#and that was such a big deal for me because I felt so exposed
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It is May 2024, month of mermaids and the 40th anniversary of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, here's a throwback to a very silly doodle of both!
If I remember correctly, I drew this in 200...9?... because an old friend said she had never seen Disney's "The Little Mermaid." With her being one of the biggest tmnt fans I knew, I figured it'd be easier to explain the film with ninja turtle visual aids.
I don't even remember if I showed her this XD I do remember there was another doodle, but it's nowhere to be found in my hard drive or in old posts.
T.Mermay.N.T.
Who knew I was years ahead of the trend?
#art#very old very dumb art XD#tmnt#mermay#all my old doodles were dumb and silly like this#also forgot that even though I was drawing tmnt fanart for most of the 2000s I didn't really share it online until much later#and that was such a big deal for me because I felt so exposed#but then I made some good friends like this friend#miss you Loo
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CABINFEVER:
Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)
(anyone else green)
warnings: SMUT!! nsfw 18+ (loss of virginity, unprotected + no pull out…assume ur on birth control)
authors note: love a little sweet smut matt moment 🫶 also imagine the world wasn’t falling apart and there was still snow 🤪 HOPE U GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!!
summary: you and a group of your friends rent an airbnb cabin up in the mountains for a winter get away, but it’s short on beds. You settle for a bench and Matt takes the couch next to you, but things heat up when you get cold…
word count: 2,915 W
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“HOLY FUCK! it’s FREEZING out” yelled Nick slamming the door behind him. He was the last one inside the cabin and join the rest of you in stomping the snow off your shoes and hanging up various layers of winter-wear. You and a group of 7 of your friends decided to rent an airbnb up in the mountains in New Hampshire for a week to have a cozy vacation. You planned to sled, go on winter walks, make cookies and cozy drinks, play games, and just enjoy being together away from the rest of the world. The only problem was not all of you going had a budget like the triplets, Larray, and Madi. even though they offered to cover for the rest of you, it didn’t seem fair. so you settled on a slightly more quaint cabin instead of a big mansion. the catch was that there were only three bedrooms. You were always easy going and determined that everyone else be happy, so you had made peace with the fact that you’d probably end up on a couch long ago.
“so who’s gonna be living room buddies with me, huh?” you questioned.
“guess that would be me” said Matt, with a sheepish smile.
No surprise, really. Matt was an angel to everyone, so of course he’d be the first to say he’d take the undesirable sleeping spot. you grinned back at him, maybe a little too much. You’d been close to the triplets since you were kids, but Matt had always been your favorite. You related to his quieter side and always had a soft spot for him. A soft spot that went deeper than you wanted to admit in the last few years. Matt was always good looking, but lately something felt different…even though you’d never tell him that.
“i can live with that” you attempted to joke. The living room was beautiful, but large and drafty. there were a few armchairs, but only one oversized couch. next to it was a big window that had a little nook fitted with pillows.
“you take the couch, yn” Matt said, gesturing with his head.
“wha—no way. then where will you sleep?”
“I dunno i’ll figure it out don’t worry bout it. I’ll grab a beanbag or make a pile on the floor” he said blowing you off
“Nuh-uh. no way. you take the couch, i’ll sleep on that window thing”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah a hundred percent”
“Mmmm okay, but if you wanna switch at any point just tell me okay seriously” the genuine concern in his wide blue eyes made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. truth be told, you really didn’t mind this set up because you’d be sleeping just a few feet away from him.
“Deal” you smiled back at him.
The group of you had a perfect evening. it was like something out of a hallmark movie, but by 2am everyone was going to sleep. Matt showered upstairs, which gave you time to get ready for bed and throw on your lame excuse for sleepwear—an oversized tshirt that hung to just above your knees. you’d never wished you’d overpacked and brought shorts more. you tried to cover up your exposed skin with blankets as you heard creaking from the steps. Matt trotted down in flannel pants and a black tank, hair still damp and clinging to his face from the shower. seeing him like that made your throat grow dry.
“Y’tired?” Matt asked, arranging his pillows on the couch so that his head would be by yours, your bodies creating a right angle on their separate resting spots.
“eh, not really. you?”
“nah, not so much. bit of a night owl lately, i guess.” he said, sitting down and beginning to rummage through his bag. you laughed.
“name a time in your life you’ve ever been a morning person?” you teased
“hey shhh i could be if i tried.” he shook his bag vigorously
“shit. think i forgot my phone charger”
“oh i have one, you can use it” you said hopping up to grab your stuff. you strode across the room towards your suitcase without thinking, but suddenly felt heat on the back of your neck like you were being watched. you glanced back at Matt and just barely caught him staring at your bare legs before he quickly looked away. you’d completely forgotten about your choice of outfit and felt embarrassment flush your cheeks.
“here y’go” you said shoving the wires in his direction, avoiding his eyes.
“uh thanks” he said, with equal avoidance. you reached to turn off the last light in the room in hopes that would drown out the awkwardness. Before you knew it the two of you were laughing and chatting away in the strained moonlight leaking in from the window. This went on for about 20 minutes before the chill coming from outside started to get to you. your teeth chattered slightly. mid sentence, Matt halted.
“what’s wrong?”
“oh nothing, just a little breezy here, it’s fine”
“what? you can’t sleep there then! you’ll get sick!” his protective nature was borderline heart melting.
“Matt c’mon. I’m not that weak, i’ll be fine. I’m not making you sleep here”
“Then share the couch with me at least”
his offer caught you off guard and you paused for a second, processing before answering.
“you sure?” you asked, unsteadily. another small moment of silence. was he regretting what he’d offered?
“yeah, of course” You detected a small crack in his voice.
“I don’t wanna crowd you—“ he cut you off
“y/n it’s fine seriously, just c’mhere. it’s just me, don’t be weird.” he answered, sounding almost more like he was trying to convince himself than you. you crept over to the couch. Matt was on his side, already holding his blanket up with his arm to give you a spot to slide into. at first you laid down face to face with him.
“hey” he said quietly, inches from you. you smiled up at him. it made your heart race to see him from this angle, this close. you were sure he could hear your heartbeat if you stayed like this a second longer, so you rolled over so your back was to him. matt made a funny noise, almost like he was clearing his throat. your knees hung off the couch slightly, so you backed up to not fall off. Matt let out a strained cough.
“Matt are you okay? you sound like—“ you started to turn your head to face him, and inadvertently twisted your hips against his body. you felt his hand latch onto your waist, halting it. he winced and let out a small hiss
“y/n please” tumbled out of his lips, his whole body going stiff.
“Matt what’s wrong? I—“ suddenly you became away of a hardness pressing against your lower back and ass. your breathing hitched. Matt was hard. and you could feel it. Matt was hard and was pressing against you, hell it had been caused by you.
“oh my god” you whispered.
“fuck y/n i’m so sorry—holy shit. this is awful. i feel disgusting. i never wanna make you uncomfortable i—“ he began to babble sounding on the verge of tears
“Matt no—“ he rolled onto his back looking up at the ceiling. you turned onto your side to face him.
“No, y/n. this is so bad-oh god. i was worried this would happen, i mean being anywhere near you i’d worry about that, but i thought i could control myself and fuck i’m so sorry“
“wait what do you mean you worried?”
“come on, y/n. you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. of course i’d worry, but you’re also one of my best friends so—“
“you think i’m beautiful?” matt paused and looked at you in the eye.
“are you joking, y/n?” you shook your head.
he took a deep breath before continuing.
“I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world” you exhaled rockily, scanning his eyes.
“and i can’t believe this is how i’m telling you that or i did anything to make you feel—“
“Matty, stop” you said, putting a hand lightly to his chest. it heaved at your touch.
“you didn’t do anything wrong, at all. i just never knew you saw me the way the way i see you”
“y’mean you—?” you bit your lip and smiled at him, nodding. he let out an exhale of relief and excitement and smiled back at you. he inched closer to your face, hesitantly.
“can i kiss you?” you nuzzled your nose slightly against his.
“yes, Matt” he leaned the rest of the way in and gently pressed his warm pillowy lips against yours. the feeling was better than you could’ve ever imagined. he pulled away, not wanting to seem too eager or pushy, and waited for you. you glanced from his eyes to his mouth before pushing back against him. this kiss was different from the last. there was fire and passion to it. your lips began to meld together, creating a rhythm as his hands reached for your waist. you wrapped an arm around his neck and ran your hand through his hair, which resulted in a huffing of air from his mouth into yours. his tongue slid against your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you immediately granted. you pressed your lower half against his. he grunted and squeezed your hip. smiling against your lips he rasped out
“careful there, problem from earlier is not exactly gone yet” your stomach flipped
“good” you breathed out, pressing your bodies flush again. he looked at you wide eyed, his pupils dilating, before diving in for the heaviest kiss yet. you lifted your leg up slightly, wrapping it around him. the move caused your shirt to slide up to the top of your hip. matt ran his hand up your thigh and gripped your ass causing you to let out a small whine. he bit at your lip slightly and used this new hold on your lower half to move himself between your legs further and on top of you. he pulled away from you to take off his shirt and you felt heat electrify your body at the sight of him uncovered in the weak blueish light. he smiled at you shyly before kissing you again. one strong hand began to trail over the sensitive skin of your stomach, up your shirt, sending ripples of buzzing through your body as the tips of his hand approached your braless chest. Matt ran his fingers delicately over your nipples, hardening at his slightly cold touch. you shuddered.
“can i take this off?” he said, tugging at the hem. you nodded vigorously and helped him pull it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. you fought the urge to cover yourself as his eyes engulfed the sight of you.
“god you’re so perfect” he almost moaned out. you giggled and tightened your legs around his lower half, encouraging him back down to you gently. the feeling of his warm bare chest against yours made you let out a sigh. he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, breathing hot warm air against your sensitive skin before gently sucking and pulling through his teeth. you whimpered into him, wrapping your hands back into his hair. he retaliated by starting to grind his hips against your heat, the feeling of his hard on painfully present. your two most desperate spots only separated by your underwear and his pj bottoms.
“Matt—“ you moaned out
“hmmmm?” he hummed into your neck. you needed him in ways you couldn’t explain. you squirmed beneath him. he pulled away to look at you and raise an eyebrow.
“what is it, beautiful?” he cooed, making you flustered. you pushed your hips back up at him, unable to come up with words.
“ohh i see” he chuckled out. you felt a flash of embarrassment and tried to cover your hands with your face. he grabbed your wrists lightly and lowered them.
“Want me to make you feel good, ma?” he said softly into your ear as he dragged his hand down your stomach and to the waistband of your underwear. you whimpered, desire crying out for contract between your legs. he lowered his fingers over the thin cloth that covered your pussy and dragged them up and down, giving you a teasing amount of friction.
“more, Matty, please” you cried out. he gingerly pushed the fabric aside and ran his fingers along your dripping folds
“god you’re so wet” he whispered out in awe, looking down at you , hungrily. he seemed almost in a trace, but the torment was too much for you. you grabbed his wrist and guided his hand, positioning his finger tips at your entrance. his breathing shallowed as he looked up at you while inserting his digits deep into your core. you became a mess as Matt continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them upwards expertly.
“fuck i could watch you like this forever” he panted
“mmmm feels—ss—so good, matt”
“god you don’t know what you’re doing to me, ma” your walls clenched at the thought of his hard length. you reached down between your bodies and palmed at his crotch. he let out a groan. his impressively large hard on throbbed under your touch, straining against his pants.
“oh my god, y/n” he mumbled, closing his eyes. you’d never seen anyone look so sexy before.
“Matt, I want you” you gasped, without thought. his eyes flickered open, his pupils were blown.
“Are—are you sure?” he said, struggling to breathe.
“I’m sure” Matt reached to untie his drawstring. you watched him, closely, as he loosed his pants and lowered them. your mouth watered at the sight of his large rock hard dick slapping against his stomach, the tip already dripping precum. he leaned back over you and began to line himself up with your entrance. nerves shot through your body.
“wait matt”
“what? whats wrong? should i stop?” he said, looking up at you with worry
“No, no definitely not, i—i just—i haven’t done this before?”
“Oh” he said smiling with relief
“Are you sure you want to? we can wait i’m fine to wait. i don’t wanna do anything you’re not ready for”
“NO!” you said a little too eagerly “I really want to” you finished shyly
“Okay” he chuckled. He realigned himself and gave you a gentle kiss
“This is probably gonna hurt a bit, okay? we can stop any time you want to” you nodded and he began to push his tip slowly into your entrance. you cried out at the feeling of him stretching your insides so much. he paused for a moment.
“do you want to stop?” he said sweetly
“No. keep going” you said wincing. he pushed himself to the base of his cock and moaned at feeling you completely around him. he slowly began to slide himself in and out of your pussy. the pain started to turn into pleasure.
“go faster, matty, please” he listened and began to pick up his pace, creating a delicious rhythm and hitting your sweet spot deep inside of you with each thrust. you let out a string of curses and cries at the sensation.
“fuck you feel so good around my dick, baby”
“oh god don’t stop”
“you like that, sweet girl”
“yes—fuck yes—i like it so much”
“you’re so fucking perfect, princess. god i love being inside of you”
“Matt—oh my god—fuck—I—“ you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach as your buildup started to reach its peak.
“you gonna cum, sweetheart?” Matt lowered one of his hands to press on your lower stomach, where he was deep inside of you. your vision began to blur.
“Let go, baby. Cum for for me” your hearing buzzed and you saw flashes of white as you came undone. Your walls clenched around Matt’s cock causing his thrusts to become sloppy.
“fuck, gorgeous i’m close—where do you want me to—“ he panted out
“just keep going, matty” you cooed still coming down from your high
“wh—you-you sure?” he questioned fighting off his release
“yes, don’t stop. keep going for me”
“oh my ffu—god-yes—anything for you” he stuttered
“fuck baby i’m gonna cum”
“yeah? cum inside me, matty, please”
“OH GOD FUCK Y/N”
“i wanna feel you cum”
“OH—IM CUMMING—OH FUCK—“ Matt cried out thrusting into you, wildly. He halted deep inside you as he released hot spurts of his cum into your core. he collapsed, panting heavily. after a moment, he pulled out and quickly leaned back down to give you a kiss before reaching to grab you your shirt. you smiled at each other, sheepishly, as you got redressed. he pulled you tightly against him and ran his hand down the back of your head, soothingly.
“How was that?”
“Perfect” you mumbled into his chest, breathing him in.
“Yeah?” he chuckled into your hair. you nodded.
“I’d say so too.” he said.
“I’ve always dreamed of getting to hold you like this” he whispered
“really?”
“mhm”
“me too” he paused for a moment
“what would you think of maybe being something where we could always be like this?”
you pulled away to look at him and he grinned at you. you pulled him in for the biggest kiss you muster.
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why am i gonna cry? WHY CANT THE MEN I MAKE UP IN MY HEAD BE REAL.
#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo#smut#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo fanfic#matthew sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo x yn#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x yn#christopher sturniolo smutt#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#fanfic smut#christopher sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo x you
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GENTLE, PLEASE
PAIRING: Alastor x Wife!Reader SUMMARY: Y/N, like the nervous wreck she is, can’t stop spending her free time worrying over something that’s not even a big deal. Of course, one thing lead to another. (Thank you, Charlie, for letting them have the day off). WARNINGS: (SFW) Reader is female, Reader is hellborn, Reader is VERY anxious (alastor as well, but not too much), reader is sensitive obv, angel is angel, usage of y/n, established relationship cussing on both parts, Alastor owns readers soul. (NSFW) alastor’s pain kink shows a little bit, lingerie, reader is TIGHT, reader is also virgin but is registered adult!!!, mention of a safeword, p in v, slight orgasm denial, reader’s tears, soul-chain bondage, alastor knots. Mentions of pregnancy^^ idk if there’s angst in this that counts but both have a good ending so dw (LMK if i missed anything!!!!)
NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92
Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!
〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*・゚♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~
Alastor was a man of his word.
Y/N was sitting in her room, tired from her piece of vibrating plastic that brang her ‘pleasure’.
“You look gorgeous in your bliss, darling.”
Whenever Alastor rubbed her, ate her out, it made her feel real pleasure, though.
But, did he?
What was real pleasure?
“I’m too big for you, sweetheart, maybe another time.”
Another time.
Did he want another time?
“You’re almost like Charlie’s mother, Hah! We’d make great parents.”
The look he gave you.
Y/N felt so relieved after hearing Charlie was going up to heaven for a meeting just a moment ago, but now all of these stupid…that’s mean. All these overwhelming thoughts were plaguing her head.
She threw the piece of plastic across the room.
She had to give him something.
when was the last time you talked to him? when was the last time you crossed paths with your husband during work? when was the last time you cooked for him?
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
22:10 PM
She couldn’t sleep.
Was she good enough?
Ugh.
She put on a flimsy oversized shirt she usually wears to bed, some polka-dot pajama shorts, and white, knee-high socks.
She didn’t bother to change her underwear garments from the night before.
Y/N looked around before heading out of her hotel room, in case anybody saw her, to Alastor’s room.
Y/N was so happy when Alastor ‘accidentally’ mapped her room next to his on one of the secluded floors when the hotel was being rebuilt. How happy she was, indeed.
Knock knock knock
Silence. but only for a moment before she heard and felt the soft familiar static come closer to the other side of the door.
“Come in, mon cher.” He greeted as he opened the door, stepping aside. His room looked neat and clean, unlike Y/N’s. mostly because there wasn’t much stuff…and he had a whole bayou, making the room bigger.
She nervously walked over the the edge of his bed and sat down, breathing in the smell of his familiar cologne.
“Whats keeping you up so late? you’re usually a slumbering baby at this time of night!” He chortled, sitting down next to her on the plush bed of his.
Fuck.
He was wearing silk pajama pants and a robe, but the robe was just barely tied tightly, exposing a majority of his chest. His monocle was placed elsewhere and his hair was slightly disheveled.
Crap, you woke him up didn’t you.
“…I don’t know.” You dumbass, wrong answer! she scolded at herself.
Alastor chuckled again, “Just missed me?” he asked.
That reminded Y/N of back then. When it was simple and new between them. Before they went to this hotel, decades ago when the two met. She would always go over to his manor in the middle of the night after roaming the streets and feeling lonely.
Ah, yes. Now i have to work for the princess.
“…Yeah…missed you.” Y/N forced a smile alongside that little white lie.
He sighed, “…Alright, what’s going on?” He placed a place on her tensed shoulder, rubbing it soothingly, gently.
Cornered. Y/N didn’t have a choice, “Do you…Do always mean it when…fuck- when you s-say you-um- want to have a child with me?” She said without breaking her eye contact to the floor.
You didn’t have to say it like that, fucking hell
Alastor’s movements froze. “…a…um…” His smiled turned strained, “-a spawn?”
Y/N teared up. there was no way she was getting out of this one.
She whimpered, “…sorry.” before her hands shot up to her face, Alastor grabbed her wrist-
“I would love to. Y-You know I am a man of my word…” Alastor confessed with a chuckle, “-But…only if you are comfortable with it, mon amour.” Alastor went to her eyes level to try and meet her eyes.
Y/N froze. Her tears stopped.
…Holy fuck.
Y/N looked at him, to search for any disapproving emotion in his eyes.
None.
“…I-I want to.” Y/N confessed back, “…too.”
Alastor’s smile softened, he pulled Y/N with ease into him lap, “I’m glad,” and immediately kissed her.
The kiss was soft, sensual, gentle, even. Alastor’s hands began to roam under her shirt once she opened her mouth for him.
Alastor broke away from the kiss for a moment, a string of saliva connecting to their lips, “Y/N…?” he tugged on her shirt.
Oh god, what do i say?
“…Is there something wrong?” Y/N silently panicked.
Alastor widened his eyes for a moment but then softened his demeanor, “You shirt. Can i take it off?” He kissed her lips once more.
Fucking idiot. A brain dead patient would’ve known what that meant.
“…Yes.” She smiled nervously as he broke the the kiss.
Alastor nodded before bunching the hem of her shirt in his claws, “arms up, dear.”
As Y/N put her arms up, letting him gently take off her shirt, Alastor noticed how she was…wearing lingerie.
The lingerie that she wore the night before.
see what i did there
As Y/N put her arms down, she noticed how Alastor was staring at her under garments…
That she didn’t change from last night.
Y/N squeaked and ripped the bra off her body, tossing it away and into the bayou.
Now you’re bra-less.
Y/N slowly look up at Alastor, afraid he was going to scold her for not caring about her hygiene and stuff like that.
Alastor had always scolded her for skipping certain chores to, ‘take the weight off Alastor and Nifty’s shoulders’ whether it be showers, making the bed…laundry.
Dirty landry.
Alastor sighed, “I love you, Y/N,” He laughed softly, “-my clumsy doe.” He finished the sentence with a lustful growl, his claws tickled down her spine, arching her back.
“…I…I love you, t-“ almost immediately, Y/N was pinned down into the center of the bed, Alastor lips crashing onto hers like a starved man.
Fuck yeah, it was hot.
Alastor began to knead his claws at her breasts, squishing them so.
he grinder himself to her clothed core, making her throb for his touch, some contact. It almost felt like all those other times.
…but…it didn’t feel right.
Alastor, after needing a breath of air, noticed the tiniest hint of this, and grown worried,
“Are you alright, dearest?” He checked in.
She was unsure. Yeah, she was in the mood…but she just felt nervous, and he felt so confident.
“…anything i could do?” Alastor questioned once more, still hovering over her, his antlers slightly sizing down.
Think, Y/N, you were fine before, what was he doing before…
“…can you um…be gentle?” She winced, thinking that she sounded like some kind of needy loser. Oh, lord-
“-Why…o-of course, mon cœur.” he reassured, rubbed his thumbs over her small, plush breasts because kissing her once again.
Nothing could have compared more to how satisfied Alastor felt when she moaned.
It wasn’t a pornographic moan either, it was…natural. needing, almost.
Once Alastor slipped his tongue into her awaiting mouth, he began to unwrap his robe, tossing it to the ground and leaving his chest bare for her.
She gasped, “Oh, Al…” before she could wrap her arms around his neck, she felt him tug at her loose shorts,
“May I, darling?~”
Y/N nodded like a frantic woman, lifting her bottom up so he could take off her shorts, awaiting to find her panties completely soaked.
He pushed her bottom down with ease, “Dear, you seem to be completely moist,” Alastor commenting with the low vibration of static in his voice, making Y/N blush frantically. “Tell me, what turn you on so much? Perhaps…” Alastor swiped a finger through her panties, making her yelp. He then brang it back up to his mouth and licked itc moaning softly, “…was it my switch in demeanor?”
Y/N clenched as the sight. Alastor scooted back and lowered herself to her pussy, licking her slowly through the cloth guarding her. When he got to the location of her pearl, he pushed his tongue down onto it, receiving a moan from the receiver.
But his tongue wasn’t enough at the moment.
She wanted more.
“N-no…please, Alastor…I want you.” Y/N pleaded. she was impatient, she couldn’t just sit there and go through what was the usual.
She needed more.
He growled. “Anything for you, ma lumière.” Like an inpatient man, he tapped the bottom of her butt, signaling her to raise it. She did so, and almost immediately did he swiped her panties off of her, resulting in a gasp from Y/N.
Alastor crawled over so his pelvis was just on top of her. standing straight on his knees.
Alastor unbuttoned his silk pajama pants, his hard cock springing free right out of his boxers.
Nothing could have prepared Y/N from how big it looked.
Estimating, it was probably 7.5 inches minimum, and have mercy on her-
It was seriously…thick.
She looked up at Alastor worried. Alastor noticed this and softened his expression,
“You’ll be okay. I’ll go slow for you.”
Y/N nodded, but it certainly didn’t make her feel any better. She was still clenching her womanhood as well, just slightly at the thought of how bad this might hurt.
Alastor sighed. “The safeword is…stop.” Alastor told her. Hopefully that would make her feel safer.
…she opened for him.
When Alastor looked down to examine her, he saw how each second she opened, her juices would stick to her pussy’s lips in strings.
His dick physically throbbed more.
After hooking her legs up and around her waist, he lowered his body down more so that his cock was in lined with her vagina.
Slowly, he rubbed his length up down down through her folds, collecting as much natural lube as he could for her pleasure.
-But the sounds definitely weren’t helping, making Y/N face glow a darker tint of red than before. So, she just zoned out to the rumble of Al’s static.
What snapped her out of her zoning, although, was the burning of her hole, hissing in discomfort.
“Shhh…” Alastor hushed, “Just let me put the tip in, then i’ll stop.” Alastor, still, waited for confirmation.
Fucking pussy, Y/N thought, can’t even take the tip?!-
“o-okay.” She grasped onto his shoulder for an anchor in the pain. I can get through this.
Alastor still gave her a moment before shoving the full tip in, making her wince in pain, squeezing his shoulder.
Alastor hushed her again, “relax for me, darling…” he lowered his mouth to her left nipple, softly suckling on the nub, and effort to ease the pain. As Y/N released more moans, bringing one of her hands up to rub the lonely breast.
After a moment to let her settle around him, he pulled away from her nipple with a pop, bringing her hand back up to his shoulder.
“Just relax for me…” Alastor suggested before closely pushing some more length into her. “You,” he groaned, “You’re doing so good for me…”
How is she so tight?
Tears began to form in Y/N’s waterline. Alastor looked up at the sight and pondered what he could do. After a few moments, he stopped until he was just halfway into her, he leaned down once more to place his lips on her tears, her forehead, and then her lips, whispering affirmations in the middle of each kiss.
…was this too slow?
Y/N couldn’t believe her thoughts.
She pulled away from his lips to speak, “A-Al…put it in…i’m ready…” she requested with desperation in her tone, “i need all of you…”
Alastor looked up at him to spot a lie in the process, “Are you sure, my love-“
“Alastor, fuck me.”
That made Alastor moan, which then turned into a growl as Alastor subconsciously grew into a slightly bigger form of himself, snapping his hips with force into her.
Y/N cried out, but silenced Alastor before he could say anything, “S-Start moving, Al, please…” She took one of her hands off a shoulder to rub her nub, moaning softly as the newly added pleasure mixed with him slowly bottom out before snapping back into her.
He repeated this motion for a moment before slowly picking up her pace, making her moans short between thrusts.
“A-Alastor, ngh…” She called for him, grasping onto his shoulder once again. She tried to pull him down for a kiss.
“Use your words, m…mon cher.” he breathed and he kept his euphoric pace.
“K-Kiss me…” Y/N pleaded through her moans.
Alastor quickly leaned down to peck her lips before breaking the quick kiss,
“I’m gonna fill you…” He quickened his pace, his form becoming more menacing as his antlers grew, “with my seed.” He finished his sentence by smashing his lips onto hers.
As Y/N’s legs began to slip, he quickly used his tendrils to press them to her chest,
Positioning her into a breeding press.
“Ah…A-Alastor…I’m gonna-ah!” Alastor changed his pace to a brutal, electrifying one.
Y/N didn’t even care if he were to be gentle, she just wanted that sweet relief of relea-
“You don’t cum until i say so, darling.” a green shackle on Y/N’s left ankle appeared as a warning. “Understood? Those are our rules of the bedroom.”
He wasn’t wrong there. Those were the rules. He never wanted to feel under-powered in the bedroom at all, so that included orgasm denial.
And Y/N was completely fine with it.
But how quick and hard he’s hitting that far spot in her walls?
Just made her feel like there was no control.
“Alastor, please…” Y/N let tears she didn’t know we’re building up fell.
Alastor hushed her comfortingly, “Sweetheart-fuck-sweetheart, y-you’re almost there…” Alastor could feel himself knot inside of her,
…He wasn’t even sure that he was knotting until Y/N’s moans turned into groans.
He swiped some tears off her cheeks, “Mon cœr, you’re r-ready to cum?” he shot one of his tendrils down to her pussy, rubbing it at a rapid pace. Alastor leaned down to whisper into her ear, the static in his voice now on mute, “cum for me, then.”
That’s when the coil snapped.
The same time when Alastor spilt him seed deep into her womb.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
23:04 PM
Y/N was exhausted.
“Darling, i need you to sit up for a moment.” Alastor demanded.
Y/N groaned like a toddler.
“…fine.” Alastor put down the glass of water onto the nightstand, taking one knee and placing it sorely onto the bed to get closer to her, his shadow helping to lift her butt up as he wiped extra semen off of her.
after a moment of him disappearing into the bathroom, he came back looking neat and ready for bed.
…with a genuine smile on his face as his eyes met your tired ones.
Alastor went to the other side on the bed, sighing as he felt the soft surface under him.
He scooted closer to Y/N to get her under the blankets, dramatic, he thought as Y/N made a whine of protest again from the movement.
Once everything felt to his liking, he laid down next to her. and pulled her close, nuzzling his cheek into her hair.
“…Hey…Al?”
“mhm?”
“…I love you…”
He softened his smile, chuckling light-heartedly,
“…I love you two, as well.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
BONUS ☆♪
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Angel called from the other side of the lobby, walking over to Y/N, “Still up for that event thingy at the new bar? Heard that the sharks are blackl-“
Angel stared at the sight before him.
Y/N, laying on the couch with her legs slightly spread and a heating pad on the thighs.
“…Don’t-“
“Is it just me, or do i see you…a supposed to be virgin friend of mine…sore from a…” He examines the current position for a moment, walking around the couch to stand in front of her, “…breeding press position.”
Y/N stares at him like he’s her next target on a murder spree.
And which, he probably was.
“What? I’m and expert with this kind of stuff,” He pulls out his phone and sits next to you, “forget that I work for Valentino? Damn, how good was that sex?”
“Angel, if you want to keep the ability of having sex, be quiet.”
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END NOTES: I felt rlly devious making this fic 😍 But all jokes aside, i rlly need some writing tips since this is literally my first fic ever 😭
-Lynn
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episode one: the hellfire club
Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.”
Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol
Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)
Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !
–
March 21st, 1986.
Dear Y/N,
Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend).
I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond.
While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right.
I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.
A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.
Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good.
To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list:
Mike is visiting!
Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes.
You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says.
Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza.
Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!
I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you.
Love, El.
P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California.
–
Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters.
El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.
Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.
The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly.
Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.
Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.
For bug.
The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.
Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break.
“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”
“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed.
Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with.
“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”
You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”
“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee.
Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”
“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate.
You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”
“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”
“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers.
“Yikes, Dusty.”
“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”
“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”
“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”
“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes.
He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”
Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA.
You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius.
“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”
“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again.
You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”
“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”
“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”
You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.
But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club.
Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.
And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.
“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”
Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave.
Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.
“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.
“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet.
And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”
Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!”
“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”
You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”
“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”
“Eddie Munson.”
“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”
You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”
–
It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance.
Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household.
“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!”
“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”
“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that.
“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”
Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?”
You suck in a breath. “Steve…”
Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man.
While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after.
“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”
Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”
“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”
“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”
Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”
“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”
You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”
Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!”
“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.
Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”
“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why��has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous.
Which means it has to be about someone.
Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”
“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”
“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.
Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”
“I really don’t care–”
“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”
Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”
“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”
“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”
You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”
Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”
“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch.
“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”
“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind.
Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”
“True love’s side.”
Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”
“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.
“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend.
Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”
“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.
“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!”
Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”
“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”
You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”
“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”
You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.”
Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.
Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.
You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end.
–
The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.
“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”
“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”
He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.
On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.
Not the best combination, honestly.
With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.
The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.
The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you.
While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you.
“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”
“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”
“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.
Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.
Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.
In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.
You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet.
Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.
“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”
Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”
“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”
Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”
Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”
“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.
“He’s good with a bat.”
Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.
Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her.
The moment is sweet, it makes you smile.
Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’.
You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now.
But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary.
Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent.
You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.
Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.
Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne.
“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match.
“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.
Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin.
You’re the best of them.
“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”
Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly.
Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.
Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil.
You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience.
“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”
Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them.
This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.
You hate Jason Carver.
But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.
“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.
“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”
Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”
“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”
Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster.
You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike.
Goddamn Eddie Munson.
“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”
“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”
You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”
Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side.
A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.
Seems like a pretty easy decision to you.
Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”
You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”
“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”
“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”
Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”
Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high.
“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”
“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”
You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”
“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head.
“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”
Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”
“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.
“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”
“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be.
You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”
Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”
“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”
“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”
You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.
“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.
“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”
All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows.
For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”
It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”
Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”
The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions.
“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”
“What is?”
“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”
You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”
Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery.
They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.
–
Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary.
You’ll miss him when you graduate.
Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one.
“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day.
You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”
“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”
“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”
“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his.
You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”
“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for.
“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom.
“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”
Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”
Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too.
“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table.
“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.
You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana.
And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded.
Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.
Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin.
“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.
Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”
“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”
“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”
He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”
“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.
Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”
“No.”
“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies.
You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”
Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others?
“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.”
“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”
“No!” You scream at him.
The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified.
You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol.
You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother.
Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds.
By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.
Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.
–
You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him.
School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.
He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back.
For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.
“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd.
The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true.
The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster.
Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song.
Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”
“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash.
“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin.
You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”
Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot.
In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them.
But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself.
The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.
“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score.
You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jaosn tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.”
Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.
In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”
“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline.
Lucas is playing.
The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there.
“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.
Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.
Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.
“Sinclair did it!”
Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.
Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”
He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”
“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”
Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”
“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!”
Sin to win, Sinclair!
You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.
“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.
You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else.
“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.
For once, you can’t find the right words to say.
“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones.
You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.
–
Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time.
“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”
You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.
But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?
“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.
It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”
He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”
“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.
Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”
“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”
“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”
As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms.
“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked.
It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known.
The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.
And now Steve wants to do the same for you.
Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”
“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”
“You… you can’t.”
Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”
Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”
Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.
“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”
“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”
Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.
But he can’t see that right now.
“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”
You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”
“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”
“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with.
Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“Steve–”
“You were just going to leave me.”
He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”
“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.”
He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does.
Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true.
“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him.
Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke.
“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”
“I think you should go.”
The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”
“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”
Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely.
Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart.
It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”
“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow.
“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.
For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue.
The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling.
Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted.
“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.
“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”
His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate.
You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.
You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship.
Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud.
“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways.
“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”
Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”
He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”
“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”
His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.
He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed.
You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to.
Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.
“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”
“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”
You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull.
There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”
-
⌑ series masterlist
⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)
#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#bdyr#m's writing#SEASON 4 EVERYONE CHEER !!!!#also i dont hate eddie but bug does#lmao
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okay ngl, this is an ask I'm sending to multiple people because holy shit why did it pop in my head I need to see this written T^T
reader is part of !141 and is the only one who knows how to ride a motorbike, so she has to go undercover for a biker gang?? idk but just hear me out. Anyway she has no tattoos or piercings so they get her those temporary tattoos that last two weeks and some fake piercings (or real ones in case they fall off) and so none of the 141 know she's having this whole makeover, and when they get the big reveal I just want to know their reactions- I'm sorry I suck at writing, I'm just good at coming up with the ideas lmao. reading back my whole paragraph I realised how much I truly suck at typing, I apologise that you had to deal with this.
Ahhhh!!! I love this. I hope I did your idea justice and you enjoy it anon 🥹 If you want something a lil more racy let me know but I kept it SFW just incase
CW: None
Your body felt exhausted, thighs moulded to the chair as manicured hands rushed around your frame, prodding at your skin with brushes and wet rags, stamping your flesh with intricate designs. The woman’s voice was soft as she took in your expression, an understanding smile adorning her features as she assured you, they were nearly done.
“Voila,” she gasped, moving away from you as you stared at the mirror in front of you. Temporary tattoos snaked around the coil of your arms, muscles stamped with infamous gang signs and your nose and eyebrows dangling with metal jewellery as your fingers prodded at them, your face creased with slight discomfort.
“We’re going to need to get you dressed but you already look the part!”
You winced at the excitement in her voice, a slight simmer of humiliation broiling through you as you took in the look. You looked so… different. “Thank you,” you murmured, turning around to take in the large snake design that was entwined between your spine.
You felt like you were entering a pageant, constant hands smoothing out your skin and hair as you coughed at the lethal amount of hairspray. Grease dribbled down your chin as you choked down some food, disgusted huffs passing through the lady’s mouth as she ushered something about acting the part too.
“You’re all done, sergeant.”
You paced the room anxiously, wire taped to your chest, nestled in between your cleavage as you awaited the remainder of the task force. It was strange, the most they had ever seen you in was a pair of jeans and a simple top beside your military gear, the barracks were no place for fashion. Sweaty hands rubbed at the leather pants; slick stains of residue quickly brushed away nervously as you prodded with the facial piercings in the mirror.
“Hells feckin’ bells, Bonnie,” a swift voice whistled, Soap’s face charmed with a boyish grin, blue eyes sweeping across your exposed skin, “ain’ you a sight for sore eyes?”
“I look ridiculous,” you blurted, folding your arms self-consciously as the Scotsman tsked his tongue, smacking his lips together.
“Ye’ look good… lil too good for the task force, hen. Might need to find ye a new profession after this.”
You rolled his eyes at his playful tone, his lashes flickering as he took in the sight of you. A flirtatious whistle cut through the air as Gaz slapped his hand against the door, mouth wide. “Sergeant Y/N, that you under all those tattoos?” You bit back a bark as he smiled at you, tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips.
“You look good, [callsign]. Them bikers might wanna keep you to themselves.”
“We ain’ gonna let that happen, lass,” Soap jabbered, “Yer’ our girl, ain’ ya?”
Your reply was cut short by a pound against the door as a gruff voice snapped, “Oi, let’s move it. Don’t got all bloody day, Sergeants.”
Ghost’s eyes lingered over you for a moment, blonde lashes flicking up and down your body, pausing on every tattoo almost as if he was memorising them before he turned around, cold physique dusting through the hallway as you all followed. Captain Price was rambling through his headset to Laswell before he paused, dismissing himself as you all waltzed towards him.
A large Yamaha was sleeked against the exit, the tyres slightly worn to feign usage as you whistled lowly. “Got this all for me, Cap?” Your tone was sharp, admiring the ride before you as a tattooed hand wrapped around the leather handles.
“A biker looking like you ain’ gonna ride a shitbox,” he said, his voice holding an underlying meaning as he did a once over, “Y’ get in trouble in there and you call us in immediately, you understand [callsign]?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Take care of those tattoos after this as well, suit ya.”
A warm blush settled on the apple of your cheeks before you reached for the helmet, flattening your hair down as you secured it in place.
“Let’s get us a win.”
#evilgwrl#call of duty x reader#141 x reader#simon riley#ghost#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#141 au#simon ghost x reader#john price x reader#captain john price#john soap mactavish#john price#captain price x reader#price cod#soap#soap x reader#soap cod#kyle gaz x you#kyle gaz x reader#gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#141#poly!141#poly 141 smut#poly 141 x reader#poly 141
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It was hard enough to be taken seriously as a young woman in such a male-dominated field. You even had the added disadvantage of being particularly pretty. Younger men saw a potential date while older men, if not pervy, saw a girl which to them meant that you were ditzy and weak.
This particular client was a man. Maybe five years older or so, you guessed. When he opened the door, he seemed surprised. And you thought he looked at you a little condescendingly. But were you going to show him. You walked inside with an authoritative air, your tools by your side. Cool, calm, collected. You started working on his cabinet right away.
Thing is, normally clients tend to leave the room when you work. You know, since they have things to do and it’s awkward to stand in the corner for an hour. Didn’t bother him clearly. You felt him staring at you. For such a long time too that it became a distraction. You figured he was looking at your butt. The man was attractive, you had to admit, but it felt so disrespectful. You became flustered. How to make him go away? There was another reason you didn’t enjoy people staring at your butt. You happened to wear diapers.
You’ve always like diapers and you had decided to go 24/7 a few years back. This was generally not a problem. Actually, it was great when you were working because you didn’t need to use the client’s bathroom. But when someone watches you like a hawk exactly where you don’t want them to look, it tends to stress you out. And of course, of course, your diaper was peaking out.
You heard a little laugh.
“Oh. Little lady.” the man said. Little lady, really? “What’s that you’re wearing underneath those overalls?”
Either he’s used to asking women what they wear, either he was doing it just for you. Regardless, you didn’t feel like answering him.
“None of your business, sir.” You answered. In spite of his awful behavior, you wanted to remain professional.
“If you’re wearing, what I think you’re wearing, you shouldn’t be dealing with all those tools!”
“Sir, if you don’t let me finish my work in peace, I will leave.”
“Oh. Are we throwing a tantrum?”
A tantrum? Who the hell is this guy?
“Alright, sir, that’s enough.” You tried to leave, but he was bigger and stronger and blocked the entryway. He held your wrists.
“Sir, let me go.”
“Oh no, little lady. Work’s not done.”
He forcefully removed your overalls. Your medical diaper was exposed.
“Go on, keep working if you’re such an adult.”
You obeyed, but did so red and humiliated. Nevertheless, he never left the room. Not once.
You figured that he would need to leave the room at some point. But what you hadn’t accounted for was that you would need to go to the bathroom much sooner than he would. Normally, using your diaper was a pleasure. But in this situation, it certainly didn’t feel like that. Your bladder suddenly ached and while you tried holding it as much as possible, your bladder was too weak from years of going into diapers. You barely held out for a few seconds before leaking into your diaper.
“Oh no.” you said in a high-pitched voice under your breath. You were bending down to see the damage to your diaper. You had been completely and thoroughly humiliated. Brought down to nothing more than a baby who pisses her pants.
“Looks like princess went in her diaper! Good thing you were wearing them, baby!”
“I’m not a baby!” you bawled out.
“Shh-shh. It’s okay.” The man came to comfort you. You didn’t like him, but it did feel good to have strong arms around you. You felt safe. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s here. Daddy’s going to take of you from now on. No need to be a big girl.”
You liked being a big girl, but you had a feeling you didn’t have much of a choice.
Photo credit: Shantal from ByteMine
For more stories by me: https://reamstories.com/babywriter
#ab/dl caption#ab/dl stories#ab/dl girl#ab/dl#ab/dl community#diaper captions#ab/dl fiction#ab/dl diaper#diaper stories
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Omega mihawk, always getting mistaken for an alpha and hes ok with it, he surpresses his second nature anyways but when he met you he started to feel a way he hasnt felt since he first presented. Getting needy, wanting to be around you always, preening himself for you but of course its subtle he doesnt want to scare you away. The time his heat came it was hard, its been a long time since hes gone into heat and all he can think about is you.
When he saw you he immediately latched on, he should be embarrassed but not when you smell so good, all he can think about is your big cock and knot, your cum filling him up and getting him with pups, hed be such a good mother.
Anyways pregnant mihawk, hed have such a strong maternal instinct, i mean he already has 2 non official kids that he takes care of, so having more just fills him with so much joy. I believe hed be softer and a bit more touchy and loving because of hormones
I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCHBFKWJDJALKWHXLSOKWJXKPQJKDKXPWOUEJZLLQOWIZHQLOWIXHSK
- 😼
needy omega mihawk with a soft spot for reader?? 😼anon are you trying to kill me rn!!
mihawk who has to deal with stranded alpha! reader who smells so fucking good for some reason… he lets you stay in his room because he doesn’t trust you enough to let you wander around in the castle by yourself. and guess what. he wakes up to his own slick-covered thighs, panting hot and heavy and pumping out heat pheromones by the gallon… but what he doesn’t expect is that you have incredible self-control, even if you're fully exposed to his scent.
you're hazy-eyed and breathing equally as hard—the signs of heavy arousal, and yet you continue to nonchalantly set aside water and towels for him at a safe distance, leaving him alone at his most vulnerable.
mihawk falls. like really fucking hard. and then everything you said above ensues. sex. babies. marriage, probably. and supremely, the adoption papers.
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summary: stalker!rafe who saves pogue surfer!reader from the obx storm!
tw: stalker!rafe, dark!rafe but that’s just him tho, a storm, idk anything about boats or surfing
word count: 564
you were used to big waves. surfing is your life. you are no professional but you thought you could handle the obxs storms waves but turns out the roughness of the salt water was too much for you.
“hey hey it’s not safe out there come here i can help you get home,” a tall man yelled from his yacht, reaching out a hand for you. you felt stupid being out in a storm. when you lost the pogues and got pushed out to sea you knew your idea had become deadly so the strangers help might save you.
“here lemme help you. you are way too delicate to be out here in these tough waves, pretty girl,” rafe smirked, pulling you out of the water.
“i’m fine but i guess i’m used to smaller waves,” you said with an insecure giggle. “i’m y/n. um i live on the cut. you said you could get me home?” you said with a nervous smile, never meeting this handsome man before.
“why don’t you stay a while y/n? i got fresh clothes that you can wear and beer and snacks if you’re hungry. seriously whatever you want. i’m rafe.”
rafe was so excited to be around you. he’d been watching you surf from his yacht for months. staring at your body from a far wasn’t doing it for him anymore so when you took off your wetsuit rafe audibly moaned, standing up fast and coughing staring at your body in the pink bikini he only saw from a far distance.
“thanks, rafe but i need to get home. you’re really sweet but my friends will be worried since i got pulled into sea by the waves.” rafe made a fast excuse looking out on the horizon.
“i don’t think my boat will make it to shore. it’s just pouring now and it uh l-looks real bad. we um should probably just stay out here for the night.”
“are you sure because i think a yacht this huge can handle a storm like this.” you laughed staring at him confused.
“you think you know yachts y/n? you’re a pogue, stick to your surfboard,” rafe said laughing. you didn’t like his obnoxious joke but brushed it off.
“ya whatever, i’m a pogue. so what? can i get some clothes? i’m about to turn into a ice cube.” you rolled your eyes while walking down to the cabin exploring the living space of the boat. it was a scene straight out of a frat house nightmare, old beer cans and porn magazines.
amongst the clutter, a picture caught your eye: a girl in a pink bikini, surfing on a vibrant wave, laid provocatively on his bed. you reached out to inspect it, but he snatched it away before you could get a closer look “umm so you live here, rafe?”
“does it matter?” rafe frowned as you put on his old shirt and sarah’s sweatpants over your bikini, you asked “no but um where am i gonna sleep stranger? you know this is a major stranger danger situation right now.” you laughed, pointing at the both of you.
he smirked at your bubbly personality that he’d seen from afar as he would watch you at kook and pogue bonfire parties.
“next to me,” rafe said, watching your every movement. “no, that’d be weird. i don’t even know you. i’ll sleep on the couch, it’s no big deal,” you said so casually. mad at your rejection, rafe stood up, hovering over you.
“just seriously y/n. you can trust me ok? just stay in the bed with me, it’s cold out,” rafe said with intensity. as you noticed his blue eyes getting darker and his body getting closer, he gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “you know,” he whispered, his voice sending ripples of unease through you, “you always fidget with your necklace when you’re nervous, your fingers trace its outline when you’re anxious.”
your heart skipped a beat. how did he know about that? it was like he could read your mind. feeling exposed, you backed away. his gaze locked into yours, making you feel vulnerable and like he had uncovered parts of you that were meant to stay hidden. you noticed the storm seemed to be calming down since rafe pulled you up on the cameron’s yacht. a perfect getaway.
“you know what uh i- i can handle these waves. don’t worry about me. thanks for helping me though,” you said as you bent over to pick up your wetsuit and surfboard. he grabbed your bicep forcefully pulling you up. he thought of every excuse but couldn’t manage to create one.
“no, no you can’t leave ok.” rafe stated, grabbing you by the wrist firmly. “yo dude, don’t fucking touch me. i don’t even know you.” as you scoff at him, you look deep into his blue eyes and recognize him, letting his rough hands grip onto your waist. you couldn’t put your finger on where from.
“dont fucking dude me. god you are such a pogue. y’know you do know me. i’m rafe. i’m someone you can trust y/n. imma proactive person. if i wasn’t there to help you get out of those waves who knows what could’ve happened to you. i protect you. i’ve been protecting you for months for fucks sake and you don’t appreciate me.”
a/n: idk maybe a part 2 is needed??? send me ur thots!
#rafe cameron#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#drew starkey#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron concepts#rafe cameron x kook!reader#outer banks#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x oc#dark rafe x reader#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe x reader#stalker!rafe#rafe x oc#rafexsurfer!reader#rafe drabble#rafe headcanons#amandabthinks#rafe cameron angst#pogue!reader#surfer!reader#outer banks pogues#rafe fic#rafe fanfiction#drew starkey drabble#rafe cameron fluff#dark!rafe#rafe x you
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Ask Nicely (Master Anakin x FemPadawanReader)
Summary: Somedays you think your new master hates you and others… Well, let’s just say, you find out soon enough…when he expresses his disdain for you asking Obi-Wan nicely to take care of your needs.
Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because of all the lovely smut. Jealous Skyguy, rough fingering/kisses…and Ani’s thick digits. Padawan Reader is of age, 5 years younger than him.
“What’s the big deal? All I did was train with Master Kenobi,” you huffed. Rolling your eyes so hard that you wondered if they’d get stuck like that.
Anakin had been lecturing you nonstop for the last half hour. Starting from the minute he had practically dragged you out of the dojo…through the temple halls…back to your shared quarters. His strong hand wrapped firmly around your arm the whole way.
“For the fourth time this week,” he growled. Arms crossed as he leaned in the doorway, a frown on his face. “As your master, it’s my responsibility-”
“And you’re doing such a great job…” Having shed the last of your sweat soaked clothes, you began rummaging through your drawers. Back turned to him, not caring that you were standing there in only your undergarments. “…of neglecting those duties.”
You weren’t in the wrong, not in the very least. The two of you never had the greatest of relationships or, for that matter, one really at all. Constantly arguing and fighting, butting heads over anything and everything. Which grew worse when you abruptly became his padawan learner; to the point where you were verily certain that he hated you.
Or there was always something else that led you, made you want to believe…
Capturing your elbow, he easily whirled your around. “Listen here, it’s not my fault-”
“No, it is!” You snapped; jabbing your finger into his chest, refusing to stepdown. “You’re the whole reason why I have to go ask Obi-Wan nicely to help take care of my needs!”
Clearly striking a nerve, you watched as Ani’s jaw clenched tighter. Eyes narrowing at you, something dark flickering inside them. “Careful now; you don’t know-”
“Actually, I think I do,” you boldly interrupted once more. Mouth curling up into a sly grin, because you knew what you said next would anger him enough to either silence or… “You’re jealous! You can’t stand the idea of another man…let alone your old master…touching my body! Guiding me, teaching me how to move in ways that you aren’t able to!”
“Little one,” he snarled in warning. Shoving you back against the dresser, pinning you in place. Towering over your smaller frame menacingly.
You should have been terrified, horrified. Despite this though, you kept goading Anakin. “And his big hands felt so good resting on my hips… His fat cock pressing into my ass…”
Before you could continue, you were cut off by a quick, invisible squeeze to your neck. One that left you briefly stunned, speechless. “Yeah, yeah. We’ll see what you have to say about Obi-Wan after I’m done teaching you.”
Not even a second later and his mouth was slotted against yours in a fiery kiss. Biting sharply at your bottom lip, demanding entrance. All the while his mechno hand found its way to your breast, tearing the bindings off like they were nothing.
The moment the cold air hit your exposed nipples, you let out a small whimper. Allowing Ani to slip his tongue in, wrestling with and pinning yours down. Showing you who was in control, attempting to force you into submission.
You tried to pull away, but he held you fast to him. Organic hand gripping the back of your head, long fingers tangling and tugging your hair roughly. The other delivering a solid slap to each tit before he finally decided it was time to break apart.
Gasping, coughing for air. A desperate whine escaped you as he trailed his lips down your jaw, your throat; leaving an array of lovely marks in their wake. Until they wrapped themselves around a pebbled bud; sucking hungrily, biting lightly when your back arched in response. “M-Mast-ter.”
While he lavished your chest with hot kisses, Anakin’s hand followed the curves of your body. Brushing your clothed mound, chuckling once he felt how drenched you were. “Would you look at that; already so wet for me. Bet the old bastard can’t get you like this…”
Nipping a sensitive nub one last time, he had risen back up. Hand grasping your chin tightly, lips crashing against your in another searing kiss. Making you mewl softly, body trembling in anticipation.
“…or sound like that,” he growled low. Suddenly yanking your panties to the side, plunging two leather clad fingers into your cunt.
Squealing, you clenched hard around him. Walls fluttering from the foreign sensation, from being stuffed so full. Hips rocking back and forth in time with his painfully slow pumps. A squelching sound filling the air.
Wanting and craving more. All that pent up frustration had you already so embarrassingly close to crashing over the edge. That you were reduced to a mere babbling mess when Ani abandoned your mouth and pressed his lips to your neck again. Kissing the junction of it and your shoulder, tongue lapping at the tender flesh. A pleasant shiver running down your spine. “P-please…please…”
His pace picked up, thick digits thrusting deep with you. Bullying and bruising your cervix, muttering. “Oh, are you close? You want to cum?”
Panting, you nodded frantically. The heat inside of you overwhelming while you lost touch with reality more and more from each drive.
“Words,” he demanded. Adding the remaining two, slamming them brutally into your packed pussy. “Use them.”
“Yes, s-so close!” You squeaked, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment. “L-let me c-cum, master!”
At your words, he sunk his teeth in. Breaking the skin, hissing a ‘no’ as he abruptly withdrew his fingers. Pulling away, your fresh blood tinting his lips red.
A wild cry flew from your mouth. Sobbing at the denial, body sagging against the dresser. Hips bucking shamelessly in the air, trying to regain the pleasurable feelings that had been coursing through you.
Grabbing your ass, Anakin squeezed…smacked it hard. Smearing your slick across your freshly soiled panties. “Only good padawans get to do that…you haven’t been. Now, why don’t you try asking me nicely and maybe…I’ll help take care of your needs.”
Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @cacti5539, @wifeofasith, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen
#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen smut#anakin skywalker#anakin#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#star wars anakin#sw anakin#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin fanfiction#anakin smut#star wars#star wars prequels#star wars fanfiction#star wars smut#darth vader#darth vader x reader#dart vader fanfiction#darth vader smut
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As Iron Sharpens Iron
"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17
Beta-read by @dragonrider9905
Chapter 1:
Previous // Next
Warnings: Jealousy. Brief mention of blood. Canon violence.
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You couldn't even look at her.
That thought alone made you sick to your stomach. The fact that you couldn't bear to look at a woman simply because she was interested in the same man that you were, made you want to cry.
Am I really that shallow? You thought bitterly as you slammed the hydrospanner into the damaged component of the landing gear you’d been trying to dislodge.
I can’t believe I was so stupid! You jammed the point of the tool violently into a crack, trying to pry it out. Of course he’d go for her. She was prettier than you - funnier too.
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.
Hunter is his own man. He likes someone else. Not a big deal.
Except for some reason, judging by the heavy ache in your chest, it was a big deal, no matter how much you tried to fool yourself into thinking that everything was fine.
The landing gear piece was still stuck fast. You set down the hydrospanner and picked up the plasma cutter.
This better kriffing work or I’ll have Tech up my ass for a month about it. Not to mention having to tell Hunter that I broke the ship. Again.
You ran your fingers over the healing scar on your cheek and looked at the carbon scoring around the piece that stuck fast, fused in place by laser fire.
A smile made its way across your face as you remembered how it all happened. You were providing cover fire so they'd have time to escape - more exposed than you'd like to be, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle - until a stray shot hit the ship at just the right angle.
Hunter had tackled you to the ground, shielding you from the blast with his own body.
Despite the chaos around you, being in his arms felt safe.
“Don’t ever do that again!” It was meant to be an order but it felt different than any of the others he’d given over the past year. The way he’d taken your face into his hands, carefully examining the small, insignificant wound on your cheek. His face was unreadable but as you’d looked closer, his eyes were a whirlwind of relief that you hadn’t been hurt worse. There was something else there too - something that fed the hope hidden away in your core that your feelings toward him were reciprocated. He’d kept his hand on your arm as you stood up. They were strong, steady hands that kept you warm and stayed on your arm seconds longer than the moment demanded.
But then you’d found him in a closet with Phee’s sister only hours later at Cid’s parlour.
I’m so stupid. How could I have read him so wrong? What made me think I’d ever have a chance with a man like Hunter? You shook your head, angry at yourself for letting your guard down. For the first time since the beginning of the Clone Wars, you’d felt alive in a way that didn’t involve throwing yourself into violently dangerous situations. You felt at home with this band of misfit clones. You had finally allowed yourself to feel and acknowledge the emotions that came with it. Now you remembered why you hadn’t done that before. It was stupid and you would make sure that it wouldn’t happen again.
Finishing with the plasma cutter, you brought a wrench down hard with a loud clang. The piece barely moved an inch and you threw the tool down with a frustrated groan.
“You okay over there?” Phee poked her head around the corner, eyebrow raised.
“I’m good!” You grinned, hoping the faux smile would keep her from asking anymore questions. “Just trying to get this stubborn kriffing piece out so Tech can replace it when he gets back.”
Phee chuckled as you glared at the offending part. She walked over to the side of the ship, looking up and down at the stripped landing gear.
“Damn… what’d you guys get into this time?”
It was your turn to chuckle, grateful for the distraction from your spiraling negativity.
“That is a very complicated story,” Tech answered for you as he rounded the corner, “However, I do not currently have the time to tell it. We have another mission from Cid and should be leaving as soon as we’ve made our repairs.”
Good, you thought. Another mission might be just what you needed to get out of your head and back into the groove of things. Back to normal.
Tech stopped next to Phee in front of the landing gear, surveying the mess of tools and ship components. He frowned. “Although, it seems as though that may take a bit longer than I originally thought.”
He grabbed the hydrospanner from the ground by your feet and began prying at the piece you’d been working on. “I will fix this. You pick up the tools and get that carbon scoring off of those panels.”
Phee grinned as she began helping you scrape. “I love it when you get all bossy like that, Brown-Eyes.”
Tech’s cheeks darkened, the only indicator that he’d heard her at all.
You smirked. Tech and Phee were so different from each other. Her carefree sense of adventure and aptitude for playing fast and loose with the rules seemed opposite to Tech’s academic personality and rigid structure. But despite their differences, they seemed to bond over an innate sense of curiosity and wonder. They belonged together.
Like Hunter and I should be, you thought bitterly.
The silence that fell on the group as you worked was deafening. Every so often you caught Phee pausing to watch as Tech worked his magic with the repairs.
Tech remained oblivious, but found himself sending subtle glances towards her as she worked. Every glance felt like daggers through your chest. A reminder of what could have been yours.
“How’s it looking, Tech?” Hunter walked around the corner, setting a crate of explosives down for Wrecker to load onto the ship.
The knife you’d been using to scrape the panel suddenly felt heavy and clumsy in your hand. It slipped through your fingers as you frantically tried to catch it but failed as it hit the ground with a dull thud.
You gasped as a thin line of blood blossomed across your pointer finger and the palm of your hand.
“Kriff!” you grumbled under your breath. Hunter stepped forward quickly only to be intercepted by Phee who grabbed your injured hand, inspecting it.
“Eh, you’re fine,” she pulled a bacta patch from her pocket, quickly wrapping the injury as though she’d done it more than her fair share of times. “Be more careful with that next time,” she chided. You looked up expecting to see Hunter but he was gone.
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hihi! can i request corruption kink with jeno or hyuck?? if thats okay!
a/n: thank u for requesting!! i decided to do jeno bc i haven’t written anything for him yet oh and somebody else requested that i do something similar to my jaemin request with jeno so two birds one stone i guess? anyways enjoy!!!!! psa i got way more requests than i expected so thank u to everyone who sent im gonna try to get thru all of them as quickly as possible (if college doesn’t k!ll me first)
btw thank u for 400 followers! love u all
pairing: jeno x tutor!reader
wc: 2k
content: smut
warnings: cursing, fingering, masturbation, edging (kind of) , mentions of food (ice cream), big dick jeno ofc, backshots yuh!!!, rough sex, jeno is kinda too much in this lol, marking, cum eating, taking risky pics without consent, no after care, usage of pet names like pretty and baby *whispers* and whore. lmk if i missed any
masterlist
Jeno had always liked experienced girls. The kind he didn't have to treat with gloves, who were game for him to fuck so hard that they'd feel it afterward. At least, that's what he thought he was into.
Then you walked into the picture as his little brother's tutor. You were always polite and proper, wearing those buttoned up shirts and pencil skirts that gave off a more mature vibe than your actual age. He knew you recently graduated college, which he liked because you were older than him. But the thing is, you were incredibly innocent and naive. I mean, you didn't even catch on when his brother cracked those not-so-subtle, inappropriate jokes about you.
Jeno wouldn't usually spare a second thought for someone like you. After all, you couldn't even hold his gaze for more than a couple of seconds. So, why on earth was he now holed up in the bathroom, pumping himself to the thoughts of your ass in that skirt? Maybe it was because of how clueless you were, bending over the table to help his brother with his work, offering Jeno a perfect view of your perked ass. He tried to resist, truly he did, but it was hard, especially when your shirt hiked up, exposing the curve of your back.
Jeno had to make a quick exit from the living room, and now… Here he was, working up a sweat in the cramped bathroom trying to imagine your hand, or even your mouth, around his dick instead of his own. Imagining how he'd finish all over your face, leaving you in a state of shock and fluster, those big, innocent eyes looking up at him.
"Shit..." he whimpered shakily, the release of his pent-up load leaving him trembling as the white liquid ended up dripping messily all over the bathroom's curtain. This was getting ridiculous… he needed to fuck someone now.
A sudden knock at the door made him jump, his dick still exposed, flopping around as he hurried to check that the door was securely bolted. He quickly adjusted his pants, grabbed some toilet paper, and tried to clean up the mess as much as possible.
What he didn't expect was to find you standing there when he opened the door, holding a popsicle.
He vaguely remembered you saying something about getting ice cream for everyone because it was so hot. That was right before he had bolted upstairs to deal with his urgent situation.
The popsicle was melting, its crimson contents dripping down your hand and arm. Jeno couldn't help but feel like the universe was testing him, and he swore he felt his dick come alive again.
"Oh, sorry... Uhm... I kind of made a mess," you laughed airily but averted your gaze when the eye contact got a bit too intense "Your brother mentioned you guys had wet wipes in here."
"Uh, yeah, down there" Jeno finally responded after a few moments of silently staring at you. You bent down to check under the sink where he directed you, giving him another tempting view of your ass. You missed the quiet grunt he let out while discreetly adjusting the growing situation in his pants.
You straightened up after finding the wet wipes, looking somewhat torn between putting the popsicle down to clean yourself or eating it quickly. Jeno sensed your struggle and casually reached his arm from behind you to take the popsicle from your hand, allowing you to clean up properly.
"Oh, thanks," you said, using the wet wipes to clean your arms and the stained area on your shirt.
Jeno silently watched you in the mirror, his attention focused on the way the white shirt clung to your skin as you diligently worked to remove the stain. When you finally looked up, you found him eating the popsicle—the very one you had been licking just moments ago. Locking eyes with you, he noticed your bewildered expression and gave you a lopsided smile "It was melting."
"Oh..." you said quietly, the heat rushing to your ears revealing your flustered state.
You tried to return to your task, but he stopped you by suddenly grabbing your wrist. His own hand was now sticky from the melting popsicle. He pulled you closer to him and reached his hand to your face, using his thumb to rub against the corner of your lip "You got ice cream here too," but instead of withdrawing his hand after, he surprised you by slipping his thumb into your mouth.
You would have pulled back if you weren’t completely taken aback by what was going on.
With his finger still in your mouth, he playfully pressed the popsicle against your collarbone. The cold sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and your tongue brushed against his finger instinctively. The sight of your mouth enveloping his digit drove his self-control right out the window. He carelessly dropped the popsicle in the sink and leaned in closer, crowding your personal space with his larger frame. His cold hands sneaked under your shirt, and with a quick move, he unhooked your bra straps from your shoulders, exposing more skin for him to explore.
"Jeno... I don't think this is ri-..right,"
"Why not?" he asked, his face burying in your neck, coaxing soft whimpers from your lips.
"Your... brother... he—"
"He's probably busy googling the answers to his exercises, believe me, he doesn't need you back just yet” He assured, pulling you even closer against his hips, causing your skirt to ride up and reveal your panties.
“I knew you were a whore,” he tutted, realizing you were wearing black lace “You wear lingerie to tutor students?" he chuckled dryly, biting a smile as you attempted to cover yourself.
"I’m n–," you whispered, but your words were cut short as his teeth grazed against your skin, leaving marks and savoring the fruity taste left by the popsicle. He didn't bother with the buttons of your shirt, causing a few of them to pop open from the stretch.
Your bra had slipped down too, partially exposing your breasts.
“You like being used like this, don’t you?" he teased, leaning back to take in the sight of your disheveled appearance. Your bruised neck from the sucking and biting, the strands of hair that clung to your flushed face, and your lace panties on display.
He reached for his phone inside his pocket and snapped a quick picture of you in that state. Your expression instantly shifted to one of panic.
"What… are you doing?" You tried to slide off the sink, but he pressed back against you, his hips pinning you in place.
"Don't worry, this is just for me to enjoy later."
Then he kissed you, shushing any protests you had. His hand crept undetected inside your skirt and under your panties, his index finger gingerly spreading your folds. The action made you gasp against his tongue and then, without warning, he inserted a finger. The intrusion made you try to press your thighs together but he was standing between them so it was impossible. Every time he pumped his finger inside, his hips rutted against you, and you could feel the tent forming in his sweatpants brushing against your clothed core.
“…‘m gonna fuck you like no one ever has before,” He groaned against your lips.
He intentionally slowed down to a pace that almost seemed teasing as the knot in your stomach became almost unbearable. But given how shameful this situation already was, you didn’t want to ask for more.
"Are you that desperate for cock, hmm baby?" Jeno asked as you instinctively tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants to bring him closer and relieve the friction.
His finger pumped a few more times before he completely withdrew it. The emptiness immediately made you whimper.
"I'll give you what you want then," he replied as he reached into his sweatpants and casually pulled out his dick. You didn't want to stare like a pervert but... wow. You felt your legs quiver just from its sheer size. There was no way in hell you could take that.
You found it difficult to imagine how anything that big could fit comfortably inside of you.
The smug smirk on his face told you that he liked your reaction "Clearly never seen one so big,"
"Jeno, I can't… we shouldn’t"
"But what kind of gentleman leaves a lady who is obviously in need?" He said cynically as he pulled down your panties.
No more words were necessary, the tension that had been building reached its peak as he aligned himself with your entrance. Jeno tried not to show any vulnerability, but the way your walls tightened around him, even though he was barely inside, was driving him crazy.
As he gradually entered you, soft, breathless gasps escaped your swollen lips. Your hands clung to the sink, keeping you from losing your balance. He stretched you so intensely that it made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You knew it defied anatomical possibility but as he bottomed out, you had a feel that if you touched your lower belly, you might just be able to feel him there.
“'m gonna move," he said through gritted teeth, more like a statement than a question. And with that, he started to thrust, not giving you much time to get used to the feeling of being so incredibly full.
As his hips met yours in a rough rhythm, he mumbled praises while also calling you things you'd never tolerate from anyone else.
"You feel so tight... for me," he groaned, his hand reaching for your face so you would look up at him.
“Eyes up here, doll,” he said in a breathless tone, the pace so fast and rough that it left no room for coherent thoughts. The knot in your stomach twisted, sending waves of almost painful pleasure through you. Your entire body buzzing with his desperate movements.
“J-..J-..Jeno…” His name was the only word that escaped your lips, each thrust causing your voice to quiver.
Suddenly, he lifted you by your ass and turned you around to face the misty mirror. Both your reflections appeared hazy in the condensation-covered glass so he messily wiped it with one hand and then resumed his thrusting. Now, you could see the way your expression changed each time he hit that spot deep inside you.
He continued fucking into you relentlessly, whispering how you would remember the outline of his cock by the time he was finished. His saliva-slicked lips left wet trails on the skin beneath your ear. From this close proximity, you could even hear the soft moans he struggled to suppress.
Suddenly, a thought flashed through your mind, and with a hoarse voice, you pleaded, "Jeno... don't cum inside."
He hummed against your hair but continued ramming into you, and for a moment, you thought he hadn't heard you. However, just as your orgasm swept over you, he pulled out. You sighed in relief and rested your forehead against the steamy mirror, seeking a few moments of calm.
But Jeno had other plans and wiithout giving you a moment to catch your breath, he turned you around and had you on your knees. You looked up at him confused until he aligned his cock with your mouth.
"Open wide," he said, and with no energy left to complain, you did as told.
You expected him to shove his dick into your mouth, but instead, he stroked it a few more times before releasing his load all over your face. Most of it landed in your mouth, but some also splashed onto your cheeks and chin.
"Swallow," he said with a commanding tone, a stark contrast to the way he gently stroked your face.
You complied, taking in as much as you could. You even used a finger to collect the excess and popped it into your mouth. Savoring it much like you did when you licked the ice cream off his finger. Jeno bit his lip, trying to contain himself before he fucked you thrice more against the wall.
“Go ahead and clean yourself, pretty. You got a lesson to finish," he said, adjusting his sweatpants. And with one last chaste kiss on your lips, he left the bathroom.
#nct#nct x reader#nct dream#nct dream x reader#nct smut#nct dream fic#nct dream imagines#nct imagines#nct dream scenario#nct dream smut#jeno smut#jeno#jeno scenarios#jeno imagines#jeno x reader#nct jeno#hyuckiereqs
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Soundproof room
Jungwon x fem reader
18+ Minors DNI!
Jungwon brought his gf with him to usa~
Right after the sound check, you started talking to the members about their concert later. Jungwon sat on the couch, not taking his eyes off you and not listening to a word you're saying either. Outofnowhere, in the middle of the discussion, Jungwon stood up, "I need to talk to you privately," he said loud enough so that the members could hear. Not really having a choice as Jungwon gently grab your hand and direct you to a small private room.
"What did you have to talk about that you just can't talk about it with the members?" You starred at him a bit annoyed.
"Fuck" he said under his breath ad he grabbed your hand dragging it down from his body down to the his pants. You felt his obvious hard arauosal through the material of his pants. You quickly understood. He leaned in to give you a kiss. You both started making out, and your kisses slowly trailed down to his neck. He slowly grinds his hips to you, you felt his hard cock underneath the clothes.
"Wait! jungwon, should we really do this right now? The members are just outside.... What if they hear us?" You stopped him, he groaned in frustration.
"They won't, this room is soundproof. Besides, we won't take long, right?" he said as he continued slowly kissing down your collar bones. You moaned softly to his ears.
"Don't leave a mark," you warned jungwown. He started sucking gently enough to not leave a mark but hard enough to hear you moan.
Your hands made their way to his buldge again. You started to palm him through his pants. He let out a small moan as he had been waiting for this moment all morning. You watched his eyes flutter, and his head tips back, exposing his throat.
You lean forward tempted to leave a small mark on his pretty skin before you stopped yourself when you remember he have to perform after this. A little bruise won't be a big deal. You thought. Jungwon's hips jerked up to your hands as a whiney moan leaves his lips. You manuever him to where he's between your legs, back to your chest.
You move your hand back to his pants only this time you slipped your hands inside. He moaned loudly because of the sudden skin on skin contact. "Let me take care of you" you said as you slowly start so stroke his hard cock. "Won, you're always so good for me," you began to whisper in his ears while you jerked him off.
The exposed part of his stomach clenching in every stroke of your hand. You can tell he's close to his orgasm. You make your first a bit tighter, focusing more on the head of his length, jungowm groans loudly.
You heard jungwon's breath hitch in his throat, his moans and whines becoming progressively higher, his mouth gaped open. One last stroke of your hand, and he cums, on your fist and his stomach, some reaching his red checkered shirt. You gave him a kiss on the cheek, whispering praises in his ears.
"That was so good," he whispered in your ear. "Shit, I got some on my shirt," he said, looking at his shirt.
"At least you're not performing with this one, you'll wear one of the merch anyway," you smiled.
You slowly started to unbutton his shirt before you heard a knock. It was time for jungwon to sit for his make-up and change clothes to perform.
Before you open the door, Jungwon looked in the mirror, seeing the big mark on his neck you gave him. "What is this?!" He pointed it out to you.
"What? I couldn't help it, shit I didn't realise it's that noticeable... stay here" you told Jungwon. You quietly get out of the private room looking around to see if anyone saw you.
"You know that room isn't sound proof right" you jumped at the sudden voice, sunghoon standing there with his arm crossed.
"What?! Sunghoon, you heard us?"
"Not only me, anyone who walked past here would've heard you two," he laughed.
You faked laugh a bit embarrassed, you remembered Jungwon saying the room is soundproof... you make your way to the makeup table, grabbing colour correctors and foundation.
--------
You sat there watching jungwon doing his send-off. He's so cute, especially him speaking English.
Once he's done, he came straight to you, wearing a cute charizard headband a fan gave him and some bracelets. You give him the biggest hug "I missed you!" You said.
"I missed you too. Let's go to the hotel, I'll make you feel good, like you did to me this morning," he whispered in your ears. You hugged him tighter.
-----a/n-------
This one's a bit short~
#enhypen#jungwon#jungwon smut#enhypen smut#enhypen hard hours#jungwon hard hours#yang jungwon#jungwon fluff#jungwon hard thoughts#jungwon x reader#enhypen fluff#jungwon fanfic#jungwon smau#jungwon scenarios#jungwon enhypen#jungwon imagines#jungwon oneshots#enhypen oneshots
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𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 - han jisung x gn!afab reader (side lee minho x gn!afab reader)
wc: 5.6k
rating: 18+. MDNI
cw: best friends fuckin, gender neutral pronouns used but reader is afab, jisung being stupid, minho being slay, smut warnings under the cut!
synopsis: after spending a night with the man of your dreams, your best friend won’t look you in the eyes or reply to your texts. what did you do wrong? nothing - he just wants you.
a/n: part two of the fratboy series!! i really hope you guys enjoy this one bc bratty ji means so much to me :D
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
sw: ji is a brat, reader is dom in this one, READER IS MEAN (JISUNG LOVES IT), face slapping, oral (reader rec), dirty talk, degradation (ji rec), pussy drunk!jisung, cum eating, slight edging (both)?
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You woke up the next morning feeling incredibly satiated, for once in your life. Minho had managed to fulfill a lot of kinks that you didn’t even know you had, realistically, and you praised yourself for being so dumb to announce that you wanted to be his sex slave last night. The dominant man had given you more than enough attention, and you knew you’d want to come back for more.
Waking up in Minho’s bed didn't feel strange, weirdly enough. He’d headed out early, and left you a little plate consisting of a tall glass of water and a snack with a note saying that he had to leave for his shift at work, and that he was sorry. You grinned at the note. He was courteous enough to do that even after fucking your brains out the night before. You’d eaten the snack - a simple assortment of fruits - and downed the water, before heading home for the day.
After a shower and a clean outfit a lot more casual than what you’d worn the night before, you felt fresh and ready. Well, as fresh and ready as you could be considering you’d tried to phone and text your best friend multiple times since leaving the frat house and he’d literally been ignoring you.
You blinked down at your phone, seeing another text sent by you to Jisung that had simply been left on read. You’d even tried to phone him, but he’d let it go straight to the answering machine. After the third ‘this is legendary rapper J.One, spit bars after the beep’, your patience had run thin. You were confused, obviously, because what the fuck had you done to bother him so much? He was fine with you sleeping with Minho last night, and he honestly had no right to be angry about it when him and Felix had been so fucking persistent about it. Speaking of, you wondered if the resident sunshine had any idea what you’d done to the other member of your triad.
You quickly went onto the contacts app, clicking Felix’s name that was fortunately close to the top, given your late night group FaceTimes with Jisung. He answered almost immediately.
“Hey, angel. What’s up?”
You blanched. You hadn’t gotten this far in your plan. “Hey, Lix. I was just wondering, um… have I done something to annoy Jisung? He’s like, completely leaving me on read when I text him and he’s refusing to answer any calls.”
Felix went silent at the end of the line. “Oh, right. Yeah.”
“... What does that mean?”
“His room is next to Minho’s, you know, and he was in bed when you fucked Minho. He woke up not too long after you put him to bed,” his deep voice was anything but comforting. “He heard everything.”
“Oh. Okay. Why is this a problem?” You three knew everything and anything about each other, and you’d literally exposed your undying lust for his older frat brother the night before. What’s the big deal? Also, given the state Jisung was in last night, you were honestly shocked he remembered hearing anything, let alone actually waking up. You’d actually thought he’d be out for the count, sleeping all day and nursing a horrific hangover after too many of his Hanji Supremes.
“Well, you know Ji. He’s insanely horny. It turned him on and now he’s terrified to look into your eyes because he’s thinking about it.”
Oh. Oh. He was thinking about you and Minho? Was it Minho he was focused on, or you? You went silent on the line, and after a few times of Felix repeating your name to get your attention, you finally answered.
“Right. Right, yeah. That makes sense. Thanks for clearing that up, Lix,” you replied, still quiet. You weren’t too sure how to address it. “What do I do?”
Felix’s deep chuckle resounded over your tinny phone speakers. “Apart from fucking him senseless, I don’t think anything else could help him here unfortunately.”
You raised your eyebrows. Had you thought about that before, fucking your best friend? Of course you had. You were no stranger to Jisung’s sexual preferences in bed, knowing that he liked to be a brat and be treated a little meanly by someone powerful. ‘A little’ being an understatement, actually. It was something you were no stranger to, and honestly, you knew that if you ever wanted no-strings-attached sex, it would be Jisung you’d go to. No thought needed on that one. You knew Felix was probably joking, but it was making you think on the topic. Could you do it? Could you fuck your best friend?
Yeah. Yeah, you could. It had you wondering if Minho would mind, but you quickly shook that thought out of your head. You’re not together. You can have a bit of no-strings-attached sex with your friend.
You hummed, nodding. “Okay. I can do that.”
“W-Wait, Y/N, I was-” You hung up the line, a determined set to your jaw. You were gonna go to that frat house and find out what the fuck had gotten up Jisung’s ass - if Felix was right, then he was going to have the time of his life. If he was wrong, then you had another situation to solve, which would be no problem. You had some weird feeling that Felix was right, though.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You arrived at the frat house, narrowing your eyes at the front door. Something about it seemed so offending to you. The fact that one of your two best friends was in there right now, wallowing in loathe and hatred for you just because he wanted you to be mean to him? You could do that. You knew that you could be a little mean. You also knew that you were making some vast assumptions. You swung open the door, not caring about knocking, and started to storm up the stairs to Jisung’s room.
“Damn, Y/N, back for more already-” You ignored Seungmin’s quip as you stormed up the stairs, and swung open Jisung’s bedroom door. It was messy, as usual, clothes strewn everywhere that were probably both dirty and clean. Random cans of pop were sitting on his desk and his skateboard was propped up against the wall, looking like it had seen better days. His bed wasn’t even made. You resisted the urge to chastise him on the mess and instead stared straight at his sitting figure, hunched over the desk staring at his laptop, his large over-ear headphones resting on his head. The music production major hadn’t even noticed you’d come in, head bobbing to the beat blasting through the headphones. He was in work mode.
Fuck work mode. You stormed over, ripping the dark blue headphones off his head and throwing them onto the desk. He turned to you, round eyes immediately widening further and jaw dropping slightly. His cheeks had already begun to burn crimson. You felt a bit bad, sighing at his facial expression. You were becoming soft already. “Sungie, honey, what’s wrong? What did I do?”
“I-” Jisung stared at you. He was unable to form words, tugging at the sleeves of his oversized black hoodie. “Nothing. I didn’t expect- why- you’re here?”
You raised your eyebrows. You weren’t too convinced that Felix was right anymore, with Jisung being a ball of nerves and anxiety in front of your very eyes. You immediately started rambling, unable to stop yourself. “Yes, I’m here, because my best friend was leaving my texts on seen and wasn’t picking up my calls. Which you never do, you can’t ever shut the fuck up. You can’t blame me for thinking I’ve done something wrong here, Sungie. You didn’t seem to mind last night, and I’m sorry if I made it weird by sleeping with Minho, but-”
“N-No!” Jisung stammered out. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his joggers, before throwing his head in his hands and sighing. He looked about five seconds away from kicking out his feet and screaming. “Not done anything wrong. You haven’t, I mean. I have.”
You were no stranger to Jisung when he was like this, stumbling over words and not able to get his point across. You sat cross legged on the floor in front of him, just patiently waiting, speaking with a soft voice. “Just tell me, Sungie. Is it something we can fix?”
“Yeah. No. Yeah. Okay. Maybe. Like, so… you’re gonna think I’m a freak.”
“I always think you’re a freak, Jisung.”
Jisung scoffed, flicking your forehead. He spun on the computer chair to face you. “Shut up. Do you want to know or not?” You nodded eagerly, resting your hands on his knees. He looked at your hands as if they’d offended him, as if they’d framed him for murder or something. “I- I- Okay. Okay! Haha. Yeah. Okay, so basically, I heard you and Minho last night. Room’s next door, y’know?”
You pursed your lips. “Makes sense. Thin walls.”
“Thin walls,” Jisung agreed, nodding. He looked dazed, eyes fixating on the wall behind you. He ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the strands in hesitation. “It’s just- you know. Minho was mean.”
“Y-Yeah.” You tried to avoid thinking of last night with Minho as if it hadn’t plagued your dreams afterwards anyway. In reality, you were getting sick of this conversation. Surely he could give you a little more here? You weren’t a mind reader.
“Yeah. He was mean. I guess it… yeah, okay, it turned me on. I wanted to be… like that,” Jisung mumbled. He was still staring at the wall, but his eyes were narrower, as if he was really focusing on something. Probably the memory of what he’d heard. “Not like Minho. I wanted to be like you.”
You raised an eyebrow. “You… wanted to be like me? With Minho? That’s okay, Jisung-”
“No!” He practically screamed, jolting up off the chair. He started to pace, running his hands through his hair even more, before shaking his head. He pointed at you with an incriminating stare. “Well, I wouldn’t be opposed. But I was thinking of you as Minho, and me as you. You get me?”
You almost gasped out loud. So, Felix was right. “Y-You want me to be… mean to you, Jisung?”
Jisung stopped pacing. He was almost vibrating with nerves and excitement. “I- Yeah. Yeah, I do. I know it’s weird, because you’re my best friend, but I-”
You found yourself speaking before you’d even planned on saying anything. “Did that get you all hot last night, Sungie? Did you jerk off hearing me and Minho, and wishing it was me being nasty to you?”
Jisung blinked. For a moment, you thought you’d gone too far, and his round eyes simply stared directly into your soul. You began to speak, to apologize, to say anything to diffuse the tension, but Jisung was shifting on his spot, jumping from foot to foot. He started pulling at his joggers, lithe fingers yanking the fabric every which way and- oh.
Oh. He was hard. Painfully so.
It hit you then, how much you wanted your best friend. You’d always been attracted to him, you weren’t blind, but you’d always strictly put each other in the friendzone. Maybe some friendly fun could be okay? It was convincing when he stood in front of you, all messy chestnut hair and pouty lips that begged to be kissed, maybe even bitten. He was pitching what looked like a very uncomfortable tent in his joggers, sweater paws pulling at the cotton uncomfortably.
You let out a breath of air, staring at his bulge. If you squinted just right, you could probably see the definition of it. “… J-Ji, do you want to…?”
“God, Y/N, please.” With those words, you shot up from your seated position and pushed him up against the wall, his back hitting it with an almost silent thud. He gripped your shirt immediately, clenching his fingers tight around the cotton and looking as if he was going to burst out of his own skin at the anticipation. You slammed your lips together, teeth clacking and making the kiss not at all friendly but the whine Jisung let out was worth it. You could smell his cologne, something that smelled faintly of flowers but still so Jisung.
He breathed heavily into the kiss as you pressed your tongue into his mouth, using one hand to reach up and pull on his hair softly. He whined again at this, hips just barely moving forward from the wall in an attempt to gain friction. Desperate, you mused, and the revelation didn’t shock you at all. You pressed your body further against his, pinning him against the wall covered in miscellaneous rap posters and hearing the paper crinkle behind him. You pulled away from the kiss, just letting your head stay close to his so that your wet lips were still brushing against his pouty ones to tease him. It worked - he looked like he was about to die if you didn’t kiss him again.
Tentatively, you took your hand from his hair and moved it downwards to wrap around his neck, squeezing the sides. You could feel his heartbeat, quick and heavy against your fingertips. His cheeks were flaming, bright crimson and his chest heaving underneath the thick fabric of his hoodie.
“P-Please. Please, I- Been good, I’ve not been bad, not been a bad boy-“ You huffed at his babbling, shoving your free hand down his joggers. When meeting the lack of boxers, you laughed internally. It was just so Jisung to work on music with no underwear on. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had nothing under his hoodie either.
You tightened your fingers in a ring around the base of his length instantly, brushing past the smattering of dark hair on his pubic bone. He was thick, heavy in your hand and absolutely pulsing with need. He instantly let out a rather high pitched moan and writhed, trying to fuck into the tight ring you’d created around his cock. “You’ve not been bad, huh? Explain to me why such a good boy was jerking off to his best friends fucking last night then, Sungie.”
Jisung writhed, hands flying up to grip your shoulders. You started to jerk him off at a languid pace, taking your time and staring into his eyes. He looked like he was trying to answer, brain running a hundred miles per second but no words came out of his mouth, only incoherent babbles. You raised your eyebrows mockingly. “Good boys fucking answer when they’re asked a question.”
Jisung simply blinked at you, unabashed moans still tumbling out from his dropped jaw. His eyes were darting between your hand, still moving at a slow pace, and your eyes, soft but menacing. You tore your hand away, his fingers immediately digging into your shoulders in protest.
“N-No! No, didn’t- I didn’t mean to, was just- hnng.” He was struggling to get his words out, toes curling in his socks against the carpeted floor and his eyes watering with tears. “Please. ‘M so hard, Y/N, please. Fuckin’- make me cum, Jesus-”
“I know you’re fucking hard, obviously I can see that. It’s pathetic,” you scoffed. “Get on the bed. Don’t make me repeat myself again.”
The doe-eyed boy nodded frantically, throwing himself onto the bed. He sat down, gripping at the hem of his sweatpants.
“Off. Take ‘em off,” he mumbled, staring up at you with a glint in his eye. Oh, he was doing this shit deliberately, wasn’t he? Why couldn’t he just take them off himself? “Please?”
“Fucking brat,” you muttered. You were in disbelief, in all honesty. Your best friend was a slut. It almost made you imagine what Felix was like in bed, if he’d be good for you or if he’d be an absolute brat like Jisung, or maybe he’d want you to be good for him like Minho did. You leaned forward, gripping his cheeks between your thumb and your index finger. His cheeks squished together comically, but he was still looking at you expectantly. You almost folded when you realized. “You want me to slap you?”
“Fucking- yes,” He groaned, trying to nod frantically, your fingers preventing him from doing so. You pulled your hand back, reaching back and delivering a slap to his round cheek. He immediately reeled with the sensation, bucking his hips up into thin air. “O-Oh. Yeah. Harder, harder, hit me harder-“
“You are so fucked up,” you said, in full shock. Your eyes were wide but you tried to hide it, shaking your head and sighing. You gave him another firm slap to his cheek, the same one, making him whine. “You are so fucked up, Jisung. You like being slapped in the face?”
He looked up at you, a stupid grin on his face. His cheek was smarting red from the abuse. “You’re even more fucked up. You like slapping me-“
You pushed him down by his shoulders, yanking his joggers off with one hand and keeping your other hand on his upper body to keep him still. He immediately yanked at the fabric of his hoodie, and you sighed, releasing your grip on him for him to pull that off too.
Immediately, planes of milky skin were exposed to you, the hinting of abs underneath his skin from gym nights with Changbin making you feel like you could drool. His cock laid hard against his tummy, hard and leaking amidst the hair adorning his pubic region. He was so fucking shameless. He was getting off from you hurting him, and being mean to him, and he didn’t give a fuck about it.
Jisung smiled, revealing his pearly white teeth. He leaned up on his forearms. “Like what you see?”
“Oh my God, do you ever shut the fuck up?” Jisung shook his head at your words, still smiling. You rolled your eyes, pulling your t-shirt and sports bra off with ease and revealing your chest. His eyes immediately went down to the exposed skin, his smile dropping. It was your turn to smile. “Maybe if you’d have been good, I’d let you have them in your mouth. But no. You’re just fucking filthy, Jisung.”
Jisung looked up at you, chest heaving and flushed with a deep blush similar to the shocking color on his cheek. He’d started to shift around impatiently against his messy bedding. “Filthy. ‘M- Yeah. Yeah. I am. Sit on my cock now,” You narrowed your eyes at him writhing on the sheets. “Please?”
You scoffed. You wiggled your own joggers off, leaving your underwear covering your core. “You think it’s that easy? Not everyone gets as turned on as you so fucking fast. No, I’m gonna sit on your face and you’re gonna at least try to put those lips to good use. It’s the only thing that’ll make you shut the fuck up.”
Jisung let out a squeal as you crawled up onto the bed, shuffling on your knees until your clothed core was right above his lips. He immediately latched his lips onto your clit, soaking the fabric with his spit while he sucked hard. His hands went up to your ass, gripping tightly - you allowed him to have that small success.
He was a lot more precise than you’d expected, licking over and over again at the fabric until it was sodden and practically falling off of your core. Maybe it was due to his rapper tongue. You’d been trying not to let out noises all the way through, simply letting out some pleased sighs and gasps when his tongue flicked a certain way. The fabric was restricting though, not allowing you to feel his tongue properly.
“There you go, that’s good enough. You can move it to the side now baby,” Jisung nodded between your legs, slender fingers coming to hook into the hem of your underwear and revealing your core. You were briefly shocked he’d even listened to you. It had, admittedly, become wet all from you making out and touching his cock a little earlier, but you’d never admit it if you were to keep up this persona that he so desperately craved. He whined at tasting you properly, wide licks cleaning up the mess between your folds and making your thighs twitch at the sensation.
He was moaning into your core, shifting his hips up as if he was chasing your hole when it wasn’t even above his cock. You heard him mumbling something in between licks and you lifted off, allowing him to speak.
���Just- Just, please, sit on my cock. Please. Look’it,” Jisung’s lips were covered in a clear sheen from your pussy, his eyes wet with tears. He looked thoroughly broken. He hadn’t even made you cum yet, you mused, but in a moment of relent you lifted yourself off of his face and turned to look at his cock. It did look pathetic, actually, laying against his tummy in a pool of dribbling precum and steadily still leaking more. His hands went to grip the sheets, trying to avoid pumping his cock. You felt for him, just a bit, because you didn’t think you had ever seen a cock that wet in your life.
“Oh, baby, look at that,” you falsely cooed, dragging your fingers down to pick up some of the precum on his soft skin. He whined, nodding at your words. You pressed a finger into your mouth, watching Jisung stare at you intently while you hummed at the taste. It didn’t taste of much, just with a bit of a salty aftertaste. “That’s pathetic. Look at all that going to waste, huh?”
“‘S not- Can’t help it,” Jisung mumbled. You’d officially broken him, you thought. Gone was his bratty behavior and it was replaced with watering, big brown eyes and a quivering pouty bottom lip. “Need your pussy. It’s so wet, I know you need it too, I-“
You pressed your finger into the pool of precum again, coating your index and middle finger and pressing it into Jisung’s mouth to effectively shut him up. He moaned around your fingers, tongue swirling around the pads as if he was sucking a cock. You laughed in disbelief, shaking your head.
“Now that’s fucking filthy. Do you like tasting your own cum? That’s pathetic, Sungie,” Jisung moaned at your words, vibrating around your fingers in his mouth. He started to try to babble around your digits, making you pull your hand away from his face.
He licked his lips, panting. “Not cum. Haven’t cummed. It’s just wet ‘cause I need you to sit on it, ‘kay?” You sighed, acting disappointed.
“Hmm, I guess I could have some mercy. You gotta make me cum though, Sungie, or you’re not cumming. Does that sound okay to you?” You shimmied off your underwear, dumping it on the floor next to his clothes.
“Yeah! Yeah! I can make you cum, yep! You just gotta- it’s- sit on it, I mean, will fill you up-“ You moved again, straddling his hips and resting your hands on the hints of his abs, soft skin beneath your palms. You lowered your now naked core over his length, solid and hot in between your folds. You started grinding along his dick, and Jisung looked fit to burst. “Are you- please! I can’t take it anymore, ugh!”
You shook your head. “Fucking brat. Beg.”
“Yeah, please, fuck please! Please, please need your pussy on my cock, please. I know I don’t deserve it, I know I’ve been bad,” Jisung spoke all in one breath, leaning up on his forearms to look at you. Your teasing had now caused fat tears to actually fall from his eyes, making you feel a bit bad. Maybe you had wound him up enough. “Shouldn’t have- shouldn’t have cum to you and Minho, I know, but you- could hear you moaning and I-“
You cut him off, raising a little to grip his length and sinking down onto it in one go. You shut your eyes, clenching them tightly while you adjusted to the size that was now pulsing against your walls. He was thick. The angle made sure that he was stretching out your hole perfectly, not too much to be uncomfortable. It made you let out a pleased sigh. You hadn’t had this privilege with Minho, just sitting there and letting yourself adjust, but then you’d loved it-
Before you could begin moving, Jisung flipped you over, beginning to thrust into you frantically. You jolted at the movement, letting out a loud moan. “Jesus- Jisung!”
“S-Sorry, sorry, no- I need to, fucking hell- gotta cum,” he was fucking into you at a quick pace, babbling about how good you felt around him. He’d grabbed your hips, pulling you up to meet his thrusts while he just used you as his fucktoy, eyes rolling back into his head.
“Y-You filthy fucking boy, look at you. Give you a bit of pussy and you get all fucking delirious, it’s p-pathetic,” You managed to get out. Jisung let out a loud moan at that, hips faltering. “Can’t even fuck me right, can you?”
“Yeah! I can, I can, I’ve had loads of pussy,” Jisung mumbled, shifting his hips a little bit to try and get a better angle. He was working hard to please you, and in all honesty it did feel really good, but he was clearly getting off on being told otherwise. With an extra shift of the angle inside of you, he was pounding into your g-spot, making you falter and groan out loudly. “There. There! Told you, can make- oh fuck- can make it feel good- hnnnnng!”
You could feel the slick slide of his cock into your pussy, thrusting in and out and him moaning louder as he felt it get wetter with your arousal. It was dirty, extremely messy especially as you both worked together, thrusting against each other desperately for release. You gripped his biceps, fingers digging into the muscles as moans started to fall out of your mouth unabashedly.
“Oh God, baby, my baby, gonna cum-“
“Sungie, Sungie, wait, let me…” you reached down with two fingers and started to rub against your clit, thighs twitching with pleasure. You rubbed fast and quick, merciless as you tried to reach your orgasm with your best friend. His thrusts were staccato, uneven, but you rubbing your clit made up for any lost pleasure in the change of tempo.
You quickly felt your high fast approaching, biting up your spine with the energy of a supernova. Domming Jisung like this had turned you on beyond belief, and finally having him put some effort into fucking you - well, you knew it wouldn’t take long. Your fingers were slipping as they rubbed across your bundle of nerves, but you pressed harder into the button and let the ecstasy overtake you.
Your toes curled as you finally let go. You bit into your lip to try not to moan out too loud, but small moans and whimpers still left your mouth at the intense feeling. Jisung had surprisingly hung on to the edge, watching you intently as you came and slowing his hips to a slow grind so that he didn’t cum inside you. You let your hand fall to the side as your orgasm finally subsided, chest heaving and bottom lip bitten raw.
Jisung pulled out, pumping his cock erratically. His breath was heavy, whines falling out as he used your cum as lubricant to let himself orgasm. “Baby, where do I..?”
You smiled. “Can do it on my tits if you want, Sungie.”
He moaned loudly at this, shuffling up to press his cockhead between your tits. It slid around messily with yours and his combined juices, but he quickly started grinding it down against your skin. It only took one, two, three thrusts before ropes of hot cum were flooding from his tip and even landing on your chin, making you stifle a giggle. He was loud, whining and sobbing through his orgasm as if you’d just given him the best thing he’s ever received in his life. You probably had.
He rubbed his thumb over his cockhead, finishing his orgasm before slumping to your side.
“Fuckin’ wow. That was so good, oh my God. You’re totally such a good Dom, like what the fuck!”
You huffed. He really does never shut the fuck up, does he? “Ji, maybe stop talking and get me a towel?”
“Oh! Oh, right, yeah. Totally. I gotchu,” He shot you finger guns before hopping up off the bed, totally not bothered by being fully naked in front of you. He grabbed a small face towel from his drawer - it was surprisingly clean - and came over to you, wiping you delicately. You felt touched that he’d actually wiped you clean. It was Jisung, after all. It wouldn’t have shocked you if he’d licked it up. He stood up afterwards, wiping his now soft cock with a clean part of the towel.
You groaned as you heard your phone chime with a new text, leaning over to grab it from the pocket of your trousers on the floor. Your heart almost stopped beating.
It was Minho. Apparently, his shift had ended, and he’d texted you with a quick ‘come to my room when you’re done’. You gasped. Jisung quickly ushered around the bed with the de facto cum towel to read your phone over your shoulder.
“Oh shit. You totally got in trouble for fucking your best friend.”
You slapped him on the shoulder. “Shut up, Jisung!” You looked back to the text message, and typed a quick ‘sure’. You blushed, anxiety mounting in your stomach. “I hope he’s not mad.”
“Doubt he will be,” Jisung chirped, pulling a clean pair of boxers on. “Your high sex drive and thing for frat boys hasn’t gone unnoticed by any of us, Y/N. He knew what he was getting into by ruining that pussy-“
“Jisung, I hate you. Why did I fuck you again?”
“Because you wanted to see me cry.”
You huffed, pushing past him to put your clothes back on. Your hair was mussed up, and you knew you smelled of sex. Trying to push that thought aside, you quickly shoved your socks back on before going to make out the door.
“Hey!” You turned around to face Jisung. He didn’t even look sheepish, standing there with his hands on his hips and tapping his foot. “Got anything to say to me?”
Rolling your eyes, you gave him a quick “love you, Ji” before leaving his room. You heard him sing-song an affirmation back to you, but you were already making your way into Minho’s room, not bothering to lock the door.
He was laying on his back, dressed more comfortably after work and with his laptop propped in his lap. You tried not to die just looking at him. Minho turned to you upon entry, raising an eyebrow. “Have fun?”
You hopped from foot to foot. “Y-You’re not…?”
“Mad? Why would I be?” Minho shoved his laptop off of his lap. He sat up, stretching nonchalantly before looking at you again. “You thought I’d be mad because you fucked Jisung? Very loudly, may I add?”
“W-Well, it was… this morning, it was-“
“Intimate? I’m aware,” He stood up, stalking towards you. “I think we should get one thing straight. I don’t care who you fuck. Hell, tick all my brothers off your list if it’s what makes you happy, but you better fucking remember that pussy belongs to me.”
“I-“
“Say it.”
“My p-pussy belongs to you, Minho,” You sigh, cheeks blazing, looking at him standing in front of you. He cocked his head to the side.
“Great, because I’m very aware that no one can ever make that pussy feel the way that I made it feel,” He returned to his sitting position on the bed, leaning back. “Fuck my frat brothers. I couldn’t care less. It’s me you’re coming home to at the end of the night - you did say you wanted to be my sex slave after all, right?”
You nodded. “So, you really don’t mind?”
Minho shook his head, a cocky smile on his lips. “Like I said, babe. Tick them all off your list if you want to, but you better be sitting on my cock afterwards telling me all about it.”
Your jaw was officially dropped lower than it ever had been. Why did Minho have to be so fucking hot? You couldn’t cope. You couldn’t fucking breathe. You needed him biblically. Practically rushing towards him, you straddled his thighs easily and attached your lips to his in a desperate kiss. His hands went to your ass as if he’d been expecting it, because he probably had.
Tick them all of your list, though?
Now that sounded like fun.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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how to write romantic tension
we all love enemies to lovers but some of you get to the lovers part so fast you don't even finish typing 'enemies'. enemthey'refuckingnow to lovers. which is ok if that's what you wanna read but personally, my favorite part is the tension.
So...
Off we go!
What makes a good enemies to lovers story?
Believable tension, likeably irritating themes, and potential. Among other things, but this is what I want to talk about with the 'tension' perspective. There needs to be a good reason, obstacle, and rapport. If they're mad at each other just because, idgaf.
I want to write this but I dunno how to frame the tension?
It's kind of a tricky trope, to be honest. Enemies/rivals/foes however you wanna pitch it, takes an interesting twist on seductive emotions.
pride. a feeling of self-sufficiency, power over somebody else, or superiority. How would this play into a relationship type deal? Well:
Pride in a relationship or in regards to another person can involve a feeling of equivalence. "Do I feel unworthy of them?" "Are they out of my league?" "will the way people perceive me change if I go for it?" Social insecurity is a big aspect, and so the frustration that comes with that leads to friction because of the character's insistence on keeping their dignity. which leads me to the next point...
vulnerability. Attraction to another person is accompanied by a feeling of vulnerability and openness. This is always a hard position to be in, especially if extenuating circumstances make honesty impossible (power imbalance, politics, etc). If a character feels too vulnerable and exposed, they might shield themself with aloofness and sharp words.
desperation/yearning. They have to want each other. the only thing stopping themselves is each other. It's overcoming the above emotions to reach the point where they have no choice but to accept it. Throughout the whole deal, there should be an undercurrent of desire.
When all of those come together, it creates an emotional battle. This battle has several war tactics (hittin with the allegories today dayum)
banter. a favorite of all. wonderfully tense and combative conversation that highlights the reason for disagreement and the romantic tension. 10/10
self-sabotage. like, ohthey'resoclosetheirhandsaretouchingoooohnope. someone chickened out, heard something from someone that made them reconsider, plans changed, they felt angry and ruined the whole deal. back to square one. it's like edging your readers. (ew but you know what i mean. bring em up to bring em down)
miscommunication. "I thought you hated me." "only because I thought you did too..." love it. beautiful. or, there was miscommunication years ago that led to a deep rift when actually, it was entirely unfounded.
and many more...
Another important point:
There needs to be progress. Slow and steady wins the race, but even slow means going forward. If you throw too much tension and obstacles in the way, it gets old really fast. Give them baby steps to take. It'll keep people interested.
Internal turmoil:
Oh, that wonderful period when they know it's inevitable but they're so terrified of it happening....pick an emotional direction.
Are they scared? Hiding from their attraction? Are they angry? Frustrated that they can't have them/became attracted? Are they desperate? So in love that they act out of pure lust?
What is the character's opinion of what is going on? Pick reactions and convo that corresponds with that. Enemies to lovers doesn't always mean sass-battles and hate sex. It can also be someone cold and cut off slowly warming up. Or somebody shy and critical becoming relaxed and open-minded. there are sooooo many opportunities for good emotional depth, spice it up a little!
Things to improve on:
Working on banter/bickering. This is really funny, but the banter should have some kind of meat to it. random back-and-forths are a nice palate cleanser, but so often it just sounds petty. Incorporate plot and past disagreements with it. it'll add depth to the relationship without needing to do a prologue or exposition paragraph.
Not just making them hate fuck and then be head over heels. (I mean if you wanna write/read that, go ahead, but if you're frustrated with the transition stage, I gotchu.) It is a weird moment of going from 'fuck you' to 'fuck me' to 'ilysm'. AWKWARD STAGES ARE OKAY!!!!! It's gonna be a bit of a new thing, esp for the characters. Great opportunity for wholesomeness; if they're trying really hard to get better but don't know how?? UGHH I EATTT IT.
hopefully this provides some pointers?
xox keep writing, comment/message any questions or requests!
#enemies to lovers#enemies to friends to lovers#creative writing#writeblr#writer#writing tips#writing help#writing#on writing#writerscommunity#writing stuff#for authors#fiction writing#how to write#writing advice#readers#romance#romantic tension
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touch starved Logan with a physical touch reader… yeah….
Touch Starved is a good way to describe Logan in two words. I think after so many years of only ever being touched when someone was trying to inflict some sort of physical pain on him, he just decides touch isn't something he's inherently interested in. It's worth more trouble than its worth seeking.
But I can see it now. Logan would be sitting on the floor with his back against the couch. Your legs, are spread on either side of him as you sit on top of the very couch that Logan spends most of his nights on.
“Can I let you in on a secret?” You coo all the while you card your fingers through Logan's hair. Your hands tend to wander absentmindedly down his next and to his exposed shoulders from time to time.
“Huh?” Logan barely hears you speak. He's so tuned out right now. He's floating on cloud nine because he's never had a massage like this before. One that's so nonchalant. One that's so casual and unintentionally intimate when he lets out a sigh of a moan at your handiwork. “Sure, yeah—sorry, I wasn't here for a moment.” You take it as a compliment while your eyes remain trained on the TV ahead as your hands work magic into Logan's scalp, neck and shoulders.
“That first day,” You begin. “When you came into the cafe looking for Wade but he wasn't around?” Logans listening, he swears. But your touch has always been something that could captivate his every sense and have him completely under your control. He'd never craved something so natural before. Your touch. “I think that's one of my top five days, ever.” You admit.
“How so?” Is all Logans mumbled back. His voice is deep and full of gruff undertones.
“Because I'm just really grateful I got to me you is all,” You shrug. It's not that big of a deal. Whatever you and Logan were was something that wasn't defined by traditional labels. But he knew you loved him. And you knew Logan loved you back. You couldn't explain it, but that mutual understanding that you'd show up for each other when it mattered the most made your heart ache at the thought that until now, Logan never felt that level of love, compassion or understanding. “For the worst Logan, I think you go alright.”
Logan had never had someone in his corner the way he knew you were. And he feels that in every aspect of your relationship. But the thing he notices the most…is your touch. How you aren't afraid to touch him. How you value his body for more than just its mutant abilities. You see him, Logan Howlett, for the man he is and wants to be and not the weapon they designed him to be.
Your hugs ignite his skin like a solar flare. Your kisses, your lips on his, set his heartbeat into overdrive. Sixth gear overdrive. The way you cling to him when you fall asleep at night soothes his soul until he decides the couch is a safer place for him.
The way you weren't afraid to hold his hand when no one had ever done so before made Logan's head spin. His brain couldn't compute the sensation on another persons fingers intertwined with his in the way yours fit so perfectly between his. Like you weren't afraid of what you were arresting your hands on. Adamantium claws.
It wasn't until Logan met you, that he realised just how long it had been since he'd experienced the loving and gentle touch of a woman who truly loved him. And once that thought had materialised, Logan realised further that he'd never actually felt the gentle touch of a woman who loved him…because no woman had ever loved him before. Not like you.
“You’re still betting on losing dogs I see?” The corner of Logan's mouth curved up into a smile when you reach down to wrap your around around his shoulders. His heart skips a single best inside his chest when he felt your lips against his scruff-covered cheek.
“What can I say, I’m always a sucker for a stray.”
Ilya
#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett drabble#logan howlett x reader#james logan howlett#wolverine xmen#logan wolverine#logan howlett
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You do a lot of really cool stuff and you do it As You. How do you overcome the fear of being Perceived and Known? Especially when the stuff you're raising awareness about is controversial or big? I have anxiety and while the "fuck it we ball" mindset has gotten me fairly far, I still find myself regretting putting myself out there or regressing back into a shut in.
i feel like what helped me kinda deal with getting pretty well known is probably not really applicable to many other people, because most of it really was that ive just been slowly more and more exposed to a bigger and bigger level of fame since i was like 16 or so. long before i was at the point i am now i was a really well known person in the android modding community and then the broader and broader tech community, i definitely didn't deal super well with some of my first minutes of fame and there's lots of stuff i regret (i def let it get to my head for a while and because i was also slowly burning out at the time i was quite an asshole to a lot of people). i don't think that was necessarily the best for me at the time, but i learned some lessons especially about community building and i did a lot of media work already at the time so ive been honing my communications skills for almost 10 years at this point.
i first started blowing up with hacktivism related stuff around 2019, and then everytime i did again it was bigger and bigger, making massive international headlines for the first time in 2021 (with the verkada story). i still fucked up a lot and got very stressed at that time, especially with my mental health being extremely abysmal and paranoia growing as state repression became inevitable.
after the indictment in 2021 i did more and more press work again (there are lots of portraits of me from that era) but still wasn't like A Celebrity except for those brief moments, which (as i took a break from hacktivism) gave me some more time to grow and learn. by the time the no fly list hack happened in 2023 i had been spending a few months already doing various smaller cyber security related work and working with many of my journalist friends in the industry. in a lot of ways the no fly list leak and the media reaction to it was just routine work for me already at that point, which i think allowed me to take in all the social fame way better as well. it still all felt quite surreal, but i was already mostly media trained, had quite a bit of experience with working with an audience already so it was just kind of a matter of adapting to my new environment.
this isn't to say i was like specifically working towards fame (especially this level) but ive always cared about community/audience building and media communication. i don't think im like "fake" or whatever, but you do have to consider that despite my laid back style im still someone with an autistic special interest in personal branding and media communications. i just don't wanna do that for corporations or for profit and instead use it for my activist and journalist self advocacy to give things a platform.
#(there is also a lot of privilege that goes into a lot of this ofc#but i wanted to focus more specifically on how i deal with fame so nonchalantly)#long post
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