#certain people inspired me and it’s funny as fuck

[little-pondhead]

I pity the souls who actually tries to read this madness. I’m sorry in advance.

[sporesmoldandfungi]

The List - Jim Halpert x F!Reader Smut

A/N : This is an AU where Pam marries Roy and leaves Scranton. Reader takes over her position as receptionist. This is loosely inspired off the PDA episode from Season 7. I pictured S2-S3 Jim when I wrote this.

Working a dead end office job had its perks. Very few, but there were some to name. Being able to sneakily play solitaire throughout the day. The fun albeit ridiculous parties thrown by Michael. But by far the best thing about working in reception at Dundler Mifflin was Jim Halpert.

His desk being merely a few feet away from yours gave you every opportunity to sneak glances at the handsome salesman. Out of all the hobbies you had, sneakily eye fucking Jim Halpert was your favorite one. You loved the way his arms flexed whenever he leaned back in his chair. The way his head gently tilted back, revealing his neck and small stubble. The way his floppy brown hair swooped over his forehead, perfectly framing his face. But he was Jim, and you were you.

You and Jim were complete opposites. He was a natural leader, taking charge of the office whenever Michael was out. He was charming, friendly, funny, kind, you could go on and on. He was so much, so much and you felt little in comparison.

You’d only been working at Dunder Mifflin for a few months, taking over once the previous receptionist tied the knot with a certain warehouse worker. You had kept to yourself mostly, still trying to get a read on everyone. When you first started, you’d sworn Jim was stealing glances at you, making you all the more hopeful he would come to his senses and be with you. After that, you two had become inseparable. Being partners in crime, confidantes, friends. You prayed it would turn in to something more. It was only when Phylis revealed that Jim used to harbor a crush on the previous receptionist and was mostly likely staring at you out of habit, did your hopes crush.

After that, you two rarely spoke, only when about work related things. You didn’t sit together in conference meetings anymore, silently laughing to each other at Michael’s ridiculousness. You didn’t eat lunch together anymore, letting Jim pick off your plate while he let you sip on his grape soda. It was almost like you were strangers.

So, when Michael called another needless conference meeting, you thought nothing of it. You filed into the room, following the long train of people. The seats quickly filled, leaving only one open next to him, next to Jim. You swallowed hard and quietly sat next to you, smoothing out the material of your black skirt. He offered you a polite smile.

That bastard. You thought to yourself.

You gave one back, a litter faker than his but still with nice undertones. You both looked ahead as Michael began rambling about PDA in the office. This caused Dwight to read aloud a list of everyone who had in some way done PDA in the office. He went down the long list of people, the only two names he didn’t list were yours and Jim’s.

Jim nudged your shoulder, making you turn away from the unfolding scene. He gave you a look of disbelief and shook his head in amazement, a quiet chuckle leaving his lips. You involuntarily smiled back, shaking your head along with him. So easily, you fell back into your usual rhythm with him.

He leaned over, speaking in a voice only you could hear. “Are you seeing this? Or am I dreaming?”

“Not a dream, Halpert. Unless you want me to pinch you.” you joked, moving your fingers in a pinching motion in front of his face.

He laughed and pushed your hands away gently. “Man, out of all the inappropriate things that has happened in this room, this meeting takes the cake.”

“I wouldn’t be to sure about that. From the sound of it, everyone else has done it in here already.” You joked, earning a disgusted looking face out of him.

You laughed at his stupid expression. Damn it, why is it so easy to like Jim Halpert? Why can’t he be more of a jerk?

Toby quickly ended the meeting before any more HR violations could be made. The rest of the office quickly left the room and went back to their desks. Michael and Dwight went into his office, no doubt trying to hatch some plan to fight back against PDA.

You rose from your seat next to Jim’s and smiled at him. He stood next to you, practically towering over you. He returned your smile and looked down at you softly. “I’ve missed you, Y/N. Where’ve you been?”

You felt the guilt rush into your system at the vulnerability in his face. You shrugged and honestly said to him, “I don’t know.”

He nudged your shoulder softly and gave you a more friendly smile. “Well, don’t do it again. As your superior, that’s an order.” He said, waving his finger in front of your face with fake authority.

“Aye, aye captain.” you responded, fake saluting him.

You shared a quiet laugh before following the train of people out the door, both of you returning to your respective desks.

The rest of the day was somewhat normal compared to previous. You and Jim ate together at lunch again. You didn’t realize how much you missed the taste of grape soda until you snuck a few sips from his can again. He frequently came up to reception, snacking on the candies as you two caught up with each other.

It was nearing four o’clock when he came back up to your desk. Leaning down, popping a M&M in his mouth, watching you type a memo for Michael.

“I still can’t believe it.” he said, breaking the silence.

You paused your typing and looked up into his hazel eyes. “Believe what?”

“That everyone has been getting it on in here. It’s disgusting!” He joked, popping another candy into his mouth.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, I kinda get it.”

He looked shocked and shook his head. “What do you mean? Why would anyone wanna hook up in the office?”

“Well, it’s kinda erotic. Sitting at a desk, knowing that no one else knows what you’ve done it. Well, except for you and him. I get the appeal.” you said, a blush creeping up to your cheeks.

Jim smirked and looked at you in disbelief, “Man, I didn’t know you had such a dirty side to you, Y/N.”

You leaned forward, close enough to him that you could smell his cologne fan off his skin. Newfound confidence and boldness grew in you as you spoke, “Well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Halpert.”

His smirk faltered for a moment, surprised at the sudden shift in the conversation. He regained it quickly, moving in closer, his lips hovering inches above yours. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

And with that, he popped another candy in his mouth, stuck his hands in the front pockets of his slacks and walked back to his desk.

You sat there in shock for a brief moment. What the hell was that? Where did that sudden confidence come from? And was Jim seriously flirting back? Maybe you were the one dreaming. You tried shaking it off, returning to typing the memo.

Before you could get two words in, you see an IM pop up on your screen. It was from Jim. You looked over your desk to see that he looked normal, drumming his fingers against his desk as he worked. You took a breath before opening it.

Jim : You look a little red over there, something on your mind?

Your eyes reread the passage over and over, still sneaking glances at him when you could. He still sat in his chair, looking as bored as ever. Not at all like he was flirting with you over IM. You took a deep breath before replying.

Y/N : I’d bet you’d like to know.

You watched as Jim leaned forward, obviously reading the message. He looked over to you, catching you in the act of staring at him. He smirked when he saw the pink flutter back up your cheeks. You watched as he quickly typed a response, the message appearing on your desktop within seconds.

Jim : Pretend there’s something wrong with your computer.

You looked confused. What the hell does that have to do with anything? You looked over at him and he just nodded, leaning back in his chair slightly. You took a deep breath and groaned loud enough to get the attention of a couple of people.

“Damn it!” You mumbled, pretending to struggle with a loose wire behind the monitor.

Jim stood up, casually walking over. “What’s up?” He said, loud enough for others to hear.

Once they saw he was helping with whatever problem your computer was having, anyone who saw the interaction went back their work, leaving you two in silence.

“I-“ you said, trying to think of a lie.

He leaned close down and whispered a fake lie for you to say in your ear. You repeated it loudly, playing along with whatever game he was playing.

“Well, I could probably fix that for you. But I’ll need to check under your desk. Mind if I poke around down there?” He asked.

You reluctantly nodded, still having no idea what he was up to. You watched as he smirked, walking around the desk and meeting your side. He slowly sunk on the ground, his body now covered by the large desk. You looked down and watched as he settled in between your legs, no where near the computer he claimed to be fixing. You opened your mouth to ask him what the hell he was doing, but was cut off with a gasp at the feeling of his hands slowly traveling up your legs.

You quickly covered up the sound with a cough, averting any attention it may have gotten. Once you finished, you leaned down, ducking your head low so you could talk to Jim without anyone hearing.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” you whispered at him.

“Well, I’m simply fulfilling a request. You were the one who said having sex in the office was hot. I’m simply following orders, Y/N.” He said, smirking. The feeling of his hands traveling closer and closer to your thighs burned into your skin. You clenched them, refusing him entrance. He looked up at you and shook his head in disapproval. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Y/N. It’s your call.”

You weighed your options, looking down at the image of Jim, smirking between your legs. On one hand, you had dreamed of this day the second you laid eyes on him. On the other, this was not the place you imagined it happening. The idea of him eating you out with everyone around, with anyone being able to spot it, made your stomach twist with delight. You looked down, seeing the impatient look on his face. You took a deep breath and parted your legs slowly for him.

“Good girl.” he whispered, his voice low and dripping with sex.

You almost let out a moan at the sound, but you bit your lip to suppress it. You sunk in your chair, hiding your face behind your monitor trying to relish the feeling of his hands going up your skirt. Your eyes fluttered close as you felt his index finger trace the outline of your panties. You were almost certain he could see the damp spot forming on them, getting wetter with each touch. His finger just about went under the waistband, but the phone rang, interrupting it. You looked down at him with wide eyes, silently asking him what to do.

“Answer it.” he ordered, looking up at you with hooded eyes.

You nodded and breathed a sigh of relief when you felt his hand leave the threshold of your panties.

“Dunder Mifflin, this is-“

Your words cut off in your throat as you feel Jim’s lips place a chaste kiss to your clothed pussy. You jerked in your seat, your knees hitting the desk as you reacted to the feeling. You feel him smirk against your panties as you try to find the words again.

You clear your throat before speaking, “Dunder Mifflin, this is Y/N.”

The sound of the person on the other line merely go in ear and out the other. Your mind is only focused on the feeling of Jim’s tongue, licking a long stripe up your clothed heat. You try your hardest to focus on the words going in your ear, and push back the feelings of pleasure Jim was giving you. You were almost succeeding until you feel his index finger slide under the side of your panties and tease your hole, covering itself in your arousal. If that wasn’t enough, his words made it impossible to hear a single word coming from the phone.

“Jesus, you’re fucking soaked. I haven’t even done anything yet.” he said.

You let out a small whine at his words. Quickly trying to salvage the noise as it leaves your lips, you cough loudly. Apologizing the to person on the phone, you continue speaking, your voice wavering as Jim continues teasing you, his finger just covering itself in your dripping pussy.

As the man on the phone starts to ramble about prices, you have to bite your hand to repel the moan that’s about to leave your mouth as you feel Jim shove his fingers into your tight hole, curling upward as he does.

As you make ‘mhm’s and ‘uhuh’s at the man’s words, you squeeze around Jim’s fingers. You take a quick glance down, locking eyes with Jim as he pumps his fingers in and out of you at an agonizing pace. You pout your bottom lip, silently begging him to speed up. He smirks and mimics your pout, enjoying the needy look on your face.

“So, do you think you guys can cut me a deal?” the man on the phone asks.

You open your mouth speak and cry out as you feel Jim increase his speed immensely, his thumb toying with your swollen clit as he does.

“Yes!” you moan into the phone, earning to strange glances from your coworkers. You struggle to compose yourself, fighting urge to scream your head off in pleasure. “Y-Yes. We can.”

“You’re so fucking tight, I can feel you gripping my fucking fingers.” Jim say quietly, kissing your thigh.

The man on the phone asks to be transferred to sales, surprisingly sold on purchasing paper from you, despite the strange phone call. You frantically type in someone’s extension, saying a quick goodbye before hanging up the phone. Using your free hand, you use it to grip Jim’s hair, your fingers tangling themselves in his brown locks. You hear him moan at the feeling, his lips sending vibrations against your thigh. You feel the coil in your stomach tighten more and more, threatening to snap at any second. Your hand digs into Jim’s hair tighter, feeling like if you let go of him, you’ll lose this feeling.

“Jesus, are you already gonna cum?” He groans, looking up at you from your thighs.

You sneak a glance at him and nod fervently, afraid to answer him without moaning.

He groans quietly in response, ducking his head down once more. His fingers increase in speed and go deeper if that was even possible. You feel them graze against your g-spot, making your head roll back in response, your eyes screwing shut.

You chase the feeling of your climax, feeling it approaching closer and closer. As if he can read your mind, Jim pulls aside your panties more, granting his mouth access to your pussy. He removes his thumb on your clit and replaces it with his mouth, licking and sucking on the swollen nub. You don’t even have to warn him, you feel yourself cumming before you know it. Your pussy squeezes around his fingers as he helps you ride out your orgasm. It washes over you like a tidal wave. It takes all your strength and willpower to not let out the almost pornographic moan threatening to leave your lips.

You sit in your chair, breathless and dripping. You feel his fingers leave your entrance, whining quietly at the feeling. He takes a long lick up your pussy, licking up the mess you made. He gently fixes your panties and skirt before rising. Your cum glistening on his chin, dripping down his jaw. He sits up, wiping his mouth before casually saying, “Should be working a lot better now.”

You watch in disbelief as he walks back to his desk. It takes you a few moments to compose yourself, but once you do, you only have one thought on your mind.

You’re now determined to return the favor.

[banquetwriter]

Johnnie x reader and he’s just super loud during sex moaning and whining

୨୧ Deep moans ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ not edited we die like men, smut with heavy plot, panic attacks, sorta drunk smut, not safe sex, cum fingering lol, lowkey dom!r vibes

summary: ʚ Johnnies feelings for you cause him to freak out, luckily your there to calm him down •smut• ɞ

Words: 2805

An: HIIII YALLLL SOREY IRS A DAY LATE HHEEGE also this fic was inspired by the middle picture hehe

SUPPORT ME

Johnnie was scrolling away on his phone. Not doing anything useful at all. Just messing around on Twitter. He was supposed to go to a punk show with you tonight. Alone. Just the two of you. Jake being the supportive friend he was, tried and failed to set the two of you up.

You were pretty, and funny, and you made his heart race quicker whenever he was around you. Plus you smelled good. Which was a creepy thing to say but it was true. Tonight wasn't even supposed to be a not-date ‘date’. It was supposed to be you Scuff and him all hanging out at a show then maybe a bar after.

Lucky for him Scuff canceled last minute leaving the plans to the two of you. He assumed that meant the plans were off. He was mistaken.

You enthusiastically told him how much you wanted to go with him tonight. That didn't help his ever-growing feelings for you.

So there he sat on your couch awkwardly looking around as you finished getting ready. He could hear you walking around your room, your boots making enough noise to reach the living room.

“Ok ok, I'm ready,” you say, stepping out of your room. Fuck. You looked good as hell. He felt his cheeks heat up slightly looking at you quickly putting his phone away. “Took you long enough.” he joked, staring at you.

“Hey hush, it takes time for a girl to get pretty,” you murmur, flicking your hair back dramatically. “Oh, don't I know it.” Johnnie sarcastically flicked his dead hair back in the same dramatic fashion.

You both laugh at his joke. Your heart flutters watching his smile spread as he laughs. You quickly push your feelings down as you both sit in silence for a few seconds. Johnnie doesn't say anything just looking down avoiding eye contact of any kind.

“Ok let me call Uber,” you say quickly pulling your phone out. You type around and order the car looking at up Johnnie who is just sitting on his phone. “Hey don't look so bored,” you say putting your phone down.

He looks up from his phone with a small smile. “Sorry,” he mumbles, pushing his phone in his pocket. “I know we aren't going with a big group or anything but I promise I'm fun to be around,” you tell him walking up.

You were so close he could practically feel your breath. “I-I know that. I'm just like, anxiety blah,” he mumbles shrugging. He knows your ‘fun’. He was more worried about going to a show with lots of people.

That anxiety sat with him, in the Uber and all the way to the venue. It rested on his shoulder like a terrible angel as you both walked in after getting a stamp on your hands.

“I'm so excited Johnnie!” you squeal in his ear. It was loud and sorta hot at the place, which was to be expected. He just didn't know how to handle it.

He was already feeling anxious, but he was certain his heart was gonna leap out of his chest when you suddenly took his hand and led him to a good spot. Your hands were so soft. You went up behind someone who just didn't seem to want to get out of the way, Johnnie stood right behind you.

Your cold bracelets touching his hand were all too much input. Eventually whoever was in your way left and you found a spot upstairs next to the railing. “This is such a good spot!” you exclaim looking back at him. He looked down at you with a smile and, while still holding your hand, he looked out at the stage.

You were right, it was an amazing view. What he was more focused on was your hands still holding his hand. You pulled out your phone and let go. Johnnie feels ashamed at how much he misses holding your hand.

You pull up your camera app and hold it up to get both of you in it. “Here wait come closer,” you say, scooting back slightly. He furrows his brows slightly and rests his head on your shoulder for the picture.

You stick your tongue in the corner of your mouth and snap the picture. “Hehe thank you” you mumble uploading the photo to your Instagram story with a song from the band you were seeing.

You put your phone away as the show begins. Johnnie moves his body slightly watching you headbang to the music. He enjoyed metal music to a degree but he was mostly here for you.

As the night rolled on he had more and more fun as you forced him to dance. He smiled at you as you screamed for the new band that appeared on stage.

However, the beautiful bliss that the two of you existed in was shortly ruined as some people you knew from somewhere came up and said hi to you. Johnnie didn't know them and was subsequently left alone for a few minutes as you attempted to catch up with your friends.

He tried to focus on the band playing but he couldn't seem to as the anxiety creeped back into his throat. “Hey I'm gonna go get a drink at the bar if you want anything?” you yelled. “Yeah get me a Jack and Coke,” he yelled back.

Maybe if he got drunk this feeling would go away. He felt like he might throw up and die from the feeling that filled his bones. Some of your friends hung around the same spot as they waited for you.

Did they know you were with him? Were they judging him somehow? He was relieved when you appeared back about 10 minutes later with several drinks in your hand. “Ok, who got this freaky-looking blue one?” you ask.

One of your friends raises their hands and you step towards them, they take the drink from your arms as you look down. “Oh here is your Jack and Coke Johnnie,” you mumble, stepping towards him, he picks the drink up and immediately starts sipping it.

He doesn't have just one drink. He was surely gonna be hungover tomorrow. However, with the added alcohol, it was harder and harder to think rationally. He leaned against the railing feeling his heart breaking at your laugh with your friends.

He wishes he could be like that. He rubs his hands in the face. Cringing at how he feels. You were just his friend, someone who took enough pity on him to hang out. It felt like there were a million bees in his ears.

“Hey let's go ok?” your voice brought him out of his state. “What?” he asked, looking at you. “I called an Uber, let's go home ok? You don't look ok right now,” you yelled over the music. He could swear his heart stopped when you said those words.

He froze, not able to return to real life. “Come on.” you beckoned once again taking his hand and leading him out of the venue. You both get into the Uber, your hands not leaving one another.

In the same way, his eyes didn't leave you for more than a few seconds. He was so grateful for someone like you to be in his life. You made it back to your apartment, both of you drunkenly stumbling in.

“Sit down, I'll get you some water,” you said, making your way to the kitchen. He sat down taking the glass with a ‘thank you’. You say down next to him, moving your hand up to his face and adjusting his hair. He was certain he would burn a hole into you from how much he was staring.

You took the glass out of his hand and set it down. “What's wrong? You looked like you were gonna cry,” you asked him, your gaze full of nothing but worry. “I was just having a panic attack,” he told you, looking away.

You once again lifted your hand up and moved his cheek so he faced you. “Why? Did I do something wrong?” you ask. “No! No, you didn't I just-” he sighs, unsure of how to delicately tell you, that he was so in love with you he almost couldn't bear it.

That the thought of you with someone else was nearly enough to kill him. “Listen I need to tell you something, and before I tell you I want to tell you I'm so sorry. I don't want this to affect our friendship-” his mouth suddenly feels dry.

You don't say anything, you sit silently staring at him. “Mm fuck.” he mumbles burying his face in his hands slightly. You reach your hand out and pull his hands away from his face slightly, you scoot forward. You kept your hand on his eyes searching his.

This certainly wasn't helping. “I-I mmm fuck. I'm sorry. I've developed feelings for you, and I know that can ruin friendships, which is the last thing I want with you. I never meant for this to happen and I'm really sorry.” he braced for you to take your hand away.

But you didn't. You looked up at him. He couldn't tell what you were thinking. He was hoping you would say something, anything, to relieve an ounce of stress. But you said nothing, instead, you pulled him directly into a hug.

He reciprocates the contact, squeezing you close. “Did you seriously think I never liked you back?” you asked, pulling away from him. “Yeah,” he whispers, unable to get his voice much louder. “Sometimes you can be so dumb,” you mumble with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he says with a laugh looking at you. “Don't be. And I'm sorry you worried yourself sick over this, Johnnie since the moment I met you I knew I wanted to be with you. I wanted to tell you I just had to wait until I knew you felt the same.” you confessed.

Johnnie felt like a million pounds had been lifted off of his chest. “So what do we do from here?” he asked, looking at you. “I think there is only one thing we can do,” you whispered back to him. You closed the gap between the two of you. Your lips are crashing against his.

He feels his face heat up as you push his shoulders down slightly. He lays down on the couch as you start to crawl on top of him tasting the liquor on his breath. Your hips rest against his as your hands start to slide up his button-up.

You pull your lips apart for a second, you find his hands and guide him to your shirt. He gets the hunt and fumbles to lift it off your body. You aid him and it reveals your torso.

He stares slightly for a second seeing your tits spill out of your bra. You smirk at his staring, wasting no time unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He shrugged his shirt off revealing all of his tattoos. His hands found your waist as you pulled him back into another kiss.

You used your hips to grind down on him, his boner resting nicely on your clit. Your pressure causes him to whine out. You pull away from him, moving your hands to unlock your bra.

“Take your pants off,” you instruct him. He is on his hands in an instant, you rip your bra off and sit up to take yours off as well. Johnnie's hands falter as he stares at your tits. “Don't get distracted.” you chastise. A grin spreads on his face as he feels blood rushing to his face and his dick.

You revel in his body, his tattoo-covered chest rising and falling. You lick your lips slightly as you walk back to where Johnnie is lying down on the couch. Your hand wraps around his jaw, lifting his head up and pulling him into a kiss.

Your other hand roams his body. He whines slightly into your mouth with the contact. His erection grew painfully with your attention.

His whining only increased as your lips moved to his neck, sucking and hitting on his skin. The marks left in your wake didn't leave for days after. Your delicate fingers slid up and down his torso.

“Mm fuck.” he whines wiggling his in anticipation. You notice his struggle and slide your hands all the way down to his bare hips. You pin him down slightly. That only encourages bucking. “You gotta hold still for me baby,” you mumble, bringing your hand down to his aching cock.

“Mhm,” he whines, nodding his head. “I can do that,” he whispered, watching your hand start to massage his hip bones. He sharply inhaled looking at your eyes as they darkened with desire. You turn and begin to straddle his lap.

He leans back on his elbows watching as you begin to place delicate kisses on the tip of his cock. He clenches his jaw in an attempt to hold back the moan that threatens to rip through his throat as you make your way down his cock.

His attempts fail as he lets out a high-pitched screech that he quickly attempts to conceal with his hand. “Oh that part is extra sensitive huh?” you coo batting your eyelashes before placing a lick up a vein.

“Jesus fuck you're going to kill me.” he whimpered. “Oh I don't plan on killing you sweet thing, but I'll get you close,” you whispered, against his neck. “Oh god,” he mutters as your hand slowly wraps around his aching cock.

His hands find their way to the dip of your back nearly drawing blood from his scratches. The combination of your grinding your cunt down on his side, your soft hand tightly fucking his cock, and your warm wet kiss spread out against your neck and chest he wasn't going to last long.

His cute little whimpers and moans only drove you further and further to your own end but you weren't going to get it simply from grinding your cunt against him. You let your ministrations stop pulling away from him. His worried eyes slowly grow excited as you reposition yourself above his cock.

You pumped it a few times before beginning to tease your clit and entrance with it. “Oh god.” he whimpered into the back of his hand as you teased his tip.

You decided to pity him and let yourself sink all the way down onto him. As you bottom out, we both gasped in sync. His hands found my waist as I slammed down on top of him. Unable to contain his sounds any longer, he let every pant, moan, and whine out.

Johnnie sounded like a bitch in heat as watched your delicious cunt swallow him whole. “Please don't stop holy fuck.” he mutters starting unable to see clearly as he feels the coil threatening to snap in his stomach. He tries to reach out and help you somehow.

You quickly swat his hands away, wishing to see his own pleasure rather than your own. His pretty whines and the faces he was making were worth it to hold off for a little longer.

And rewarded you were, with a particularly quick pump of your body let Johnnie finally unravel all the stress he had felt tonight. “Oh Jesus fuck.” his incoherent curse was lost in a sea of moans as he fucked himself into you shooting hot ropes of cum.

“Oh fuck oh my god,” he whined coming down from the high. You slow your pace to a stop watching him attempt to lift himself up. “Did you finish yet?” he asks, still panting.

“No, not yet.” you wander looking down at him. “Sit back,” he murmurs, gesturing towards the couch. You smirked but complied and sat down on the couch, Johnnie brought his fingers into your hair kissing you deeply. He brought his free hand down to yours and guided it to your clit.

You got the hint and started to pleasure yourself. He brought the still-free hand down and slipped a finger into your sopping cunt. After a second of pumping his finger in and out he slipped in two.

Your orgasim approached rapidly as it was your turn to moan. Johnnie swallowed every last one as he curled deep, hitting your g spot. “I'm gonna cum.” you warned as your legs shook.

Johnnie didn't stop his movements and let you cling to him as you rode out your organism. Your pretty moans felt like prayers to his ears. As you began to fall from your high he removed his fingers from you and placed a very loving and gentle kiss on the top of your head.

[tarothouselattier]

What plan the Universe has for you 🪞

| Private readings here | | PAC masterlist| |$5 readings|

*pics stolen from pinterest*

Pile 1 🏹

“The heart is an arrow” — Inej Ghafa. 6 of Crows

I see that if have been held back from a certain endeavour, the Universe is now aligning everything for you to move forward. If you have been done wrong in the past, I see you rising above that and receiving justice.

For most of you I see that you will be able to nurture your project/endeavour and finally start working on it. Your enemies will be dealt with. Prepare to defend and STAND for what is yours. No matter how many people tell you your ideas are stupid, or they try to cut you down or don’t believe in you. You believe in you. The Universe believes in you and does everything for you to move forward. Nobody will be able to hold you back. Your ideas are devine, fiercely believe in what is yours and protect it with the might of your spirit.

I just feel the need to tell you that I love you and you got this, honey!❤️🙈

Please put in an ask in my box and tell me what it is you’re going through lately or what you’re planning, if you want)

Bye <3

PILE 2🧨

“I say whatever I want, I do whatever I want” - IDGAF by Drake & Yeat🎶

Honey, you are about to be so BLESSED. You’ve got an opportunity to shine here, my love. It’s so funny to me how your channel picture is a match and literally every single card that came out for you is on FIRE. Like, brrr. The Universe plans for you to rise in confidence. You are about to have a very joyful, prideful and inspired period of your life. Literally feels like you’re on fire. Your come in yourself is about to rise, you will be enjoying life more.

I asked the Universe WHY this is the case, and She says you have been in a resting period and have been completing a stressful cycle of your life. You don’t deserve all that stress, honey, gotta enjoy, ‘cause life���s too short for ANY bullshit that you don’t enjoy. So I suggest you go all OUT. Fuck them people who are thinking they have a say in YOUR LIFE. You do you, boo. For some reason I have a need to talk to you extra like that, but it’s the energyyy, okay. Go shopping, go play outside, do whatever it is that makes feel good. You deserve and you’re a Queen bitch!!❤️‍🔥 Don’t forget that.

That is the plan for you, dear pile 2 people.

What have you been doing prior that got you to exhaust you joy meters and resources like that? I would love to know. Come tell me.

Love ya, byeee~

PILE 3 🪞

“Oh, she doesn’t see, the light that’s shining. Deeper than the eyes can find.” — Scars to your beautiful by Allesia Cara

I see you breaking the chains others have put on you. You are going against what you’re told and you’re finding your true voice. It seems to me that you are indulging to much in the thing that don’t actually matter to avoid the bigger issues. You feel like you are being held back from your desires and the world is so close yet so far out of reach. It’s being unfair to you. You blame your problems on the world, but ask yourself, what exactly have you been hiding from yourself and why do you feel so comfortable shifting responsibility for your fortunes and misfortunes on a higher power. Isn’t it so convenient that it’s out of reach?

Ponder on this, please. Your picture is perfect for you, because that’s exactly how you feel. Like something or someone is holding you back from your freedom. But the truth is, the only one who can hold you back is you.

The plan is for you to realise this and close out this cycle. Find personal freedom.

Guys, this is my pile as well. Come talk to me however you want.

Bye-bye💜

[fillinforlater]

Eleven to One: Scandalous Shooting

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin

Length: 3140 words

Tags: quickie sex, semi-public sex, might get caught, sex toys, toy use in public, a tiny bit of feet kink/admiration, standing sex, from behind, hard sex, very wet, very close to squirting, very close to losing your career, megalomaniac!you

TW: semi-public sex, I guess lol

Inspiration: the GIF below. Pure sex.

Credt: @sooyadelicacies, my wonderful co-writer in this series. You can find more parts here!

(A/N: After almost three weeks, I'm finally back! Eleven to One is far from being over, view this as sort of an interlude with a big plot point and some nice, good fun with our hot af Ahn Yujin. Enjoy!)

“Excited for my new shoot? Yujin has sent a video.”

#

"Fuck you dumb bitch, suck it just like that." 

Your cock was currently slamming the throat of a gagging Kim Chaewon for what could be between one minute and one hour, anything in between really, but either way, her salvation has just arrived. You pull out of her huffing and puffing mouth and with no further thought wasted on the training session, you prepare to leave.

"What? Where are you going asshole?" Chaewon shouts, baffled, furious, most importantly baffled when you instantly have your hands around her neck and glare down at her, petite and small, kneeling on the floor, one could almost mistake her for a good girl. Chaewon is not yet there though.

"My desire and cock is needed elsewhere. You're not a priority, only a cheap convenience. Yujin is demanding my attention, rather, I demand her body right now." 

Chaewon's face further contorts to a scowl, as you expected. There is the spirit to fight, fight back, fight you, fight whoever opposes her. This spirit is slowly but surely bending to your will and the best part about it: Chaewon has no clue. 

"I'm better than she is..."

Left to right, you cross her messed up face with your cock and scoff at how pitifully desperate her expression is. A little fingering with Minju, a quick blowjob, a facefuck, and she is already demanding you to stay; over your beloved girlfriend, mind you.

"Don't kid yourself, Chaewon." You get your hand in her hair, comb it then mess it up again. "You are so far behind, it's not even funny to compare yourself to her. Like I said: not a priority.

"Minmin, I need you to tie her up. Chaewon's been bad again."

"Yes Daddy!" Minju says naked before you, she is always in the next room, ready to adhere to your commands with glee and joy, even as she puts ropes around her friends ankles and wrists.

"Oh and Minju,” you add, pants not yet around your waist. “How about you suck me off and I'll blast it all over Chaewon's face before I leave. If you are fast, I’ll allow you to lick it off of her too." 

Minju’s eyes brighten and she nods furiously. Soon she’ll nod on your cock.

#

It always fascinates you how easy it is to get into certain areas as long as you look determined and wear the appropriate attire. You dart into the building where Yujin currently still had her shooting for the 1000th magazine her stunning face will be featured on.

Is this an issue for you? No. Yujin is yours, ready to go the extra mile for you every single day. She accepts your craziest desires, the family of lustful friends around the two of you, hell, she risks her entire hard earned career and reputation for you. No reason to mistrust her or be envious because people get to see her face or shoulder or feet—

Okay, this is where you draw the line. Yujin just looks too good; her curvy, willing body on the drawer, hair done to tempting perfection, gaze full of sex and then she sticks her bare feet out. You have to stop it, though it's already on camera, they can’t have more of that.

Behind a group of staff members you come to a halt. Get on your toes and look over their heads to find Yujin, in talks with the director. You hear whispers about some reshoots, Yujin handles the small, direct criticisms like a professional. Of course your eyes also drop from her face to her hips, then even lower to her feet, which are currently hidden in two ugly slippers.

Blending in with the crowd, you make a mental note to speed up plans for your next merger, which is right around the corner, only some stupid, posh guys in suits hesitating, because they don’t want to lose face to Hyewon’s non-nonsense negotiation tactics. After this final chess move, there is no more sneaking around after that. It's a checkmate for any and every doubt. Nothing can stop your fantasies from coming true.

You wait for Yujin to notice you, but then grow impatient. Tapping on your pants pocket, you push a button and notice from a distance a twitch of pleasure on her face as she quickly scans the room to find you.

Perfect, she still has it on her. Whenever Yujin goes out, she has the option to take a small bullet vibrator from her purse and use it to relieve some stress or make a boring schedule more fun. The vibrator is connected with both your and her phone, so you can always test if she knows that you are nearby—and also have your way with her, of course.

Yujin’s libido is great enough for such a bold move and of course she has found you immediately, but instead of going straight towards you, she continues her duty. After all, the reshoots have to continue.

"This scene right here, on top of the drawer," the director says. Yujin gets into position, and thank God she kicks off the slippers.

You lick your lips a little before turning into a scowl. You push the button again, only this time on a higher setting. If you arrived, you were the top priority, not some wannabe director having his eyes look at the most sex-oozing woman to ever walk on this earth. Watching Yujin squirm, you decide to pull out your phone and make a call. The call.

"Hyewon, plans have changed. I want the merger motion to go forward right now. I'm done waiting." 

"Yes, Master!" 

You only had to wait as you watched Yujin continue to try and control herself under the power of the toy inside her. As the minutes and poses went on, it became harder for her to withstand the buzzing pleasure, though the constant background noise has everyone except you blissfully unaware of the vibrators presence. You have to admit, waiting is the thing you hate the most in this world, but with Yujin on the edge, in public, right before your eyes, it’s more than bearable.

"Miss Ahn, is everything okay?" the cameraman asks, worried and puzzled by Yujin's expressions and the increasing redness on her cheek.

"Hm? Oh yeah, I'm gu-ud. Should I try a different pose?"

"How about you put your legs up on it, like you did earlier?" the director suggests. 

When it comes to poses, magazine shoots, and being in front of the camera in general, Yujin is a goddess in every aspect. Cute, thrilling, hot, seductive, cool, she can do it all—and today she decided to give the people what they want.

This tease cannot go unpunished. You continue to let the vibrator do its thing on a low setting to not elicit any unwanted moans and just wet her crotch more and more. It might not be noticeable on the black dress, but she is about to soak it, let her juices run down her legs and pool at her marvelous feet. You are insatiable, not even stopping when she looks at you with begging puppy eyes—

Yujin is at your mercy; only you can get her out of this.

A message from Hyewon lights up your phone. It is done, Master. Well spoken, she must have really pushed those otherwise tenacious executives around hard to get it done this quickly. Smiling, you decide to make your presence known, startling the crew. 

"Mr. Director, you should be getting a phone call any moment now, I'm here to supervise the rest of this shoot. You're all doing wonderful, but I want to make sure Yujin's health is prioritized. Could we go for a lunch break now?"

"Sir, who are you—" The shrill ring of his phone interrupts the bewildered director, though his bewilderment only increases with every second the phone call continues. He hastily runs from set to set, gathering staff members, phone still pressed to his cheek.

"What have you done now?" Yujin snarls, her body not on the drawer anymore, unstable next to you. She grabs your suit, but elect to You ignore her and watch the staff flock out, the directors face full with sweat, an apologetic gesture towards you.

"So-sorry, Sir, we of course take the health of the idols very seriously. I didn't know you were managing her."

"It's alright," you say reassuringly, hand in a pocket, and in the thrill of the moment, you push the vibrator to the strongest setting. "Are you~ alright, Miss Ahn?"

Yujin cries out, her shriek startling the director. He tries to react quickly, but you put on your sternest, most serious face, really, the feat of a great actor, though that is par for the course in your business. 

"Lets not waste any time. Mr. Director .I'll need everybody off the set. I'd rather not have anyone see Miss Ahn like this. Thanks for your understanding."

"I-I, of course, I'll—"

The director throws his hands in the air. His face is pale, he is unsure where to run, left, right; he needs time to catch himself and find the exit as does everyone else. He closes the door with an apologetic bow and you can hear him shout in panic and frustration.

"How the hell did you do that?" Yujin mumbles, her hands on your side to keep herself upright. Look down to find her legs drenched in her own juices, the dress ruined, her hair in a wild mane.

You lick your lips. 

"Oh baby girl, you're mine now. I had Hyewon seal the deal. I bought your company, which means, personally and professionally, every part of you belongs to me."

Yujin's puppy eyes have never been bigger—except for maybe the time you first penetrated her tight pussy—though this time you find it hard to make out any clear thought she might have; is it pure bewilderment at the boldness and timing of your move? Is it anger because you purposefully got her into trouble, took things too far, just because you could? Or is it—

"Now what?" Yujin grits her teeth and looks to the wet floor. "This was too risky! Reporters will ask questions, some are going to spy on you, rumors will spread—they will find it out! You can't hide this forever."

You gently rake your hand through Yujin's raven hair and watch her toes tense up. Her entire body radiates tension, stress, like she can see everything crumble. The future looks bleak, nothing but darkness. The ‘young you’ can relate strongly, the bottom is usually dark—but as long as you fight, you'll reach the light. Even in the poorest of areas, someone is able to reach for the stars and create a better place for himself, his family.

A better place, even better than what you believed was already perfect.

"Trust me, Yujin," you coo to her and gently pull her hair back to look down at that concerned face of a beautiful goddess. "This is going to lead to moments greater than you could've ever dreamed of."

She looks at you with a swirl of conflicted emotions, but you don't let her dwell on it for too long as you move in to kiss her, prodding your tongue into her mouth too. You subtly position your left hand's fingers near her wet snatch.

"We don't have—"

"—a lot of time," the two of you whisper simultaneously. It's teamwork, alright, how she finishes your sentence with her needy voice, how you hike up her dress while she fiddles with your zipper, how you both find a bit of cover in the far corner of the room. If someone were to come in, you'd at least not be seen, but by the way Yujin squirms when you pull at the cord of the oval vibrator, her voice will make the situation blatantly obvious, even for a blind person.

"You need to stay quiet," you growl in Yujin's neck while you still try to get the plug out of her tight cunt. "This is some serious business, don't disappoint me. Do it like you did last year, on the red carpet.

"Why the fuck—"

The vibrator is still stuck inside her, the walls of Yujin's pussy clamp around it, not ready to let go of the pleasure the constant vibration brings. If it wasn't for your arm around her waist, Yujin would've dropped to the floor already. She is unable to resist it, it's deep inside her, it's snuck and comfortable. 

A conflict for you, for her: Can you really let her cum just like this again? It would not be the great, immediate release for your cock you were looking for, but the humiliation, Yujin's embarrassment would make you ascend to a new level of all-powerfulness. It's the same for her, just the other way around. It seems that she has made up her mind before you though:

"Daddy please, you-you need to leave… let me finish the shoot and—" 

But you keep kissing her neck. 

"Baby girl," you growl. "Either you cum on my cock after I pound your tight little pussy or I turn that toy in you on maximum for the rest of the day. You'll squirt like a fucking fountain, make a mess and then what? What will the headlines say then?" 

"Daddy, please! At home… I'll do whatever you want, just not here."

"You know it already don't you, baby girl? I'm your salvation—my cock is your salvation—with it inside your walls, it will keep your cum from spilling out and save you from becoming breaking news."

This much convincing, with Yujin convulsing, is really confusing, but in the end, she is unable to conceal her desire for you to plug her. Her neediness is an issue and your neediness is the solution.

There is no need or time for a blowjob, you are ready to enter right away, so you grab as much of the black dress as you can and pull it up. Yujin's help would be appreciated, but the horny thing can barely stand on her own, both her hands on your back to find security.

"You're the prettiest when you are this needy, baby girl," you tell her as her large, watery eyes are unable to look anywhere but you. A couple of tears spill over, then down her cheeks when she finally presses out the vibrator from her pussy. "Get your leg up here, on this couch." 

The angle is perfect, your throbbing cock aligned—you still need to dive in her delicious full lips with that strawberry flavor to deafen her moans. The dive was almost too late, the draw of her cunt is too strong for your manhood to resist, and of course you fill her fully.

"God, you're so tight, you're always tighter when you're so needy.” Your words come pouring out when you disconnect your lips from hers; it’s like disconnecting from the world and ascending to a place of unknown, unbound, unending power. “I get it now. These shoots, these long and stressful hours. You're so hard working baby girl, but now we can fuck anytime. Isn't that a good thing?" 

You thrust harshly and stroke Yujin’s pretty hair. Anytime, anywhere, it all doesn’t matter anymore. What it matters is you in her, above her, all over her. This is what your love is "Tell Daddy how it feels."

"Y-you're so greedy," Yujin huffs out, even after years of almost daily pussy pounding she is unable to control her breathing during sex. "Where, fuck, where will this end?"

"Answer my question, baby. And keep your moans down. I might make you cum, erupt like a pent up volcano. I can already feel the tsunami building up. Admit that you want me this greedy, because nothing can satisfy—"

"Fuck, okay, okay." Yujin grabs the sleeve of your suit with one hand and your nape with the other. "Daddy, own me. My entire life, my career, my social circle—take it." Her eyes are daggers, then a concoction of bliss, devotion and insurmountable expectations. "Take re-responsibility, and I'll be the best baby girl ever."

"You'll be that either way."

Slam her against one of these many thin, unstable decorative background walls, watch it sway dangerously backwards, but fuck her with the same recklessness as before. Yujin's teeth dig into her lower lip, her body losing all it's grip, except for the grip of her cunt, which you have fucked from every angle, sure, but standing has her the tightest. At least, you believe it right now—maybe it's the setting, the chance to get caught, the career ending thrill.

"I'm your good girl, good girl, Daddy, I—"

"Go on and cum. My cock will save you."

A fleeting moment, a moment of silence, no movement, as if time itself freezes. A moment where Yujin truly is powerless, where she can't just walk out and break up with you or throw everything away and live a different life. She is about to scream her orgasm out, and with her arms uselessly hanging on the sides of her convulsing, climaxing, prime body, nothing but you can stop her from getting caught.

And she submits herself to it, the scream never making it to anyone as you silence her with a strong palm on her luscious lips. Yujin shakes and shakes, only hints of juices making their way past your shaft, your base. She is plugged and both her legs and dress are saved—at least from being ruined entirely.

The orgasm continues in waves. Yujin's eyes water, her moans echo back, her knees melt like ice cream in the summer—she has to admit, she is waiting for your cream inside her, though it never comes.

"Good girl," you coo to her and start fixing her hair while still balls deep in her cunt. "I have some spare panties for you. Don't worry, I soaked them in some perfume, they won't smell anything. Remember, Daddy is right here. Just follow my lead."

"Y-yes." Out of breath is an understatement. You suffocated the poor girl to the point of exhaustion. Maybe that is the point, to make her look exhausted, weak, hell, she can barely walk. You support her, watch her put on the panties, swipe away some messed up makeup that would look too wild, too suspicious. 

"Hook your arm underneath mine," you tell her. "I'll tell them your ankle is hurt, that we'll go to a doctor, something like that."

"Daddy, why do you go through such lengths for, for this?"

You grin and look down at your girlfriend, mere moments before the photography director comes rushing back onto the set.

"Why are you so tight whenever we might get caught doing this?"

[midmourn]

like the movies

♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre fluff, slice of life, angst, suggestive warnings language, suggestive on jeno’s, brief death joke on haechan’s note if yall have any requests let me know 🫶 here’s the tropes if you can’t tell: mark: best friends to lovers. renjun: enemies to lovers. jeno: fwb. haechan: fake dating. jaemin: second chance. chenle: arranged marriage. jisung: brother’s best friend. i cant remember who inspired this but i do know it was for enhypen lol ( masterlist )

resting on his elbow on your bed, mark’s mouth is agape as he stares at you, blinking furiously. was he dreaming? you, who stood in front of the floor length mirror, smooth down your clothes for non-existent dust and smile to yourself, “okay, how about this outfit?” you wait a few seconds before frowning, “mark? hello— mark?” you wave a hand in front of him and he jolts, “wha—? oh, um, yeah, it’s great. you look really good— … dude.” he winces inwardly at the name, but you don’t bat an eye at it and frown at his seemingly insincere words. “you’re right, it’s bad. i’m going to change.” mark catches your hand with a laugh, “dude, no! seriously, you look really— …” he trails off, looking hesitant to say the next word, even though he’s said it so many times before so easily. what was different now? “— pretty. gorgeous,” he says it without even thinking, realizing it the moment you smile bashfully, ducking your head to your chest to try and hide it but failing miserably. he studies your face for a second, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. and— oh. he wants to kiss you so bad. you, his best friend. oh. oh shit.

renjun doesn’t know when the lines blurred from enemies to frenemies to … lovers? crushes? all he knows is that the burning rage that used to fill him every time your mouth opened was now replaced with warmth spreading over his chest and the urge to kick his feet while giggling. words neither of you would dare to speak around your mothers, intended to hurt, were replaced with teasing, playful words with no hint of malice. your head turns swiftly, knocking him out of his daydream as you raise an eyebrow at him, “take a picture, maybe it’ll last longer.” cheeks flushing a subtle red, his eyes narrow at you, “you might break my camera.” but his pinky creeping towards yours and lips curling up at the ends says how he really thinks. you smile, flipping your hand over and making the first move to intertwine your fingers. his heart stuttered in his chest, “i— you—” you laugh, squeezing his hand once before going back to your textbook. and, yeah, he was certain he’s never felt this before.

“if you squeeze any harder, i think you’ll break the glass,” mark attempts at a joke to diffuse the tension radiating off jeno. jeno’s lips barely twitched up as he glanced down at the glass in his hand before setting it to the side, done drinking for the night. he didn’t feel like it anymore when he saw how closely some guy holds you to his side, hand on your waist. he didn’t like the funny feeling it gave him and he could only imagine how it’d feel when alcohol was added into the equation. “jeno, dude, when are you gonna make a move? you guys have been—” he glances around, checking for eavesdroppers even though the music was far too loud for anyone to hear, “—messing around for months, basically a couple without the label. and you know there’s more people interested in y/n than just him.” the two look back to the opposite side of the room where the guy was whispering something in your ear, a smirk on his face. “you need to tell them you want something more than just fuck buddies. or else you’ll lose them forever.”

“you— WHAT?” haechan winces as your voice grows louder in his ear, casting a quick look around to see if anyone could hear you through the phone. “hyuck! what the fuck?” “don’t act like it wouldn’t be a privilege to date me,” haechan scoffs playfully, hiding his nervousness behind humor; as he always did with his emotions. “i’d rather die.” “okay, well, please! my mom’s already told everyone in my family that i’m bringing someone, including my sisters!” the mention of his sisters have you going quiet, and he hopes you’re thinking about it on the other end. “god, haechan— i—” you sigh in frustration, “how was my name the first name to pop up in that tiny brain of yours?” he ignores the jab, thinking back to that moment. truthfully, he already knew why you were the first name to pop up in his head when his mom mentioned bringing a date to his family reunion. but you didn’t need to know that. not right now, at least. “you weren’t, you were actually my last choice but all my other choices would’ve said no,” he teases, hearing you scoff in disbelief and he grins. “whatever. you’re lucky i love your sisters and hate letting them down.” “and me?” he raises an eyebrow, maybe a hint of hope in his voice. “you wish.” he does.

jaemin swears he’s dreaming when he looks up and sees you. never in a million years did he think you would come back home. not when you tried so hard to leave, anyway. you’re across the aisle, switching your gaze between two spices in your hands when you feel the back of your neck prickling. your head lifts, making eye contact with jaemin immediately. your breath catches, the world freezing around you as the two of you stared at one another. jaemin had only seen glimpses of you through social media the last four years, living your life in some prestigious university with your dream job and dream life in america. he watched your life through pictures like he used to watch you sleep. you break first, raising a hand to wave shyly at him, attempting a weak smile as you didn’t know how he’d react. jaemin abandoned his cart, walking closer to you as you set the spices into your cart. “hi,” you breathe out once he stands in front of you. for years, it seemed like you could never catch your breath, always missing just one thing. and now, it seemed like a breath of fresh air, standing in front of him. his lips turned up into a soft smile, eyes shining as he said softly, “hi.”

the hotel room is silent as chenle unlocks the door with the cardkey, letting you in first and doing a quick check of his surroundings before following in. he listens to the click of the lock, eyes following your movements as you grab a change of clothes and your skincare items from your suitcase. he loosens the tie around his neck, kicking his dress shoes off and turning his back towards you. he doesn’t intend on saying anything, knowing that this situation is definitely not your favorite thing in the world. while he wished it was on his own terms, he liked that it was you. it was only ever you for him. you just didn’t know that. “chenle?” he hums in reply, shrugging off his suit jacket and throwing it on the loveseat. “you don’t … hate me, do you?” his head snaps up, brows furrowing, “what?” the word comes out incredulous and you bite your lip, embarrassment sinking in as your cheeks begin to feel warm. “i … i know this isn’t ideal, but for me, i know it’s not the worst thing in the world.” he blinks at you. you smile slightly at his dumbfounded expression, “i was angry at first, and i was so … betrayed. but, i’m glad it’s you.” you don’t expect a response, heading into the bathroom quietly. he smiles to himself once he fully registers what you just said. i’m glad it’s you. he was, too.

from your spot on the armchair, you watch as jisung rises from his seat on the couch, next to your brother. “i’m getting a drink, anyone want anything?” the rest of your friends and your brother’s friends chime in with their answers, and you wait a second for anyone to get up and follow after him. but no one does. you smile to yourself before standing, “i’m going to help him, since you assholes won’t.” your brother waves you off, too far into the video game to give a better reply. you sneak up behind jisung, sliding your cold hands up under his t-shirt and he jumps, neck twisting to look at you. “ah!” he says a little too loudly, and you shush him. you stay silent before you hear shouts of excitement and disappointment from the living room, turning back to him. “what if—” he starts to say. “as far as they know, i’m helping you with the drinks and snacks,” you poke him in his ribs and he jumps, making you snicker. you stare into each other’s eyes for a few seconds, enjoying the small moment you’ve rarely got since you all came home from college for the summer. at the thought, your face falls and jisung frowns, brushing a stray hair away from your eyes, “what’s wrong?” you shake your head, not wanting to ruin the moment but he insists. “i … i really want to tell him, ji.” you frown, watching his face carefully. “the longer we keep this a secret, the more he’ll be mad. i think we should just rip the bandaid off.” at his hesitation, you sigh and step away from him, making him take a step forward to close the distance again. “jisung, if we’re really serious about this, we have to tell him at some time.” you hesitate, “… are you serious about me?” his eyes widen, “what? yeah, i am. i’ve been serious about you since we were seventeen. i…” he looks shy, “you’re it for me. you’ve always been.” your cheeks heat up, eyes darting away shyly at his words as you allow him to close more distance between you two and press a meaningful kiss to your lips. “we’ll tell him … after everyone leaves, okay? i don’t want to hide anymore. i didn’t like it in the first place.”

[gravedigginbbydoll]

An Extra Step

Eddie Munson x Bilingual! GN Reader

AN: Heyo! So, I was randomly inspired to write this little blurb. I'm sorry for being AWOL so much, grad school has been kicking my ass. I promise to update my current WIPs as soon as I can. Anyways, this is based on myself being bilingual :) In the blue text is when the other language is spoken. I kept it vague and not specific so that other people who may be bilingual or have English as a second language could relate.

CW: mentions of food, mentions of family, mentions of childhood, no gender mentioned, pet names, kissing, emotional, fluffy

It started as a tiny thing, a little nudge from deep within. It was a warm summer day in Hawkins, you and Eddie relaxing in the trailer. Wayne had given you two your own trailer (right next to him, of course), and you had a jar on the table, coins and dollar bills stacked up in it, determined to get your own place one day together. Preferably a house or apartment, but that was a worry for later. You and Eddie were lounging about, you perched at the kitchen while Eddie was sprawled out on the sofa, attempting to cool off. You leaned against the counter, reading a postcard you’d received from a family member. You giggled at the message they wrote, peaking Eddie’s interest. He smiled, turning to you, sitting up a bit. 

“What’s so funny, babe?,” He asked, cocking his head in that golden retriever way, his eyes curious. 

You bit your lip, unsure how to explain. “Uh well… my cousin wrote me a postcard,” You explained, shrugging. 

Eddie walked over, looking over your shoulder at the note before he deflated a litte. “Oh. It’s not in English,” He stated, a bit disappointed. 

You nodded, biting your lip, thinking. You explained the joke briefly, giggling while doing so, but Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed and you felt your heart sink a bit. 

You never told Eddie, but sometimes you felt like you lost yourself little by little without your first language. Jokes translated incorrectly, you were unable to express certain things in English, and you felt like a part of yourself was dimmed. You wished Eddie could understand your family and even your own moments of frustration, when that little piece of you slipped out, only for him to look a bit confused.

You shook your head, smiling awkwardly, and putting up the letter. “Nevermind…It’s not as funny in English.” You put up the card, taking Eddie’s hand over to the couch. “C’mon. Let’s watch a movie.” 

Eddie could see the pain in your eyes when he didn’t understand your native tongue. He felt his heart squeeze each time, cursing himself for not learning it the moment he learned you had another piece to your puzzle. 

Which was what prompted the secret research. 

Fuck, Eddie had never even studied for school exams this hard. 

He started his search at the library, asking around and trying to see if there were any classes nearby. He learned there were some lessons and books around, though they had to be ordered and the meetings were three towns over. But anything to see you smile. 

Eddie poured over the books, kept a secret journal with all his notes from the clubs he attended (which truly were just people who spoke the language getting together to talk and exchange snacks, some of the older ladies pinching Eddie’s cheeks and smiling over at him.).

He knew you were suspicious, consistently glancing over at him confused when he would show up from the meeting late in the night, lying to say it was extra work hours. 

He poured over cassettes you had in your native tongue when you weren't home, learning the lyrics to your favorite songs. 

Hell, he even began trying to think in the language. (Easier said than done, he had no idea how you balanced the two)

But it was all worth it for that night. 

Eddie had taken the day off, gone to the international grocery store that was miles away, only to drive back, and begin prepping. He was making a meal he remembered you saying you missed, something near and dear to your heart and childhood. He knew it would take a bit of prep work and sweat, but Eddie was willing. 

He grinned to himself, heart swelling with pride. 

He couldn’t wait. 

When you walked through the door that night, you felt your heart stop. Familiar smells that you hadn’t smelled in years floated through the kitchen, your heart racing. You heard Eddie singing along softly in the kitchen, your native tongue clumsy on his lips, but making your heart swell, your eyes water a bit. 

“E-Eddie? What’s all this?,” You asked cautiously, eyebrows furrowed, eyes watering and blurring your vision. 

“It’s your favorite…I figured you deserved a treat!,” He replied…in your language. It was clumsy, the pronunciation not perfect. But your breath caught nonetheless. 

“You did all this…for me?,” You whispered, clutching tightly at your heart as tears rolled down your cheeks. 

Eddie smiled softly, walking over, softly running a finger under your chin to look up at him. “Of course. I love you,” He whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. 

Tears streamed down your face, vision blurred as you threw your arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder, your heart overflowing with emotions, your hands clutching at him. You whispered ‘I love you’ over and over, sobs racking your shoulders as Eddie held you, rubbing your back, kissing the top of your head. It meant the world to finally hear those words in your tongue and being able to whisper it back.

That night was filled with warm and full bellies, laughter and leading Eddie through pronunciation, learning of his secret little escapades (So that’s why he hadn’t been as hungry! Those little grandmas were stuffing him with food…) and showering Eddie with kisses. 

Never in your life had you felt so seen and loved. 

Eddie Munson was it for you.

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.3

pairing: ellie williams x fem! reader (ur a girly girl in this one!!) (she/her pronouns)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: (PLEASE READ!) explicit language, violence, description of a medical procedure sans anesthesia, recreational drug use (idk how else to put it ellie gets absolutely zonked in the beginning), reader overthinks asf and is a little neurotic but that's why we love her x

a/n: hey guys! thank you so much for the wait! it's been genuinely insane how sweet and incredible all of you are. i've never felt so appreciated for my writing!! also, some notes: this chapter is heavily inspired by my last relationship. sorry if it's not as immersive bc of it! and also i don't have ANY medical knowledge so...cast a blind eye when u get to that scene

part 1

part 2

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod​ @sawaagyapong​ @rystarkov​ @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma

wc: 6.6k

enjoy x

“One more time.”

You gave Ellie a withering look from where you were sitting at the end of her bed.

“Please,” she said, drawing out the s. “Just once more. I promise.” 

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes—a habit of hers that you were quickly picking up—and took in a deep breath. “Fuck.” 

Ellie lost it, peals of laughter bouncing off the walls. “Another one. Say something else.”

“I don’t understand why you think this is so funny,” you said.

“You say it so weird.”

“I enunciate,” you clarified. “I don’t ‘sound weird’. It’s called pronouncing every letter in the word and not having a lazy mouth.” 

“Please,” she gasped. “At least say bitch. You haven’t said that one yet.”

You looked her dead in the eye. “Bitch.”

If you weren’t already certain that Ellie was high out of her mind by the smell of her room and the general haze in the air, the way she howled with laughter and fell back on her bed would’ve made you entirely positive.

This was new. You’d begun to hang out with her in her room after dinner—that was normal—but when she’d knocked on your door smelling heavily of weed once you’d said goodnight to Joel, you were nothing less than shocked. Of course, she had none left for you. Which was probably good, because only a sober mind could navigate a night sitting on Ellie’s bed without doing something really, really stupid. 

“I can’t believe you call me weird,” you said, tucking your feet under her and giving her a pointed look. 

“You’re so lucky you didn’t grow up where I did,” Ellie said, wiping a tear away from her cheek as she tried (unsuccessfully) to rein in her giggles. “You would’ve been eaten alive, good lord.”

“What were you like as a kid?” you asked, resting your chin on your knees. 

She considered for a moment, growing more somber. “Um…I don’t know if you would’ve liked me very much.”

“What do you mean? Of course I would’ve liked you.” 

“No,” she said, swiping at her face so she pushed a strand of hair away. “I don’t think you would have.”

“Why not?”

“I was…” She paused, picking at her cuticles. “Back then I didn’t have anyone. I was an orphan, you know. My parents were never in the picture, so I was the only one I could count on.  I was really rough around the edges and could be nasty. But I probably would’ve ignored you like I did everyone else. “

“Everyone? You didn’t have anyone? No friends at all?”

Ellie blinked, and her gaze remained fixed on her hands. “Basically, yeah. I mean, there was one girl, but that’s…I don’t want to talk about that right now, actually.” 

“That’s okay,” you said, reaching forward to touch her knee. She flinched at the contact but didn’t brush you away. The image of a young, scared Ellie living somewhere alone made your chest ache. “You don’t have to tell me.” 

“What were you like?” she asked, tilting her head and meeting your eyes. 

“Hmmm…” Mirth crept into your tone. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Ellie echoed, her eyes cloudy as she thought. Then a small smirk formed on her face. “Oh god, were you one of those spoiled brats? Were you a mean girl?” 

“God, no,” you said, raising your eyebrows. “Not mean.”

“Then what?”

You paused. “I was really shy, I guess. And quiet, too. I didn’t do much but read for a good 10 years of my life. I used to have awful pronunciation because I would spend more time reading than talking to anyone. But I think I would’ve liked you.”

Ellie shook her head.

“Yes,” you said. “Maybe I would’ve been a little scared of you. I probably would’ve never had the courage to talk to you. But I would’ve liked you, I think.”

“Scared of me?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? I was a kid.”

“I was mostly going off of how I felt when I actually first met you,” you said, shrugging. 

She gasped theatrically. “You’re scared of me?”

“No!” you said, smacking her knee. “That’s not what I mean. You’re just really intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” She looked at you incredulously. 

“You’re so tough,” you explained, feeling heat grow in your cheeks. “You seem just—I don’t know, just so capable. There’s nothing you’re too afraid to face, nothing you’re too afraid to say.”

“That’s not true,” she said lightly. 

“Well, of course I’m sure there are things that you’re afraid of,” you amended. “But you hide it so well. You just seem so…fearless.”

“Hm,” Ellie said, letting her head rest against the headboard. “I think you would’ve made me a nervous wreck. If we’d met when we were kids, I mean.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you before. You’re just so untouched.” She winced. “God, no. That sounds gross. I just mean…I dunno. I wouldn’t have known how to act around you. You haven’t had to harden up like everyone else I know.”

“Are you saying I should develop trust issues or something?” you asked, your voice a teasing lilt.

“You know,” she said, nodding seriously, “That is part of it. It was really off-putting how quickly you trusted me. But I guess that’s just a product of where you grew up.” 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “I wonder how I would’ve turned out if I’d grown up like you.”

“Can I be honest?” Ellie asked. 

“Sure.”

“I don’t think you’d still be here if you were me,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “No offense. You just have zero survival skills. I swear that shit has to be genetic. I’ve never met someone more averse to violence in my life.”

You sighed, pressed your hands deep into Ellie’s comforter as a thought hit you. “I think if you’d been born in my position, you would’ve been greater than anything either of us could ever dream of. Much greater than me.”

“Definitely not,” said Ellie. “There’s no fucking way I’m studying the way you apparently do. I honestly think I’d take being an orphan over the study schedule I saw in your bag.” 

She was of course referencing the time table you’d roughly sketched up the morning before you’d ended up in Jackson. It was blocked to the minute, citing the study content and the location of said study session. She’d been beyond horrified to see it. 

You laughed, nudging her socked food with yours. 

“Is there music? In Terranova?”

“Oh,” you said, startled at the abrupt change of subject. “Uh, yeah. Of course. I listened to it all the time.” 

“I used to have a Walkman,” she said, leaning back as she reminisced. She was lying flat on her back now. “It ended up breaking a while ago, but it was like my child.” 

“Have you ever seen a movie before?” you asked, sitting up rigid straight as the thought occurred to you.

“Duh,” she said, giving you a weird look. “Do you think I live under a rock?”

“How many?”

“Hm.” Ellie began counting, ending on her second hand. “I think 6?”

“You’ve seen a total of 6 movies in your life?” 

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to see more?”

She shrugged. “I mean, I guess. It’s just tough to find CDs that are still functional after so long.”

“Hold that thought,” you said, holding a finger in her direction as you stood up.

“Hey!” she called as you bolted out the door. “Where are you going?”

You came bounding back to her room in a matter of seconds, your laptop in your hands. 

“What the fuck?” she said. “Isn’t that your homework thing?”

“Yes,” you said, feeling around for an outlet, “But I also have a ridiculous amount of movies downloaded on this. Our dorm wi-fi is shit and I have way too much storage on this thing, so I just download, like, every movie I’ve ever wanted to watch.”

“Your dorm what?”

You waved your hand. The last thing you wanted to do was explain to her how the 802.11 standard allowed wireless connections a few years after the outbreak. “Not important. Here, come look at this.”

Your laptop roared to light with the help of your charging cord. Quickly, you typed your password in and opened your downloads. Ellie hovered over your shoulder, squinting at the screen with confusion. 

“Here,” you said, opening up the album that had everything you had seen for your entire university career and passing the laptop to Ellie. “Use the touchpad—there, yeah—to navigate. Press to click. These are all movie files that I’ve seen. We can watch them on my laptop. Some of them were filmed in Terranova, too, so they’re post-apocalypse.”

She perused the selection you had for quite some time, the glow of the screen lighting up her face against the dim room. “Okay. This one.”

And thus began a tradition. Each night after you’d finished showering and Joel retired to his room, Ellie would come knock on your door and ask if you wanted to come over. You’d talk for a while, then open your laptop and pick something out to watch. Ellie was never high after the first time, which was unsurprising considering that there definitely wasn’t a way to get any in Jackson. Where she found any the first time was still a mystery to you. 

~

A week or so after your first patrol with Ellie, Joel had taken it upon himself to teach you how to shoot. You were surprisingly not as bad as you’d expected, but the rebound was tough to get used to, and you were still hung up over the whole “killing living things” part. 

Your first patrol—first real one—came quickly, and before you knew it, Ellie was handing you the same gun you’d dropped the first time with a suspicious look. 

“Don’t kill one of us with that thing,” she warned. “Be smart, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss,” you said to her, mock saluting as best you could while you were leading Japan to the mounting block.

She rolled her eyes. “Please act normal or I’ll make you carry around that glorified pocket knife instead again.” 

The patrol began as usual, Ellie leading you down the same path you went last time. It was a beautiful day out, with the early spring sun filtering through the evergreen trees that populated the woods and birdsong filling the air. 

Though conversations with Ellie were getting easier (given that it actually seemed like she wanted to talk to you now), you were still starstruck. Nothing that you did and nothing that you thought could get you to stop seeing her the way you did. You were routinely distracted by everything about her. It was a wonder that you could even function as a normal person around her, much less handle a weapon and a horse. 

You two had nearly made the full rotation when your surroundings exploded in action. 

“Fuck,” Ellie hissed as someone behind you two fired a shot that narrowly missed Shimmer. 

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see two men—two normal men who weren’t infected. One held a bow, the other a gun. 

The one who had fired the first shot never even stood a chance. He was down on the ground seconds after you’d seen him, Ellie’s aim taking him out before you could even ready your gun. 

The second man notched an arrow and managed to draw it back and release into the air right as Ellie’s bullet struck him, sending him falling back. 

“I don’t think there’s any more,” said Ellie, slightly breathless as she scanned the forest. “Sometimes outsiders pull this shit—try to kill us for our supplies. I’ve never seen them this close to the wall, though. I’ll have to tell Maria and Tommy.”

Normally, you would’ve felt up to making some sort of sarcastic comment about how that was a really unconcerning thing for her to tell you and that you actually felt so much more comfortable going on patrol knowing that there were also just run-of-the-mill people trying to kill you, but a twinge in your lower body distracted you. 

Slowly, nervously, you looked down. Air immediately left your lungs. 

“At least we’re done,” Ellie was saying, wiping her hands off on her thighs and slinging the gun over her shoulder. “What a crazy end for your first actual patrol, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, she turned to you and saw the arrow sticking out of your side, 

“Shit,” said Ellie, jumping off Shimmer and reaching you in seconds. “Shit, shit, shit. Oh god.” 

“Am I going to die?” you asked, staring starstruck at the blood escaping the outline of the arrowhead. You couldn’t feel anything anymore. Were you in shock?

“No,” said Ellie firmly. “Absolutely not. Do you need help getting off?”

Before you could answer, she was already helping you down, carefully avoiding the protruding arrow. 

“Listen,” she said, back to being her unwavering self, “We’re right by the wall. I’m going to help you walk in, and then I’ll grab some supplies, okay? Don’t try to pull the arrow out. You hear me? Don’t.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded. She helped you walk the few steps to be carefully concealed by the wall, then grabbed the two horses and darted past you, making a break for Maria and Tommy’s cabin. 

In a haze of confusion, you could see Maria running out, holding a box out to Ellie in exchange for the reins of the horses. Ellie said something that made Maria point towards you. She nodded, then ran back to you.

By the time that she’d reached you, the shock had begun to wear off, replaced by the stinging pain from the object that had impaled you. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before in your life, and it took all you had not to keel over. 

“Hey,” she said, reaching out to grab your face so you had to look at her. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve done this before, okay? I’m, like, the master. It’s going to be alright.” 

“Done what before?” you managed to grind out. 

Ellie let go of your face to dig through the box Maria had given her, producing a needle, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and what looked like a spool of thin thread. 

Horror slowly trickled through you as you realized what was about to happen. 

“It doesn’t look all that deep,” Ellie was saying as she examined the arrow. “So I don’t think it’s hit anything. It’s just going to be a nasty hole. I’m going to pull it out now, okay?”

You let out a strangled scream as she grasped the arrow’s end and yanked it out without warning.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Ellie repeated. She threw the arrow over her shoulder and knelt so she was hovering over you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you gasped. You were most certainly not. You couldn’t quite get your eyes to focus, and your heart was beating out of your chest. 

“Alright,” she said firmly, grasping your shoulders and pulling you up so you were slumped against the wall. “Sit up straight, alright? Also, this is going to hurt.” 

At first there were just snipping sounds as she cut part of your shirt away—then something cool and wet pressed to your wound. You cried out again as a fresh white hot pain bloomed in your middle. 

“I know, I know.” Ellie’s voice was consoling as she reached up to brush away the sweaty strands of hair stuck to your forehead. “Just a few more seconds.” 

“Fuck—off—” you gritted out from your teeth. 

Ellie’s eyebrows shot up. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Just this once.” 

She released the alcohol-saturated cotton pad, throwing it aside and fussing with the thread and needle until she was satisfied. 

By the time her fingers were ghosting over your abdomen again, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the puncture wound and the needle she was wielding. 

“Don’t look,” said Ellie. “Pick something else. You don’t need to watch.” 

“I hate needles,” you whispered, choosing the air over her shoulder to be your focal point. 

There was a prodding at the top of your wound, and you hissed. 

“I can’t say I’m a fan myself.” 

Something pierced through your skin, and your midriff exploded in pain. 

The edges of your sight went fuzzy, stars forming in the corners of your vision. Someone that sounded suspiciously like you cried out. Your cheek rammed up against something solid and warm. 

Once the initial sting had faded, you realized that you’d slumped into Ellie, your face buried into her neck. She didn’t make any move to push you off, instead just taking one hand to brush up and down your arm with a feather light touch. 

“You're fine," she said firmly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Your fingers curled around the hem of her shirt as the needle exited through the other end of your wound, pulling another whine from your throat. It was easier to not feel like you were about to pass out when you were crushed into Ellie, clinging onto her and just focusing on the way she felt against you. 

“Hang on, I'm almost there,” she muttered a few stitches later. You’d quieted down, only letting out the occasional gasp as she pulled the thread through. “You're doing so well. Just one more.”

Now that you were more conscious, you had no idea how she was managing to stitch your side while you were nearly on her lap, but she continued to weave her needle through your skin, pulling it taut. 

“And done,” said Ellie. You felt her take another cotton square to swipe against your skin. 

You laid against her for a few more moments, panting as the shock slowly began to fade. She shifted, and for a moment you were sure that she was going to shove you away, but then the hand she’d lifted hesitantly rested on your head, her fingers parting to card through your hair. 

“How did you learn how to do that?” you asked, your voice muffled from where you were pressed against her. 

“Trial and error.” 

Her joke was enough for you to finally let go, sitting back against the wall. Her hand slithered out of your hair, resting back in her lap. 

“Shut up,” you said. “That’s awful.” 

Ellie shrugged. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, feeling the bumpiness of the stony wall press into your back. “I have a really low pain tolerance.”

“So I’ve noticed,” said Ellie, the side of her mouth quirking. 

“I’ve never been hurt before,” you heard yourself saying. “Like, beyond the occasional splinter or bee sting or accidental scrape or ankle sprain. It’s just not something that happens.” 

“Must be nice.”  

You smiled sadly. “Yeah. It’s not nice being weak, though.” 

Ellie looked away from you then, silent as she packed up the first-aid kit. Then: “I don’t think that’s true.” 

She’d said it lightly, like it was meant to be an offhand comment, a throwaway addition that wouldn’t be remembered by either of you. But the sentiment still struck you, twisting your heart.

You were less capable because your survival had never required anything more. You were weak because you could be. 

Her voice from the night she’d been high floated back to you. You haven't had to harden up like everyone else I know. 

Out here, weakness was a luxury few could afford. 

“Not so untouched anymore, huh?” you said, since you didn’t know how else to respond.

“I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” quipped Ellie. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. I still consider needing to be held to get 4 stitches as being soft. You haven’t changed a bit. No offense.” 

Your cheeks burned bright red. “I—”

“I’m teasing,” she said before you could defend yourself. “Arrow wounds suck. I get it.” 

“Right.” You turned away, keeping your gaze fixed firmly on the ground beside you. With feeling more yourself came the inevitable shame at what you’d just done. What had you been thinking, touching her like that? Grabbing onto her like that?

This was going to haunt you for the rest of your life. 

“Don’t make that face,” said Ellie. “I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It really is fine.” 

It was not fine. It would never be fine. You wanted the thugs to come back to life and finish you off, and then have the earth open up and swallow you for good measure. 

Ellie probably thought of you as an overgrown child. You doubted that there was ever a point where she could see you as anything equal. If she ever knew how often she appeared in your imagination, she’d probably be disgusted.

She called you pretty a contrarian voice in your head reminded you. Don't you remember?

But maybe she hadn’t meant it. She hadn’t said it explicitly: “Y/N, I think you’re pretty.” She just hadn’t argued when you’d pointed it out. Maybe because she was being nice, or maybe because she was actually being sarcastic. 

“You were really brave, okay?” said Ellie. “Your first armed confrontation and you did well.”

“I didn’t shoot anyone.”

“It could have gone worse,” said Ellie. “You could’ve accidentally shot me. Or died. And neither of those things happened, so that’s successful in my book.” 

“That’s very glass half-full of you.”

“That’s me. Ever the optimist.” 

You snorted.

~

That night, Ellie knocked on your door and asked you if you were up for another movie. You found yourself sitting on her comforter, plugging in your computer and booting it up minutes later.

Physically speaking, it had always been a little awkward to fit two people on her twin bed if they weren’t right next to each other, given that your laptop screen was a very unimpressive size. When you’d first started watching with her, Ellie would rest against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of you while you would sit with your legs crossed, positioned sideways so you weren’t accidentally pushing her legs off. 

But after the day you had had, your back was sore and your whole body ached. Sitting on something soft without any back support as you angled yourself to look at the screen was quickly proving unsustainable. 

“Pause,” said Ellie about ten minutes in. You’d been watching an older sci-fi flick—Ellie’s choice. 

You complied, leaning forward and pressing the spacebar. “What’s up?”

“Are you even comfortable sitting like that?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Liar,” accused Ellie, crossing her arms over her chest. “Don’t think I don’t see you ‘discreetly’ cracking your back every 2 minutes. It’s ruining the movie.” 

“Sorry,” you said, shaking your head and smiling in exasperation. “It’s from all the years I spent hunched over a textbook.” 

“You know, you can sit up here,” she said, patting the space beside her. “I don’t bite.”

“Jury’s still out on that,” you said, though by the time Ellie let out a laugh you were already unfolding your legs and moving so you were next to her. 

She leaned forward, grabbing the bottom half of the laptop and lifting it. “Hey, do you want a blanket?”

“Sure.” 

Ellie’s other hand grabbed the edge of her comforter and held it up. 

Hesitantly, you slid your legs under and watched as Ellie did the same, awkwardly holding the laptop in the air before you were both settled enough to rest it on your covered right thigh and her left.  “Better?”

When you nodded, she reached her tattooed arm out and pressed play. The audio picked back up, but you couldn’t for the life of you focus on the movie.

When Ellie had asked if you’d wanted a blanket, you were expecting her to toss the throw blanket that would really only fit one person at you, not invite you to get under the blankets with her. That was significantly more intimate.

You two were sitting close enough that your sides were touching, from shoulder to thigh. You could feel her chest lift with each breath, feel the heat coming off of her.

After a while, Ellie properly laid down, taking the laptop and hoisting it up so it rested on her lower abdomen as she settled into her pillow.

You gulped, your eyes flickering between her face and the screen. Ellie’s gaze was fixed intently on the screen, her eyes half lidded with exhaustion.

You could be tired too. You weren’t, of course—your heart was racing a thousand miles an hour. But she didn’t know that. It was normal to lay down next to her, right? You’d done that with Irena more times than you could count, and it was never weird. Yeah, you could do that. 

Also, if you were totally horizontal, you would stop getting distracted by the sliver of her skin that her crooked shirt showed of her chest. 

In a moment of blind courage, you scooted down so your head was lying right next to Ellie’s. She didn’t seem to react, just extending her hand from under the covers to steady the laptop as it wobbled from the movement. 

Her sheets smelled like the soap that you used to wash your hair—a cottony freshness that had the slightest hint of lavender. 

“Are you going to fall asleep on me?” asked Ellie after a while, her voice nothing more than a whisper. 

“I could ask you the same thing,” you responded, equally quiet. Then, because you hadn’t made enough rash decisions for the night, you angled your head so it rested in the space right above her shoulder. 

She inhaled sharply but didn’t move. On her next exhale a piece of her auburn hair tickled your forehead. 

“How’re your stitches?” she asked suddenly, like she'd just remembered.

“They’re okay. I think. As stitches go.”

“After this is over, I’ll check on them,” she said. “Don’t let me forget, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered, suddenly feeling shy. It was one thing for her to cut off your shirt and see your skin when she was trying to save your life while you were mentally gone. It was another thing altogether to pull up your shirt without adrenaline coursing through you.

You didn’t pay any attention to the rest of the movie, instead hyperfocused on the rhythm of Ellie’s breathing and the fact that if you moved just a little your chin would be on her shoulder. 

Her mention of the stitches wasn’t helping at all, either. Now all you could think about was the embarrassing way you’d basically tried to crawl under her skin, burying your face into her and clutching at her clothes like you were a child.

A part of you was disappointed that you hadn’t been more lucid at the time. If you had, you would’ve been able to clearly remember the softness of her skin against yours. You would’ve been able to enjoy it for what it was—the only time you’d be able to touch her like that.

Because you couldn’t go around just grabbing onto her shirt and getting into her lap. That was a one-off, the only time that the rules were waived. You couldn’t touch her like that now, now that you didn’t have any excuse. It wasn’t allowed.

But sometimes you wanted to so badly that it hurt. 

The movie ended abruptly, wrenching you out of your thoughts. 

“Hey,” whispered Ellie. “Sit up so I can see.”

Reluctantly, you pressed yourself up from your back and began rolling up the hem of your shirt. Ellie twisted to face backwards, her thin top riding up and showing part of her back as she reached for the lamp.

Once golden light returned to the room, Ellie turned back and bumped your hands away. She bent over, tilting her head so that she was looking at the stitches straight on.

They didn’t look bad, you had to admit. Though you wouldn’t consider the actual experience of getting the stitches a 5-star experience, Ellie had clearly known what she was doing. The surrounding flesh didn’t look angry or irritated, and she’d pulled the stitches just tight enough without it puckering. 

She prodded at the side, then gave a satisfied nod. “Looks good. What did I tell you? I’m really good at this sort of stuff.”

“I think you would’ve made a really good doctor,” you said once she’d sat up straight again. “Under different circumstances.”

“Is this you telling me that you don’t think I’m a good doctor now?” she teased. 

“Your bedside manner could use some work,” you offered.

Ellie laughed then, shaking her head and crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, yeah. You lived. You'll get over it.” 

“Did you go to school?” you found yourself asking, hung up on the thought of Ellie as a potential medical student. If she’d been in one of your intro biology classes, you never would’ve been able to pay attention. That was a fantasy you could shelve away for later. 

“Sort of,” said Ellie, looking down at her arms. “I went to a military prep school run by FEDRA. I didn’t graduate though—obviously. I was long gone by then.” 

“Right,” you said, remembering that she’d mentioned that she’d been 14 when she’d left Boston. “And what was it like?” 

She paused, opening her mouth before closing it. “It was—unkind. Joel's told me about schools before the outbreak. It was nothing like that. There were some normal classes, but most of it was meant to prepare us to be soldiers.” 

“Is that where you learned how to do sutures?” 

“Among other things.”

Terranova had no military academies, given that there was hardly any military presence. The founder of Terranova had bodyguards and there was a police force that controlled the borders, but it was nothing like Ellie described. With invisible borders and a social order that valued peace and tranquility over all else, there was no real danger posed to any of the citizens. 

But from what you had learned from movies and books and comments from older people, you had gathered a very dim picture of what a military academy looked like—harsh, strict, and cruel. 

“I’m sorry you had to grow up like that,” you said. 

“It’s okay.”

“Is there anything you would want to study? If you could?” 

Ellie’s eyes closed. “Yeah. There are a couple things.” 

She did not elaborate. 

~

It didn’t take long for you two to settle back into your routine of meeting in her room each evening and watching one of your downloaded movies. Following the night after you’d gotten your stitches, you wouldn’t even have to ask—Ellie would pull up her comforter and let you slide in next to her without giving you a second glance.

You’d also gotten over the fear of touching her. Now, when you flopped back so your head was on her pillow, you’d adjust until you were nestled into the crook of her neck. She never once reacted to it, remaining perfectly still unless she was adjusting the laptop or messing with the sound. 

Because it was normal, of course. You and Irena would rest your head on each other’s shoulders sometimes. That was something that friends did. 

One night a week or so into April, you and Ellie made a harrowing discovery: there was only one movie left in your collection that you two hadn’t seen together. 

“Damn,” said Ellie, furrowing her brow. “And there’s no way to get more on here?”

“I’m afraid not,” you said, frowning. “To download more or stream one, I’d need either an Ethernet cable or a wi-fi connection. Neither of which function out here anymore without cell towers and maintained cables.” 

“Right,” said Ellie, though her face told you that she didn’t understand a word that had come out of your mouth. “So—this is it?”

“Yeah.” Your finger hovered over the play button. “Savor it, I guess.” 

When you settled back and into her side, the heavy weight of dread settled into your stomach. Now that you’d finished showing her your entire collection, it’s not like she’d have a reason to invite you over every night. And there was especially no reason for you two to lie so closely together unless you were both trying to watch something on a small screen.

Once again, your excuse to touch her was gone.

You pressed closer to her as your mind raced. There was no way that Ellie didn’t see what you were doing as platonic, right? Was it possible that she was creeped out by how touchy you were but just tolerated it to be nice? 

Maybe. You swallowed hard, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen. Ellie didn’t see you like…like that. She spoke to you like you were an obligation, a burden. Because you always had been. You’d been a responsibility thrust on her by a father figure who felt like he was indebted to you from that stupid bag of coffee you were lucky enough to bring. 

Oh, god. Had Joel told her to befriend you? Had he asked for Ellie to pretend like she enjoyed spending time with you and to put up with your privileged, soft-hearted nonsense? 

The knowledge that you were spiraling wasn’t enough to stop you. You did the best that you could—tried to remind yourself that it’d been a while since she’d looked disgusted with you, recall that she was outspoken enough to tell you to fuck off if you did something she didn’t like—but it was to no avail.

Ellie reached forward and hit pause on the movie, thrusting you both into silence. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked after a moment. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“I can feel your heart going, like, crazy fast.” 

You froze. “Oh. Uh, yeah. I was just thinking.” 

Ellie pushed the laptop off of her, sitting up to give you an odd look. “About a near death experience or something? You running a marathon up there? That shit’s not normal.” 

You laughed nervously. “It’s really nothing. Just an, uh, suspenseful movie.” 

Which was actually really stupid of you to say, because you were watching some obscure Tarkovsky film that did nothing but pan over burning buildings and pensive men. For the past 5 minutes, there had been nothing on screen but the back of a car driving through traffic with minimal sound. Also, it was in Russian, and the English subtitles made zero sense.

There was a reason why this was the last movie you chose.

“This is the most boring fucking movie I’ve ever watched in my life, so you’re a dirty fucking liar,” said Ellie. Then her face pinched in worry. “Wait. Have you taken a look at your stitches lately?” 

Before you could answer, she was grabbing a flashlight off her nightstand and yanking the comforter off you. She was pulling your shirt up when you finally found your voice.

“Wait!” you said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and yanking it back in place. “It’s not—I don’t have an infection, okay? There’s nothing wrong with me. I really was just thinking, okay?”

“About what?” She reached back to place her flashlight back on the stand without taking her eyes off you. 

“It’s nothing important.”

“If you say so.” 

She picked the laptop up and placed it back on her thighs, lying back down. You followed suit, but this time you didn’t touch her, opting to keep as much distance as you could so she wouldn’t hear the stuttering of your heart. 

Not even 5 minutes had passed before Ellie sat up to pause the video again.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“No. Why?” 

“You’re acting weird,” she accused, but there wasn’t much conviction behind her voice. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean that you’re acting weird,” she repeated, shutting your laptop off and moving it to the bottom of her bed, despite the protests that left your lips. 

“I don’t understand,” you said. “I’m just watching the movie. I’m not doing anything. “

“You’re not watching the movie,” she said. “You weren’t even looking at the screen. What’s got you so bothered? Did I do something?” 

“Of course not.” You pulled your legs under you so your legs were crossed and your back was against the wall. “You don’t need to worry. It’s honestly fine. I’m sorry if I’ve done something to imply otherwise.” 

Ellie rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighing. “You stress me out. You can just tell me, you know? No need to be so cagey. I promise I’ve heard worse.” 

“Don’t be so quick to say that.”

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” she said. “I’m never going to know peace again with a hook like that.” 

You were about to open your mouth to tell her that it was stupid and that it didn’t matter, but something stopped you. 

That was the coward’s way out. That’s what you’d always done—hid your feelings and concealed your emotions. That’s how you’d been raised. That’s how you thought everyone was. But now that you’d spent 2 months in Jackson, you’d realized that some people actually just said what they thought. And that, in the grand scheme of things, it was a better system than the Terranovian culture of superficiality.  

Just because the you 2 months ago would have shook her head and changed the subject didn’t mean the you now had to. 

Maybe this you could be different. Maybe, for once, this you could be brave. 

“I really—” You stopped yourself. Saying I really like you didn’t even begin to encompass what you felt for the girl sitting across from you. To distill the sheer magnitude of your feelings down to four words felt criminal. The swell in your chest that never went away whenever you were near her could never and would never be adequately represented in the puny offerings of the Latin alphabet and the English language, and if you were going to do this, you were going to do it right. 

You dared to look up at her for a moment. She was completely still, her green eyes reflecting the dim moonlight from outside. Once you met her gaze, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull it away.

“I’m really sorry that I’m putting you in an uncomfortable position for saying this,” you began (because old habits ran deep, and you would rather die than be impolite), “And I totally understand if you don’t want to talk to me after this. And I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.”

“As much as I’m sure that this is some sort of cultural cornerstone for you, please spare me the 6 foot long disclaimer script,” Ellie drawled.

“Right.” You gulped. “Anyway. As I was saying.”

“Any day now.” 

At that moment, she had never looked more perfect. Your eyes had adjusted to the dark lighting, so the weak moonlight that spilled in from the window above her created a halo around her head. 

“It’s you.” Your voice came out tiny. “You’re all that I can think about, and I don’t know what to do.”

There. It was off your chest.

For a moment, it was as if you’d suspended time, stopping Earth on its axis as you both held your breaths. There was nothing but silence and the occasional wooden creak of the old house’s foundation in the wind. 

Ellie’s face betrayed nothing, save for something in her eyes and the disappearance of the smirk that had been on her lips moments before. 

Then she spoke, her response whispered.

“Come here, then.” 

final a/n: NOW HOLD ON before you show up outside my dorm with pitchforks and torches 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i'm so sorry but this was a necessary evil as this was going to a massive scene without the chapter break. also a disproportionately massive chapter compared to the other ones coming out. i write very quickly and should get the following part out in a timeframe similar to the first 3 parts. thank u for reading ! tell me what you think abt this chapter while you wait x

[lovetaroandtaemin]

Kinktober 2024

Day 26: Corruption

Mark Lee x Reader Word Count: 2,905 THIS FIC IS NSFW, MINORS DNI!!! Warnings: Religious themes, church boy!Mark x pastor's daughter!reader, kind of soft dom!reader, mentions of masturbation, loss of virginity, mentions of alcohol (reader and Mark are SOBER when they have sex!), semi-public sex (they're technically in public but no one is around to see), sex in the bed of a pickup truck. If you think I missed a warning, let me know! A/N: If you want to be tagged for the last few Kinktober fics, feel free to send an ask, send a dm, or leave a comment! I'm honestly starting to get a little bit bummed that Kinktober is almost over. This has been such a fun ride, and it always makes me so happy to see y'all interact with my stories. I also wanted to say that certain plot elements as well as Reader's personality/family life are heavily inspired by the song "Baptist Parking Lot" by Mary Heather Hickman. If you're a country music fan, I highly recommend checking it out!

Taglist: @unlikelysublimekryptonite

Fic is under the cut.

When Mark Lee approached you and asked you if you wanted to go on a date with him, you knew that your parents were behind it. They had been a lot pushier than usual when it came to your relationships lately, considering you were in your mid-twenties and not even dating. Plus, your mother and father were good friends with Mr. and Mrs. Lee, and had been since you were a kid, so in their mind Mark was the best possible choice when it came to men that they could set you up with.

You had never been close with Mark, but your parents and his were determined to change that. Mark was the kind of good Christian man that they felt was perfect for the daughter of a minister. He was kind, he was intelligent, and he loved God. Any time the church held an event he was one of the first to volunteer to help. He knew the Bible better than anyone you knew with the exception of your father. He was also an assistant youth pastor that was passionate about teaching people about the love of God. He even volunteered at an animal shelter, for fuck’s sake.

You, on the other hand, were far less innocent than you let your parents believe. You drank, smoked, went to the club, and hooked up with people you barely knew. Your behavior was far from what was expected of you, but that was probably why you acted the way you did. Growing up as sheltered as you did was suffocating, and now that you were an adult you wanted to do everything that your parents would have killed you for when you were younger. That didn’t mean they had to know, though. What would the congregation say if they knew the pastor’s own daughter acted like the exact opposite of what God expected from women?

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Mark’s voice saying, “Hello? Earth to (Y/N)?”

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Do you want to go get dinner with me this Saturday after I get done at the shelter?”

“That sounds great, Mark. What time do you get done?”

“I get done around 5, and I’ll need time to get ready. How does 6:15 sound?”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

“See you then, (Y/N).”

When you said yes to a date, Mark was ecstatic. Sure, he had been encouraged to ask you out by your parents, but he had liked you for a long time. You were intelligent, you were funny, and you always spoke your mind. It was sinful, and he knew it, but he honestly thought that you were sexy too. The thoughts never lingered, more passing interest when you wore clothes that showed off your body, but they were there, nonetheless.

Saturday came, and you almost backed out of your date with Mark. The main reason you didn’t was the fact that you knew you’d never hear the end of it if you did. Truthfully, though, you would have preferred going to the club with your friends or getting drunk in the back of your current hookup’s truck. You had an image to maintain, however, so you went.

Contrary to what you were expecting, you had a lot of fun with Mark. He took you to a sort-of fancy restaurant out of town, and you talked about your lives and interests while you ate. You found that the two of you had more in common than you initially thought, like a love for older music and weird movies that no one else has ever heard of. He even made you swear not to tell anyone that he wanted to try going out to a club. In a lapse of judgement, you said, “I could take you out to my favorite one, if you want.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. The regret turned to excitement, however, when Mark said “Ok. Do you wanna do that after we’re done here?”

“Are you sure? I mean, I wouldn’t want to keep you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I think it’d be fun to try something new.”

His innocent excitement killed you. When he asked you if you thought that they would have Coca-Cola at the bar, you wondered if he could get any cuter. As the two of you finished your meal, you asked again if he was sure about going to the club. He said yes, and you told him you would give him directions when you got in the car.

When Mark walked you to his car, he held your hand. It was a small gesture, but you found yourself getting flustered. He opened the car door for you, and your heart did a somersault. It almost made you wonder why you bothered with hooking up with random guys when somebody that you knew could be good to you was there the entire time.

The drive to the club was silent with the exception of you giving Mark directions. You both wanted to start a conversation, but for some reason you couldn’t find where you wanted to start. It was frustrating to be at a loss for words, but you couldn’t complain. Especially when Mark looked as good as he did in the driver’s seat. You almost felt wrong saying it about someone so sweet, but he looked hot when he focused on driving. As you pulled up to the club, you wondered if you would ever get a chance to show him how sexy you were starting to think he was. You knew that he was a good Christian, so you probably wouldn’t get a chance any time soon, but you wondered if you could move that timeline up a bit.

Your time at the club was uneventful. Mark refused to drink alcohol, was shy about dancing with you, and cast judgmental looks at everyone that left with a different person than they’d arrived with. You tried to gently encourage him to lighten up and let loose a little bit, but in the end he just asked to go back home.

He drove you back to your apartment, and you thanked him for the date. He insisted on walking you to your door, but you wouldn’t have turned him down anyway. When the two of you got to your door, he shyly asked if he could kiss you. You agreed, and he hesitantly brought his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and gently tangled your hands in his hair, and he loosened up ever so slightly. At least, it seemed like he did from the small moan that left his mouth.

He abruptly pulled away and apologized, and you gave him a reassuring smile and told him that it was ok. He left quickly and hoped that you didn’t notice the grin on his face or the boner beginning to form in his pants. Of course, you did, and you wondered if your goal of getting Mark to loosen up was closer than you thought.

The next day, your parents asked you how the date with Mark went. You told them that it went well, and to your surprise, you weren’t lying. You had fun with Mark, and you wanted to see him again. Sure, part of the reason you wanted to see him again was to see if you could teach him how to actually have fun, but your parents didn’t need to know that. They were thrilled that you seemed interested in who they believed was the right kind of man for you.

Over the next few weeks, you went out for dinner with Mark every weekend. Not much changed, but you did flirt with him much more openly than you initially wanted to as you started to develop genuine feelings for him. He became a blushy mess every time you told him how pretty his eyes were, or how well the clothes he was wearing fit him.

Mark refused to admit it, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep a level head when you flirted with him or kissed him. He didn’t want to sin, but he did occasionally find himself wanting to do more than kiss you or compliment the dresses you wore for your dates that drove him insane. You were usually dressed a very specific way when he saw you at church, but the way you dressed when you were out of your parents’ view was decidedly different. Not that he was complaining, of course. He thought that you looked sexy. Little did he know, that was exactly what you were going for.

The first time your attempt to get Mark to let loose was successful was after a few months of dating. The two of you were at his apartment after an afternoon spent volunteering, and he kissed you. You were determined to not push him today, and you kept to that. Mark, however, had other plans. The way he kissed you felt different than usual. Typically, his kisses were soft, almost like he was afraid of going too far. This time, those concerns seemed to go out the window as he held you close.

To say that you were desperate was an understatement. You hadn’t had sex with anyone else since you started dating Mark, and you were starting to get frustrated. You had tried getting off by yourself, but it just wasn’t the same as fucking another person. It was getting more and more difficult to not think about Mark on top of you as you kissed him.

Mark was just as desperate as you were, if not more. He had never had sex before. Partially because of the stupid purity promise he made in church as a teenager, and partially because he had never met anyone that he was comfortable being so intimate with. That was, until you came along. It felt like you were ruining him, in a way. Before you started dating, he would have never considered having someone sit on his lap while making out. Now, that was exactly what the two of you were doing.

Time passed, and you had to leave. It was important for you to get enough sleep in order to not look like a complete wreck at church on Sunday. As you left, though, Mark asked you if you would be willing to try something new next time. You asked him what it was, and he said, “I want you to take my virginity.” You were shocked, but you agreed. The two of you decided to discuss exactly when at a later date, and you went back to your apartment.

Church went by the next morning without any major news or events, except for one thing. Mark was uncharacteristically awkward and shy around you. Since you had started dating, he had made a point to sit next to you, sometimes holding your hand during your father’s sermons. Today, however, he sat on the opposite side of the sanctuary from you, not even looking you in the eye when you greeted him upon arriving. You decided to ask him about his behavior after service.

When you finally found Mark, you asked him if he wanted to come back to your apartment. He reluctantly agreed, and you left. He followed in his truck, and when he entered your apartment, you asked him why he was so distant at church.

He sighed before answering, “I’m sorry about what I asked of you last night. It was too far, and I understand if you want to break things off or slow things down.”

“Baby, it’s ok. Any reaction that you saw last night was surprise. As long as it’s something you really want, I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t mind the fact that I’m not a virgin.”

“I don’t mind at all. I love you. Thank you for being so patient with me.”

“I love you, too.”

The two of you spent the afternoon discussing when you would take Mark’s virginity. Your previous sexual encounters had never been planned in advance, but you wanted Mark to feel more at ease about his first time. In the end, the two of you decided to drive to an abandoned parking lot a few towns over, so no one would know what the two of you were skipping Bible study on Wednesday to do. You even came up with a lie about being invited by a friend to visit another church that you could tell your parents to explain your absence.

The idea of skipping church to lose his virginity should have disgusted Mark, but in actuality, it thrilled him. Maybe you had been a worse influence than he thought. He didn’t really care about that, though. All he knew was that he loved and trusted you, and he wanted to show you just how much he loved and trusted you.

When the day finally came, the two of you were filled with excitement. You went about most of your day as usual, but after you got done work, you drove to the abandoned parking lot that you’d told Mark about. He did the same, and the two of you settled into the bed of his truck. Bless him, he’d even covered it with blankets and pillows to make you more comfortable.

When Mark kissed you, you couldn’t help but tangle your hands in his hair. He groaned at the sensation, and it made you want him. To be fair, you always wanted him, but in the moment, he was all you could think about. If the way he kissed you was any indication, he needed you just as badly.

After a few minutes, you pulled away and started kissing Mark’s neck. He moaned again, and you only got more desperate for him. It wasn’t long before you couldn’t take it anymore, so you lifted your head and asked Mark if he still wanted to go further. He seemed nervous, but his excitement as he said yes made you feel better about the situation. He shyly explained that he didn’t really know what he was doing, and you promised to help him the entire time.

You started by unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his boxers down. Then you lifted your dress and removed your own underwear. After that, you settled into a comfortable position and instructed him to climb on top of you. He did exactly as he was told, and you helped him guide his cock into your pussy for the first time.

The moan that fell from Mark’s lips as he felt you for the first time was heavenly. You desperately wanted to hear more, but you still told him to wait before he moved so both of you could adjust. Again, he did exactly as you asked. It was honestly kind of adorable how eager he was to please you.

Once you were ready, you gently instructed Mark to move. He started to slowly thrust in and out trying to avoid overwhelming himself right away. He loved you, and he wanted to make this last. You couldn’t help but want the same, slightly overwhelmed already by the amount of love and care he was showing you. It may have been frustrating to wait so long to have sex with Mark, but the wait was worth it. This was infinitely better than the cheap hookups you’d had before.

After a few minutes, Mark started to thrust slightly faster. When he saw the way your tits bounced, it was difficult for him to control himself. Still, he kept a steady pace as he fucked into you. Sex with you was the most pleasure that he’d ever felt. Sure, he had jerked off a handful of times, though he was embarrassed to admit to that, but his hand could never compare to you.

It didn’t take long for Mark to feel an orgasm approaching, though he tried as hard as he could to last. He slowed down slightly once he felt it, but that did the opposite of what he wanted. Rather than putting off his orgasm, it only brought him closer to the brink. He hurriedly warned you that he was close and asked you what to do now. You said, “Cum inside me, baby. It’s ok.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Mark stilled inside you, moaning your name as he rode out his orgasm. Feeling Mark’s release triggered your own, and before you knew it you were clenching around his cock as you cried out in pleasure. He was still after you both came down from your highs, reveling in the closeness of the moment. The position had gotten uncomfortable, however, so you gently asked him to move.

Mark did as he was told, finding a sort-of clean towel in the back of his truck to wipe you and himself off with. You put your clothes back on and helped him to do the same. Then the two of you just held each other, saying nothing but knowing that this wouldn’t be the last time the two of you had sex in his truck when you were supposed to be in church. As he held you close, you couldn’t help but feel proud of the fact that you had helped Mark Lee loosen up and learn to have some fun.

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to see what else I've written so far and the rest of what's planned, you can find my Kinktober masterlist here. If you'd like to read one of my non-Kinktober works, you can find my general masterlist here. If you'd like to see what I'm going to be working on once Kinktober is over, you can find my upcoming works here. If none of that interests you, or there's something specific you'd like to see, send a request via asks or dms!

Thank you again for reading, happy spooky season!

[alpaca-clouds]

The Search for a Solarpunk Anime

Allow me to think aloud for a moment. Because I noticed something.

Whenever people ask for movie recommendations or anime recommendations for Solarpunk, a movie that often gets named is Netflix's Bubble. And on one hand... I get it. The aesthetic of the movie is more Cozy Apocalypse than Solarpunk (aka lots of greens on the buildings and what not, but not because they have been planted there to make a better environment, rather than because the buildings falling into disrepair). But it scratches that certain itch, aesthetically.

Yet, the movie does not really feel Solarpunk to me. While one can argue that the folks who have fled into the bubble zone are kinda anarchistic in that they do lack clear hierarchies, they also do not do a ton of mutual aid, rather competing over ressources. Which to me is the issue. The movie does not have a lot of that Solarpunk spirit. Not much in terms of either mutual aid or environmental protection going on. It just has a pretty green aesthetic. (Though it should be said: Fucking darn, that movie is pretty.)

Of course, the obvious answer to name when it comes to Solarpunk anime movies is Studio Ghibli. Obvious, because the studio is one of the central inspirations behind the genre. So, duh, yes, there are quite a few Ghibli movies out there that are pretty darn Solarpunk. Most notably of course Nausicaä, Laputa and Princess Mononoke. These movies all are not only Solarpunk in some aesthetic aspects, but also when it comes to the themes inspiring them. Which is kinda funny to me, because neither of the movies is classical science fiction - making clear that scifi really is not a prerequesit for the genre.

But there is also another genre, I would say. And that genre is the movies, that do not have much of the aesthetic - outside maybe a vague cottagecore aesthetic - but have a lot of the themes I associate with Solarpunk.

To me two of those movies are Ame to Yuki: Wolf Children, and Misaki no Mayoiga. I already talked about the second movie, but just to sum up: Both movies really go deeply into the aspects of community building, mutual aid and also living in harmony with nature in some degree. Both very much show that we are really good at helping each other. And that you can have a good life without rigid organisation. And I really fucking love that about those movies.

Funnily enough: While funnily enough Makoto Shinkai with his generous aesthetic does have some scenes in several of his movies that just have the aesthetic flair of Solarpunk, I would say that thematically Suzume is the one most in line with the genre. Because it, too, as a lot of themes of mutual aid and just forming community and what not.

And I do not know. Maybe we are gonna see more of that stuff in the future?

[dootznbootz]

Me: Almost done listening to the Iliad on audiobook, and planning to listen to the Odyssey next

Me: Goes on youtube to find a quick summary to listen to before hand

Me: Clicks on a promising video

Video, in the first 30 seconds: Haha he cheats on his wife!

Me, in a bad mood now, even though I should have seen that coming: Never-fucking-mind, then

Yep. ;~;

Quick tip for ya: Honestly don't trust really ANY "Youtube" summary of it. Especially the ones where they are mostly trying to be "entertaining" and/or "funny" instead of educational. Also they mostly likely won't be "respectful".

I'm not saying this as a "don't trust any academic source! Historians are evil!!!" I'm saying this as a "there are very biased and very opinionated folks out there and I recommend going over multiple sources just for you to get your own opinion formed on it as well!".

I mean...Madeline Miller?

And you know what? I'll vent about how much I hate Robert Graves' takes on Greek Myth. >:(

I once got an old used book about mythology by Robert Graves and I was excited to read it! But it was genuinely just...so fucking MEAN. Insulting to stories, calling them stupid, flip-flopping on "Goodhearted" to "malicious". It seems like he was a bit more of a critic and/or thought his "headcanons" as "fact". (I say this as someone who has many headcanons and gets real silly with it. At a certain point though, YOU GOTTA STATE THE FACTSSS)

An example from it: (talking about Menelaus and Helen's marriage) "Yet their marriage was doomed to failure: years before, while sacrificing to the gods, Tyndareus had stupidly overlooked Aphrodite, who took her revenge by swearing to make all three of his daughters--Clytemnestra, Timandra, and Helen--notorious for their adultries"

Very much dislikes Odysseus, (like holy crap, even his good deeds are said mockingly) while he seems to "like" Menelaus, still calls him stupid. Seems to really like Paris?? like "Oh yeah, he needed Aphrodite to help him steal a woman who didn't love him but he's just a guyyy~"

"Athen now inspired Prylis, son of Hermes, to suggest that entry should be gained into Troy by means of a wooden horse; Epeius, son of Panopeus, a Phocian from Parnassus, volunteered to build one under Athene's supervision. Afterwards, of course, Odysseus claimed all the credit for the Stratagem"

He implies Helen and Odysseus possibly having romantics when he sneaks into Troy to steal the Palladium. Implies Odysseus made up Cassandra's rape by Lesser Ajax, as "Cassandra did not support the charge".

"Little Ajax's alleged violation of Cassandra was dismissed by reputable mythographers as an Odyssean lie"

Implies that Odysseus was only angry about Pallamedes embarrassing him, NOT BECAUSE HE NEARLY KILLED HIS BABY AND MADE HIM GO TO WAR. He implies "Icarius' daughter (Penelope)" to be another "victim" (???) of Odysseus? He also kissed poor Calypso goodbye and seems determined to never talk about how much Odysseus cares about his family. only that he wants to go home, Penelope being an afterthought.

This is a "Greek Mythology book"...and yet it's biased as fuck. :/

And ofc, people deny Odysseus being a victim.. Obviously there is sexism at play here, with the "Oh Odysseus loved it! He was getting laid!" despite being held at PigPoint and literally getting fucking raped and crying everyday. ;~; it's very disheartening and honestly disturbing.

Honestly I recommend reading/listening to at least 2 (or more) to try and get a "full picture" as just like Madeline Miller and Robert Graves, there are biases in each one. (Emily Wilson is very biased for example) Some of them while favorable toward Odysseus, also favor Circe and Calypso. Some mock Menelaus and Helen. It depends.

Like I've read 8 translations of the Odyssey (I like it :3 you don't have to be insane like me though. <3 ) and all basically say the same thing with the Goddesses as "It was not a good time. He adores Penelope."

Two or three is probably enough, and that's also if you just wanna know if there's any differences between events based on the translator. so sometimes if you wanna know the differences in wording (as some translations have very cute wording) you can just find that part in the Odyssey that you are curious to see if there are differences. :)

I hope you have fun!

[cherries-in-wine]

I love ur posts on lolita the book- what are ur thoughts on the movies?

aw tysm anon mwah <3

(Made a few edits because my perspective changed a little)

I don't really like the movies- in fact comparing them to the masterpiece that Vladimir Nabokov wrote feels like an insult. Sometimes art can only exist in a certain medium and when you take it out of that medium it loses its integrity. Lolita is art that can only exist as literature. This is what I used to believe but to be honest even as literature it's being misunderstood a lot so it feels as if no matter what medium lolita exists in, it'll always be interpreted wrong.

It took Vladimir Nabokov 5 years to write lolita because writing from the perspective of a pedophile is tough- it's using the abuser to tell the victim's story but in this case the abuser is our unreliable narrator, he had to make Humbert Humbert charming or at least intriguing in a fucked up way enough that the reader would be compelled to read further (lolita will disturb you but you won't able to put it down) but any competent reader would will be able to figure out that Humbert Humbert is just spewing his delusional bullshit.

It feels as if Vladimir Nabokov predicted the romanticization of Lolita as soon as we started putting girls on the book covers- he intended on lolita being faceless

So much of what makes the book incredible lies in reading in between the lines to figure out what's actual going on. Think of it as Humbert Humbert is forcing his heart shaped rose coloured glasses onto you like "see it's a beautiful tragic love story" and it's your responsibility to take them off to see things as they are, a 12 year old child being abused constantly.

Unreliable narrators in general are hard to portray on screen (it's not impossible ofcourse, gone girl, 500 days of summer and black swan do it really well) but extra difficult in this case because lolita and Dolores are 2 different people entirely. Lolita is the persona, Dolores is the person. Lolita is the nymphet, the seductress that only exists in Humbert's twisted mind, Dolores is the 12 year old child. Humbert sees lolita, he wants you to see lolita, but you need to focus on Dolores.

Lolita 1962 was laughably inaccurate, they made Dolores look like an elegant woman when even Humbert Humbert describes her as a messy tomboy. Lolita 1997 is better I guess, it follows the book a little more accurately. The movie is definitely pretty to look at and I don't have a problem with Dolores being an icon or people taking fashion inspiration from her. In my opinion she is an icon, it isn't fair to reduce a victim's identity to their trauma and abuser. Also she's so funny and is constantly insulting Humbert so mwah love her so much plus I relate to her a lot as I went through similar things. I think some scenes of Humbert Humbert being an unreliable narrator were translated really well, for example this argument-

Humbert gave a short description while the movie is more of lo's point of view, it's all screaming and shouting and absolutely devastating, Dominique Swain did an amazing job.

Both of the actresses were 14 during filming and that's just so unsettling to me. Sure you're using a body double for explicit scenes but isn't that just content for actual pedophiles, the closest thing to CP that's legal?. There are many older actresses that look younger but honestly that scares me more, because now there are no restrictions to the scenes they can film, which usually ends up underage characters in extremely exploitative scenes (think euphoria).

My feelings are sort of all over the place on this, I simply can't reach a satisfying conclusion- I don't think it's impossible to adapt lolita into a good film, black swan is one of my favourite movies ever and nina sayers is as unrealiable as a narrator gets, so it's not impossible to portray Humbert Humbert on screen but it will be difficult. On the other hand I just know that people will find some way to romanticize the movie- no matter how well it's written like in the novel it's so obvious Humbert is a pedophile that he might as well get it tattoed on his head but people still think of it as "aw tragic beautiful love story". But part of me thinks that if they write it kind of like gone girl, you believe nick is the murderer in the first half then amy's scheming is revealed in the second, just like that if lolita is shown in the first half but after dolores runs away her perspective is shown to audience, how she's so miserable and gives an accurate depiction of Humbert Humbert's abuse, maybe showing that horrifying reality of the story will end it's romanticization once and for all.

[fatkish]

Funny (Y/N) x MHA

Inside the teachers lounge:

(Y/n): *looking at Aizawa from across their desks* choke me with your thighs daddy.

Aizawa: no

Vlad and Hizashi: *spits out drinks*

All Might: *chokes as blood spills from his mouth*

——————————————————————————

All might: Is the plural of milf/dilf milfs/dilfs or milves/dilves?

Aizawa: Milfs.

(Y/n): Milf/dilf is an acronym, you can't change the spelling to milves/dilves.

All might: Wait, they're acronyms? What do they stand for???

Hizashi: Mom in late forties, dad in late fourties.

Hizashi: I learned that from the movie called M.I.L.F that I saw the trailer of in theaters probably 5 to 7 years ago.

(Y/n): Mom/dad I'd Love to Fuck.

All might: WAIT, WHAT THE FUCK—

All might: I NEVER REALIZED IT WAS ACTUALLY HORNY!

Hizashi: Oh, is it not mom in late fouries?

Aizawa: What? No! It isn't!

Hizashi: THE MOVIE TRAILER LIED TO ME!

(Y/n): Hizashi...

Hizashi: THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T THINK CALLING PEOPLE MILFS WAS ALL THAT BAD BECAUSE IT STOOD FOR SOMETHING HARMLESS IT JUST HAD A SLIGHTLY SEXUAL CONNOTATION!

(Y/n): I am entirely unsurprised that this is coming from you.

Hizashi: ALL MIGHT, DOES IT MAKE SENSE WHY I CALLED THE DIARY OF A WIMPY KID MOM A MILF NOW BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A DESCRIPTOR WITH FUNNY CONNOTATION!

All might: The word milf has been ruined for me.

Aizawa: THAT'S ITS DEFINITION, IT CAN'T BE RUINED THAT'S WHAT IT MEANS!

(Y/n): Y'all are dumbasses.

——————————————————————————

Midnight: Subs are so fun to play with. All you have to do is hint at what you might do, back them into a corner with a look, or grab their wrist in a certain way and they're a wide-eyed mess.

Hizashi: What the fuck kind of Subway are you going to?

Aizawa: Substitute teachers deal with so much shit.

(Y/n): Guys

——————————————————————————

All might: Whose turn is it to give the pep-talk?

(Y/n): *sighing* Aizawa.

Aizawa: Fuck shit up out there, but don’t die.

Hizashi: *wiping away a tear* So inspirational.

——————————————————————————

*Bakusquad is learning CPR on a test dummy*

(Y/n): So, assessing the situation. Are they breathing?

Kirishima: No, (Y/n). They are not breathing. And they have no arms or legs.

(Y/n): No, that’s not part of it—

Mina: Where are they? You know what? If we come across somebody with no arms or legs do we bother resuscitating them? I mean, what kind of quality of life do we have there?

Denki: I would want to live with no legs.

Bakugou: How about no arms? No arms or legs is basically how you exist right now, Sparky. You don’t do anything.

(Y/n): All right, well, lets get back to it. ‘Cause you’re losing him.

Kirishima: *pumps frantically*

(Y/n): Okay, too fast. Everyone, we need to pump at a pace of a 100 beats per minute.

Sero: Okay, that’s uh, hard to keep track. How many is that per hour?

Bakugou: How’s that gonna help you Tape arms?

Sero: I will divide and then count to it.

Bakugou: Right.

(Y/n): Okay. Well, a good trick is to pump to the tune of ‘Staying Alive’ by the Bee Gees. Do you know that song?

Denki: Yes, yes I do. I love that song. *clears throat, begins to sing* First I was afraid, I was petrified.

——————————————————————————

Y/n), on the phone: Uh. . Hey, Hizashi , i uh, I’ve been stabbed.

All Might: WHAT? WHERE ARE YOU?

(Y/n): Wait- You aren’t Hizashi . Sorry- I didn’t mean to call you-

All Might: NO, WHERE ARE YOU? IM COMING THERE. IM NOT GOING TO LEAVE SOMEONE ALONE THATS BEEN STABBED.

——————————————————————————

Aizawa: Your smug self-assuredness is revolting.

(Y/n): I think we need to validate self confidence more, lest you end up angry at others for having even a sliver of it. I've done nothing wrong and I have a heart of gold.

Vlad king: I think this message is extremely valid, but also (Y/n) has implied wanting to set off the Yellowstone supervolcano, so what's the truth?

(Y/n): I want to set it off.

——————————————————————————

(Y/n): Why are you like this??

Aizawa: I used too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since.

——————————————————————————

Dabi: I'm trash.

(Y/n): As someone who's environmentally conscious, it's my duty to pick you up. Does 7 work for you?

Dabi:

Dabi: You smooth motherfucker.

Dabi: And yes it does.

——————————————————————————

(Y/n): Crushes are the worst. Whenever I’m near mine, I start acting stupid.

Aizawa: You always act stupid.

Aizawa:

Aizawa: Wait…

——————————————————————————

Twice: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed.

Dabi:

Dabi: I'm gonna tell them.

(Y/n): Don't you dare.

——————————————————————————

Toga: You really believe in (Y/n)?

Tomura: Luckily, they believe in themself enough for the both of us.

——————————————————————————

Kurogiri: I had to pick up (y/n) early.

Mr. Compress: That’s alright. Have they been sick?

Tomura: No, not sick, they’re just very upset because they’ve had a hard day.

Dabi: Wait, why did they have a hard day?

Tomura: They took their two pet snails to school with them today, and they had the snails in their book bag. They let out the snails by the sink in the back of the classroom for some exercise, and some kid, who was visiting the class that day, thought they were snails that had come inside from the playground, so they threw (y/n)’s snails out the window.

Dabi: Oh my god.

Kurogiri: I know you are laughing, guys, but please act sad about it when they get home today.

Dabi: I’ll try but that is hilarious.

Tomura: Yeah, I know. Stupid pet snails.

Tomura: I’m trying not to let (y/n) see me laugh.

——————————————————————————

(Y/n): Guys, I’ve been meaning to tell you… Aizawa and I are dating.

Nedzu, Hizashi, All Might, and Aizawa: *gasp*

(Y/n): Aizawa, why are you surprised?!

——————————————————————————

(Y/n), about Hizashi and Aizawa: My god, would you two just get a room already?

Aizawa: Excuse me, (Y/n)?

(Y/n): You both just keep agreeing about horrifying things and relishing everybody else's misery. So seriously, when's the wedding?

Hizashi: ...

Nedzu: I ship it!

All Might: CAN YOU NOT?

——————————————————————————

(Y/n): Which one of you was going to tell me that tea tastes different if you put it in hot water??

Nedzu: Y- you were putting it in cold water??

Aizawa: (Y/n). Answer the question, (Y/n).

(Y/n): Yeah??? I thought people just put it in hot water to speed up the tea-ification process. didn't realize there was an actual reason.

(Y/n): Plus you think I have the patience to boil water?

Nedzu: You don't have the patience to microwave water for 3 minutes??

Aizawa: Why are you putting it in the microwave to boil it?

Nedzu: Do you think I have the patience to boil water on the stove?

Aizawa: It takes less than a minute.

Nedzu: Is your stovetop powered by the fucking sun???

Aizawa: How long does it take you to boil a cup of water on the stove?

Nedzu: Like seven minutes??

All Might: Just stick the mug on top of the stove on medium heat and it boils in like 2 minutes... less than that if you use a saucepan!

Aizawa: Why are you putting the whole mug on the stove?? On medium heat?? All Might? Your stove is enchanted!

(Y/n): Every single person here is a fucking lunatic.

Hizashi: Do none of you own a fucking kettle?!

[fernsnailz]

HI . GET ON THE DISSECTION TABLE. taking your brain RIGHT NOW OH MY GODDDDD. OH MY god ,,, everything in the zine,,,,,

obviously the quality of your work, the art itself is so good ,,,, but OUGHHGGGGHGH i need to bang my head into a wall until im unconscious . like the title itself, starting off . woe mama we are in for a fucked up roboty treat . your comps . your writing . in the most respectful and awestuck tone possible . i need to kill you

my favorite i think is how you draw gemerl ,, all the robots you nail their expressiveness but oughh ,, him in particular makes me kick my feet . 'you are everything i fear becoming' makes me actually tear the fucking floorboards up the themes of autonomy ,,,,,, ,,, and how you storytell through your comic panels,,, the 'what a fool you are to think the doctor is gone' panel set makes me drink 2 Monsters and eat glass

THE . THE IMPOSSIBLE GOAL COMIC RAGHHHHHH. FAV FAV FAV . geninely shaking and trembling looking at it like jesus thats so fucked up ,,, your mind . your writing is so everything !! i would love to get any insight for how you workshop it because it is consistently breathtaking it sticks with me so heavily,,, one time i accidentally stole a line of dialogue word for word from your Never turn back zine comic and had to change it dfhjd,,,,, (wow this line is so cool ! ...a little toooo cool. squint.) but yeah god the last comic wow,, your panel compositions are banger after banger you are so good at consistently writing evocative stuff,,, tragic, rlly funny, hopeful, its so inspirational

thank u so much for putting together such a cool zine, would love to have it physically one day !

GOD. THANK YOU SO MUCH THIS EDIT IS KILLING ME. this is such a rewarding ask to get, i'm so glad you picked up on these things!!

my writing work shopping style is. hm. a bit all over the place. i have a lot of thoughts about it i'll put under a cut if you're interested. there's a lot of little things i've picked up that help me out so so much that i would really love to share!

ok FIRST i should note that it took me so goddamn long to write this thing. like i had the very very VERY first concepts for metal sonic good future like. a year ago. the first scrawlings are literally in a notebook right after some thumbnails i was using for dance in fire and i was editing dialogue up until two days ago. i'm ill

BUT!!! there are a few things i like to keep in mind when i write/edit that have really helped me!

GET OTHER PEOPLE TO READ YOUR STUFF. ESSENTIAL STEP. i get stuck in holes with my work a lot and having beta readers and other eyes on this thing made it like a million times better

sometimes you have to kill your baby. there will be certain lines or moments that you ADORE that simply don't fit into the larger piece, and you gotta just cut it out to make it better sometimes. but usually this gives birth to an even cooler and more epic baby. or sometimes your killed baby is also resurrected later to be used in a different scene. does this make any sense

figuring out what emotion you want a scene to make people feel is very important - with this in mind, i also pay really close attention to how my writing or scene concepts make me feel physically. i think this is the thing that has helped me most with work shopping anything i want to be evocative. does a line make me tense my jaw? make my teeth vibrate? make my chest tight? do i suddenly feel the blood in my hands? if it makes me feel something within my body, i try to draw on that physical sensation when forming the rest of the scene.

ok this last one is. stupid. as i was wrapping up this thing i went through a final edit phase i'd call "Garten of Banban Vision." Garten of Banban is an indie horror game that has uhhh kinda mid dialogue. a lot of it focuses on exposition, and any emotion in it feels a bit hollow. with this in mind, i read through everything one last time and imagined like all of the lines were from a Garten of Banban game and spoken in the character's monotone voices. if the line felt like it could fit a little too well in the Garten of Banban world, i considered editing it. but if i started thinking "oh shit this is pretty good for a Garten of Banban game" i knew it was fine. do you understand what i was alluding to when i said my writing process is a bit all over the place

in conclusion. writing hard

[modelbus]

This might be more on the angst side… oops? Also, this is like 3k words… There are POV switches!! And this was inspired by an ao3 story with a similar premise but that was with Kaz and Wylan so there’s that.

There is alcohol and suggestiveness in this! Be warned, it’s a bit different than my usual!

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

Flufftober 4 - It’s All An Act (Spies)

"Sorry, what?" You stare at Kaz, and he stares back evenly.

"It's a simple mission. You don't have to do anything."

"Then why do you need me?"

He sighs, gloved hand tightening and loosening on his crow cane. Without a doubt, he was upset at you for not getting it, but forgive you for being a little startled when he asks you to pretend to date him!

"It'll be too suspicious if I show up alone. All I need you for is pretending to date me. But carry some weapons in case things go... awry."

"You want me to go with you to a party, pretend to date you, and... that's it?"

"That's it."

You stare at him for a few more moments, trying to figure out if he had any other angle. Most times, Kaz Brekker kept his crows in the loop. But there were times when he didn't, and you knew him too well to not try and figure out if it was or wasn't.

Although you were the second newest crow (thanks to Wylan for taking the newest title) you and Kaz actually somewhat got along. You’re certain it's because he values you ability to kill without hesitation. That's what you are to him: his assassin. Your role, your one job, was to kill and to kill efficiently. 

He didn't question why you were able to kill so easy, and you didn't question his aversion to touch and water. You got along, and things were fine.

Or, they were, until you had to go and start noticing stupid things about him. Like the way he looked mid-fight, slamming his cane into someone. Or the way his lips would barely twitch when one of them said something particularly funny. It took you a bit to realize, but when you did you knew you were royally fucked.

Because, of course, you started to develop feelings for Kaz Brekker. Feelings that, as long as you were sane, would stay quite hidden. Which only made this whole job harder.

He wanted you to pretend to date him. It might just be the hardest thing he's asked of you yet, and he doesn't even know it.

"Take the job. Wish I could go to a party." Jesper grumbles, and you glance at the sharp shooter sitting next to you.

"Unfortunately, no one in their sound mind would believe we were dating." Kaz says cooly. "That, and everyone knows your face around here."

You grimace. Your own insurance, coming to bite you in the ass. Most people only saw you face before you killed them. It was easier to sneak around in plain sight that way. Obviously the crows were the exceptions, and maybe a few others out there.

"You're sure nobody else wants to do this?" You try.

"Wylan and Jesper are far too in love for me to take Wylan, Inej is out hunting slavers, and Nina..." He shakes his head. 

"Fine. Whatever. I'll do the stupid job."

You sigh, knowing this job very well might be the death of you. Emotional death, that is. But then again, it was Kaz. Surely he wasn't the type to be a touchy fake date, not with his touch aversion.

"Good. Meet me down here at nine sharp tomorrow night. Dress nice, have concealed weapons."

Kaz walks off, not waiting for you to confirm you understood his directions. You scowl at his back before sighing. 

"This will be a disaster."

"I'm sure it'll be fun!" Jesper exclaims. "It's a party, how bad can it be?"

"I have to fake date Kaz Brekker." You deadpan.

"Yeah, but he wants you for arm candy. To draw the attention away from him. That's the closest to a compliment you'll ever get out of him."

You can't help but sigh again. "We take what we can get with him, don't we?"

-

Kaz is waiting for you outside the Crow Club when you arrive. He isn't dressed any different from his normal, except a pocket watch with a fancier chain than you’re used to. His gaze is level as he gazes at you as you walk towards him.

And you knows you looks good, but that isn't why he's looking at you. You’re in a nice outfit for once, flowing sleeves down to your wrists, and black gloves up to your elbows nearly. The gloves and long sleeves were carefully planned, knowing exactly what role you’d be playing tonight.

"How many knives do you have?" Kaz asks, looking behind you, almost like he's checking to see if you were followed by anyone. 

"Seven." You grin. You may be a pretty distraction tonight, but you’re just as dangerous as you are pretty.

"Good." He nods. Not approval, but close enough. "Let's go."

You walk next to him as they go through the streets of Ketterdam, slowly heading to the more expensive places. The streets widen, becoming more and more lit as they go, and you realize that maybe you should've asked whose party this was.

"So, Brekker. Lovely night, isn't it?" You ask conversationally. From the very start You’ve always used his last name, and haven’t even thought of changing that despite how he always ground his teeth at it.

"What do you want?" He snaps.

"Come on, be nicer to your date." You can't help yourself. Kaz might not react much, but it's funny when he does react.

"This was a bad idea."

"But we're too far into it now."

Kaz's jaw clenches, and you can't help but laugh quietly. "So, the plan?"

He sighs, and you wait a moment. Although he's sometimes an asshole, and mostly keeps things to himself, he's always told you everything you needed to know in a plan.

"Just look pretty and act stupid. Do what I tell you, for once." He finally says.

"Oh, yikes, that'll be really hard. I mean, listening to you?" You joke.

Kaz pulls up short, slamming his cane out in front of you. "I mean it, assassin." 

And just as you called him Brekker, he called you by your job. Assassin. 

"You can't call me that tonight." You respond calmly. "It'll give us away."

"Say it." 

You groan. "Fine. I'll listen to you."

He nods sharply, continuing on. "Good."

"You're a little paranoid, don't you think?"

Kaz doesn't even justify you with an answer at that one, leaving you to walk alongside him quietly. 

"This is it." He announces suddenly, and draws up short.

You let your eyes flicker over the building—tons of windows—then return to him. "...are you sure?"

"Yes. Inside. Now."

The second you take a step in, you shrink yourself. Shoulders curling in, angling yourself towards Kaz. You can feel his eyes on you as you do so, raking over you.

"Loosen up." He instructs you in a low voice.

"Easy for you to say." You murmur back. "You're not the one pretending to be the crow's whore."

"Someone's said that to you before."

It's not a question. Of course it isn't. Kaz's eyes sharpen, hardening into something mean in front of you.

"Not now." You say dismissively.

He glares at you but gives you a curt nod, and together you walk into the party. You, just for tonight, let yourself revel in the eyes being drawn to you. You give a taunting grin to someone they walk by, playing up your role a little.

Look pretty? Yeah, you can do that.

"Mr. Brekker." A merchant says, his eyes sliding from Kaz to you. "And..."

"Alex." you purr, tilting your head.

Like hell you’re giving your real name out to anyone here. Instead, Alex, a random name, will have to do.

"My date." Kaz cuts in smoothly. "Don't mind them."

"Pretty." The merchant says appraisingly. You should be flattered, but you’re more disgusted.

Kaz tilts his head, studying you. "Yes." He agrees coldly. "Get a drink, we're going to talk business. Loosen up."

You pause, but this certainly isn't the time to mention that youve never drank before. Instead you give him a graceful nod, floating off through the crowds. 

The bar is an open bar, you can tell that from the lazy way the bartender is flashing his watch. Nobody here is expected to get drunk, or to steal it. Unfortunately for them, you and Kaz are here, so no watch is safe.

"I'll have a drink." You say lightly, leaning on the counter.

"Of?" The bartender asks, snorting.

Shit.

"Make me what you're best at." You answer, looking at him through your eyelashes. It should be a safe answer.

By the way the bartender smiles and starts to make something, it is. A second later a glass of something is slid your way. Here's to hoping this won't fuck with you too much.

-

Kaz Brekker

He's starting to get a little worried. Not too much, he knows you can handle yourself perfectly fine, but it has been a while since he sent you off. You weren’t at the bar: he's been checking it every few moments.

It's starting to piss him off. One job, one easy job, and you can't even follow that. There was no point in bringing you if you was just going to vanish. 

"Come on, Assassin." He murmurs, still scanning the crowd.

Truthfully, he shouldn't be calling you that here. Alex was the name you gave the merchant earlier, and Alex was the name he should be calling you by. He isn't sure where Alex came from, actually.

It doesn't matter. What does matter is what he came here for, and finding you. 

Of course, right as he's about to turn back to the real reason he's here, there's a clatter of decidedly sour guitar strings. Most don't turn towards the noise, but Kaz does. And when he sees, his entire body freezes.

Because where else would you be except talking to the guitar player. And, from the looks of it, flirting with him.

"There you are." Kaz says, striding to you, feeling like yelling. "I've been looking for you."

"Sorry." You chirp, grinning brightly at him.

At that, he falters. When was the last time he saw a smile that bright, that genuine? Actually, scratch that, when had you ever apologized to him?

He leans closer, whispering in your ear, words coming out more as a snarl than anything else. "What are you doing, Assassin?"

"Me?" You ask, looking genuinely surprised. "I'm talking to the guitar player! I used to play guitar, you know, before my father broke it."

He flicks his eyes over you. Not once have you ever divulged information about your personal life, and not once did Kaz ever ask.

"You're drunk?" He asks, incredulously.

"Me? Drunk?" You gasp, stumbling.

With a lurch, he grabs your arms to stop you from hitting the floor. Even through his gloves, it sends a jolt up his spine.

"Three layers." You slur, and he realizes you’re comforting him while drunk. "Don't panic."

"How much did you drink?" He demands lowly, dragging you to a darker corner.

"Three. Maybe four."

"Three what?"

Only three drinks shouldn't have messed you up this much, not unless they were straight vodka or something ridiculous.

"I don't know." 

He stares at you. It isn't like you to be so... careless.

"What do you mean you don't know?" He snaps.

"I've never drank before." Kaz's jaw goes slack. You’ve never drank before? This is your first time drinking? Ever? "Hey, anyone ever tell you your eyes are nice?"

"Shut up, I need to think." Kaz growls, drawing a hand down his face.

His eyes dart around, landing on a nearby door. Without a second thought, he shoves you in, closing the door behind you and locking it. It's a bathroom, and for that he's incredibly thankful.

"Splash yourself with water." Kaz orders, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms.

"Why?"

"To sober you up."

"Will it really?"

Kaz is starting to like you a lot more when she's sober.

-

You

An explosion rockets through the building, shaking the walls a little. "Woah." You laugh. It’s funny for some reason. "One of ours? Wylan's?"

"Yes." Kaz says, eyes flicking between you and the door. "Water, now."

"Why are we bombing the party?"

"Near the party." He corrects you impatiently.

There's a sudden pounding on the door, and Kaz swears under his breath violently.

"Anyone in there?! Open up!" 

You lift yourself onto the bathroom counter, sitting next to the sink. You watch Kaz, his scheming face on.

"What are you doing?" He asks, still glaring at you.

"Get over here."

"What are you doing?"

"Kaz." You raise your eyebrows. "Get caught or get over here."

Kaz clenches his jaw, striding up to you. "Now what? You're drunk, we're in a bathroom."

You run your hands through your hair, messing it up. You move back further to lean against the mirror, spreading your legs.

"Hands on either side of my head."

Immediately, Kaz stiffens. "Pardon?"

"We either make it look like you're about to fuck me or we get caught." 

His eyes go cold, but he leans in, placing a hand to right of your head. His left hand, though, goes to your waist.

"Three layers." He murmurs, almost to himself. "You're drunk, which means I'm yelling at you later for this."

"Please don't-" You cut yourself off with a gasp when the door slams open. You’re close. Not enough to touch Kaz, your mind isn't that foggy, but enough to certainly imply some things.

"Oh." A strange voice says. "Oh. My- my apologies, I didn't-"

"Get out." Kaz growls, turning his head away from you to glare at whoever is at the door.

The door shuts quickly with a loud "thud" noise. Both Kaz and you stay there for a moment, waiting to see if the intruder was actually gone.

"Wasn't that fun?" You say weakly.

"No." Kaz snaps, turning his head back to glare at you.

"Don't be pissed at me. I just saved our asses." You complain, meeting his eyes.

"Who said I'm pissed at you? Frustrated, certainly. I can't fault you too much for being drunk when I asked you to get a drink." 

"You have a nice voice." You say honestly.

"Close your mouth before you say something you'll regret."

you stare at him for a moment, mind swirling with thoughts you can't truly sort out.

You’re suspended for another second, neither of you having moved from the quite intimate position. You wasn't a short person, but you were smaller than Kaz, meaning he's practically covering your body with his right now.

"Could you get off me?" You say quietly.

"You're the one who put us in this position." He responds, raising his eyebrows. "If you were uncomfortable with it, you shouldn't have done it."

Either way, he removes his hands, but doesn't step back. Your head swims, having entirely forgotten his hand was on your waist in the first place.

"No, it's because I liked it too much." 

Kaz closes his eyes, rubbing his temples with gloved hands. "This is why I don't deal with drunk people."

"What, drunk people are too honest or something?"

"No. Secrets get spilled that nobody wants to hear."

"You don't want to hear my secrets?" You pout, a little upset. You must truly be nothing to him if he didn't even want your secrets to use against you.

"Why are you sad at that?" Kaz asks, and if you didn't know better you’d think he sounds incredulous.

"Because that means I mean nothing to you, which is depressing."

"Where did you get that idea?" His eyebrows furrow.

"You want everyone's secrets." You point out, still leaning against the mirror while sat on the counter. "Why not mine?"

"Trust me, I want them. I just want them out of your own free will."

Hell if you know what that means, but... "Nobody is holding a gun to my head."

"You're drunk. You have no filter."

"Correct. And? When did you care about morals?"

"I don't." He levels his cool gaze at you. "But when it comes to you... I know I wouldn't want my secrets getting out because I'm drunk." 

"When it comes to me?" You echo, jumping on the lose thread in his words.

"Get off the counter."

"Explain."

An unstoppable force meets an unmovable object, what happens? A collision so grand, so huge, that everything else pales in comparison.

But they aren't unstoppable or unmovable. You are drunk, Kaz has his own problems.

So he steps back, and you slide off the counter, fixing your clothes.

"Let's go." Kaz says gruffly.

But even now, even in the dim lighting of a bathroom, even with a foggy mind that is slowly clearing, you know. Hell, you both know.

Something has changed.

[fizzigigsimmer]

This is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race

There's no following @bigdumbbambieyes but take this humble offering.

The Best You (Never) Had

written for @harringrove-relay-race

Rating: M

Pairing: Steve x Billy with a heavy dose of angst.

I was charmed and instantly driven insane by the absolutely bomb Harringrove playboy bunnies drawn by @adelacreations, and it inspired me to wonder about a trans femme Billy, running into her past at a strip club.

Enjoy the adventures of Bunny Hargrove.

And stay on the look out for what @robthegoodfellow has coming up!

When Billie left Hawkins she hadn’t looked to her future and seen herself working at a strip club. She certainly hadn’t foreseen the possibility of having to serve her high-school bully cheap food and lousy drinks in one once she’d made it back to Cali. But that’s exactly what seems to be in store for her – fuck her life.  

Five men occupy the half moon booth and table reserved mostly for bachelor parties and the occasional VIP. Billie’s coworker Amanda has been serving them food and drinks while they enjoy the sets of dancers on stage, but her wait shift is ending and Billie’s prepping to take over – tuning out the other woman as she complains about one of the men grabbing at her ass and being a poor tipper. 

It seems impossible, but somehow it’s happening. Steve Harrington is sitting right there, watching Lacey wiggle her ass in red spandex to a Katy Perry song.   

It’s been going on fifteen years, but Billie would recognize him anywhere. Same slouch to the shoulders and dreamy eyed stare – neither Lacey’s wild gyrations nor the conversation of the group he’s with enough to hold his full attention. Same stupid hair, although he’s changed the shape since high school. Now it’s held securely to one side by too much gel, and she just wants to break it up with her fingers. His laugh still doesn’t reach his eyes, and it probably says a lot about Billie, that some part of her is relieved to see that.  

Her rent might be too high, her boss might be a creep, and her ex is still full of shit, but Steve Harrington is still hanging around with guys like Tommy and faking a smile, so it balances the scales. 

He’s still gorgeous too, fuck him. Billie swallows and forces herself to look away, and not run away like the frantic beating of her heart suggests that she should. She’s got nothing to hide, and she’s not ashamed.  

There’s no reason at all she shouldn’t saunter right over to the table with the bachelor party Amanda was gracious enough to split with her (knowing all about her rent worries) and flirt her way to another month of financial security; except for the fact that even in this day and age, certain people still get funny about people like her and Billie knows these guys. 

Or rather, they knew her before – before she got out of Neil’s house, before freedom, before Billie. 

There’s no reason at all she shouldn’t go over there and take that table full of drunk losers, eager to blow their cash on the club's cheap booze and dancing girls, for all that they’re worth. Nothing besides fear. 

Fuck that. 

The group is laughing loudly about something as Billie saunters up, one last swarm of butterflies taking flight in her belly as Hagen turns his neck to squint blearily at her.  

God, that stupid smirk hasn’t changed a bit – wide and dopey like the dog he is, and mean in the eyes.  Those beetle browns look her over just like they did on her first day in Hawkins, assessing for strengths and weaknesses to exploit; and for a moment she remembers the terror of being under that gaze and all the others like it. The fear of being caught out consuming her, choking her, day after day. 

Sorry kid. Billie thinks to herself with a sway of her hips, right before parking herself up against the arm of the leather couch, warm skin brushing the sleeve on Tommy’s shoulder. The way that his lips part unconsciously as he gawks at her doesn’t make up for the past, but it still feels damn good. She’s a bad bitch and she knows it. Knew it back then but now she can show it and will kick ass if Tommy or any of his buddies decide they have a problem with it. 

But it’s not recognition of any kind on any of their faces, it’s lust. They leer at the shiny shorts that hug her thighs and the plunging neckline of her tiny top – her employer's idea of a uniform. Whatever vindication she feels on behalf of her pitiful high school self, she doesn’t actually care anymore what Tommy and the clones think. 

Billie finds her eyes going to Steve like they’re magnetized.  

She shouldn’t care what Harrington thinks either, and yet, there’s a stupid flutter in her chest (damn it) when Steve looks her over, eyes lingering just a hair too long on her chest to be anything other than interested, before he meets her eye. 

“Hey beautiful.” He leans forward a little, totally present now like he wasn’t before dripping charm he obviously learned in some board room working for daddy. And yet, there’s still some part of Billie that expects to wake up in bed back in the house on Cherry Street.  

“What’s your name?” Steve Harrington is definitely asking, her, like it’s just a pre-courser to getting her naked, and Billie shivers. Fuck is she doing this? 

“Hi Bambi, I’m Bunny.” She teases. Sees the line in the sand and walks right over it. Tommy howls like some chick likening his buddy to a baby deer is the most hilarious shit, and it sets the others off, oohing and ahhing and generally acting like fools as they rib Harrington. 

But Steve ignores them, and the way he jolts a little when he hears that name, eyes narrowing on her in wary confusion, goes straight to her clit. Shit. One of these days her hard on for danger is gonna get her killed. But today it’s got her heart thumping and her pussy dripping as she clenches around nothing, like he’s already sliding inside where she obviously still wants him. She needs better taste in men. She’s sure her mama would have said she gets her poor taste from her if she’d stuck around long enough while Billie was growing up. 

“I’m a sucker for big pretty brown eyes.” She winks at him, sugar sweet and he seems to settle a little. “Can I get you another round of drinks, or are you in the mood for something better?” 

“Bunny.” He ignores the question to turn her show name over on his tongue, slow and curious like he’s tasting it. “Are you on tonight?” He asks, gaze twitching toward the stage and back. 

“You calling me a stripper Bambi?” 

“It is a strip club, and with a name like Bunny.” 

Billie laughs and Steve’s mouth slides into a satisfied smirk, like that was always the end goal. Tommy rolls his eyes and pouts like an overgrown toddler, “Didn’t you date a chick named Trixie?” 

“Yeah. So?” Steve drawls in reply, his focus momentarily shifting from Billie and back to Tommy, which if Billie’s memory serves, is exactly how Tommy likes it. 

This is a bad idea. Such a bad idea. God, Hagen really hasn’t changed, but neither has Steve. Those dry little dig and the arch of his eyebrows are so familiar she feels a strange sort of relief. Like there was something inside her that had been counting down since the last time she saw him, afraid that he’d change and become lost to memory. 

Fuck. That sounds – it’s not, what it sounds. 

“So, you can’t tell a stripper by their name is all I’m saying.” 

“Dude, are you serious? I met Trixie because you paid for her to show up at my apartment dressed like a police officer and give me a lap dance on my birthday.” 

Now there’s an idea, Billie thinks as Tommy, remembering the incident, smiles sheepishly.  

“I’m not dancing tonight, no.” Billie finally answers his question, pulling Steve’s attention back and a shiver goes down her spine when his eyes snap to her. “But I wouldn’t say no to tying you up and having my way with you, Pretty Boy.” 

She doesn’t have to wonder if Steve remembers her the way she remembers him. If the words Billie had said and the insults, she’d flung had burrowed under his skin to live with him the same way Billie lives with his.  

Steve flinches, his eyes narrowing sharply on her, and it’s barely perceptible but she catches it before he’s being nudged at and jostled from both sides by his buddies as they hoot and holler about how he’s been chosen.  

He never stops looking at her. 

The only one who doesn’t seem absolutely thrilled for him to get picked up by some babe in a seedy strip club in Santa Monica is Tommy, who grumbles something about the attention being wasted on Steve. 

For the first time Billie wonders if he might be the bachelor about to get hitched – and she’s the one to flinch this time, as her eyes dart down to his hand. The ring finger is empty, which doesn’t really prove anything, but the pale strip of skin she finds there tells its own story.  

Divorced? Long engagement? Married already perhaps and out to prove the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree? Fuck she hopes it’s not the last one. Not because it would change anything for her. Maybe it would, if she were a nicer person, but she’s not the married one, and if she started splitting hairs about fooling around with married men her tip jar would be a whole lot emptier each month. 

No. She just plain doesn’t want him to be attached. The thought makes her chest twist up inside and the bottom of her stomach feel like it’s going to fall right out her ass – the same fucked up emotional constipation she’d felt watching him run through the female population of Hawkins High like he was trying to make them all forget they’d watched Nancy Wheeler take his balls and then make an absolute fool of him.  

“Thanks for the offer, Bunny -” Steve starts, and she can hear the butt coming as clear as the others can if the sudden swell of groans is anything to go by. 

“Harrington! Come on man.” 

“Boo!” 

“See what I mean? That’s a fucking ten right there, and you’re going to blow it over some bitch who doesn’t even want you?!” Screeches Tommy. 

Bingo. Thank you, Tommy, with the big mouth. So, it’s divorced. Separated but still holding on to the past – just like old times. 

It makes her smile a little mean as she leans toward him, holding his gaze, purrs - “You scared, Bambi? Worried I might break you?” 

Steve clamps his mouth shut. His eyes blaze at her and her throat goes dry. 

“Oh ho! Careful now darlin, our Stevie boys got a pretty big ego. You might not want to poke that bull if you’re not ready for the ride.” One of the bros says with the kind of glint in his eye that says he lives for ‘big egos’ putting little women like her into place. Fucking prick. 

Steve seems to think so too because he mutters, “Shuttup Andy” as he reaches in his pocket for his wallet. 

“How much?” he asks her, sounding bored. It’s bullshit. Billie licks her lip in triumph. 

“Fifty for a lap dance here at the table, fifty more if you want to see some tit.”  

“How much for a private show?” 

Her breath hitches, her stomach tightening in her eagerness, but somehow, she keeps the breath out of her tone as she replies. 

“Depends on what you want to see.” She answers, and without so much as a pause Harrington smiles – challenges. 

“Everything.” 

Fuck. She’s doing this. 

She’s not delusional enough to think that fucking him is going to heal her inner child or whatever, and while she firmly believes she doesn’t owe every one night stand a complete rundown of her medical history, she’s fully aware of how this is different – of what the upstanding thing to do would be. 

But then Billie remembers the way Steve had started pushing back after their fight that strange night at the Byers house; the way he’d swooped in and pulled the rug out from under her – reclaiming his spot as top dog, just by existing. No begging. No apologies. He just opened the doors to that mansion he lived in and rang the bell, and Tommy and the rest had come looking for supper.  

She remembers the cruel things he said to her as he flaunted his big house and fancy car, rubbing in how quickly it was over once he made it a real contest; because however shiny and new Billie had been to those kids, she was still just trash under it all. Angry white trash going nowhere fast, while Steve was Mr. Somebody. Once he’d pulled his head out of Wheeler’s ass and remembered it, he’d made turning the school against Billie his new focus.  

Pushed further and further to the fringes, Billie’s only choice to keep the jackals at bay had been to fight them off until people got the message and started avoiding her altogether.  

She’s not claiming victim. She knows damn well who started the fight – that it was her own demons that drove her to lash out and try and prove her dominance over him – and that after that night at the Byers, Steve had especially no reason to take mercy on her. 

But just because she’d asked for the fight doesn’t mean taking a beating hadn’t nearly pushed her to the edge. 

Billie swallows back the taste of bitterness in her mouth, from the memory of being alone, broken and desperate, aching to be near someone who loathed her and yearning for the looks he gave so easily to other girls. 

Except now he is – King Steve – looking at Billie Hargrove like he wants her. Like he’d empty out his wallet and spend all of that nepo baby salary just for the chance to get at her; and like hell is she going to turn it away. Revenge couldn’t get sweeter than this. The only thing that could make it better is if he knew. It’s me on your mind. Me you can’t ignore. Me you can’t walk away from. 

But it’s just a fantasy. The reality him recognizing her now or later has her swinging from vicious jubilation toward mind numbing panic on a dime. 

Regardless - Steve Harrington stands up, ignoring the cheers of his drunk friends, eyes locked with hers – and Billie Hargrove makes her own choices. 

Billie is going to ride Steve until he sees God, hollowed be her name. Because she wants him (still) and he finally wants her. Just for once. That’s all she needs.  

She can worry about the aftermath after.