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bumblebeesfromvenus · 27 days ago

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We fell in love in October 🍁

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Just a warning, I will be annoying all of you with Fall fics until the end of November.

The order is here -> 🎂

It's a Saturday, and you're bored out of your mind. Luckily, you have a boyfriend with a car who will take you anywhere in the world, but especially in the back of his truck.

《Content》: NSFW. Car sex, finger sucking, PiV, creampie. Don't worry, there's plenty of fluff and silliness!!

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An exasperated huff left you, your head hanging off the couch as you realized that watching the mundane program on the TV upside down did not, in fact, cure your torturing boredom.

It was one of those days; one of those days when nothing seemed interesting and no matter what you tried, you were left staring at the clock on the wall, watching as the seconds went by excruciatingly slow.

Although saying you had nothing to do wouldn't quite be the truth. There was plenty you had to do.

The laundry needed to be folded, the dishwasher unloaded and that one creaking door hinge that had been driving you crazy for who knows how long could do with a bit of oil.

You would just let all of those responsibilities be a problem for tomorrow-you.

Your neck started to ache and you became dizzy, so you decided to leave your odd position on the couch and see if you could find a craft to occup yourself with.

Pulling out the basket of supplies, you rummaged through it, pulling out unfinished projects, some abondend and others waiting to be started.

But none of them spoke to you. There really was no point in trying to force creativity or your art. It came when it pleased and it went just as quickly.

With an annoyed whine, you haphazardly stuffed all the yarn and felt and paper back into the basket, shoving it back in its place beneath the coffee table.

You had run out of ideas at this point. It was 9 pm on a Saturday, the air crisp and dark in the depths of fall. No cozy seasonal movies piqued your interest, despite the lovely decoration you had put out with so much care.

You sat on the floor of your living room with a pout, your back pressed against the couch as you stewed in your boredom.

You'd wilt and wither away soon, you could feel it. The monotone ticking of the clock was starting to make your blood boil. The sound felt like nails on a chalkboard, unpleasantly scratching at your brain.

If you didn't find something to do soon, you'd chuck your cinnamon scented candle at the damn thing.

But then, just a moment later, with the creak of wooden floorboards in the next room over, all your problems were solved.

You remembered your boyfriend that had been locked away in his office for hours now, drowning in paperwork.

You shuffled over to where his workspace was, gently rasping your knuckles against the door before peaking your head in.

Leon was hunched over his desk, a lamp illuminated the room and the sounds of a pen on paper could be heard.

You almost scoffed at the sight of his work glasses folded onto the table.

You have scolded him many times for not wearing them; it wasn't like he needed glasses to see, quite the opposite actually, his sight and aim were impeccable.

But they served to take the strain off his eyes when he was working at this hour with such a horrendously bright light.

You decided against arguing this time, although it wasn't an easy decision.

"Leon?" You asked softly, quietly closing the door behind you.

He swiftly held up a finger to you with furrowed brows.

"Just... give me second to finish this sentence..." he mumbled, and you waited silently.

There was little more infuriating than being in the middle of writing a phrase and being interrupted.

Your gaze shifted around the room, taking in the simplicity of it all.

There was no color at all, really, and no decor. Not a picture or a silly paperweight.

It served it's purpose, you supposed; Leon was very adamant about keeping work and home separate. Though, it wasn't always like that. Before you started dating him, the line between his work as an agent and his home life was almost invisible, practically nonexistent.

Oftentimes, his work was his home.

The familiarity of being out in the field gave him a sense of morbid comfort. But since you came into his life, it changed. You wanted him to have peace and quiet and safety that didn't come in the form of a rotten shack in the middle of nowhere.

It wasn't easy to get him away from all that he knew, but you couldn't be more proud of him for giving himself boundaries.

The dropping of a pen on the wooden desk brought you out of your thoughts and your gaze to Leon.

"Now," he sighed, turning to face you in his chair, "what can I do for you, my sweet angel?"

His voice was soft with just a tint of a mischievous smirk ringing through his words.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous display of affection, but the smile on your cheeks betrayed you.

"I'm bored." You stated blandly, your arms hanging by your sides.

"Bored?" He raised a brow at you.

"What about all those crafts you wanted to finish?"

"No.. not feeling it." you sighed.

Leon thought for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Okay, well, you've been wanting to watch-"

"No..."

"You really did want to try out that-"

"No...."

He hummed in thought before opening his mouth to speak again.

"We have to get that laundry folded, we could-"

"No!" You cried out dramatically, sinking to the floor and splaying out on the small carpet.

"I will bore to death. I will rot and decay into a pile of dust from the lack of activity- My brain will shrivel up is what's gonna happen, actually."

Your complains were muffled as your cheek was pressed against the rough texture of the rug.

Leon stretched and sighed.

"You're not exactly making it easy, babe." He chuckled dryly, watching as you grumbled something into the carpet.

You sighed loudly and Leon pinched the bridge of his nose at your dramatics, but couldn't hold back his smile at just how fucking adorable you were.

He pushed himself out of his chair and laid down beside you on his back, hands folded over his stomach.

"We don't need to stay inside, you know. We can go anywhere we want. Just say the word, sweetheart." He said softly, glancing at you.

You pulled your face away from the floor and looked at him, your cheek squished up against the rug.

His expression softened at the subtle shimmer in your eyes.

"I guess you're right... but where would we even go?" You replied. Leon turned on his side, his head rested in his hand, supported by a propped up elbow.

"I'll take you wherever you want to go, angel. Lucky for you, you have a boyfriend with a polished truck and a shiny new license. Not to mention how incredibly handsome he is-"

You slapped his arm and giggled, a grin spreading on his face at your reaction.

"He's indeed quite handsome. Don't tell him but I'm only with him for his car." You leaned in to whisper the secret in his direction.

You couldn't help but laugh when you saw his face.

"I'm kidding, babe." You chuckled, scooching closer and pressing a peck to the tip of his nose, watching in delight as his face scrunched up.

"You better be." He grumbled, pulling you into his chest.

You gazed up at him with bright eyes and everything in him melted.

"Of course." There was a beat before you spoke again.

"It is a nice car, though-" you said with a grin.

Leon scoffed and shoved his hands under your shirt, tickling your bare sides.

"You're a little brat, you know that?" He smirked. You writhed under his hands, laughing and wheezing, trying to get away from him.

"S-Stop- you love me!" You heaved between laughs.

"That I do." He chuckled, stoping the ticklish torture and pulling you back against him with your back pressed to his chest.

"You've got me wrapped around your finger, pretty girl." He sighed into the crook of your neck, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

You were panting still, leaning back against him as you caught your breath.

"Can we go for a drive?" You asked quietly, stroking his knuckles while his arms were wrapped around your middle.

"Sure. Where do you wanna go?" He breathed, reveling in the comfort of having you in his embrace.

"I don't know, just... wherever you are." You said softly, one of those beautiful and gentle smiles on your face. His lip twitched upwards, and his cheeks became hot. You still had the ability to fluster him like on the first day.

"Okay.." he replied, swallowing down the butterflies that feared to rise up his throat from his stomach.

"Okay." You sighed, snuggling back into the warmth of his body.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

With several cozy blankets in tow, you made your way out of your warm and homely apartment to Leon's truck.

The dark paint shimmered slightly in the cool rays of moonlight. He opened the door for you with a gentle smile, and when he went to close it you pulled him in by the front of his sweater to press a sweet kiss to his lips as a thank you.

Leon hummed in delight, closing the door before getting into the driver's seat.

"You ready?" He asked, glancing over at you only to laugh when he saw you wrapped in a soft blanket, only your face peaking out.

"As I'll ever be." You replied enthusiastically, your cheeks rounding from your wide smile.

Leon chuckled and shook his head, kicking the car into gear and pulling onto the street.

The quiet rumble of the tires on the street filled the silence between both of you.

There didn't need to be much talking, the two of you content in the safe and warm atmosphere of the truck.

You put on some cozy fall tunes and sunk back into your seat, admiring Leon's profile.

He was as handsome as ever; those blond locks, the beautiful bump on his nose, the curve of his lips and his strong chin that flowed nicely into his soft jawline. The light of the passing street lamps illuminated his features perfectly.

"So," He broke the silence, "how are you getting along with those costume ideas?"

"I've got a few." You hummed, cupping his hand, the one situated on the gear stick.

"Alright, what have you got?" He asked, a hand lazily grasping the steering wheel.

"My first idea was Morticia and Gomez. A classic, in my opinion. And they have a surprisingly healthy relationship."

Leon smirked.

"That's basically an excuse for me to touch you all night. Worship you, even. Not a bad suggestion, Cara mia." He purred, emphasizing the nickname. You laughed and gently shoved his arm.

"At least we know you'd be an excellent Gomez." You snorted, rolling your eyes playfully when he wiggled his brows at you.

"Next I thought we could be the Maitlands from Beetlejuice. They're not the most recognizable but I think they fit us pretty well." You smiled.

"Besides, I'd kill to see you in a flannel and some glasses." You grinned, watching as Leon huffed and slightly turned his head to hide his reddening cheeks.

"Oh, shut up." He grumbled.

"What? You'd be perfect for a dorky model builder who loves his wife!" You argued.

He perked up, a quirk of interest in his brow.

"So you're saying I get to be pretend to be married to you for a night? Sign me up."

He smirked and you chuckled.

"You could be married to me for real, you know. It's in your hands, I'm just saying." You shrugged, slightly showing off your bare ringfinger.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart. You'll get that ring sooner than you think." Leon hummed, taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

The statement caught you off guard and your face suddenly felt hot and your ribcage too small for your pounding heart.

You cleared your throat and kept your head low, trying to hide your flustered face.

"Moving on; the last one I have is Ghostface and a helpless victim. Those Scream parodies are gold." You laughed.

Leon winced at the suggestion and you tilted your head.

"Not your favorite idea?"

"Let's keep that one in the bedroom, yeah?" He winked at you with a devilish smirk, cackling when you smacked his arm and began scolding him.

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Leon whispered with a sultry tone, laughing when you squawked at him.

"Shut up!"

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

At this point, you had pulled over at the side of the road, the stars an image to magnificent to pass up.

You and Leon were huddled together on the hood of his truck, wrapped in blankets as you gazed at the sparkling specks of gold on the deep indigo tent that was the clear night sky.

"Aren't they pretty?" You whispered, your head resting on his shoulder, trying to make out the constellations.

"Yeah... but they don't hold a candle to you." Leon replied quietly, a soft smile on his face.

"Charmer." You chuckled.

"Maybe, but you're the prettiest and brightest star in my sky."

You sighed with a smile, a constant in your life since Leon became a part of it.

"Leon Kennedy, do you have any idea how badly I want to kiss you right now?"

He chuckled.

"What's stopping you, huh? I'm all yours, baby."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

That's how you ended up with him on top of you in the back of his car, his tongue teasing your mouth while his hand was on its steady way into your pants.

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair while he forced your legs open with the width of him.

His other hand was gently cradling your face, stroking your cheekbone with a softness that made you melt. It was a mess of spit and a clashing of teeth, with occasional moans and sighs.

He swallowed up every pretty sound you made, vowing to keep them in the deepest parts of his heart that were reserved for you, and you only.

His fingers graced the waistline of your panties, only for them to trail further down, over your mound until he was caressing your clothed folds with firm strokes.

Your mouth fell open and your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the delicious sensation.

"Oh, fuck..." you breathed, a whimper escaping your throat when the rumble of Leon's chuckle vibrated against the skin of your neck.

"Does that feel good, baby?" He heaved with a smirk, groaning when you nodded eagerly.

"Such a pretty angel..." he whispered, going back to devouring your mouth while he stroked along the wet spot that had formed on your underwear.

Your pants were shimmied down all the way to your ankles, along with your panties.

"Open up for me." He purred, pressing two of his fingers down on your tongue, watching as you took them deep in your mouth and began suckling on them.

You moaned around his digits, feeling his callouses and the contours of them against the roof of your mouth.

"That's a good girl..." he praised, rivulets of drool running from the corners of your lips.

He pulled them free, earning a displeased whine from you before gently rubbing at your slit. You jolted at the euphoric feeling and were reduced to a blabbering mess.

"Oh, please, please, please, please..." You babbled, hooking your legs around his hips to pull him closer.

Leon chuckled breathlessly and fished his throbbing cock out of his boxers and sweatpants, sliding his tip through your folds.

The head of his dick caught on your clit in a way that made you cry out in bliss, a sound that was enough for him to cease his teasing.

"I'll give you what you want, sweetheart." He grunted, pushing his whole length inside of you. He moaned at the snug fit of your velveteen walls around him, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

When he bottomed out, you let out a shuddered groan at the feeling of being so full of him.

"Shit... you feel so good..." Leon breathed, beginning to rut his hips against yours the best of his ability in the small space of the backseat.

It didn't take long before he was thrusting into you at a considerable pace, his thumb circling your clit while you moaned and writhed beneath him.

The heavy weight of him was comforting as it pressed down on you. It was nearly impossible to catch your breath with him kissing you so feverishly.

The pleasure was overwhelming, making your head spin as you were consumed by the ecstasy that seeped deep into your bones.

At a particularly hard thrust you clenched around him and cried out, making a strained groan rip from his throat.

"Oh, God... please, I'm so close..." You whimpered, tightly holding onto his shoulders to ground yourself as best as you could.

Leon was panting, keeping his thrusts and the pressure on your clit steady.

"You look so good all fucked out." He moaned, watching your glazed eyes and scrunched brows.

You mewled when the coil in your stomach started to tighten, a slow and strong build up.

Like a crack of thunder, that coil snapped and your orgasm washed over you, making you shudder from pleasure.

A jumbled mess of moans left your mouth as the bliss flooded your veins and you clamped down on his cock.

Leon was close behind, grunts and groans signaling his climax as he cupped your chin and pulled you into a kiss.

He spilled inside of you, filling you up with a pleasantly warm feeling. You tried to catch your breath, Leon panting above you.

"Y-You know how you said I'm the prettiest and brightest star in your sky?" You heaved, riding out the aftershock of your release.

"Yeah. What about it?" Leon tilted his head, breathing heavily.

"Stars can only be seen when it's dark. So, will you be my night so I can continue to shine?"

He huffed softly, a sound of fondness before gently cupping your face.

"I'll be whatever you need me to be."

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What would your couples costume with Leon be???

More Leon and others -> 💫

《Leon tgalist》: @vampkennedy @dmitriene @k-fallingstar @entr4p3 @allysunny @withonly-sweetheart @leonslittlekennedy

Lmk if you want to be added to my taglist 🩷

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#bumblebeesfromvenus #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil leon #leon s kennedy smut #leon smut #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy comfort #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut

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simplygojo · 20 days ago

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Another Speeding Ticket

Author's Note: Hey y'all, tysm for all the love n care you've been sending me. I am basically back to normal now, so lets assume our resume Kinktober schedule..haha.

Spooky Szn Masterlist

This kinktober oneshot includes a Kinktober Prompt request, I hope you enjoy ;) I am getting very smutted out, so I unfortubatly will not be able to complete all of your requests! I will try my best, even if I finish them in November, but thank you guys so much for the support!

Pairing: Cop!Nanami x f!reader

Request: This request was by @aurorascorpio, although I slightly altered it. I hope you enjoy :) The request is linked here for any interested <3

I also included a few other anon requests in this fic, so I hope YOU ALL ENJOY!!! (shoutout to 🐜 !!)

Kinks: Spanking, Overstimulation, Edging, Size, Brat Taming, Breeding & Gun Play

Word Count: 2.2K

Kinktober Taglist: @nanamisrighthand @simplyyyuji; @megumisdivinedogs; @lovleyredheadfairy

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, gun play, fingering, spanking, size kink, overstimulation, breeding, brat taming, aggressive sex.

The sound of your engine roaring down the empty highway was almost therapeutic, the thrill of speeding through the night air intoxicating.

But as soon as the familiar red and blue lights flashed behind you, your heart sank. Not again.

You groaned, already knowing who it was. Every time. It was always him.

You pulled over, slamming your palms on the steering wheel in frustration, and your forehead followed, leaning against it in defeat.

You didn’t even need to look in the mirror to recognize the tall figure walking toward your car.

His slow, measured footsteps sent your pulse racing, not in fear, but in a way that made your body heat.

Nanami Kento—your boyfriend—who was also a cop, and didn’t mind giving you speeding tickets despite your relationship.

Blonde hair slicked back, face perfectly composed and stern, his broad shoulders filling out his uniform almost too well.

You swallowed as he approached, your heart hammering in your chest. This was probably the fifth time he’d pulled you over in the last month alone, and each time, his scolding made you feel like a naughty child being disciplined.

But this time felt different. There was a tension in the air you couldn’t quite place, an edge to his movements, like his patience had finally run dry.

He tapped on your window, and you rolled it down, biting your lip as his sharp eyes locked onto yours.

“Step out of the vehicle, Miss y/l/n,” Nanami’s voice was clipped, no room for argument.

You blinked, your stomach doing nervous flips. "W-wait, is this really necessary? I wasn’t going that fast—"

“You were going twenty-five over the limit. Again,” he said, his tone hard as steel. His gaze pierced through you, making you shrink back. “Step. Out.”

You hesitated but did as he commanded, heart pounding in your chest.

The night air was cool against your legs as you stood beside your car, your skirt fluttering slightly as you faced him.

Nanami stood tall in front of you, his jaw clenched, looking every bit the no-nonsense cop he always was.

There was a certain dominance in the way he towered over you, the stiff set of his jaw making your breath hitch. You could practically feel the weight of his authority pressing down on you, making your knees weak.

“I’ve warned you so many times, y/n,” he sighed, his voice lowering as his frustration bled through. “And yet here you are, speeding again. Reckless.”

“I-I’m sorry, really! I swear this is the last time—"

“No. You don’t get to talk your way out of this one,” Nanami cut you off, his tone sharp.

“You don’t seem to learn your lesson. Maybe I need to teach you a different way.” His eyes darkened, and before you could process what was happening, he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around and pressing your front against the side of your car.

You gasped, heart racing. “Wait—what are you doing?”

“Bend over,” he ordered, voice deep with authority.

Your breath caught in your throat as his hand pressed against your back, forcing you into position.

You could feel his presence looming behind you, his large frame towering over your bent form.

The cold metal of his gun on his waist grazed your lower back as his hips pressed into you, and the weight of it sent a shiver through you.

“You’ve been a brat every time I’ve caught you,” he muttered darkly, his hands sliding down your waist, roughly pulling your skirt up to expose your panties.

“Maybe it’s time I put you in your place.”

The thrill of it all made your thighs clench together, heat pooling between your legs. You squirmed, trying to protest, but he was having none of it.

“Be a good girl, my dear,” he commanded, his voice laced with danger. “Or do I need to use more force?”

You shook your head, biting your lip, already feeling the wetness soaking through your panties.

“No, sir…”

His large hands roamed over your ass, kneading the flesh before giving it a sharp slap. You yelped, the sting sending a rush of pleasure straight to your core.

“You like that, don’t you?” He growled, landing another smack, harder this time.

The sound echoed in the quiet night as you gasped, body arching against the car.

“You act like a brat, and you’ll get treated like one.”

Another slap, then another.

The rhythm of his spanking had your ass burning, your legs weak. You were dripping, your panties clinging to your slick folds as he continued his punishment.

Without warning, he yanked your panties down, leaving you completely exposed to the night air.

Your heart raced, both embarrassment and excitement swirling together in a heady mix.

Nanami’s fingers slid between your legs, teasing your entrance before slipping one thick finger inside.

You moaned, your body instantly responding, grinding back against his hand. The stretch of just one of his fingers was enough to send a surge of heat through your core, your walls clenching around the intrusion, desperate for more.

“So eager,” he muttered, pleased with the way your body reacted to him.

“My job is to enforce the law, and teach people lessons when they break those laws…”

He unholstered his gun, the metallic sound making your pulse quicken.

The cold barrel pressed against your hip as his fingers moved inside you with deliberate slowness, curling against your walls.

The juxtaposition of pleasure and danger sent a shiver down your spine.

The pressure of the gun against your skin made you gasp, your body arching against the car.

He wasn’t rough, but the weight of it was enough to remind you who was in control. His thumb brushed against your clit, applying just enough pressure to have you trembling beneath him.

“You don’t learn, do you?” Nanami murmured, his voice deep and steady, even as his fingers slipped deeper, hitting a spot that made your legs weak.

“I’ve warned you time and time again, and yet here you are, acting like a reckless brat.”

You whimpered, pushing back against him, desperate for more. But Nanami wasn’t having it.

He withdrew his fingers almost entirely, barely grazing your entrance as you squirmed in frustration.

“Stay still,” he commanded, the gun now resting against your waist as a cold reminder. “You don’t get to decide when you get what you want.”

Your hips moved on their own, seeking the friction he was withholding, the need in your belly tightening like a vice.

The absence of his touch left a hollow ache, but his control over you kept you teetering on the edge of submission.

Every time you felt yourself climbing toward release, he would slow down, making you gasp in frustration.

The ache between your legs grew, your need for him becoming desperate, but you couldn’t bring yourself to beg. Not yet.

His fingers slipped back inside, slow and deliberate, rubbing against that sensitive spot that made your legs shake.

“Look at you,” he muttered darkly. “All that attitude, and now you’re desperate for me.”

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to moan too loudly, your pride still intact despite the torment.

But Nanami could read you too well, knew how close you were.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” he taunted, his thumb brushing over your clit in maddening circles. “I can feel how badly you need it. How you’re shaking for it.”

“Yes…Yes sir” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop it.

Your pride wavered as the pleasure coursed through you, leaving you trembling against the car.

Nanami hummed in approval, but instead of giving you what you craved, he pressed the gun harder against your skin, reminding you who held all the power.

His pace slowed again, the edging cruel as your body throbbed with need.

“Have some patience, my dear” he growled, his voice dangerously low.

His fingers worked you with precision, drawing you to the edge once more, only to pull back, leaving you teetering on the brink.

Nanami’s grip on your waist tightened, the authority in his touch clear as he held you firmly against the cool metal of the car.

His voice was low, commanding, as he muttered darkly into your ear, “If you don’t learn, maybe I’ll have to give you something to remember. Maybe putting a baby in you will finally get you to listen.”

Your breath hitched at his words, heat pooling between your legs as the weight of his intention sank in.

His fingers left you aching, desperate for more, and before you could respond, Nanami moved swiftly.

His belt clinked as he unbuckled it, and you felt the heavy press of his cock against your slick entrance.

The size of him alone had you gasping, your body trembling with anticipation.

Without warning, he pushed into you, his cock stretching you wide as he filled you completely in one rough thrust.

The sensation of him deep inside you made your legs buckle, and you braced yourself against the car, the overwhelming fullness leaving you breathless.

He was so thick, so impossibly big, that it felt like your body was struggling to take all of him.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Nanami grunted, his voice strained with restraint. His hands roamed your hips, holding you steady as he pulled out only to slam back into you, his pace rough and unrelenting from the start.

Each thrust pushed you forward against the cool surface of the car, your ass burning from the rough spanking and your body tingling with overstimulation.

“Such a fucking brat,” he growled, landing another sharp slap on your ass that sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you.

“Maybe this will finally teach you to behave.”

The sharp sting of his hand contrasted with the deep, pounding thrusts of his cock, and you could barely keep yourself together, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiralling toward the edge. But Nanami was far from done.

He leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered,

“You’re going to take every inch of me, and you’re not going to cum until I say so.” His thumb found your clit again, rubbing tight circles that had you clenching around him, desperate for release.

The pleasure was too much, your body trembling as you felt your orgasm build, but Nanami wasn’t giving you the satisfaction.

He pulled back slightly, dragging his cock out of you slowly, only to slam back into you with such force that you cried out, your hands scrambling for purchase against the car.

“You think you can just do whatever you want?” Nanami taunted, his hips snapping against yours with punishing force. “Breaking the rules like a spoiled brat? Not anymore.”

His pace quickened, the force of his thrusts driving you closer and closer to the brink, but every time you felt yourself teetering on the edge, he slowed down just enough to keep you from falling over.

The overstimulation had your body shaking, desperate for release, but Nanami wouldn’t let you have it.

His words sent a shiver through you, the promise of him filling you making your body respond in ways you couldn’t control.

You wanted it, wanted him to finish inside you, to claim you in every way. The idea of him filling you with his sweet release, of the possibility of it taking, had your thighs clenching with need.

“Please,” you whimpered, your pride shattered as you begged him. “Please, let me cum…”

Nanami chuckled darkly, his hand landing another sharp slap on your ass before he picked up the pace, fucking you hard and deep, his cock hitting spots that made your vision blur.

Your body tensed, teetering on the edge once again as he fucked you harder, the pleasure overwhelming as he pounded into you.

His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing with brutal intensity, and the combination of his size, the stinging spanks, and the threat of being filled finally pushed you over the edge.

You were practically seeing stars as you felt the familiar sense of pleasure begin to creep up on you.

“Cum for me,” Nanami commanded, his voice sharp as he thrust into you with one final, deep stroke. “Take it all.”

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body shaking as you came hard, your walls clenching around him as you milked his cock.

The intensity of it had your legs trembling, and you barely registered Nanami’s groan of satisfaction as he followed you over the edge, his cock twitching as he spilled inside you, filling you with his cum.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he said, his voice muffled as he squeezed the skin on your hips tightly, staying buried deep inside you as he emptied himself, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned down.

“Maybe now you’ll finally listen.”

Your body was spent, your legs weak as you leaned against the car, panting and trembling from the overwhelming pleasure.

Nanami stayed inside you for a moment longer, making sure you felt every bit of him before he finally pulled out, leaving you breathless and full.

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joequiinn · 7 months ago

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The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 5

[chap four] | [all chapters here] | [chap six]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: I'm very excited for this chapter because it's actually one of the scenes that inspired this whole fic! Before I knew what the hell I even wanted to write, I played this idea of a figure skating character over and over again in my head as I built up the story around it. I'm a little behind on writing the next chap, so it may be a slightly longer wait between this and the next one! Hope you all love it!

wc: 4.8k

taglist: @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220 @fromasgardandback @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

Chapter Five

You skated at least four times a week. You’ve done so since you were ten years old, when you decided that you wanted to take figure skating more seriously. Whether or not you had competitions, whether or not you were in the mood for it, you always stuck with your skating routine. With competition season coming up in November, you knew you’d have to start practicing more, putting in longer hours and more days in preparation.

Or maybe not. After all, competing was something that your mom enjoyed, that she encouraged wholeheartedly. Regardless of how much you enjoyed it, it didn’t exactly fit the teenage rebellion thing you had going on right now. Maybe you wouldn’t go to competition this year, maybe you’d skip out on your final season out of pure spite - now that would be cruel. Although a part of you hurt at that idea - because you really did love skating - you reasoned that it was something you had to consider.

Fridays were always very long days for you. While your peers would be set free to roam following the 3pm school bell, you had more obligations for the day. Once you left school, you crammed in as much homework as you could before hitting the ice rink by 4:30 at the latest to get your own practice in. Once that was done, you led a youth skating practice until 7pm, then you tried to squeeze in some more skating time before the hockey team took to the ice at 7:15. After arriving home at 8 o’clock or later, you crammed more homework so you wouldn’t have to deal with it over the weekend, and then by that point you’d be too worn out for anything else, so you generally slept late into the next morning.

This had been your routine for over a year now, ever since your own couch suggested that you needed to get more extracurriculars under your belt for your college applications. She had insisted that your resume would look far more impressive if you showed that you had teaching experience and “leadership potential,” an idea that really appealed to your parents, who were determined for you to get into a good school, maybe even on a figure skating scholarship. So, you ended up taking over the Friday night children’s lessons whether you wanted to or not.

You honestly despised it. You led children age 5 to 7, and they were a constant pain in the ass. You couldn’t raise your voice without one of them crying, you couldn’t leave them to their own devices without someone inevitably ending up hurt. Yet, you stuck with it because you were told to, because the adults around you insisted that you needed to. You couldn’t stand the way your coach would insist that this would help develop your skills, you couldn’t stand how your mother insisted “you’ll look back on this so fondly when you’re older.” These damned kids skating lessons were something else you’d probably drop soon, because you barely tolerated them as is.

While everyone else was at the football game, while Eddie was probably off playing his stupid fantasy game or doing something equally as nerdy, you were here at the ice rink, shouting instructions at children while parents and hockey players watched. Some of the parents had made it clear before that they weren’t fond of your impatient and mean teaching methods, but your coach always seemed to talk them out of pulling their kids from your group. She always argued something about you being the best skating in the county, but you weren’t sure how true that was - sure, you had your fair share of medals, but even with your ego you were pretty sure there were better skaters at your level.

“Come on, slackers, we’ve got five minutes left!” You taunted your group of 11 kids as they skated around the perimeter of the rink as a cool down. You zipped ahead of them, leading the charge as you skated backwards to keep an eye on them.

Many of the older kids had grown used to your abrasive coaching, but you could see that many of the newbies were still frightened of you, your loud voice, and your cold eyes. As a means of excusing your poor teaching style, you always said that skating was a tough sport and they needed to toughen up if they wanted to be any good at it. For how pretty and elegant figure skating could be, you knew from experience that competitive skating could be harsh, so you figured you were helping these kids prepare for it.

Because the Hawkins High hockey team had the rink after your group every Friday, many of them were already sitting on the sidelines, getting their gear ready or watching you work. The cocky part of you enjoyed the attention, but hockey players were stupid, so you rarely gave any of them a chance whenever they tried talking to you. Nonetheless, when you were in a good mood, you enjoyed putting on a bit of a show for them, shooting flirty glances their way or occasionally calling out remarks to them between instructing the kids. Tonight, you were paying them little mind, but that didn’t stop you from looking their way every now and again.

As you led the kids back to the center of the ice to wrap up the lesson, a lot of their parents were also waiting in the bleachers or out in the lobby. While you skated back and forth in front of your little army of children, going over some instructions for their next practice with your coach on Monday, your eyes roamed the bleachers. You gave a wicked grin to the hockey players that watched you, meanwhile you took in the parents with very little regards. It was as you looked over the clusters of parents that you saw a familiar face sitting at the penalty bench, and unintentionally you let your toe pick drag on the ice, which very nearly caused you to trip.

God damn Eddie Munson.

As you glared in his direction, hoping your momentary lack of balance didn’t make you look too stupid, you dismissed the kids before gliding towards the dasher board. Eddie, grinning like an asshole, stood up to meet you as children began to exit the ice. You braced yourself on the rail of the board, eyes narrowed at Eddie who appeared far too amused for your liking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask in lieu of a greeting. Eddie briefly glances over at the kids leaving the ice.

“You’re incredible with children.” He mocked, smiling far too wide for your liking; you narrowed your eyes while wondering just how long he’d been here, “Figured I might find you here.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” You respond coldly, gaze briefly looking in the direction of the hockey team to find a couple of them watching your interaction.

“You did say we needed to make plans, figure out how this was going to work,” Eddie started, taking in your red cheeks and slightly damp forehead that developed over the course of your skating lessons.

“I also said we’d talk about it next week.” You glowered a little, not worried if any of the hockey players saw it - maybe they’d simply mistake it for a lovers quarrel. Eddie grinned, holding his arms up as if he were a presenter on some dumb show.

“No time like the present, right?” Your unamused face gave him all the answer he needed, and his expression fell a little in annoyance, “And here I hoped I was being a good fake boyfriend by visiting you at the rink.”

“You’re being too good a fake boyfriend,” You jab.

Now that all the kids were off the ice, you slid towards the open gate; Eddie kept pace with you on the other side of the dasher board, meeting you at the gate and offering you his hand in assistance. You looked between his face and his outstretched hand with a glare, but eventually accepted his help, stepping over the barrier and onto the slightly cushy floor on the other side.

“I told you not tonight because I’m busy.” You walk over to the gym bag you left sitting on the nearest bleachers. As you sat beside it, Eddie shrugged with a carelessness that seemed almost false.

“Then I’ll go.” He answered simply as you removed your skates, “Just thought it might not be a bad idea to get to know you a little better. It’s not gonna be easy to fake date someone who you know nothing about.”

You shot him a harsh look while putting skate guards over your blades. You didn’t want to admit that he was right, but he had a good point, especially since you had already discussed it before. You sighed heavily through your nose, your cold eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Can’t it wait? I’ve had a long day.”

Eddie studied you for a moment, leaning back against the dasher board before looking around the ice rink. You quickly put some worn sneakers on your feet and stood, picking your bag and turning away with the intention to leave. But Eddie’s gentle grip on your wrist stopped you from going anywhere, causing you to look between his hand and his face. As you two held eye contact, you realized that Eddie could be just as stubborn as you when he wanted; damn, was this going to be difficult.

“Let me buy you dinner - I’m sure you’re starving,” Eddie started, and for a fleeting moment you wondered if he thought your attitude was because you were hangry. You chewed your lower lip, eyes staring critically at Eddie for another few moments before you let out a defeated sigh, allowing your shoulders to relax a little. Considering that it had been nearly eight hours since your lunch break, it might now be a bad idea to eat something.

Eddie’s eyes softened at your silent resignation, the corner of his mouth pulling up. He finally released your wrist, nodding his head in the direction of the lobby, “Come on, you pick.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Your pick ended up being a 24-hour diner downtown. Eddie showed clear confusion when you mentioned it, so you explained that - for whatever reason - the diner had become something of a tradition, where students congregated post-Friday night football into the wee hours of the night. You’d joined that crowd a number of times in the past, but had no more interest in it - what you were interested in was having people see you and Eddie out together.

You knew it would still be at least an hour before the football crowd arrived, but that wasn’t such a bad thing - it gave you and Eddie a bit of time to actually become acquainted, to learn more about each other beyond “ice princess” and “the freak.”

You studied Eddie while sipping on a chocolate shake, waiting for your food to arrive. He stared back at you unabashedly, and you figured you could be locked into this staring contest until the end of time given how stubborn you both could be. As if Eddie knew what you were thinking, he smirked, finally caving as he looked away from you.

“Not to sound cliche,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck, almost as if he were nervous, but you assumed that couldn’t be true, “but… tell me about yourself?”

You smiled at how dumb the question was - that was so cliche. It was as good a starting place as any you figured, but that didn’t make it sound any less silly and forced. You leaned back in your seat, still holding tight to your milkshake as if it were a lifeline.

Putting on your best Miss America voice, you replied, “Well, I’m freshly 18 from Hawkins, Indiana. I love long walks on the beach, snuggling up with a good book, and I hope one day we’ll have world peace.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, although you could tell he was fighting back a grin, “You’re making this very challenging considering that it was your idea.”

You shrug, taking a big gulp of the chocolate shake, “I guess I’m just a challenging person.”

“You guess?” Eddie laughed mockingly at that, “You’re the most challenging I’ve met. So, how about you try relaxing a little or else no one’s going to buy that we’re together.”

You made a face at the near-insult, finally putting down your drink. You leaned your elbows on the table, taking in Eddie’s face for a moment, stubbornly resisting the urge to say anything. Again, he had a good point, not that you wanted to tell him that. Eddie appeared to have an idea as he mirrored your pose.

“Okay, we’ll go back and forth, a question for a question; how’s that?” You nodded, “Right. First question: Why me?”

Your brows furrowed a little in thought, pinning down a good answer while trying to recall what you’ve already told him, “Haven’t I already explained that?”

“Kind of.” Eddie rolled his hand in a motion that basically said “but go on.”

You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment while thinking, “Your reputation. People don’t know you, but your reputation is in the absolute gutter. No better person to turn to than the guy who everyone in the school already hates.”

Eddie nodded in acceptance of the answer, “Okay, your turn.”

You grinned a little, a question already on your lips, “Why’d you agree to it?”

It was something you’d speculated briefly throughout the week, as you thought that your trade offer might not have been a compelling enough reason for Eddie to agree to this stupid plan. And now you could finally get the answer you were looking for.

Eddie silently stared at you in consideration, and again it almost felt like he was able to read your thoughts somehow. Finally, he answered, “Curiosity.”

You raised a brow in question, to which he once more scratched the back of his neck - maybe that actually was a nervous habit, so you took note of it.

“We both know this idea is kinda crazy,” Eddie started, mulling over his thoughts before continuing, “But I wanted to see how it plays out. See if we can actually trick people into believing it. And I wanted to see if you were as awful as I thought you were.”

You balked instantly, an amused huff escaping your mouth, “‘Awful?’ Jesus, you keep acting like I’m the devil or something.”

Eddie made a face while shrugging, not disagreeing with you, “You thought the same about me. So, let’s call it square.”

Food was finally brought to your table, and you had to resist the urge to attack the greasy burger set in front of you; you didn’t need Eddie to see you act like a ravenous gremlin over some food, even if it had been over eight hours since you’d eaten anything. But you nonetheless dug in, albeit with far more control than your empty, growling stomach would have liked.

“Your turn.” You say around a bite of food, causing Eddie to smile in amusement and the unladylike action.

“Hmm…” He leaned forward, scrutinizing you as he contemplated his next question. Self consciously, you wiped at the corner of your mouth just to make sure there wasn’t any stray ketchup or grease sitting there, “Why ice skating?”

“Because it’s better than cheerleading.” You smiled at your own joke before giving a slightly better answer, “I always thought it was pretty. Nothing else to it, unfortunately; no deep story and significance to it.”

“Fine.” Eddie responded almost as if he was disappointed by the mundane answer.

“Why Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Your questions can’t keep being off-shoots of mine.” Eddie laughed a little, and despite yourself it caused you to smile smally as well.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” He responded while pointing at himself, “I get to come up with some of the rules now, remember?”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes with a degree of fondness, which you immediately found strange, so you tried to wipe the look from your face. Nope, you weren’t fond of Eddie Munson, not at all.

You went back to your food, hoping Eddie didn’t catch the amused look on your face. You spoke around another bite of food, “Do you have siblings?”

“None that I know of.” He replied around his own mouthful of food, “But I wouldn’t exactly be surprised if there were any out there.”

You cocked your head a little at the response; it wasn’t so much shocking or sad, rather it was unexpected and different from your own life. You made a mental note to learn more about Eddie’s family, if not tonight then at a later point.

“What’s your plan after graduation?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then paused - what was your plan now that you were trying to make your own decisions? You hadn’t even considered it. Did you still want to go to college? Where? Studying what? You suddenly realized that you had no true plan for yourself, only the one outlined by your parents, and that realization made you nervous.

“Honest answer: not a fucking clue.” Eddie looked taken aback by the response, so you continued, “My plan before was getting into a good school on a skating scholarship, and studying something completely irrelevant. My parents expect my skating to carry me through life until some good, rich man sweeps me off my feet.”

“But that’s not your plan anymore?”

“That’s another question.” You give him a teasing grin, causing Eddie to roll his eyes, “First, answer me this: If you weren’t stuck in Hawkins, where would you go?”

Eddie grinned with an unexpected eagerness, “LA. The music scene there is insane, and I’d happily sleep on the streets if it meant I had a shot at making my own music.”

Your eyes softened ever so slightly at the unexpected, genuine response - admittedly, you didn’t peg Eddie as the type to have any real goals. But music? That was interesting to you since you weren’t even aware that he played any instruments. You wondered if he was actually any good at it, or if it was some foolish aspiration.

“Now, what’s your plan?” Eddie repeated, smirking at the look on your face - this was one of the few times you didn’t look like a total bitch, so he appreciated it. In fact, you looked relaxed and, dare he say, content; that was certainly unexpected from you.

When you shrugged, he shook his head, leaning forward again, “No, you come up with a plan right now. Don’t base it off what your parents want or what you think sounds like the right answer. What do you want to do with your life once we’re done with this shit hole?”

You contemplated, a mild concern washing over you as you stared at Eddie - what the hell did you want? And why did you suddenly feel so vulnerable because of the question. You had to rip your gaze away from Eddie’s, hardening your expression as you tried to think up an answer that felt right.

“I… I like art, I love clothes,” You started dumbly, glancing at Eddie through your lashes, expecting him to make a face at the lame answer, “I don’t know shit about them in a technical way, but it might be fun for college. Take painting or sewing classes during the day, skate until my feet hurt at night, maybe… I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, LA… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.”

“Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to LA together after graduation, huh?” Eddie smiled widely, and you allowed an amused look to cross your face.

“Oh, I’m sure.” You returned to your food as you tried to come up with a good question for Eddie. An intriguing one came to you, so you asked before you could second guess it, “How do you expect your fake girlfriend to act?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed; it didn’t appear to be due to him misunderstanding the question, but rather that it was unexpected; he even looked maybe hesitant to answer it. Again, he scratched his neck.

You lean forward a little, looking at him seriously, “Give me a good answer, okay? We’re just gonna keep going in circles otherwise.”

Eddie shrugged, “Maybe I don’t have any expectations.”

“Then come up with some.” You immediately counter, prodding the same way he had about your plans for the future. Eddie stared at you with scrutiny while chewing the inside of his lip, as if he didn’t want to come up with a response to the question. You waited, making a mock sweet face at him while you chowed down on your fries. You were going to demand an answer until he gave you one.

“Well, going off the rules you already established,” He made a bit of a face as if to mock the oh-so-sacred fake dating rules, “Aside from playing nice in front of others, it might be helpful if you were less stubborn; you’re like a damn bull.”

You gave him a joshing smile right back, “Fair. Is that it?”

Eddie quickly shook his finger; now it was just a back-and-forth game of you mocking one another, “Ah, that’s another question.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You rolled your eyes with a short laugh, “That is not another question.”

Eddie gave a fake look of apology, shrugging again, “Unfortunately, it is.”

You threw a french fry at him, which lamely hit his chest then landed in his lap. As he laughed and picked it up, you found yourself smiling fondly again, and you quickly tried to shake off the expression.

At that moment, the bell above the front door chimed, and immediately the diner was filled with rambunctious conversation. Your heart jumped a little, realizing the time, and you briefly glanced in the direction of the door; the group that had entered wasn’t your friends, although you recognized them. You turned your attention back to Eddie, who gave you another grin.

“Showtime.” He stated simply, and then a thought appeared to cross his mind, “You want another expectation? Tell me if anything I do is too much, but otherwise let me do what I do - you don’t need to be in control all the time.”

“Don’t I, though?” You countered haughtily, which was met by a flash of seriousness across Eddie’s eyes.

“No, you don’t. I know what I’m doing, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, not entirely convinced that he did, in fact, know what he was doing. Considering that you’d never seen him even interact with a girl before, you weren’t sure if he knew the first thing about dating or romance. But despite your doubts, you relented, relaxing your shoulders as if to show you were relinquishing some control.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes nonetheless, forever obstinate as you mocked, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something, but otherwise I’ll let you do what you do.”

“Was that so hard?” Eddie replied with a condescending smirk. You sneered before relaxing your face, knowing your friends were bound to appear any minute now.

As you stole another glance at the door, you suddenly felt Eddie’s fingers graze the back of your hand, drawing your attention back to him with a confused little knot between your brows. He held your gaze as if to make a point, as if to remind you of the conversation you just had, that he knew what he was doing. His hand simply sat on top of yours, your fingers ever so slightly lacing together - he raised his brows as if to dare you to pull away from him. You had to resist the urge to narrow your eyes at him and snatch your hand away, and in turn Eddie gave you a cocky grin before continuing to eat with his free hand.

Eventually, your friends appeared, although they didn’t notice you at first. They were all so full of energy as they excitedly spoke to each other, descending upon a few tables in the middle of the diner and pushing them together. The staff were used to it, although you knew from experience that they nonetheless hated it; you guys were always disruptive to the other patrons, and you figured that was never going to change.

You tried your best not to stare, but your eyes kept trailing over, kept studying the excited faces of the people you considered friends only a couple of weeks ago. After your eyes had drifted over for the umpteenth time, you felt Eddie lightly squeeze your fingers, causing you to unintentionally sneer at how strange it was to maintain this physical contact with him.

“Stop staring,” He instructed when you looked back at him.

With a quarrelsome look in your eyes, you did as Eddie told you, returning your attention to the half eaten burger on your plate, “Talk to me about something, then.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t care, just talk so I can pretend to be interested.”

Eddie looked mildly put off by that, and you realized that you’d taken your customary mean tone with him. You couldn’t seem to help yourself with your former cohorts nearby, it was as if their energy was rubbing off on you.

“You know what I’m going to talk about,” Eddie taunted with a wide grin.

Your face fell in realization, “Please not Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I’m gonna do it.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“So, there’s this character, Kas, who has really interesting lore--”

You threw another fry at Eddie, and at that same moment, you felt someone come up alongside your table. You both look up to see Amelia there with a critical look on her face; your gaze drifts past her, noticing that a few people from her table were also looking at you and Eddie.

You met Amelia’s eyes again, giving her a wide, false smile, “Small world.”

Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, “Yeah, I’m sure you just completely forgot we always come here after games.”

“Maybe she just wanted to see her dear friends.” Eddie chimed in mockingly, once again surprising you with his willingness to instigate confrontation. You laughed as a dumbfounded look crossed Amelia’s at his remark.

“I don’t know what the hell she sees in you.” Amelia snarked with a glare before turning her gaze back to you, “And I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but it’s already getting pretty old.”

You shrug with exaggerated nonchalance, “Sometimes a girl just needs a bit of a change every now and then, you know?”

Amelia didn’t look convinced as she rolled her eyes with a dramatic sigh, “Yeah, well, this ‘change’ doesn’t suit you at all.”

Before you could respond with another quip, Amelia spun on her heel and briskly returned to her table. By that point, everyone there was watching and awaiting Amelia’s return, quickly huddling together to whisper conspiratorially once she sat down.

You and Eddie shared an amused glance; he went back to poking at his food as your gaze trailed back to Amelia and company. You happened to lock eyes with Duncan, who stared at you with harsh scrutiny, as if he wasn’t buying this thing between you and Eddie in the slightest. You gave Duncan a mocking while, starting to wave before flipping him off, causing Eddie to snort and choke on his food. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he hit his chest a couple of times, trying to clear his throat. The sound of such a genuine laugh escaping you was absolutely foreign to Eddie, but he decided it was a sound he enjoyed, even if it was at his expense; he made a mental note that he had to find ways to make you laugh more that didn’t involve him choking.

“You could’ve killed me.” Eddie croaked before laughing himself, his smile wide.

“You’re fine.” You teased, squeezing his fingers while giving him a false pout of sympathy, “You big baby.”

Eddie rolled his eyes in amusement, digging his wallet out while finally relinquishing the grip he had on your hand, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He tossed money onto the table and stood, offering his hand to you again. You quickly snagged one last fry before accepting Eddie’s hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He once again laced his fingers with yours as he led you through the crowded diner, and you had to fight back the desire to cringe in confusion at it. The both of you eyed the crowd of Hawkins High’s elite as they watched you back critically.

Once outside the diner, Eddie paused in front of one of the large windows and pulled a ridiculous face at the kids still watching you; he quickly tugged your arm, leading you back towards the van as you laughed again at his antics.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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imaginedisish · 2 years ago

Text

The Only Exception (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! Ahhh here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This has been sitting in my WIPs since late November/early December. This is what I was working on before I got sick. I’m so happy it’s done. I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out, although I may have written something similar to this already. It’s very much inspired by “The Only Exception,” by Paramore. I’m hoping I didn’t use this song as a title yet....Oh well. ENJOY!

Summary: Din has been wildly overprotective of you lately, but maybe it’s because there’s something lying deep below the surface that’s been threatening to bubble over...

Warnings: SMUT!!!!! 18+ Please!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cursing, canon typical violence, Jedi!reader, Razor Crest still exists (and it’s def bigger in my head than it is in the show), praise kink, friends to lovers, angsty but fluffy and smutty dw, I only proofread like 2 times so it may be bad (it’s 3:16am...so...we die like men!), AFAB reader, uhhh I think that’s it...

Word Count: 3,078

“I swear to the Maker, if you don’t get back on the Crest now, I’m gonna-,”

Din is cut off by the sound of your lightsaber clashing through the plastoid armor of the stormtrooper to your left. You swing your saber around, showing off more than you need to. You throw it down the alleyway, feeling through the force as it cuts through another stormtrooper before finding its way back to your hand.

“You’re gonna what?” You say, tilting your head to the side. You point your saber to the stormtroopers scattered around the alleyway. “I just saved you.” You close your saber and cross your arms cockily.

Din shakes his head, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “And where’s the kid? You just left him on the Crest?” You roll your eyes, turning your back towards him as you remove your cloak from your shoulders. There, in perfect condition, is Grogu, secure in a little carrier on your back.

“You really think I’d be that dumb?” Your words have a callous edge to them. Din had been far moodier than usual over the past few days, and with that came a strange overprotectiveness that you hadn’t seen before. It was starting to feel as if he thought you were going to mess up, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. “You think I’d put the kid’s life at stake?”

“That’s not what I meant.” The anger in his voice has all but melted away. You’re shocked by how defeated he sounds now.

You inhale deeply, taking a moment to calm yourself down. “So what did you mean, Din?”

“We don’t have time for this now.” He’s curt and almost a bit cold, his modulated voice echoing off the walls of the alleyway. “We need to get back to the ship.”

You hate the way he’s brushing you off, ignoring you, pushing you to the side. You didn’t need this; you didn’t need to put up with his shit. Not anymore. “What is going on with you?” The words come out louder, more aggressive than you meant them to.

Din takes a single stride towards you, his broad figure practically shoving you against the wall in the process. “We are not doing this here.” The feeling of him being so close to you clouds your mind. You can’t form a coherent thought, never mind a sentence. You want to say something, to stand up for yourself, but you can’t. “Now cut the shit so we can get back to the ship.” There’s that anger again, that finality in his voice.

In the distance you can hear stormtroopers chatting, whispering your name, mumbling on about Grogu, warning each other about the Mandalorian. Din was right. There was no time to hash this out here. You nod, finally caving in. Din takes a step away from you, immediately grasping your wrist in his hand before making a break for the Crest, just on the other end of the alleyway.

Somehow you make it without being seen. Din lets go of your hand, motioning for you to get on the ship. You make a b-line for the back and carefully remove Grogu from his carrier, placing him in his crib. You stand frozen in place in front of it, watching his eyes flutter open and closed as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

You don’t want to move. You rather watch the child you had come to care so deeply for sleep peacefully than deal with a massively enraged Din. The oncoming fight would most definitely wake Grogu, so maybe it was best for you to hide in the little corner that you had come to call Grogu’s bedroom, completely unnoticed. But obviously, that’s not an option. You begrudgingly step towards the end of the hull and decide to keep your hands busy by organizing the tiny stock of food that lined a makeshift shelf along the far wall.

You can hear Din’s heavy steps on the other side of the ship, presumably heading up towards the cockpit. After a few seconds and many annoyed grunts from Din, the ship is lifted into the air and away from danger.

You try your best to bring yourself to get angry at him, to yell some explicative across the hull of the ship and spit a curse in his helmet-covered face. You wanted the consequences, for him to storm over and scream back. But you couldn’t – because things weren’t normally like this. Din had always been kind, caring, protective even.

He'd leave the cockpit to grab a blanket from his cot when you fell asleep in the co-pilot’s chair. He’d come back and gently, yet silently, tuck you in with it. It was the only blanket he had. Sometimes you’d wake up in his bed, having been carried into it at some point during the night. He’d be awake, taking care of the child, flying the Crest, making sure nothing and no green baby woke you up.

You’d be lying if you said his doting behavior didn’t draw you to him, that it didn’t make you crave him. Every soft touch on your shoulder, every time you pretended to be asleep just to feel his arms wrap around you as he brought you to his cot. You’d let your stares linger a little too long from time to time, pushing past your reflection in his armor, searching for some sort of sign that maybe he feels the same.

You wanted him to come up behind you, rest his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the exposed inch of skin where your top and your pants just can’t seem to meet, and whisper in your ear in that husky, modulated voice that he’s sorry, that he’ll make up to you by-

“Never, ever, do anything like that again.” You practically jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice. You quickly turn around, not realizing how close Din had gotten to you. His chest is practically flush against yours, the proximity causing you to stumble back against the shelf, threatening to bring it down with you.

Din immediately snakes an arm around your waist, keeping you from falling against the cold metal floors below. Your arms instinctively reach up around his neck to stabilize yourself. You’re glued to him now, and you don’t particularly want to let go. You swallow harshly, intimidated by the way the beskar clad man seems to tower over you, by the way you can smell him, by the way his forehead practically touches yours.

You take a deep breath, furrowing your brows and doing your best to collect your thoughts despite the fog that the moment seemed to create in your brain. “Do what? Save your ass?” You spit, instantly regretting the harshness of your words, even if he deserves them.

“You weren’t supposed to leave the ship.” He’s stern, his voice somehow punishing. “You were supposed to stay here with the kid.”

You shake your head, feeling far too much like a child caught playing in the front seat of their parent’s speeder. “You needed my help! You would’ve died out there without me! And I can handle myself,” You yell, trying to ignore how you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours. “If this is about risking the kid’s life, I promise you I wasn’t. I would never put him-,”

He cuts you off, “I know you wouldn’t, that’s not what this is about.”

What? You think to yourself, confused beyond belief. If this wasn’t about the child, then what could this possibly be about? “So then what’s the problem?” You ask, more aware of the way that Din is holding you against him now than you were before.

You can hear Din inhale deeply through the modulator. “You.” A shudder rolls down your spine. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” There’s still an edge in his voice, but he’s calmer now, almost pained, as if considering your death in some dark corner of his mind.

“Sorry that my death would be such an inconvenience for you,” You say sardonically. “It’ll be hard trying to replace me with some other force-wielding wizard that’ll be willing to babysit for you, since clearly that’s all I am.” You wanted the words to sting him, to hurt him, and maybe they did, but it felt like a punch in the gut to simply think them. You wanted to grab the words from where they still hung in the air and shove them back into your mouth, to swallow them so that they could burn in the acid of your stomach.

Din tilts his head down, crushed, defeated. Your heart winces. Fuck. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” His stare finds yours again, and you quickly look down at his shoulder, too embarrassed to have him look you in your eyes.

You shake your head. “But Din, that’s the problem,” You say, somehow finding the courage to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean. How am I supposed to know what you mean if you won’t kriffing tell-,”

“Fucking hell, I don’t want to lose you!”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

Din looks around the hull, as if the words he was searching for were hiding, wrapped somewhere around its silver walls. “I can’t lose you. And before you ask, no, it’s not because you train the kid or whatever the hell you think it is.” You can feel the pain in his voice, guilt quickly filling your gut. “It’s just…” He trails off, silence hanging heavy in the air.

“Well…what is it?” You mumble, struggling to force down the lump in your throat. You wish you could see his face, to get a sense of his expression, an inkling as to what he was really feeling.

“You,” He says, as if those three letters held some secret, omniscient being or meaning. To him, they did. It was you. You were the thing that kept him up at night, the thing that made him want to show every facet of his being for the first time in his life. “You’re reckless and careless and sometimes you drive me absolutely insane.”

You scoff. “Wow, what a glowing review of my services!”

Din shakes his head. “You don’t fucking get it. You’re so much more than that, because even though you drive me crazy,” He pauses; the modulator picks up his breath as it catches in his throat, “I know I’d never be able to spend an entire lifetime without you in it.”

You’re speechless. An entire lifetime? “Din I-,”

“Close your eyes.”

“What? You just said all that and you want me to close my-,”

“Just close your eyes. You trust me, don’t you?”

Of course I trust you, smart-ass, You think to yourself. So, you do what he says, shutting your eyes firmly. Then there’s a hiss, and then something clunks loudly against the floor. And then…

It’s warm, and soft, and smooth, and all those other perfect words someone would use to describe the perfect kiss. He has a mustache under all that metal, and now you know, because it tickles ever so gently just above your upper lip. His hands squeeze your hips just a bit tighter, pulling you further into his chest.

His lips press deeper into yours, hungrier. You keep your eyes closed tightly, your hands sliding up and into his hair, combing gently. He moans into your mouth at the touch as he guides you away from the shelf and towards his cot.

“D-Din,” You stutter in between gasps.

“What is it, mesh’la?” He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

You can feel the heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach, but there’s something stopping you, something telling you that there’s no possible way this could ever be real, that it wasn’t a set-up, that it wasn’t a dream. “Do you really want this?”

“More than anything.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and you silently wish to yourself that you could see it. “Do you?”

You nod, repeating his words, “More than anything.”

His lips find yours again, his knee nudging in between your thighs as he pushes you down onto his cot. He’s on top of you now, his hands on either side of your body. “Wanted you for so long…” He whispers in your ear. “Wanted you this whole time.” Fuck, he was going to kill you.

Din presses sloppy kisses into the crook of your neck, leading up to your jaw. His hands stretch under the hemline of your shirt, his fingertips gliding across your stomach and towards the edge of your bra. You shudder as he reaches underneath, slowly inching towards your chest.

Something was changing within him, and that something was you. You made him want to throw his Creed away, to ignore all he had been taught his entire life. How could you ever possibly be something he shouldn’t have? He needed you.

More than anything. And you needed him.

“Please,” You beg. “I need you Din, please.”

And just like that, something within him finally switched.

“Open your eyes, cyare,” He’s so quiet you almost miss it. His fingers dip underneath your bra, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly before doing the same to the other. “’Want you to look at me when I make you come.”

Panic rises to your chest. “W-what, are you sure? What about the Creed, what about-,”

“It doesn’t matter, not if it means I can’t have you.”

You wait a moment, giving him time to change his mind, but he doesn’t. You let your eyes flutter open, his curly hair and brown eyes flooding your vision. And Maker, there’s that smile, the smile you’d only heard through laughs and sarcastic, snide quips. You swear your heart skips a beat, maybe even two. He was perfect. Of course he was fucking perfect.

“You’re beautiful,” You whisper, your hands finding their way to his cheeks, his neck, your fingertips carefully running over his lips. His forehead rests down on yours, his eyes closing softly, reveling in the intimacy.

Din lifts himself off you and makes his way down your body, settling in between your legs. His fingers hook the waistline of your pants, tugging them down and throwing them somewhere in the hull. He feels your core through your soaked panties.

“So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” He coos, practically ripping your panties as he pulls them down your legs. “Need to taste you.”

“F-fuck, Din,” You breathe sharply as his tongue laps at your clit, your hips lifting off the mattress. Din presses an arm across your hips, keeping you down against the cot, his free hand spreading your slick, teasing your entrance.

“’Tastes so good,” He rasps, his voice vibrating deliciously against your core. “Doing so good for me sweet girl.”

His mouth sucks harshly at your clit, taking the small bundle of nerves into his mouth, lapping at you like he was starving. You wanted more, needed more.

“N-need you, Din,” You whine, your hips fighting against the arm that held you down. He pushes you down further into the mattress, his mouth pressing even deeper onto your core.

“Not done with you yet,” He grunts, pushing two fingers into your entrance, pumping in and out, fast and hard. You could feel yourself growing closer with each thrust.

You moan his name like it’s a prayer, and in this moment it is. “Din, please, I, just…” But you can’t finish your sentence. It’s all too much, his fingers, his tongue, his voice, him. He was everywhere and everything all at once. And yet you needed more.

“Use your words, sweet girl,” He says patiently, nonchalantly.

“I want…” Your words fail again. “I…need you to f-fuck me, please.”

But he doesn’t stop, he keeps going. “I said I wasn’t done with you yet.” You could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, teetering just on the edge.

“I’m so close,” You pant in between ragged breaths.

And then, abruptly, he pulls away, leaving you cold and empty. Before you can even think to sit up or reach out for him, he was back, his hips resting against yours, his pants and armor now somewhere scattered to the side. You could feel his cock throbbing against your inner thighs. He lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you.

“Din,” You whimper. “Plea-,”

He buries himself inside you, cutting you off, stretching you out. “So fucking tight,” He praises, pulling all the way out before thrusting back into you, filling you up again. “So soft, so perfect.” His fingers find your clit, circling the nerves roughly.

His forehead rests on your own as his left-hand searches for your right one. His fingers intertwine with yours just above your head, keeping you from drowning, cementing you there with him. It all feels so good, each pump, each circle at your clit. You can feel your walls clenching around him.

“Taking me so well,” He soothes, rocking into you. “Such a good girl.” It was all too much, his words, his cock.

“I-I’m gonna-,” You choke, white heat flooding your vision. You know Din isn’t far behind, his hips stuttering against yours.

“Come for me, sweet girl, that’s it,” Din moans, sending you over the edge. You feel yourself shattering underneath him, falling apart into a million pieces, only to be put back together again. His name slips off your tongue as he comes inside you.

His hips roll slowly against yours, gently rocking into you a few more times before pulling out.

He shifts a bit so that you can comfortably lay on his chest. After all that, there’s only one thing you can think about.

“You wouldn’t be able to live without me?”

You look up at Din. His smirk stretches into a smile. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I wouldn’t, no.” He says it so matter-of-factly, so simply, as if it was common knowledge. “I need you. I always have.”

“I need you too.” He was the only person you had ever needed, the only exception. You didn’t need to tell him. He knew. Always has, always will.

You are the only exception

And I'm on my way to believing

Oh, and I'm on my way to believing

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darkbluekies · 6 months ago

Text

The origin of the ocs

Silas Achilleos:

I have always loved to write and read mafia fics. I wrote them before I wrote fanfiction, during fanfiction and now. When I created this account, I wanted a mafia man who's main characteristic was that he was kinky. I didn't like the ones I had read about that bent their partner over their lap for every little thing and that their entire relationship was built on sex. I wanted someone that felt human. So i made him in November 2022.

Silas name comes from a store I used to walk by all the time. I have no recollection of knowing about the name before I saw that store, so unconsiously the name must have come from there. I liked it because it was a name I hadn't been familiar with and I could "mold" the name to whatever I wanted, i had no connection to a certain person. I could make my own. His surname, Achilleos, was chosen because it reminded me of the character "achilles" and how he was untouchable besides one part of his body. Like this, i wanted darling to be Silas "achilles heel".

Silas personality comes from my want of something different. I wanted some humor, some drama, some weak spot. I made him childish, hypocritical, emotional. I didn't want him to be 2d.

Dr Karl Kry:

I have always loved the atmosphere of hospitals. I don't know why. They almost give me "backroom" vibes. I thought that it could be interesting to try to write about a doctor even though I have no medical knowledge. I have always loved to write characters that are weak and dependent on someone, which would work perfectly if I created a doctor. I created him in December 2022.

Dr Karl Kry's name comes from swedish. "Karl" means "man" and "Kry" means the opposite of being sick (not sure if english has the exact word). I thought that it could be fun if a doctor had that surname because only swedes/nordics would be able to get that little joke.

His personality is a bit of a mixture between the sterotypical swede and an opposite to what you think a doctor should be like. He's cold, quiet, doesn't like touch and is very modest while still being very professional and "sweet". He is quite old fashioned and carries traits that were normal then.

King Edmund of Vesanus

He wasn't supposed to be a character. I had gotten inspired to write the "Masquarade massacre/dance with death" oneshot because of a music video i used to watch when i was a kid (Eric Saade: Masquarade) and i wrote the oneshot in January 2023. It quickly became my most liked story so I decided to add him to the characters.

Edmund's name was originally Edward, but I have a character in one of my private novels with the same name and I thought that it would be weird for me if I named them the same thing. I decided to use a similar name and I decided upon Edmund. It sounded like it could belong to a royal. His kingdom "Vesanus" is in latin and means "mad/insane/frenzied" and I thoght that fit him extremely well.

His personality comes from the stereotypical spoiled king imagine, but I also wanted to make him ... human? He is a teenage boy who doesn't know who he is and only knows that he is the crown. He is lost and I think that shows. Edmund is ignorant, spoiled, rude and yet teasing, humorous, childish and caring.

Jerry (Yubin) Kim:

My first girl. She was created as a side character in a kpop mafia fanfiction i wrote back in 2020 and then reaccured in another kpop mafia fanfiction i wrote in 2021, although she was not a yandere back then. I loved her character and knew that I had to add her here.

Her name is special, to me. I don't remember why I named her Jerry, all I know is that I wanted a male name for a girl, and Jerry is a boy name that also feel like a girls name. That is the name she goes by, but her birth name is Yubin, although she doesn't go by that anymore. Her surname is a popular surname in korean, so that doesn't have much behind it.

Her personality is a rollercoaster. When I created her back in 2020, she was a bit different to what she is now. She was much happier, joked a lot, didn't have much darkness in her. She was pretty flat. Now that she's here, she has evolved into a much more human like character, much more rounded. She is a pretender. She feels one thing but pretends to feel different. All her joking persona isn't all real, she is pretty emotional. Jerry has many layers and many emotions she can't understand, she feels a lot of guilt, fear, love and hate, but presents a careless, joking girl to everyone else.

Hedwig Carter:

Hedwig is a character that was evolved from another character I was writing. In the beginning of this account, i tried out different kinds of characters to find the ones I wanted. I was writing a "quiet kid" yandere oneshot because I wanted this typical yandere setting, aka being in school. But I didn't like the character, I already had men (kry and silas) and I wanted it to feel like yandere simulator, so I scrapped that oneshot and created a girl. She wasn't supposed to be rich, but I decided to add it to have more to work with. I created her out on an evening walk in January 2023.

I don't like when characters who are supposed to be "normal" have "non-normal" names. I cannot imagine a girl who goes to school like everyone else having a name like "elowen", "amethyst" etc. i want the name to fit the situation and feel natural. Hedwig is one of those names. It feels wealthy, yet natural. It is distinctive, yet normal. The name Carter came to me when playing the game "titanic adventure out of time" when you have to go down to the cargo and the steward are like "YOURE A CARTER!!!" because the Carters owned the car that was on board the ship and a car in 1912 was expensive and etc. The name just stuck with me and felt like old money wealth, which she is.

Hedwig's personality is meant to be the opposite to Jerry, but they are quite alike too. Hedwig is sweet, innocent and loving. She doesn't like being mean. I wanted a rich popular girl that wasn't rude, entitled or a mean girl. Hedwig has a hard time controlling her emotions and can easily become "hysteric". I wanted an opposite to what's usually done - the rich popular girl is the one obsessed with someone instead of the other way around.

#yandere ocs

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pinkslaystation · 3 months ago

Note

OMG I JUST HAD A THOIGHT. What if like on this fic that you wrote “tulips or roses”, what if Rose and reader met?!?!

PLSPLSPLSPLS MAKE IT ANGSTY TO FLUFF TOO 🙏🙏🙏🙏

AMAZING THOUGHT POOKIE I WAS THINKING THE SAME >_< also i'm on holiday rn visiting family so ofc the wifi decides to the shittiest rn so apologies for slow uploads and errors :( and tags aren't working??? Word Count: 2k

Tulips meets Roses.

It was a Friday evening at the pub, where you sat beside John Price, your arms interlinked with his clenched bicep listening to another one of Johnny's story.

"'n' th' mornin' efter we shagged, she juist vanished! Efter a' th' love we made?"

Ghost grunts in mock sympathy, and Gaz stifles a scoff next to him, "She probably got scared of your haunted puppet collection mate-"

"Oh ye leave Bonnybelle oot o' this-"

These outings weren't as frequent as one would hope, considering how busy the Task Force usually was, but when there was a break with the missions, most of the soldiers found themselves at the hustle and bustle of the local pub, and it made it better when you could bring a plus one.

It's been a few months since the 'argument' about Rose, and even though John likes to name it a 'dispute', he's drilled it into your head how it was his fault completely not yours.

"Yeah well, me and my girl visited Bali for our anniversary-" Kyle boasts to the group.

"Yeah 'n' Simon gaed tae Croydon wi' his grandma, sae whit." [to all my non-londoners, Croydon is THE GHETTO. always in support of croydon slander]

John snickers, and you smile as the feelings of his arms encapsulating you. "You'll find someone one day, Johnny, I know it." You smile sloppily, partially tipsy from all the alcohol consumed and partially from all the sweet talk.

"Aye ah better, a'm wantin' th' Tulip tae mah Price."

Ah, turns out John's been calling you Tulip to everyone.

"She's limited edition, find your own fuckin' flower." John comically dismisses, taking a hefty sip of his beer, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

Your smile at the compliment is cut short when a blonde bob catches your peripheral, and just as you're about to turn your head to catch the face you're looking at-

"Is your garden in bloom?" Simon casually questions.

The table immediately erupts in coughs and laughter, with Gaz side-eyeing Simon's question, and Johnny laughing at the clever Bridgerton reference. John corrects his posture at the comment and covers his cough with his fist, a light tinge of pink painting his pale bearded cheeks. He'll make sure Simon runs double the amount of laps during practice.

"And that's my cue..." You press a warm kiss against John's temples, before heading off to the women's bathroom, not blind to the 'awwws' and coos from Soap, and the "What does it mean? I only watched the sex scenes..." from Simon.

Walking to the women's bathroom, you yawn and stretch your tense back after sitting on the wooden chair at the bar for so long.

"Tired?"

You snort, "An understatement, I'm sleepy as fuck- Oh."

Locking eyes with the voice in the mirror, grounds you back to reality. The once fictitious woman you were most worried about stands next to you in the bathroom, returning your glance through a mirror.

You break the silence, feeling awkward at the tense scene, although you're unsure if she's feeling the same. Does she know who you are? Does she think of you as her replacement?

"Weather's nice." A terrible comment considering it mid November in England; the weather's far from nice, yet Rose chuckles. For a moment, you can see why John longed for this woman, from the way her skin creased around her mouth as she flashed you a grin through the reflection.

"It's nicer in Greece, moved a few years back." She smiles amicably.

You hum, nodding as if in agreement, even though you hadn't even set foot in a Mediterranean country, "When did you come back? To the UK?"

She looks up, recollecting the days, "Hmm, must been a week now, Greece is lovely, but the UK's home, you know?"

Once again you just nod, watching as she pulls out a red Dior lipstick and reapplies to her supple lips. Watching her intensely focus on her lips makes you question John once again, a wave of insecurity rushing through you like that previous time.

She's so much better than me... You think to yourself.

"How's he been then?"

There's a pause in your breath, your eyebrows raising slightly. Rose makes eye contact with you again through the mirror, and you're grateful that she doesn't turn to look at you physically, you're scared that you might pass out in nervousness.

"I- uh, who?" You manage to blurt out, mentally cursing yourself for what you think sounded like a helium-produced high pitched squeak.

Rose chuckles at your response, "John Price. I see the way he looks at you, you been dating him for long?"

You purse your lips into a thin smile, even after years of dating and marriage, any compliment given to the both of you would send your heart to a warm frenzy.

"Been together for 4 years, married for 1..." Your smile in inevitably giddy as you admire the glittering rock plastered on your ring finger. Rose looks at your ring, her smile faltering a little, but you don't notice it in time.

"And you?"

"Me?" She straightens her posture, and even her mannerisms reflect that of your husbands a bit, "A few years of marriage...it's...nice." But it sounds like she's trying to convince herself more so than answering your question.

Your response is again, a shy nod.

Silence evades the conversation as she closes her lipstick delicately, placing it back into her expensive purse. You want to press the conversation further, beg her for more answers about the history that she might have had with John, you wanted to hear it from her perspective.

"I loved him you know."

Oh.

The world stops for a moment, and you feel the slow emergence of bile erupting from within. You're silent for moment, your thoughts halting. What kinda woman just announces that she had feeling for another's man...no, not just feelings...love.

Her reflection in the mirror breaks into small minuscule frames, as your eyes tear up. Not even a breath escapes from your mouth.

A droplet of sweat cascades down your back and you tremble at the thought of John kissing Rose.

"I...of course, realised too late. When we were celebrating my retirement, me and the team, I, uh...I was about to tell him...and I saw his phone screen...didn't know about you then, but it was a picture of you," She giggles at the memory, "Thought you must have been important 'cos that man's had that brick phone for years, and this is the first time I'd seen a different lockscreen."

You don't respond, unsure of whether to scream at her, calling her a homewrecker, or just to let her complete her speech. You realise she had used the past tense, loved. Did she still feel the same?

"And then I followed him back to his office...he was on the phone...to you. And oh my God. I swear I looked through the crack of his door, that guy was literally melting. Caught him twirling the invisible phone line and everything."

You can't suppress the tiny smirk on your face.

"And it was just a mundane conversation, nothing special...and it looked like he would kill the task force, just to have a spec of your attention on him. I've...never seen him this way, not even with me..." She whispers the last part, looking down at the droplets of water on the porcelain sink.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding, I guess I just came here to get closure-"

"Did you get it?"

The first you've said in minutes, and the tone was so gruff, one would think you were berating her.

She nods, still smiling, and for a second you wonder how strong this woman would have been, flying all the way back, just to see someone she'd harboured feelings with another.

"And even if I hadn't, I wouldn't do anything to either of you...forgive me, I'm not like that."

You nod, intaking some air after what felt like hours. You force yourself to turn your body towards her, a question still stuck in your head, urging to be answered.

"Rose." You whisper. She looks at you with a sweet smile, and for a second you feel bad for even thinking such inhumane thoughts about her.

"Do you still love him?" It was short and curt, no hesitation in your question, which did sound somewhat more like a command.

She looks at her reflection in the mirror, as if assessing her flaws and imperfections. There's another uncomfortable pause in the atmosphere, and it feels like the two of you have sucked a breath in anticipation.

The truth is...she doesn't know. What even is love? Is it measurable? Is it subjective, objective, definite, is it yes or no? Are there layers to love? Can you love two people at the same time? Has she ever felt love?

Does she still love John?

Did she ever love John?

Did John ever love...her?

She thinks back to when she walked into the bar, her eyes searching for the bearded captain, only to see them locked on...you.

Oh the way he looked at you. It reminded her of a loyal dog watching upon his master, like a peasant being granted a sip of golden delicious nectar for the first time. Like the way the moon orbits the Earth indefinitely, following Mother Earth on her orbital path.

Like the way a wounded man would rest in his knees painfully, praying for his Goddess to notice at least one his pleas, as he weeps for her.

It was a look she never gave to him, and one he never gave to her. That look, he had only reserved for ... you.

"No, I suppose not, not the way he loves you." It comes out in a pained whisper, and Rose can't tell if she wanted to go back in time to have John all to herself or if she believes that she would ever experience that kind of connection with him.

You hum, it felt like your voice box was strained every time you responded, but you felt at peace, finally.

How long have been in the bathroom for?

Run along now, John's probably looking for you.

You hug Rose, and you can tell she's not used to physical touch, the way her tall frame freezes at the contact. She smiles to you, silently apologising for her burdensome self.

You leave the bathroom, with a smile bigger than you had ever worn.

Soap's points towards you, at the table, and the others smile, John immediately whisking his head so quickly, you fear he might have pulled a muscle.

"Hey baby," you whisper into his hair, sitting down next to him, with his arm around you, where you belong.

"Jesus, sweetheart, 'was about to go to the bathroom m'self to look for you..." He mumbles, pressing his soft lips against your temple, purposely brushing his beard against your cheek.

You hum, as he presses fluttering kisses against your neck, whispering all kinds of affectionate names, oblivious to the fact that Ghost was already submitting a letter of compliant for excess PDA.

Rose shortly leaves, exiting the pub, her eyes falling on John's blushed cheeks burying into your hair, as she opens the door.

He turns to her, feeling someone looking at her, but instead of freaking out, he just smiles, acknowledging her presence, and quickly shoving his cheek against yours.

Tulips truly were his favourite flowers.

"SHE GAED TAE TH' BATHROOM 'N' DINNAE WASH HER HAUNDS"

tag yourself, i'm gaz's wife 😹 tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply-blog, @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @chessecakelover , @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyysho3es, @delta98-idk , @spankmydepression , @yourfavbabigirl

#captain john price if you see this come home NEOWWWWW #call of duty #cod #call of duty modern warfare #john price #captain john price #john price x reader #john x reader #john price angst #price x reader #captain price

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spiderlilyserendipity · 6 months ago

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Responsibility 🔞🖤

**Minors DNI! This is content for adults only! To read my SFW works, please see my masterlist.**

Summary: You’ve always had a hard time asking for help when you need it, and it doesn’t seem to get better as time goes by. Luckily for you, Hoseok knows you well enough to know when you need pampering.

Tags: Dom!Hoseok, Sub!Y/N, minimal plot, established relationship, dollification, safe words established, she calls him owner, PRAISE!!!!!, nonverbal sub space, oral (m. recieving), multiple orgasms (f. recieving), breeding kink (I didn't even mean to put it in this fic I swear but I can't fucking stop myself anymore send help), aftercare!!!, light angst (oopsie ✨), fluff at the end.

Warnings: Unprotected sex (don’t do that obviously lol)

W/C: 3970 (3.9K)

A/N: Hello everyone!! Sorry I disappeared once again, I just realized the last time I posted here was in NOVEMBER???? For the amount of BTS x Y/N writing I do it doesn't add up... I have been in a veryyyy big writer’s slump ALTHOUGH I have made some really good progress with a bigger series I hope to get out to you guys soon! These last few weeks have been a bit rough for me, so here is something a bit chiller with my beloved Dom!Hoseok x Y/N.

You’re in one of those moods again where everything feels too much.

It’s not necessarily your fault, but you’ve always had a hard time asking for help when you need it, and it doesn’t seem to get better as time goes by. You’ve known this about yourself for a long time, but you can’t help but get trapped in it.

It starts for you with a big project at work. You only volunteered to help out because no one else did, and it led to you being given more responsibility than your payroll even calls for. Initially, you tried to back out of it and make excuses, but your boss pushed forward with his own agenda and you never could. Now, you’re stuck doing work that isn’t really even yours without extra pay and with significantly more stress.

You’ve regretted it since the start, but you thought you’d be fine until today.

Today, you made a small mistake and your boss chewed you out for it in front of everyone. It wasn’t even a big deal, but your boss was in a bad mood to begin with and you just happened to be the person in the line of fire. But that small incident flared up something inside you��a deeply rooted fear of not being good enough.

And now, you find yourself plummeting down a rabbit hole of negative self-talk that really has nothing to do with work or anyone else. It has to do with you.

“What are you doing spacing out?” Hoseok’s laugh jolts you out of your thoughts. You look away from the TV, where your boyfriend is smiling warmly down at you. “Had a long day at work?”

You purse your lips. You don’t really want to get into it. It’s a bad habit, but you don’t like to drag Hoseok into your negativity. He has enough stress at his own job. “No, just tired.” You lie, getting off the couch.

“Y/N.” Hoseok says your name, wrapping a hand around your wrist. His voice is low, worried. You avoid his eyes. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I’m just tired.” You lie again, but you know Hoseok can see right through you. Of course he can, after all these years together.

You take a quick shower in the ensuite bathroom of your shared bedroom, then step out and run yourself a bath as a treat after a long day. You smile to yourself at the array of different bath bombs Hoseok keeps stocked for you, picking out one with a candy-like scent for tonight.

You drop the bath bomb in the water, watching it fizz and turn the water a shimmery baby pink. You step back in, sinking down into the hot water with a sigh. It’s not enough to take away the negative thoughts in your head, but it does take the edge off.

You’re almost dozing off in the bath when the bathroom door opens. Hoseok steps inside, then closes the door behind him. “That smells so good.” He comments, taking a seat on the closed toilet lid beside you.

You smile. “Yeah.”

The air is still slightly tense between you. Hoseok watches your face for a moment, then smiles. “This scent is nice, isn’t it? I’m glad I listened to the salesperson.” He asks, rolling up his sleeves. You wonder what he’s doing when he leans in and begins to massage your shoulders. “You’re too tense, though.” He comments under his breath.

You look away. With one small touch, Hoseok breaks down your walls. “Don’t deserve it.” You mumble.

“Don’t deserve what, sweetheart?” Hoseok asks gently, his thumbs now working into the dips of your collarbone.

You shake your head, feeling overwhelmed. “Everything. Don’t deserve your touch.”

“Is that so?” Hoseok asks in a low, patient voice that sends heat to your core. You know exactly what he’s doing, and although you want it, you can’t let yourself have it. You try to push away, to reach for the tub’s stopper and drain the bath away. But Hoseok stops you with a firm hand over your wrist. “I’m not done yet, sweetheart.” He warns you gently, pushing you back against the tub.

Hoseok’s eyes flicker down to your cleavage, but he doesn’t touch you there yet. He can still see the hesitance in your eyes, the self-doubt that makes you fear submission to him. “It seems like you have a lot of thoughts in your head right now. Would you like me to give you a break, to let me do all the thinking? And you get to relax, just like a pretty little doll?” He purrs, causing you to rub your thighs together.

In the low light, Hoseok’s eyes glint with satisfaction at the effect his words have on you. “Oh, you would like that. Unfortunately I need to hear a special word before I can do that. Does my pretty girl remember what that word is?”

“Candy.” You murmur.

Hoseok beams, running a hand through your hair. “Good girl.” He emphasizes, making the fire in your belly burn brighter. “What a gorgeous doll I own.”

You gasp softly as Hoseok’s hands move down to cup your breasts, toying with your nipples. “Owner.” You whisper.

“Yes, doll?” Hoseok replies easily, continuing to rub the now-hard nubs.

“It’s cold.” You whisper. By now, the hot water has become lukewarm and you’re starting to get chilly. Hoseok hums, leaning in to kiss your breasts.

“Is that right?” He coos at you. His hands move down your torso, then part your thighs. You whimper as Hoseok plays with your clit, then drags a finger along your entrance. “Hmm…Feels nice and warm here though.” Hoseok makes an expression of fake-confusion, then slides a finger inside. You whine, gripping his forearm with both of your hands.

Hoseok chuckles, then kisses your forehead. He cups your mound, looking directly at you as he does it. “I don’t think I want to get my clothes wet. Let’s get you up and dressed.”

With that, Hoseok pulls the stopper. You watch the water drain down, until you’re left sitting in the empty tub. Hoseok stands, then puts a hand under your chin, guiding you to stand. His eyes move down your naked body, full of controlled lust. He has you step out of the tub, then picks a towel off the shelf. “So wet.” He chides, taking your hand in his and drying each finger diligently. You watch him as he carefully works his way up your arm, then dries your armpit for you. He repeats the motion on the other side.

Then, Hoseok pushes your chin up, expecting you to look up. You obey. He dries off your neck, then your collarbones. You whine as he takes his time with your breasts, thumbing at them through the towel. “So, so wet.” Hoseok chides, then pinches one nipple. “This is why pretty things like you are hard work. If owner forgets to take good care of you, you become so messy. Isn’t that right, doll?”

“Yes, owner.” You murmur.

Hoseok lightly guides your chin down, allowing you to look at him again. “But messy girls are fun, too, because then owner has fun cleaning you and setting you straight.” He says, forcing your thighs apart to dry off your inner thighs. You purse your lips as he takes his sweet time drying your thighs and calves. Hoseok smiles up at you as he wipes off your feet. “It’s been so long since I got you a mani-pedi. I should do that, then take you out and get you some outfits. We can stop by a jewellery store, too. TIffany’s? No, maybe Cartier would be better.”

You listen quietly as Hoseok talks to himself, appraising your body as he does. You’re not meant to voice your opinion for things like this—you’re meant to take what he gives you. You let Hoseok turn you around, then begin wiping down your back. It’s mindless, but that’s the point. To submit, to gratefully take what you’re given. But you can’t help the nagging voice in your mind. “Don’t deserve it.” You mumble. Hoseok’s hands pause.

Hoseok scoffs. “How can a doll know what their worth is? What, are you some kind of AI?” He comments, continuing to work at you.

“Deserve punishment.” You mumble. “I’m bad.”

Hoseok hums as if he agrees, then puts a hand on your ass. You flinch and he notices. “Do you think I’d play with a bad doll?” Hoseok whispers, his voice dangerous in your ear.

You answer immediately. “No, owner.”

“That’s right!” He says cheerfully, turning you back around. Taking your face in one hand, Hoseok grins at you, but warning flashes in his eyes. “My doll doesn’t get punished. My doll is a good girl who listens and takes what I give her. Has owner been slacking in pampering his doll that she’s forgotten who she belongs to?”

“No, owner.” You repeat.

Hoseok looks displeased. You feel the urge to cry, hating his displeasure. You want to be good, but you don’t feel good enough!

Hoseok takes your hand and guides you into the ensuite closet. Still naked, you stand with your hands clasped as Hoseok (still fully dressed) opens a bag at the back of the closet, one you’ve never seen before. He pulls out two pieces of lingerie—one is a simple pair of white silk panties, and the other is a white, translucent babydoll with a small white bow in the middle. Without asking if you like it, Hoseok comes over to you and lifts you up onto the island in the closet. He puts the panties on you first, then the top. “So pretty.” He says, then rubs your cheek proudly. You preen at his touch.

Hoseok brings you to the bedroom next, sitting you down in front of your vanity. He hums to himself as he picks up your comb and brushes your hair. He decides to do a French braid tonight, then ties it in place with a little bow hair tie at the bottom. You both know it won’t look like that soon. “Such a pretty thing.” He praises you, eyes boring on you in the mirror. He taps your lips once, and you open your mouth. Hoseok spits in your mouth, then settles a hand on your throat. “Swallow.” He orders, then beams as he feels your throat bob from swallowing.

The dom reaches between your legs again, moving aside your underwear as he slips a finger into you again. By now, you’re much wetter. Hoseok laughs, then holds your face in one hand, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror. You watch your own helpless face as your dom fingers you with amusement on his face. “So weak. Is this all you can take?”

“Owner, owner—” You whimper, putting a hand on Hoseok’s arm as he slips another finger inside.

“What, now you remember who owns you?” Hoseok asks, reaching down with his free hand to rub at your clit. He laughs at your fucked out face. “Dolls can’t come without permission. You should know that by now, sweetheart.”

“Owner, please, please let me come, please—” You plead.

“Five. Four.” Hoseok counts you down. You bite your lip, trying to hold back. “Three, two, one, now.”

Your whole body shakes as Hoseok works you through your orgasm. You feel come drip out of you, wetting your panties and the chair underneath you. But you don’t care at all, not with Hoseok murmuring praises in your ear. “What an obedient little cunt, just like I trained you. It’s like you were made to belong to me.”

You whine. Hoseok has you stand up, turning you half-sideways. You look in the mirror as the dom runs his clean hand down your hair gently, then rubs both hands over your hips. You breathe in sharply as you meet Hoseok’s eyes. He smirks, then digs his hands into your asscheeks, slightly spreading you. “What a messy girl. Only took two fingers and you’re all shiny down here.” He laughs, running a finger over your inner thigh, where your pre-come coats the skin.

“Owner.” You mumble against Hoseok’s collarbone.

He beams. “Yes, my doll?”

You both know what you want, but you can’t bring yourself to ask for it. It’s not your place to ask him to fuck you, since you’re meant to let him do as he pleases. So instead, you just press yourself in against him, placing your cheek against his collarbone. Hoseok knows what you mean without saying it. He presses a kiss to your hair, then presents his left hand—still covered by your juices—to your mouth and sticks his thumb in. You suck obediently, looking directly at your dom. “Such a useful mouth.” He purrs. You let out a small sound at his praise. Hoseok withdraws his thumb, then switches to give you his index and middle fingers. As you do that, the dom meticulously straightens your hair, ensuring not a hair is out of place. Finally, he gives you his ring and pinky finger to lick. You don’t miss the emerald and diamond ring on his ring finger—ensuring to get your juices out of every crevice around the ring. Hoseok’s jaw tightens at the sight.

The dom intertwines your hands, then brings you over to the bed. Using his free hand, he pulls back the covers, then guides you under. You watch Hoseok grab the TV remotes and return. You glance at the hard member in Hoseok’s pants as he sits in bed next to you. Knowing what you’re thinking, Hoseok pulls his pants and underwear down in one go—revealing the hard, leaking member. “I wonder if that movie is out yet…” Hoseok says to no one in particular, pretending to be interested in finding some movie. Without saying a word, Hoseok entangles a hand in your hair, guiding you down toward his member under the covers. Your breath sharpens at the feeling of being used to pleasure him as he watches a movie, just a little thing for him to control.

You start to lick from your position at his side, but Hoseok frowns at you. Your eyes widen. Have you done something wrong? “Hmm…” He says, then reaches down and hooks a finger into the hip part of your panties. Using them, he pulls you down so you’re sitting on his calves. He lets go, then returns the hand to your hair. For added effect, he tucks the covers in around you, leaving just your head up for you to suck him off. You whimper, loving the feeling. You’re his toy, his doll.

You begin sucking Hoseok off, doing your absolute best to please him as you work at him with your mouth and cup his balls with your hands. Hoseok runs a hand through your hair gently, idly, like he’s barely paying attention when you know he couldn’t care less about what’s on screen. Even like this, you know you’re his priority.

You lick the slit of his member and Hoseok hisses. “Oh, that’s it.” He praises you, tightening the hand in your hair slightly. “What a good girl. So useful.”

You moan, accidentally pressing yourself down against his calf. Hoseok notices immediately. “Is my doll getting restless? Is me playing with your mouth not enough?”

“No, owner. I-I’m grateful.” You protest weakly.

Hoseok’s eyes glint dangerously. “Yeah? Then why are you rubbing yourself against my leg like a puppy in heat?” He sits you up, bringing you onto his lap. You purse your lips as Hoseok feels how wet you are again with his hand. “Good girls don’t hide their feelings, sweetheart. You know that.”

“Yes, owner.” You say, looking at him through your lashes.

Hoseok tsks. He slots his thigh between your legs. You sigh as he pushes up against you, loving the feeling of his hot skin against your aching clit. “If it feels good, you need to show me, sweetheart. Now, look at me and show me how good it feels. And don’t look away.” He orders. You swallow. Hoseok settles a hand to the back of your neck, holding you firmly. You slowly begin rubbing yourself against his thigh, looking directly at your dom. Hoseok watches you intently, ignoring the movie playing in the background. The lust in his eyes is illuminated by the changing colours from the screen.

Your desperation mounts embarrassingly fast with Hoseok watching you rub yourself against him. Knowing that, Hoseok taps your chin, indicating for you to open your mouth. You take his thumb in your mouth, sucking as best as you can but you’re not consistent—the seal you form around his thumb is broken all too often by the moans and sighs you let out. Hoseok smirks at that, knowing you can’t handle it. “Suck properly.” He orders. You swallow, then wrap your lips properly around his thumb. “That’s it. Who’s my good little slut?” Hoseok asks.

You whine, grinding faster. “Is it you?” He teases. “Hmm…I thought my doll knew how to come when I told her though. Let’s see. Come now.”

With a single order, you get your release. Your whole body shakes, and Hoseok pulls you in close. He wraps his arms around you, using one hand to cup the back of your head as you shake from your orgasm. “So obedient. Just like I trained you. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, thank you.” You chant, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You’re almost crying at this point, feeling so taken care of and loved. “So grateful. Thank you, owner.”

Hoseok pulls back slightly, cupping your face in both of his hands. He kisses you, slow and passionate. “Can you handle more, baby?”

“Yes, owner.” You answer, feeling soft. Hoseok’s eyes sparkle. He knows that tone of your voice. You’re slipping further and further into your sub space, and it won’t be long until it’s hard for words to come out altogether. But Hoseok knows your body and your limits. He’ll give you exactly what he knows you can take.

“Go get your plug.” He orders. You crawl to the other side of the bed, reaching into the nightstand. Although the two of you have various toys, you know he means the small toy shaped like a teardrop with a little gem at the flared end. You bring it to him, presenting it with both hands. Hoseok takes it, then guides you to lay down. You lay back, feeling loved and safe. Hoseok will take care of you. He always does. Hoseok leans over you. “Show me your colours.” He says, knowing words are starting to slip away from you already. You squeeze Hoseok’s shoulder once to indicate green, twice for yellow, and three times for red. Hoseok kisses your forehead in praise. “What’s your colour right now?”

You squeeze once. “Such a good listener.” He praises you. He checks you’re ready, then slowly slides into you. You pant as he bottoms out, feeling full.

“O-Owner.” Your voice comes out weak. “P-Please.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Hoseok reassures you. He allows you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. “I’ll take good care of you. Fill your womb with my seed.”

You clench around him. “P-Please.” Then, you whine into his ear. “B-Breed me, owner.”

Hoseok growls, planting his hands on either side of your waist. He begins to move slowly, but you know he’s holding himself back for you. “Yeah?” He asks. “Want me to get you pregnant, sweetheart? Take care of you, take responsibility?”

You moan at the idea of being safe and taken care of. For someone who always pushes herself too far, you know deep down you’d love that. And Hoseok knows it, too, even if you don’t know how to ask for it. He knows you. Soon, Hoseok’s thrusts become faster and faster, knowing you’ve adjusted enough for him. Your moans become louder, and the nails you dig into Hoseok’s skin start to leave deeper indents. Soon, you’re arching your back. Hoseok’s own hips start to stutter. He reaches for your hair, tangling a firm hand in it. You sigh happily at his firmness. “Almost there, sweetheart.” Hoseok promises, reaching down to rub your clit. “You can do it, baby. Ready? 3…2…1…Now.”

Your orgasm wracks through you again, making you shake a third time tonight. At the same time, hot seed fills you, making you feel insane with pleasure. Tears slip out of the corners of your eyes, landing on the pillow. Hoseok wipes your cheeks immediately, then pulls you in as he lays on top of you. You feel so safe with him both inside you and on top of you, sandwiched between him and the sheets.

“T-Thank you, thank you.” You repeat, digging your nails into Hoseok’s shoulders. “Thank you, owner. So grateful.”

“You’re welcome, baby.” Hoseok says, smiling at you. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back. Even though he doesn’t say it, you see the relief in Hoseok’s eyes as you finally smile sincerely tonight. You lay there for some time and catch your breath. You kiss and hold one another, feeling comfortable. Then, Hoseok slowly slides out of you. You shiver as the seed begins to slip out of you, but Hoseok guides it back in with the plug. You clench around it, feeling pleased. “That’s my girl. So proud of you, sweetheart.”

You lay peacefully as Hoseok gets up, leaving the room momentarily. He returns with a glass of water and two granola bars for you. You’re still quite far into your sub space, so words are a bit difficult for you right now. Knowing that, Hoseok just quietly helps you sit up and feeds you your snack. Once you’re done, he carefully helps you drink the water.

“Should we shower now?” Hoseok asks. You purse your lips, looking down at your intertwined hands. He laughs. “Okay. In twenty minutes then.”

You smile, letting Hoseok pull you back under the covers for some cuddles before shower time. “Sweetheart.” Hoseok says, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he spoons you. You hum. “Remember you don’t need to hide from me, okay? If anything is bothering you, you tell me. I won’t think you’re any less good at your job if you talk to me about it, I promise. And although I know you would never give up your passion, I want you to know you don’t have to work if you don’t want to.”

You blink, craning your head to look at your boyfriend. Hoseok (despite the blush on his face) looks resolute. “I’m not kidding when I say I’ll take responsibility for you. I really can take good care of you.”

You giggle. It feels like a proposal. “I know, Hoseokie.” You mumble, cuddling back against him. You sigh, closing your eyes against the pillow as Hoseok gently rubs a hand over your belly. “I love you.” You whisper.

“I love you too.” Hoseok presses another kiss in your hair. Just then, he glances at the clock. “Okay, twenty minutes over. Let’s go.” He says. You pout, but he just grins at you. “A deal’s a deal, baby. Come on, let me get you cleaned up so I can change the sheets.”

You pout, holding your arms up. Hoseok laughs, tipping his head back. “Actually, I change my mind. I don’t want such a spoiled wife.”

“Too bad.” You mumble with a smile as he scoops you up into his arms like a bride. By now, your headspace has worn off but you feel so soft and content. “You have to take responsibility for me.”

You and Hoseok laugh together as he carries you to the bathroom.

🖤🖤🖤

A/N: Thank you for reading! I'd like to thank the Academy and fucking 2022 Mama red carpet Hoseok for inspiring me to stay up and write this fic when I have work at 8 am (but just look at him AGHHHHHHHHH). Also, requests are open <333

#hoseok x reader #hoseok x y/n #hoseok x you #hoseok smut #hoseok fluff #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fluff

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putellasawfc · 11 months ago

Text

wrong hands !

mary earps x lioness!reader

(tw: this fic contains mentions of sexual assault, i promise it’s not anything too heavy but it is still there so please don’t read if this topic is triggering for you).

you rubbed your hands together in an attempt to accumulate some heat in your palms, hoping that in return the warmth would spread to the rest of your body and bring you some comfort from the freezing temperatures you had been stuck in for the past ninety-six minutes. albeit you had been playing in a very important game with your national team, so the chilly weather had been just a mere thought in the back of your mind whilst you focused on scoring goals with the help of your girls, but now that it was over, it was as if it was hitting you all at once.

you had finished hugging and shaking hands with the opposite team, sharing kind words with the occasional ‘good game’ or even a quick catch up with some of the players you had formed a friendship with over the years. next was the team huddle where sarina went over the highs and lows of the match, praising you all for winning the game and playing good as well as pointing out a few places where she thought you could’ve done better, though it was very brief as it always was after a match, the real talk would happen tomorrow just before you got training again for the next game.

now, you were engaging with the fans who had generously shown up in support of your team despite the november air cutting at their exposed skin like ice cold needles, they still stood with smiles on their faces. some of them held signs, whilst others held shirts they were wanting signed, and more held out their phones in hopes of getting a picture or two with some of the players. it was always heartwarming seeing how much support you had garnered over the recent years. not even just you as a person, not even your team, but women’s football as a whole had seen a large spike in interest lately and it was an amazing feeling.

when you had first began to play football, you played in small stadiums where most of the seats were empty, only a few hundred people showing up to show their interest in the sport if you were lucky. and although you would never take whatever kind of support you had for granted, there was always that side to you who would sit back and watch how easily men’s games filled with thousands and thousands of people eager to watch the ninety minute game, and it would be almost like a small kick in the teeth when you really thought about the difference.

but now, as the number on the board read 56,291 in attendance you couldn’t comprehend how much your passion had blown up over the world. and it wasn’t just other women who were showing their interest in the games, but men too. you knew how sensitive of a subject it was, men being interested in women’s football, it wasn’t something that was popular amongst them but you imagined their newfound support had something to do with the win your team brought home at the euros in 2022, they were finally taking you seriously.

you bent down a tad to take a picture with a young girl who couldn’t have been over the age of thirteen, she held her phone out in one hand and you leant in as close as you could with a gleaming smile on your face, staying in that position until she finished snapping a few pictures of the both of you. her arm lowered and she pulled back with a softer smile now.

“thank you so much!”

“you’re welcome”. you replied, sending her one last smile before you continued your way down the line, wanting to interact with as many people as you could before you were told you had to go back in.

you got another couple of pictures taken, signed a few t-shirts and even a phone case that a woman was adamant she wanted you to sign, and eventually gave away your shirt to a small girl who had asked you politely for it in the sweetest voice you had ever heard. you had folded instantly, disregarding the weather that you had been complaining about since the match ended in your head, your number one priority had now changed to making that little girls night.

finally feeling satisfied with the amount of people you had pleased tonight, you turned to leave, eager to get through the tunnels and under the hot shower. the quicker you were done with that the quicker you could return to your room for the night and get into your comfy pyjamas and cuddle with mary. speaking of, your eyes wandered to the goalkeeper who stood just a few feet away, chatting happily with rachel and georgia about god knows what but with the grins on their faces you could only imagine it wasn’t anything serious. just as you were about to make your way towards the trio, another phone was shoved in your face, quite rudely you thought, that had you pausing in your steps.

you looked to see a guy, who seemed to be just slightly older than yourself with a smug grin on his face as his eyes shamelessly wandered your england kit clad body. you frowned, instantly put off by his perverted demeanour, his actions making you take a step back.

“wouldn’t mind taking a quick picture would ya love?” his gruff voice sounded, and you glanced from him to the phone that was still held out infront of you.

you thought about it for moment, weighing out the pros and cons in your mind. it was only a quick photo, wouldn’t take more than a few seconds and then you could move on. it would definitely spare you any verbal abuse the man would no doubt spew out towards you if you refused the picture, and you’d avoid any negative backlash online if he or anyone present were to post about it and make you look like the bad guy.

so with a hesitant smile you nodded, “sure.”

you stayed a step away from the barrier separating you both but chose to lean in a little to get the picture, just wanting to get it over and done with as fast as possible. what you weren’t accounting for though, as you forced the most convincing smile onto your face, was the pressure you felt starting on your hip, before it slowly lowered to your behind. you frowned, not completely registering what the feeling was until you felt the grip tighten, and that’s when you jumped away in disgust.

the man didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed for what he had just done, still stood there with the smug look on his face as if he was proud that he had just squeezed your behind without consent - and that only angered you more.

“what the fuck? why would you do that?” you exclaimed, drawing the attention of a few people around you both.

the man furrowed his brows as if he was confused by your outburst, the realisation that he genuinely thought what he’d done wasn’t that big of a deal would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t in complete disbelief.

“chill out i barely touched you.” he grumbled, not happy with the amount of attention on the two of you now.

you scoffed, ready to lay in on him for the audacity he had to make it seem like you were overreacting, when a flash of green passed your peripheral vision and someone began doing it for you.

“does it make you feel like a big man grabbing women like that yeah?” the person in question focused in your line of sight, the number 1 with the name earps just above it alerting you of who it was.

you took a step towards your girlfriend, worrying about the close proximity between her and the man as she approached him with no hesitation, her body pressed against the only thing separating them so she could get as close as possible, something that distressed you slightly, there was no telling how unhinged this man actually was.

“mary don’t, just leave it.” you grabbed ahold of her upper arm with a gentle grip, “he’s not worth it.”

she ignored your attempt at redirecting her attention, and with the murderous glare she held towards the offender opposite you both, you knew she was not moving until she was satisfied.

“you’re scum mate.” she threw him a dirty look, “thinking you can go around behaving like that. it’s disgusting. you need to apologise to her.”

by now everyone’s eyes were on the three of you, more so mary than anyone else as they watched her anger levels rise. there were phones angled your way, no doubt recording every second so it could get posted to tiktok or twitter as soon as it was over, the thought making you more eager to deescalate the situation.

the man scoffed, now turning to look you up and down in disgust as if he wasn’t just eyeing you up like a piece of meat seconds prior, “i have nothing to be sorry for.”

mary breathed out a laugh, though it lacked humour and she rolled her neck in exasperation at the cowardly response. “stop showing off in front of your little mates, it doesn’t make you the big man you think it does.” she spat, and your grip increased on her arm as she pushed herself further into the metal barrier, closer to the man. “your just a prick who needs to learn how to respect women.”

“mary, come on let’s not start anything now.” your were more than grateful to hear sarina’s familiar dutch accent to the other side of mary, the older woman mirroring your actions as she laid a hand on the goalkeepers other arm.

you hadn’t even realised she was nearby, last you had seen her she was having a talk with the manager of the opposite team, and when you turned to look at her you noticed a few of the england girls were stood behind her too, the small group of them all sharing the same repulsed look on their faces.

“not until he says sorry. you can’t act like that and just get away with it, it’s not on.” she ranted, “you’re lucky there’s so many people around right now or else i’d be doing a lot more than saying a few words.”

the man seemed taken aback by that, the (what you thought was permanent at this point) smug expression finally fading as his jaw dropped slightly, you knew it was obvious not only to him but to everyone, that mary could do a lot of damage if given the chance, especially when it came to protecting the people she loved.

“just say sorry man. you know you’re in the wrong.” bright frowned, wanting nothing more than to share a few nasty words, but with so many cameras out now she knew it was best to keep it pg.

“god fine. i’m sorry. happy now?” the confidence in the man’s exterior had long faded, his face burning with what you could only assume was embarrassment with all the negative attention and you felt a sense of satisfaction at the quick 180.

it was obvious the apology had no genuine meaning behind it, he just wanted the whole situation that he had caused to be over with so he could run away and hide and hope that nobody had caught his face in the recordings. but it was all you were getting clearly, so without any further acknowledgment of him, you turned your back on him and focused all your attention on mary who didn’t seem to be pleased with the rushed words.

“come on babe, don’t let him ruin our night yeah? we won, we played well, no accidents or anything like that. it’s a good night, so let’s go and celebrate.” you grabbed her face gently and moved it so she was now eye level with you, and you watched as her blue eyes softened gradually.

with a heavy sigh and a nod of her head, you revelled in the win and wrapped a hand around her arm, gently pulling her away from the crowd. you didn’t miss the last hateful look she spared towards the man, before she turned and allowed you to lead her off without another word but you chose not to comment on it. you reassured the girls you were okay when a few of them asked, getting a few comforting shoulder squeezes and side hugs from them as you walked. and truly, though you were a little shaken up from the whole incident, you know that with mary by your side you would be okay.

“thank you for sticking up for me. i appreciate it.” you moved so you were standing infront of mary who had sat herself down at her cubicle once you made it back inside, your hands moving to pull her hair from the low ponytail it had been in since this afternoon.

once that was done you ran your fingers through her blonde strands, pulling out any knots that had been formed as gently as you could, smiling at the way her body slumped in relaxation at the sensation.

“no need to thank me love, i’d do it over and over again if i had to. people like that make me sick.” she grumbled, her eyes closing as she sank further into your soft motions.

“i know, but you got him told. think you scared him enough to put him off behaving like that for awhile at least.” you teased, recalling the way his face had paled at her threatening words.

she hummed at that, a smile finally emerging on her face. “yeah, he did look like he was about to wet himself didn’t he?”

the both of you shared a laugh, thankful that you could at least look back and find some humour in the situation that moments ago had you both fuming. her hands, now void of the gloves that warmed her palms throughout the game, found themselves resting on your hips, rubbing soothing circles through your football shorts in an attempt to convey the same coziness that she felt with having you so close by.

“think i should follow you around whilst you take your pictures with the fans from now on.” she spoke, and for a moment you thought she was joking until you saw the genuine glint in her eyes.

“really? i don’t think anything like this is gonna happen again darling, it’s never happened before.” you replied, making sure to be as reassuring as you could with your words.

“yeah i know, but i don’t think i’ll be able to relax if i’m not with you. it hasn’t happened before but it could happen again just as easily as it did tonight. just let me be with you.” she kissed your clothed stomach, “at least for a little while. i don’t know what i’d do if i let you wander off on your own and it ended up happening again.”

your heart warmed at your girlfriends protectiveness, though you never doubted that mary cared for you and your wellbeing immensely, having her confirm it out loud made you fall deeper in love with the woman who had stolen your heart almost two years ago now.

“how could i say no to this face?” you scrunched your nose and grabbed ahold of mary’s chin, moving her face back and forth as she rolled her eyes at your mildly childish behaviour.

“you can be my little shadow for the next few games. saves you walking round like a little lost puppy whilst you wait for me to finish, eh?”

her fingers dug into your hips at the dig and you jumped, squealing in surprise at the sudden motion. “mary!”

“you earned that, so cheeky you are. think you’ve been spending too much time with toone lately.” she shook her head, and you were relieved to have your playful girlfriend back.

“whatever you say earps. now come on.” you whined, dragging out the ‘n’ as you did. “let’s go back to the room. i want some love and some pizza, not really fussed about what order they come in.”

(i’m posting this from my phone so i’m hoping everything looks okay). 🤞🤞

#mary earps #woso #woso community #lionesses #england women #mary earps x reader #mary earps one shot #woso x reader #woso one shot #muwfc x reader #muwfc

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kingofbodyrolls · 11 months ago

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Seokjin fic recs 2023

In honor of Seokjin’s birthday, I want to share my favorite fanfictions that I’ve read this year. Although I did not read as many as I wanted to, the list will be short. But! I’ve leave my ‘to read’ list at the bottom to make up for it 💜I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (💜)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻.

⭐Knocked by @sailoryooons [10.6K] // ksj x f.reader // roommates to lovers // 🥵😂

📝 Living with people is difficult, but all things considered, your new roommate isn’t terrible. He cooks, he cleans, and if you had to be honest - incredibly attractive. But his habit of streaming until the early hours of the morning while yelling and making other questionable noises has pushed you to the limit. You’ve finally decided to risk your sanity and put it all on the line with a reckless bet in hopes of getting some peace and quiet at night.

🗨️ This was so hilarious, and the build up and pay-off was really good 👏

⭐Sleepover by @peachypinkygloss [7.3K] // ksj x f.reader x pjm // bestfriends!au, threesome // 🥵

📝 You spend a night with your two best friends at their dorm room. You should have known that they wanted to do more than just watching movies.

🗨️ Omg this was so good, the smut 😘🥵

⭐I Don’t Think I’m Okay by @ressjeon [4K] // ksj x f.reader // slice of life, idiots to lovers!au, childhood friends!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 With many chances wasted, you couldn’t even resist anymore.

🗨️ A cute little Seokjin fic 🥰

⭐The IKEA Test by @yoon-bug [9.1K] // ksj x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰😂

📝 One review on IKEA’s website called the BRIMNES bed frame the leading cause of divorce due to its difficult assembly. You and Seokjin had laughed when you read it. Now, you weren’t so sure.

🗨️ Their banter and all the sexual innuendos are damn hilarious! I thoroughly enjoyed this very much 💜

I’m really sad that I didn’t get to read more Seokjin fics 😭 I have a lot on my ‘to read’ list, so I’ll share some that I’m really excited to read when i have more time (and I know they’ll be great because they are written by amazing people!) ✨

‘To read’ list ⬇️

Fast Lane by @yminie [20.6K]

Cherry Topper by @kth1 [17.6K]

Final Sleigh by @floralseokjin [23.3K]

Stuck with you by @taleasnewastime [29.6K]

Small Tuna Fish by @floralseokjin [17.1K]

Off Limits by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Raspberry truffles by @gukyi [5K]

Christmas Warfare by @gimmethatagustd [14.5K]

9 Months to Fall in Love by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Redamancy by @jeonggukingdom [7.1K]

Sunday by @here2bbtstrash [5K]

Serve Me by @chateautae [16K]

Meet Me at the Bar by @eoieopda [7.5K]

Internal Conflicts by @yoongiofmine [series; completed]

Forever by @oddinary4bts [25.2K]

Thank you, Daddy by @ktheist [19K]

The Devil Wears Armani by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Glazed & Dazed by @floralseokjin [30.3K]

Wet & Wild by @jamaisjoons [10K]

Warm this Winter by @jamaisjoons [51.6K]

Peach Parfait by @jamaisjoons [series; completed]

Borderlines by @jamaisjoons [series; ongoing]

All I Don’t Want for Christmas is You! by @minisugakoobies [23.7K]

Cupid’s on Holiday by @persphonesorchid [17K]

Don’t Go Baking my Heart by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids [14.7K]

Platonic by @joheunsaram [series; completed??]

Last November by @kithtaehyung [24.7K]

Sit. Stay. by @daechwitatamic [14K]

Turn Back Time by @raplinesmoon [13.3K]

Made-up Love Song by @floralseokjin [series; completed]

Lost and Found by @taleasnewastime [21.2K]

I’m so sorry that I didn’t get to read more! 😭 Life happened, and yeah. But all of these wonderful fics on my list sound so incredibly good and I really look forward to reading them and give them a lovely review 💜

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEOKJIN!!! 💜 🥳 🎂

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alexxajay · 23 days ago

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🍸 What’s Your Poison?🍸

Hi, I’m Jay! Nice to meet you,honey🩷

• 23 years young

• March 20🌷Pisces Princess

• Somehow managing to work a big girl job in the real world of the USA

Just vibin’ & thrivin’ on my new little blog sharing my cute little ideas with cute little strangers.

(That’s you, babe. You’re the cute stranger💋)

*Hwang Hyunjin bias based!*

(But you’ll see me reblog all the boys!!)

Join me for Happy Hour Gossip!

I’m open to request or a chat if you’d like to giggle,rant,or cry with me!

*Request:fake text(predominately),drabbles,au prompts,etc(I have more time for shorter fics)

*I will not write member x member, incest/step siblings, taboo/hardcore themes, include the members’ real life family, and I will politely decline your request if it’s something I am not comfortable with writing or speaking on :)

*Stray Kids are real people & therefore everything below is completely fictional. This doesn’t reflect who they truly are in any way, shape, or form. I am not trying to misconstrue who they are in real life.

Don’t forget to touch grass,babe <3

✨Everyone’s welcome at Stay’s Bar✨

(especially my fellow Black stays🤎)

**MDNI & SFW Rules**

Minors(16+)are free to interact with my blog as long as you keep it cute & appropriate.

*SFW* Fics are safe for the younger stays and will usually only have profanity listed as a warning.

*MDNI* Fics are self explanatory and should not be interacted with unless you are 18+

Keep it cute or get blocked <3

Angst⛈️/🌩️; Fluff🧸; Smut/Suggestive🔥

FWB!Hyunjin Text Series 🧸⛈️🔥 (MDNI)

A late night text accidentally sent to one of the artist you’re working with leads to a half a year long agreement and Hyunjin wants more…

(fwb to lovers)

Before You Ruined My Outfit? 🌩️🧸 (SFW)

Han Jisung is your childhood best friend and his attempt at playing Cupid goes horribly wrong somehow thanks to Hyunjin…

Fix Your Face, Please! 🧸🌩️ (MDNI)

Hyunjin’s very vocal about how jealous & possessive he can get, and although it can get troublesome you find it kind of hot…

We Were On Break!! 🌩️🧸 (SFW)

Your ex boyfriend, Hyunjin, has a hard time accepting the end of your relationship and is very persistent on getting back together…

Corporate Gang 🧸 (MDNI)

JYP Co. gets a new IT-Agent and you can’t help but gush about him to your favorite coworkers…

(Nerdy,shy!Hyunjin Series)

Take Your Friends Out ⛈️🧸 (pt.1 ) (MDNI)

Your boyfriend has stood you up 3x this month and you decide that you’re done with being second place. Of course he disagrees…

Don’t Say That To Me ⛈️ (pt 2.) (MDNI)

Months after you took Hyunjin back you have to face the tough reality of falling out of love with him and end things for good…

Stress Induced Fever 🧸 (SFW)

Your job has decided to transfer you to their USA branch for a year and Hyunjin is failing miserably at holding himself together before you leave…

Sad Nudes? 🧸 (MDNI)

You’ve had a shit day and Hyunjin tries his best to cheer you up thousands of miles away…

I Love You. Now Date Me! 🧸🌩️ (SFW)

Your bestfriend has been jokingly telling you he’s in love with you for years only for you to find out it’s not a joke…and oh yeah, he HATES your boyfriend…

Babe, I Broke It 🧸 (SFW)

Hyunjin broke your brand new coffee mug and he’s taking it harder than you are (soft bbyboy)…

I Really Like You, Like Romantically 🔥🧸(MDNI)

Your best friend asks you for an insane favor of helping him lose his virginity and discovers his feelings in the process…

I Will Win! Fighting!🔥🧸 (MDNI)

You and Hyunjin make a friendly bet to survive No Nut November and despite his persistent confidence on winning, he eventually gives in…

Emergency Contact ⛈️ (SFW)

You and Hyunjin had a mutual breakup over a year ago, but apparently he forgot to remove you as his emergency contact and feelings are revisted…

Safe,Loved,& Accepted ⛈️(SFW)

Bang Chan has been making light of the nasty comments you’ve been getting online until you are put in a sticky situation and he’s worried sick a thousand of miles away…

Have You Always Been This Hot?? 🔥🧸 (MDNI)

Attempting to survive No Nut November with your best friend Chan brings forth feelings neither of you knew existed…and really good sex…

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stevie-petey · 1 year ago

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episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 7k

before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away.

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together.

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family.

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.”

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.”

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of.

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night.

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by.

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?”

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.”

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?”

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.”

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.”

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special.

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle.

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.”

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.”

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly.

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding.

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.”

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck.

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier.

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other.

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store.

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.”

“Sick!”

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?”

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight.

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look.

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment.

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go.

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s got a stick up her butt.”

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now.

“Lucas! Language!”

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night.

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.”

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent.

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…”

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike.

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy.

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.”

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him.

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood.

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins.

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys.

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will.

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him.

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street.

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy.

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour.

–

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school.

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat.

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift?

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later.

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class.

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English.

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right.

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence.

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening.

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-”

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you.

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault.

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice.

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark.

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else.

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit.

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other.

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart.

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up.

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail.

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?”

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.”

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt.

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you.

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind.

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him.

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you.

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.”

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan.

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today.

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him.

“I’m sorry.”

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.”

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins.

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can.

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears.

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters.

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed.

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder.

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t.

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,”

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.”

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave.

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it.

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality.

“Holy shit, did I hit you?”

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes.

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.”

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?”

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.”

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.”

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!”

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance.

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual.

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug.

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise.

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones.

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.”

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.”

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.”

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys.

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.”

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels.

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face.

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone.

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now.

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside.

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed.

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans.

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path.

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.”

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone.

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.”

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.”

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says.

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off.

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.”

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit.

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…”

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in.

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.”

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit.

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them.

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him.

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.”

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving.

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe.

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys.

“Byers!”

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception.

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize.

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends.

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for.

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second.

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well.

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it.

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well.

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.”

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes.

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks.

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case.

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and you know that nothing will be the same again.

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #honestly i just want to be jonathans bff #like its criminal that he doesnt have any real friends in the show until SEASON 4 #absolutely wild

654 notes · View notes

hsficrecommendation · 8 months ago

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@hsficrecommendation 's Masterlist

Note: This is a post that holds links to all of the fic-rec masterlists/wrap ups I've posted of months mentioned below.

Now, this is how it works - I'm an avid fanfiction reader (and I'm sure that if you're here, then, you're one too) and I genuinely believe that it's one of the purest and best forms of media. Every single fic we read deserves ton of support, for which I've got another sideblog called (@ireblogwhatireadcauseduh ) where I reblog all the fics I read.

This one, though, is a blog I created to hopefully preserve some of the best fics, according to me, that I've read so far. Fics that just really affected me in a way that I simply fell in love.

Mentioned below, are links that will lead you to the best fics, (again, according to me) that I read in the namely month. If a month isn't mentioned, it just means that either I didn't really read anything because life gets in the way sometimes, or that I didn't find any fic very touching.

So, if you do decide to read any of the fics that I've recommended in the links below, please make sure to reblog the fics and to leave feedback on them for the writers because that's what keeps them going!!

Also, a very shameless self-promo -- I've got a writing account as well! (Although I'm pretty sure you found this one from there ghsfkhjl) It's named @0oolookitsme ! Feel free to take a stroll <3

Aaand that's all I had to say! I'll let you lose now, hope you enjoy your little walk through this blog, and come back again!

All the love <3

2022

February

March

April, May, June, July, August, September

2023

January, February, April

June

June, September, October

November, December

2024

January, February and March (should be here in the beginning of April!)

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cowboydisaster · 2 years ago

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Your Protector

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: Arthur comes to your rescue while you're being harassed.

a/n: This is technically a reupload from back in November but I added a lot more detail and its now about 1k longer so-- Also this fic was originally a request: "reader getting hit on in a shady alley and Arthur rescuing her"

warnings: gore, blood, violence (not more than game), harassment, basically a gross, greedy man who gets a bit handsy

It’s been ten minutes since Arthur left you in the alley. Nervously, you run your sweaty palms down your jeans and slow your breaths. You couldn’t deny Arthur when he had asked you to scope out this job with him. He made all the plans, crafted a safe and efficient way to get the money with no one getting hurt. And although you trust him, your nerves are still on edge. The other outlaw had caught first wind of this score when helping a passerby on the road in Bayou Nwa. Arthur helped a man with a nasty snake bite, and was gifted a token of information as a payment. Apparently, the Saint Denis gunsmith is running a little underground gambling. Big poker games, with top players, betting more money just on one game than you’ve ever laid eyes on in your life. That tip came about a few weeks ago, and after some sniffing around, Arthur found the information to be true. Tonight, at 8pm, the cards were dealt for the tournament game. The big one.

You pace, nervously glancing down at your silver pocket watch. The time reads just after midnight. These games take hours, if not days, but by now most of the money should be out, and the players should all be here with their riches. Before jogging up the metal staircase and sneaking through a cracked window, Arthur had planted you as a lookout in the alley adjoining the gunsmith. His plan is: sneak in, play the part, and rob the bastards blind. They’ll probably be too wasted on hooch to even notice him slipping away with their life savings. Your job is strictly to keep watch, which Arthur reassured you is a very important job, despite your reservations. You glance at your pocket watch again, seeing that Arthur has now been in there for thirteen minutes. Shoving the watch into your pocket to get rid of the distraction, you glance around the alley. It's dark, and eerie. The pass way is long and narrow, with rotting wooden crates lining the walls and rats that run and squeak, causing you to jump every now and again. Water drips down from the metal overhangs, driving you mad with their constant noise.

Anxiety pools in your gut as the shadows made by the rats and the crates shift, and the walls seem to move in on you. It’s all an illusion of course, but your heart rate picks up as the shadows shift and taunt you. A few times you scare yourself, looking at the shadows for too long until they begin to morph. So, to preserve your sanity, you distract yourself, pulling your cattleman from its holster. You grab a bottle of gun oil and a little rag from your satchel, humming to yourself as you wipe down the barrel of the gun, making sure to get in between the little grooves. Arthur had bought you this gun, and had it engraved with ornate flowers. It’s one of your most dear possessions. You still feel incredibly uneasy, like you’re being watched, followed. But you tell yourself that your mind is just playing tricks on you. You focus on the gun, keeping enough awareness of your surroundings to know if the law is coming. With a satisfied smirk, you hold your gun under the flickering street light, admiring its clean, shiny state. Suddenly the gun is knocked away from your hand, and you gasp, having only a moment to watch it fall onto the cobblestone before whipping around in shock.

A beast of a man, easily over six feet tall with broad shoulders, towers over you, sneering down at you with yellow teeth and breath that reeks of liquor. He scares the hell out of you, and you back away quickly. In one large step backwards, with a loud gasp, your back hits the alley’s brick wall. The man steps forward, sandwiching you between himself and the wall. You feel so sick, so naive right now. When you had agreed to do this job, you’d expected to run into some nasty street kids and oversized rats at the worst, but oh were you wrong. Somehow the other type of vermin roaming Saint Denis had slipped your mind: the men like this one. The men who drink their fill and search the streets for a cheap woman to spend the night with, or any woman to spend the night with. He is the exact type of man you would expect to be at an illegal poker game, with greasy hair, beady eyes, and sharp features that remind you of a predator. Your back is still pressed against the wall, and the man in front of you corners you by bringing a hand to either side of your head on the wall. You’re trapped. You glance down to your cattleman on the street, and damningly realize you can’t reach it. When the man opens his mouth to speak, the acrid, alcoholic smell of his breath makes you gag.

“Say, what’s a pretty lil’ thing like you doin’ in these nasty parts of town all by yourself?” His breath is hot on your face, and the smell of his sweat chokes you. You think about screaming for help, but all that would do is tie a noose around Arthur’s neck. Yelling isn’t an option. One of his large hands comes up to your face and he gently caresses your cheek with the back of his index finger. You tear your face away from his touch, fuming. You look angry and tough, but under it all you’re terrified.

“I'm not alone, got a friend in the gunsmith, he should be back any second.” you growl, staring the man right in his colorless eyes. Slowly, he turns his head in both directions, scanning the gunsmith doors and the stairwell that leads to the attic. When he turns his head back to you, there is a sickening grin on it.

“Well, sweet thing, I don’t see anyone… do you?” The man chuckles deeply, threateningly, “It can be real dangerous around here if you ain’t got someone to keep an eye on you…” He snarls, a mock smile on his lips that causes your stomach to flip with disgust. The man leans down, only inches away from your face as you shove your body back against the brick wall, wishing it would swallow you whole.

“The names’ Levi… care to tell me yours, pretty girl?” Levi sneers, eyeing your scowl.

Your eyes are glued to the gunsmith’s side door, silently begging Arthur to return. You know that you can’t fight this man off. He’s much bigger than you, and even in his drunken state, he’s stronger than you are. His hands grip your forearms, pushing you back against the brick wall and you yelp.

“I don’t need you protectin’ me, now let me go!” You yell into his face, shoving against the brute as hard as you can. Levi only laughs, pushing closer to you. His weight, sandwiching you against the wall, knocks the air out of your lungs as you attempt to push him away. He only laughs, and the smell of his alcohol ridden breath once again makes you gag.

“Why don’t you come wit’ me? I’ll show ya a real good time. Do you think a lil’ thing like you can handle me, precious?”

Eyes squinted shut, you silently beg Arthur or anyone to help you.

— — — —

Arthur scans the room once more before swiping the cash off of the table and sliding it into his leather saddle bag. Most of the gamblers have passed out, but the ones who are still conscious are far too drunk to notice Arthur slipping by, knocking out a couple of guards and stealing their wealth. It's dark in the room, most of the candles have burned out already, and Arthur isn’t seen as he crouches, expert fingers grappling and pickpocketing as he goes. There is a little makeshift bar towards the window he had crawled in through, and on top of it rests a thick clip of money. Arthur eyes it, stepping towards the window to snatch the clip. Just as he passes the window, a breeze rolls in, and carried on it is your voice.

“Let me go!” You growl, and Arthur peeks out the window, face pale as his heart drops. He sees a big bastard, towering over you and holding you against the wall, yelling in your face. For a second Arthur sees nothing but red.

Arthur panics, filled with both rage and fear. The cash clips that he has not yet collected are discarded on the counter as Arthur runs down the interior staircase. It's quicker than crawling through the window and dealing with the ladders. Arthur’s mind is clouded with a primal instinct to protect you as he bolts down the steps, skipping multiple as he goes.

“Shit, shit- Shit!” Arthur growls, pushing up against the main door to the gunsmith. It doesn't budge, presumably locked for the night. And although Arthur would only have to reach down and unlock the fine wooden door, he wastes no time, kicking the wood with such force that it swings open, nearly knocked off the goddamn hinges. Arthur fumes, stepping through the broken door, and dropping the saddle bag onto the ground. You’re only right across the alley now.

His eyes meet yours, and you look so small compared to the bastard who is bothering you. Arthur doesn’t hesitate for a second, coming up behind Levi in a few long strides and grabbing him by the back of his collar. Even though Levi is large in comparison to you, he is not nearly as big as Arthur.

Arthur drags Levi back by his collar with an indescribable rage, and slams him into the brick wall, opposite of you. A sound erupts from Arthur, that could only be compared to a growl as he wraps his hand around Levi’s throat. His other fist is raised and ready to beat the life out of the bastard. You breathe deeply, sinking against the floor to catch your breath and reel over what’s playing out before you., relief washing over you because Arthur’s here.

“What in the hell were you just sayin’ to her?!” Arthur’s voice is deep, filled to the core with rage, the kind that can’t be stopped or repressed. His eyes are dark, and despite the love and the comfort that they have provided you with, Arthur looks terrifying now.

You can do nothing but catch your breath and watch the scene play out. You’re still in shock, mindlessly rubbing your hand over the spot on your arm that your perpetrator was gripping onto so tightly. You wince, realizing that there will definitely be bruises there later.

Levi cracks a sickening smile before responding to Arthur,

“Ah, so you’re the one this whore is fuc-” Levi’s words are cut short as Arthur’s fist meets his face. There is so much force and anger behind the punch that you are surprised Levi is still conscious. A loud crack snaps through the air- you realize that it is Levi’s nose shattering as he screams out in pain. Arthur is fuming, his shoulders rising up and down quickly as he attempts to stop himself from killing this piece of shit. He puts his fist down, but keeps his hand on Levi’s throat. A bruise in the shape of Arthur’s knuckles is already starting to form on Levi’s face. His greasy hair is now falling down in front of his eyes as he spits blood onto the ground. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s drunk, stupid or both, but he attempts to get under Arthur’s skin one last time.

“You don’t feel like sharin, do you mister?” Levi pauses, spitting some more blood to the ground and eyeing you up and down before continuing, “Can’t say I blame you partner… If I had a woman wit a body like that I’d never-”

Once again Levi is shut up by Arthur’s fists. Except for this time Arthur doesn’t stop. Something snaps inside the outlaw, like he’s gone completely feral. Arthur shoves Levi to the ground, straddling him while landing punch after punch to his face. You sit against the wall in shock, wincing at the wet crunch and snap of bones breaking. Arthur’s chest is heaving as he beats Levi senselessly. You’re not sure how long it goes on, but it feels like forever.

Eventually, Levi stops resisting the blows, and Arthur gets off the half dead man, still enraged. He stands, fuming.

“You piece of shit, don’t you ever put your goddamn hands on her again- and if you ever talk to her, or any woman, like that again, I'll do alot worse than this, you hear?!” Arthur all but snarls.

Levi doesn’t respond, and Arthur kicks him in the ribs for it.

“Do. You. Hear?” Arthur growls, low and deep.

You’re honestly not sure if Levi is even alive, or capable of responding. His face is beaten in, red and smashed, he's not even recognizable. You breathe a little easier when you see the beaten man nod his head up and down. He’s an awful bastard, but you’re relieved that Arthur didn’t kill him.

“Good.” Arthur hisses with an icy tone that you’ve never heard before.

Stepping over Levi, Arthur leans down into a crouch in front of you and his features soften. He gently pulls the hair away from your ears, checking your face before running his green eyes over your body, checking that you’re not hurt. His face is pinched up in concern, and the hands that check over you are bruised and stained with the blood of your perpetrator. After doing a quick check over, Arthur grabs your gun. His gentle hands meet your waist before he helps you to stand up. As soon as you’re on your feet, without another word, he grips your hand, picks up the money bag and pulls you deeper into the alley. After some turns and bends, Arthur stops in a secluded spot.

Arthur deems you both far enough away to be involved with any trouble from the law, and he turns to face you. His hands come up to your cheeks, and with care he gently turns your face to both sides, checking you over more thoroughly.

“How badly do you hurt?” Arthur asks, rolling up your sleeves to assess the forming purple splotches along your arm.

When he sees them, his jaw sets into a hard, cold state as he breathes deeply to control his rage. Your eyes flutter up to his own, and you tread on thin ice, not wanting him to go back and kill the man.

“Im okay Arthur, really, I-” You start, tears pooling in your eyes. Arthur watches them form and then wipes them away with his thumb.

“Now don’t lie for my sake, he hurt you? More than this?” Arthur’s hand is gently holding your bruised arm, and the other cups your cheek. His eyes speak of an ache, of regret, you know he blames himself for leaving you in the alley, and you rush to reassure him.

“No, no he didn't hurt me, shook me up a little, but nothing bad.” You whisper, catching those soft green eyes again. Arthur looks down, and his body tightens as he avoids your eyes, terrified to ask the next question.

“Did he- did he do anythin..?” Arthur looks up, eyes locked on to yours to assess your answer, and you flinch, realizing what he’s asking. God, it could have been so much worse.

“Arthur, no, I promise, I’m okay. Really.”

He nods, seemingly accepting your truth with a breath of relief as his tongue darts out over his lips.

“Fuckin’ bastard, I should’ve done a lot worse to him.” Arthur curses, stepping away to pace lightly.

You step forward and put a hand on his warm chest to quell his rage.

“No, no you shouldn’t have. He got the message Arthur.”

Arthur glances up at you for a few moments, his hands resting on his belt before he steps forward, and pulls you toward him by your shoulder.

“Just… C’mere sweetheart.” He whispers.

You step towards him, grateful for the way he envelopes you into his arms. He’s so big, so warm. It’s a comfort that you didn’t realize you needed in the moment as Arthur kisses the top of your head. Everything is perfect, just in the moments that he holds you like this.

“Y’know, I worry about you sweetheart. Don’t want you gettin’ hurt or bein’ made uncomfortable by bastards like him.” Arthur mutters into your hair, still hugging you tightly.

You wrap your arms tighter around his torso, nuzzling into his chest.

“Well that’s why I have you.” You counter, smiling into Arthur’s warmth. He chuckles, and you’re glad to hear it.

“I'll always be your protector, darlin.” Arthur says before pressing a slow kiss to your temple.

#arthur morgan fluff #protective arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfiction

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queenie-ofthe-void · 3 months ago

Text

The Babysitter Chronicles - Henderson

Steve POV 5+1 (immediately follows s2) || wc: 1.8k || full fic ao3

Henderson || Mayfield pt 1 / Mayfield pt 2 || Sinclair || Wheeler || Byers || +1 Hopper

~~~

This has been the worst week of Steve’s life.

Not only does Nancy think he’s bullshit, he found out she never actually loved him, she cheated on him, and she partially blames him for Barb’s death.

He was almost eaten alive by alternate dimension monster demodogs, almost died at the hands of Billy fucking Hargrove, almost died in the backseat of Billy’s car, and then almost died again in the tunnels.

He’s pretty sure he has a serious concussion and a broken nose. The stitches on his forehead are starting to itch. He’s had a migraine every day since, and there’s ringing in his ears.

Steve honestly thought he could put all of this Upside-Down shit behind him. Pack it away in a tiny box and move on. Yet he was dragged into it once again, forced to protect kids he barely knows from both monsters and humans.

He deserves to get paid for this shit, to be honest.

He’s got no friends to sit with at lunch, no girlfriend to love him, and no parents at home to take care of him.

After spending the week at home alone, wallowing and recovering, he found himself thinking of the kids. It was the first time he felt anything other than misery and physical pain. But they were big, complicated emotions that he’s still untangling. He’s been able to pick out fear and anxiety, annoyance, exasperation, and– surprisingly– fondness. When he thinks of the kids, he’s hit with a surge of fierce protectiveness and devotion.

He’s got nothing to show for his life and no one to spend it with. Those kids, though, needed him in a way he’s never felt before. It was life or death, and they trusted him to keep them safe. Now that it’s over, even If he isn’t necessarily wanted, maybe he could at least continue being useful.

Which is how he finds himself pulling up to the same curb as he did a week ago. At least this time he’s not here about the Upside-Down; although, knowing Dustin, he wouldn’t be surprised.

“Steve!” Dustin’s running out the front door and down the driveway in just a t-shirt and sweatpants despite the chilly November morning. He plows into his chest at full speed and almost sends them both toppling over. “Steve, holy shit you’re here! Oh shit your face.”

“Hey man, language ok?” Jesus, the mouth on this kid. “Relax twerp, ease up on the hug, you're killing my ribs.”

Dustin immediately drops his arms and backs away, looking cowed. Steve’s going to have to work on his approach, apparently the kid’s sensitive. Or maybe Steve’s still a bit of a bully, another part of himself that needs to be fixed.

“It’s ok, Dustin, don’t worry about it. Just a little sore still.”

He perks back up again, bouncing up and down on his heels. The little gremlin’s toothless smile is so damn cute Steve wants to give him a noogie.

“Ok then,” Dustin replies, “so why are you here?”

“Uhhh, actually I’m here to talk to your mom.” Feeling suddenly awkward, Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. He hisses as it pulls on his stitches.

“My mom?” he asks, incredulously. “Why? What’s going on?”

Steve supposes he should’ve thought of this. It makes more sense to talk with Dustin before actually asking his mom for permission, but he hadn’t practiced this part. Now here he is, facing down an over-dramatic middle schooler and he’s actually nervous about it.

“Yeah, I kind of noticed you’re an only child, and you don’t really have a dad around.”

Dustin’s face falls, morphing into a scowl. Shit, Steve’s barely said one word and he’s already messing this up.

“Not all of us have rich parents who buy us whatever they want,” the kid huffs, crossing his arms and kicking non-existent rocks.

“No wait, ok look I’m sorry Dustin, that’s not what I meant. I’m not really great at talking about stuff like this. The important stuff anyways. Let me try again. Please?”

The kid’s still scowling, but his body relaxes a bit and he nods.

“Ok I’ll start over,” Steve continues. “Even though we were dealing with all of the Upside-Down shit and it was literally the worst week of my entire life, I enjoyed having you around. I’d sleep better at night if I knew you twerps are safe and I know you don’t really have anyone around other than your mom and the other gremlins–”

“The Party.”

Steve stares at him, mouth hanging open as he’s cut off mid-sentence. He’s in the middle of pouring his heart out to this mouthy ten year old and he’s got the audacity to interrupt him.

“The what now?”

“The Party, Steve.” The little shit’s tone is overflowing with condescension. “The group. We’re called the Party. You know, like in DnD?”

“What the hell is a dandy?”

“You, kind of,” Dustin mutters under his breath. Steve doesn’t really know what that means and coming from this kid he probably doesn’t want to. “D and D stands for Dungeons and Dragons, Steve. It’s a role playing game.”

“Whoa, alright I think you’re a little too young to be playing role playing games.”

“I’ve literally been playing for three years.”

“You’ve been roleplaying since you were seven?”

“I’m thirteen Steve!” He’s pretty sure Dustin’s screeching can be heard from the other side of town. “What are we even talking about right now? Why are you here, at my home, looking for my mom?”

“I want to be your goddamned babysitter!” Steve screams back. He takes a deep breath– in and out. This kid’s going to be the death of him, he just knows it.

He looks down to find Dustin’s eyes wide and mouth formed in a perfect oval. The kid’s shocked, either from what Steve said or that he literally shouted it in his face. Now it’s Steve’s turn to kick rocks. He shuffles back and forth, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep them from tugging his hair again.

“You guys almost died, man,” Steve says softly, avoiding eye contact. It makes this part easier. “You almost died, and if I hadn’t been there, I have no idea what would’ve happened. Maybe you all would’ve been fine, I don’t know. But it was my job to keep you safe, and you don’t have anyone else around except your mom and the grem– I mean the Party– to look out for you. I had to quit basketball thanks to Billy, and Nancy broke up with me. My parents are literally never home, so I’ve got a lot of free time on my hands. Figure I could use some of that time keeping you out of trouble.”

Dustin’s face hasn’t changed, still devoid of any emotion other than shock. God damnit, Steve really messed this up. He looks around and rubs the back of his neck. His skin’s prickling with nerves as he starts to sweat and he takes a step backwards towards the safety of his car.

This was a stupid idea. Why would any of these kids want anything to do with him? He’s nothing like them: smart, nerdy, can save the world without taking a beating. Steve thought he could be useful, worthwhile to someone– to Dustin. He should know better by now.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just going to go,” Steve says. But as he turns to leave, Dustin slams into him once more. Steve’s breath whooshes from his lungs and a lightning strike of pain travels up his back. He thinks he’s shaking from the pain, except his crewneck is starting to feel damp against the kid’s face and he can see Dustin’s shoulders practically vibrating. “Hey, Dustin. Hey it’s ok, are you alright? What’s wrong man, talk to me.”

Dustin doesn’t look up, just keeps his face buried in Steve’s sweatshirt and grips him tighter. It hurts and it aches and it pulls at all of his injuries. He still lets Dustin hold on for as long as he needs to.

There’s a slight movement out of the corner of his good eye, and he glances up towards the house to see a small, curvy woman smiling at them through the window. Not wanting to dislodge Dustin, he slightly lifts his hand to wave. He’s surprised when she honest to God clutches her heart and wipes what he assumes is a tear from her eye.

Steve’s already worried he screwed this whole thing up. He definitely didn’t think it would happen in front of a goddamned audience.

The kid’s still holding on, but the shaking has subsided and he’s breathing easier. Steve smashes his hat to ruffle his hair, and Dustin backs off with a shriek. His face is covered in red blotches matching his bloodshot eyes. Steve looks down at his sweatshirt to find a tears-snot-spit wet patch stained into his chest.

“Dude, gross,” Steve huffs. At least he’s wearing an undershirt. Dustin just chuckles.

“Like friends?” Dustin asks, still wiping at his face. “I wouldn’t mind, you know, hanging out. Whenever you’re not busy, I mean.”

It’s Steve’s turn to feel a burn behind his eyes. Relief fills him with warmth as his growing anxiety is washed away. Dustin wants him around. He wants to spend time with him and Steve never really thought he’d get this far. All he had was a half-baked idea to serve himself up for the one thing he knows he’s good for. And he was wanted.

He reaches out and pulls the kid back in for a hug, holding him tight despite the pain. Dustin starts trying to push off, so Steve flips him around under his armpit in a headlock, rubbing his knuckles roughly into the top of Dustin’s hat as he starts to screech again. He huffs, straightening out his hat, still sporting that iconic toothless smile.

“Now,” Steve says, “all I have to do is ask your mom.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Dustin replies, turning around to lead Steve towards the house. He sees the curtains pulled roughly shut and the silhouette of the woman heading toward the front door. “She already knows all about you. I told her what happened. Well, the government version.”

“You told your mom about me?” Steve asks in awe.

“Duh, why wouldn’t I? Sure, you got your ass handed to you, but it was totally awesome!”

“Right,” Steve scoffs. He’ll let that one slide for now. “You’re sure she won’t mind?”

“Mom’s going to love you. She’s been asking about you all week.”

If she’s anything like her son, then hopefully Steve’s got nothing to worry about. And maybe if he can watch one kid, he can talk to the rest of their parents– look after the whole Party of gremlins. He can host after school hangouts and movie nights, sleepovers in the living room and pool parties in the summer. There’s the beginnings a plan forming in his head, which parents and kids he needs to talk to next.

When he’s met with Mrs. Henderson’s warm smile, he thinks maybe the rest of this year will be alright.

#steve harrington and the party #steve harrington fic #steve and dustin #steve harrington #dustin henderson #steve and the party #good babysitter steve harrington #babysitter steve harrington #the babysitter chronicles #stranger things fic #post season 2 #queeniewritesstories

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