking for another round if you remember.

And oh! When you held my hand while you roll your hips slowly, It was life changing Y/n.

Thank you for giving me a chance to prove my love further to you.

After having a few rounds on the couch and his huge bed, Mark is now watching you sleep beside him. Caressing your face softly as he turns this moment into a special one because his dream of sleeping beside you with his whole being finally came true. “I’m so in love with you,” he says before drifting to sleep.

Welcoming the demon in your life was the best decision you ever made even though the baby part is still blurry. Nonetheless, Mark made you feel loved every day in many different ways. May it be through his sweet words, making love to you instead of fucking hard, holding your hand while you two watch a scary movie, or whenever he sings to you after learning a new song. For a demon who came out of hell, he’s a little sweet and romantic.

He also adapted well to this world, even found out that his eyesight is poor and that you have to get him a pair of glasses. And as he stays in this world loving you, his love for watermelons and playing with his guitar grew stronger each day too.

Seasons change and years pass by like a snap of your finger, you and Mark stayed happily together in 127 House and make it a home, even if it’s just the two of you. He made you so happy in life that you forgot life before he came.

“Where did you find that handsome guy?” your best friend asks you while she’s slicing her son’s birthday cake. You help her with the plates while you answer every question she throws.

“Dating app” you lied and laughed at her to shut her up.

“I know that’s a lie but I don’t care. That man makes you happier than ever. What is he an angel or something?” If only she knew.

You watch Mark play with other kids, tickling their tummies as he giggles with them. Being a father suits him well and you bet he still dreams of becoming one. You almost feel sorry about it because you can’t give the only thing he asks for.

When you got home and now that Mark is balls deep inside you while you ride him deliciously, your head is not there. You kept on thinking about something and of course, Mark is quick to stop doing what he’s doing. “Hey your mind is so noisy and clouded” he’s no complaining, he’s worried about you because he can hear you but can't understand you. “Talk to me baby, what’s wrong?”

You lean forward to him and rest your forehead on his chest, readying yourself to finally tell him that, “I want to have a baby”

For a moment it was dead silent while you two look each other eye to eye but soon he sat up and hug you, making you moan because he’s still deep inside you. He showered you with kisses, crying tears of joy because now his life is finally complete.

“I love you. And I’m sorry for keeping you away from being a great dad-“

“You did nothing wrong. Stop apologizing” he cups your face and kissed you deeply, pulling you back on the mattress to continue what you two were doing but this time it’s for a purpose.

During your pregnancy, you’ve never seen Mark so happy.

He was by your side like the guardian angel that he used to be. Taking care of you all the way from sun up to sun down. You’ve never thought that your pregnancy will be bearable, full of happiness and laughter because of a demon who fell in love with you.

Everything was going too fast, the next thing you know is you’re already seven months pregnant and Mark is staring at your tummy for almost five minutes as he waits for his baby to kick and your tummy move and be amazed over and over again. You’re starting to doubt if he’s really a demon. “Oh! See that! He kicked!” you laughed at him as he holds your tummy with both hands and spread kisses on it.

Things were going smoothly until the day has finally come and you’re at the delivery room fighting for your life. Quite literally. The doctors are having a huge problem pulling your baby out of your belly and they needed Mark to get out of the room because the situation became serious. He was about to lose you and the doctors want him out, of course, Mark wants to cause a scene. But he knew better. The last memory you had before closing your eyes was the door closing on Mark as he can’t do anything about it. Through a glass window, Mark sees everything that the doctors are doing to you. He wanted so bad to hold your hand so you know that you still have to fight for your life and the baby’s life.

When the baby is finally out, he was so happy to see his baby for the first that he’s sobbing and whimpering. Murmuring even that you need to wake up because finally, the baby is here. The smile painted on Mark’s face was priceless. But not for long. He knew that there’s something wrong when the doctors were staring at the baby, waiting for it to cry. Mark’s world turned black when he watches the doctor shook his head in front of him.

It was life changing.

The once happy home for you and Mark became a place so cold and gloomy as if happiness never touched the 127 House. As you’re struggling with depression, Mark embraced his anger and caused chaos everywhere. Not giving a fuck what happens to anyone because nothing can compare to the sadness that he’s feeling. It all happened for a year, which changed your relationship into small talks and cold nights. Like you two have broken up but you still live under the same roof.

But the demon loves you so much that he tried everything to pick himself up and take care of you. Your relationship was too precious for him and realized that it’s the only thing he has left. Slowly, you forgive yourself and tried to live again. Patience keeps on growing as you and Mark chose to love each other deeper and move on with what’s left with your life.

After having several check-ups, taking every advice that the doctor says, and finding out that it’s safe for you to have a baby again, you and Mark gave it another chance without hesitating. Now, you’re six months pregnant and life is slowly becoming happy again.

“Long time no see” It’s his demon best friend, Haechan. He appeared out of nowhere while Mark is having some fresh air on the balcony. Mark waits for his friend to talk, raising an eyebrow at him. “Just here to let you know that your Y/n has a new guardian angel since you’ve been so busy being a human”

“Fuck- No wonder our life is so messed up right now”

“Don’t let it kill your baby again” and just like that Haechan is gone before Mark could even ask him more about this guardian angel.

When you become a parent, your child will automatically be your prize possession. But for Mark, he has two people dear in his life. Two people. That’s all he has. And he’s not going let that angel kill his baby again and make you suffer.

Mark stick to you like glue, and you noticed that he has been even more protective than ever. “I’m going to be fine, Mark. What are you so afraid of?” you kiss him before you head to the bathroom to take a pee. This part of Mark that’s so paranoid is freaking you out and scaring you sometimes. Like he’s not telling you something or he’s hiding something from you.

Mark continues to protect you from that angel, and day by day he’s becoming even more afraid of what might happen to you. If that angel is capable of killing something precious, then who knows what else can it do to harm you further.

“Do you miss being an angel?” you asked Mark while you two lay in bed closely.

“No” he answers without hesitating.

“Do you have wings back then?”

He chuckled low and intertwines his fingers with yours, “We’ve been together for many years and you’re asking me this just now? But yes. I did. And it hurt like hell when they took it off. But I was happy afterward, it simply means I can finally be with you” his happiness is evident because his smile is so bright.

“I’m sorry” you don’t know why you apologized, but maybe you just want to.

“For making me the happiest demon? Oh come on, ‘I love you, Mark’ is so much better” he was acting cute and his charms still work on you.

“I love you, Mark”

“Thanks. I know” you smack his shoulder playfully, making him laugh and tell you, “I love you too, Y/n. You know that”

There's nothing wrong with being positive in life again after going through so much pain or after losing your first baby. There’s nothing wrong with that. As you and Mark wait for your due date, days have been beautiful while you wait for the baby. You are healthy, the baby is healthy, even Mark is healthy. You really think that this is going to be different than the first. Different in a beautiful way.

When the day finally comes, you were smiling and quite excited as Mark stays by your side the whole time. He was holding your hand, helping you to breathe, and fight to achieve that happiness with you. “Breathe with me, everything will be fine,” he says, smiling so handsomely in front of your eyes. You wanted to tell him that you love so much, thank him for changing your life but saying things like that while you're pushing to bring out the baby is kind of out of the scene. So you gave him a weak smile instead.

When the doctor had finally held the baby you and Mark were so happy because you were so close to being a family now.

But you’re slowly getting weak and he watches your smile fade and your eyes close.

“Doctor we are losing here!” the nurse exclaimed. Everything is happening again, Mark thought. As he watches the doctors and the nurses do everything they can to save you, Mark stood there quietly knowing all too well how dying works.

“Y/n, you can’t die. It’s not your time yet” he said a little too loud while standing like a statue. He used to be your guardian angel, of course, he knew things like this. “Y/n, you will be fine” he exclaimed again but this time there were tears in his eyes and his voice broke.

Time suddenly stopped and the scene was oddly familiar to him, there’s an angel inside this room to bring your soul to Heaven. “No, no”. he murmurs with tears in his eyes, looking around the room waiting for the angel to appear. “I know you’re here” he turned around multiple times until your new guardian angel appears. Doyoung.

“How many babies should I bring to heaven to make you stop? Look what you made me do” Doyoung said, “It’s not her time yet but this is the only way to keep her away from you. It’s an angel baby, Mark! You know that angels are not allowed to be born other than the insides of Heaven. It’s dangerous to expose divinity in the eyes of humans. What were you thinking?”

“I did not know- please bring her back. I’ll do anything you want” Mark begs his old friend, crying and whimpering like a little boy. If only he knew from the start he wouldn’t have got you pregnant in the first place and watch you suffer two times. Now he’s mad at himself.

“It’s too late old friend, I’m just doing my job”

And even before Mark could beg more, time turned back to normal and the doctor had announced the time of your death.

What better way to be punished after betraying Heaven and Hell by taking the love of his life. Of course, the heavenly creatures will bring you to Heaven because they knew all too well that Mark can’t enter the silver city again.

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