#how is that remotely romantic in any way ever

[curiousobsession101]

i grew up in a family where lgbtqia+ stuff wasn't usually brought up when i was a kid, not in a "don't ask don't tell" way but because it was just... normal. saying "this person is gay" would be like saying "this person likes green tea" like why would you mention that when it wasn't specifically relevant? so i never heard "your second cousin is gay" it was always "we're going to visit your second cousin and his husband and they made peanut butter cookies!"

so the first time i heard of being "gay" in anything other than the archaic sense where it meant "happy" was when i was in school - i think first grade? and my immediate response was utter absolute bafflement: "what do you mean gender is relevant to romantic relationships?? why would someone be interested in only girls or boys - how could that possibly matter? there's literally nothing that's only ever true for one of those but not the other so what's the difference?"

since then i've gotten to the point of academically understanding that this is a thing that matters to people and they can't help it and it's arbitrary. i've gotten involved with the queer community and for a while one of my hobbies was making little ms paint designs based on different pride flags for people. but on a gut level i still don't really get it.

needless to say, i'm aromantic and asexual

(also the fact that my mother is bi probably didn't help me understand people who aren't XD but for the record what i said here is true for my whole family - specific sexuality labels usually just come up when talking about politics so that's why i never heard about it when i was little. my great grandfather was a local politician so my mother once went to him for advice on a certain political issue and this was when prop 8 (an anti-gay bill) was being voted on and he made her promise to vote no on it before he would give her any advice - she told me she felt insulted he thought it was even remotely possible she'd vote yes)

so strange to me that some people aren't bisexual

[thepunkmuppet]

approaching The Confession Scene and what the fuck. this is genuinely tragic like I’ve always seen it as a meme, a joke, an iconic moment in fandom history, whatever, I’m a tumblr user, but now that I’m actually here it’s just fucking SAD

season 15 as a whole is NOT bad. it’s really not. but there’s zero destiel. they rarely speak at all unless it’s plot-related, one (1) episode pairs them together, frankly season seven was ten times more focused on their friendship and that’s INSANE because cas is only in like five fucking episodes of that one. they have a mini arc midway through the season which is very gorgeous and well-done, but it then goes absolutely nowhere and nothing at all is done to make it textually romantic.

by which I mean: no episodes have dean or cas reacting personally to sam and eileen’s relationship, or any other romantic relationship they come across. we’re never shown anything even remotely romantic even in an unrequited sense (no post-realisation awkwardness, no lingering shots of cas pining from afar, etc etc). it reads like a normal season of the show, which, yeah, I think those two are pretty fucking gay regardless, but they’re always textually written as a friendship, with no explicit cues to clue the audience in that there are canon romantic feelings. and that doesn’t change here, at all.

so I guess what I’m saying is the confession scene is purely just a moment of fan service. as stunning as the speech itself is, and as well as it fits cas’s character, the writers throughout the season didn’t actually give a fuck to make destiel ROMANTIC even in a one-sided way. film is a language and as much as misha does in his acting, even from castiel’s perspective they’re still framed as a friendship within the show itself RIGHT up until he says the words I love you. they weren’t interested in actually depicting a (even one-sided) queer love story, just wanted to give fans their “okay here it is we did it guys!” moment at the end, so that way they didn’t have to actually show an explicitly romantic gay love story, they could just say some words, kill cas off and boom it’s canon! here you go people we’ve been leading on, mocking and low-key gaslighting for eleven years!

idk man it’s just so disappointing. I knew it was and I know everyone has been talking about it for years now but my GOD it’s so bad 😭 I can’t even tell you how bizzare it is to have seen destiel confession meme on here and in various fandom video essays EVERY DAY FOR FOUR PLUS YEARS and now here I am, watching it go down in real time with full context, having watched over 300 episodes of this show, invested, obsessed, and REALLY FUCKING UPSET AAAAHHH

EDIT: forgot to mention this originally. the actual concept of cas’s moment of perfect happiness killing him, while kind of stolen from buffy, is AMAZING. and the literal perfect opportunity to have a building textual confirmation of his feelings throughout the season, where he realises what that moment will be, and it ends in the tragic confession of his love. like that’s insane that’s perfect. but no it just comes out of nowhere so oh fucking well whatever I guess! they’re canon so we should all be happy! I hate this stupid bumhole show AUGH no one talk to me ever :(

[yelenasdiary]

this might be weirdly specific but would you be able to write a fic where Kate Bishop is (fem)reader's best friend and she comforts reader after a breakup and it leads to romance? Could be fluff or smut, idrc

Take Your Time

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Fem! Reader (Platonic to Romance)

Summary: After dealing with a breakup, your best friend is here to help you get over you ex anyway she can.

Angst, Fluff, Comfort

Warnings: None, if there is any, please let me know | 1.4K

AC: I missed writing for Kate so much!! Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy x

It had been weeks since you and your ex-girlfriend broke up, but the heartache still lingered. You took some time for yourself trying to enjoy your hobbies once again, trying to not let the little things remind you of a love you once had. It wasn’t like you both ended on bad terms, but it still didn’t ease the feeling of your heart being broken into a million tiny pieces. 

The night was young, and the city of New York was loud and vibrant with its night life. Even with the light rain that trickled over the city, that didn’t stop the city from becoming a city of magic on a Friday night. While everybody was making it clear they were glad it was Friday, chit chatter from the street floated its way into your apartment by the open window of your bedroom, you were lying on the sofa with another case of red, puffy eyes. 

The throw pillow had a damp spot from your afternoon tears as trashy romantic movies played on the television, you knew it wasn’t going to help you heal but something drove you to just spend the afternoon binge watching the classics. Your phone would light up every now and then only to be ignored, your eyes not even moving from the television to see the who was trying to contact you. 

Your afternoon of self-torture was cut short when your best friend, Kate, let herself into your apartment. “Alright, let’s turn this crap off” she said, reaching for the television's remote and turning the screen black. 

“Kate! I was watching that” you groaned, slowly forcing yourself to sit up. 

“I know but” she paused, dropping her backpack to your feet and taking a seat next to you, making herself comfortable, “I think you forget that having friends around you in a time like this helps. So, here I am and in that bag is plenty of snacks, mostly your favourite ones” she continued with a soft smile. 

You sighed lightly, defeated by your friends kindness, “I guess you’re right” you said before reaching for her backpack. “Of course I am, you know who I am, right?” Kate joked, making you laugh for the first time in what felt like a very long time. “So, you’ve had a break from the world and now you’ve locked yourself away in this apartment. It’s time to have some fun!” She added. 

“Honestly, I’m not really up for… um, fun right now” you replied, your eyes stinging with every blink. 

“Fine,” she said dramatically, “then we’ll just sit here until you realize how amazing you are and how ridiculously terrible your ex was” Kate teasingly smiled.

A small laugh escaped your lips despite yourself, and Kate seized the opportunity as she nudged you with her elbow. “See? I knew I could get you to laugh more than once” she said proudly as you playfully rolled your eyes at your friend before opening up a bag of your favorite potato chips. “Okay, fine, you can stay but under one condition” you replied before munching on a few chips. 

“Go on?” Kate questioned. 

“We don’t talk about her, like ever” you muttered, your mouth still somewhat full. Kate let out a chuckle, “fine by me, I came over here to watch a bulk load of action and comedy movies, eat some pizza and tell you about this thing Clint did on a mission last week!” Your friend smirked as she reached for the television remote again. 

----

As the night went into the early hours of the morning, losing complete track of time as you watched movie after movie with your best friend. Your coffee table littered with rubbish of pizza boxes, empty soda cans and juice boxes, empty bowls of melted leftover sundaes, chop sticks along with the small take-out boxes from the Thai restaurant a few blocks over, it was truly a mess. 

You couldn’t believe that you allowed yourself to even for a moment to forget just how much fun you always had with Kate. Each movie you guys watched; she’d have you laughing to the point of tears by her like banter with the different characters. With both your stomachs full, the night life of New York City slowly fades from the chit chatter of pedestrians on the street to loud truck horns and trains on the train line. 

Not only did the city start to calm down but so did your apartment. Tiredness would soon start to hit you, reminding you just how late in the night it was. Gently, you rested your head on Kate’s shoulder, “thank you for making my day” you said softly, your eyes focused on the movie playing on the television. Kate smiled softly to herself, ignoring the way her heart skipped a beat at your actions. 

“You’re welcome” she replied, “I know break ups suck but you can’t wallow in it forever” she added. 

“I know, I guess…I guess I just hated not knowing what to do. You always hear stories of people growing apart, but I never thought I would relate to that” you admitted, sighing heavily to yourself. 

“You deserve so much better” Kate spoke softly, “I mean, who breaks up with somebody over text? To me, that kinda says they didn’t care too much. You deserve somebody who loves you for you, who’s stomach gets all twisted and full of butterflies whenever you walk into the room, you deserve somebody who’s face feels warm when you la-“Kate stopped herself mid-sentence abruptly and quickly reached for her drink. Her sudden shift made you frown ever so slightly. 

“Kate?” You said calmly, “are you okay?” You asked. 

Kate turned to you and smiled softly, “I’m good, I guess I just missed hanging out with you” she replied, feeling her stomach turn on her. Her eyes quickly moved back to the television, leaving you to watch her become slightly nervous. 

Gently, you placed a hang on top of her knee, allowing yourself to sit up right again. “Kate, come on, what’s going on?” You asked her. She took a sip of her soda to give herself that short extra seconds to panic on the inside before she nervously swallowed the mouthful of soda and looking at you once again, this time struggling to keep eye contact. 

“Please don’t freak out, I know things at too soon and look at me go, good one Kate! About to mess things up!” She rolled her eyes at her own frustration, “I never really liked you being with her becau-“ she paused once again as she looked into your eyes and saw nothing but care and patience as you gave her the time she needed to gather her words. “because I think you’re incredible and they never deserved you in the first place….and I think if anybody is going to spoil you and love you for who you are….I want it to be me” she continued. Her eyes dropped once again; this time worried for any form of rejection. 

Carefully you cupped her face with one hand, wanting her to look at you. She looked at you like a lost puppy who’d thought they had done something wrong. Her eyes making you smile softly at her as you crushed a lock of her long dark hair behind her ear, “you didn’t mess anything up Katie” you started, “I’ve always been in awe of you but in all honesty, I didn’t think you would ever look at me more than just a friend” you added, making Kate smile softly at you.

“Would it be awful of me to say that I’m so glad a broken heart pushed a confession out of me?” The archer asked nervously. Her words made you chuckle, “I’m starting to think of it more a of a bless of some kind. Maybe it this was exactly how things were supposed to go” you replied, your eyes sparkled from the glow from the television giving Kate another reason to admire your beauty without the worry of being caught. 

Kate took a deep breath, “so, what now?” She asked.

“We take our time, enjoy this new chapter... and see where it leads us,” you replied, “if that is something you’d be interest in of course” you quickly added, your own fear of rejection suddenly creeping in. Kate gently took a hold of your hand, removing it from her cheek “I’d like that, one moment at a time” she spoke softly. “Maybe next week I could take you out on an actual date?” Kate asked, feeling the warmth of your comfort embracing her as you gave her a soft nod, “it’s a date, Katie” you said before placing a kiss on her warm cheek.

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[christiewryte]

oh god, where do i even begin

First of all, yes, yes, a million percent yes, Shadow is absolutely, hopelessly, and silently in love with both of these women. How could he not be, when they have been the two greatest positive influences on his entire life? Yes, Maria saved his life, but it was Amy who stopped him from throwing it away and inspired him to give the world another chance, and it was Rouge who gave him a new life and has been by his side every awkward, stumbling step of the way. So let's break this down by pairings.

Shadow x Amy Good lord, our poor boy never stood a chance. By the time Shadow gets his past and identity sorted out and is able to even think about building something resembling a life, he has learned three ways from Sunday that everyone involved in his creation intended him to be either a tool or a weapon for their own purposes. His life was never meant to be his own, and the only one before his timeskip who ever saw him as a person in his own right was gunned down for it in the crossfire between the various factions of his parentage warring over who was going to ultimately control him. GUN wanted him as a weapon, Black Doom as a sleeper agent, and Gerald Robotnik meant him to be everything from a panacea for his granddaughter, to a shield against the Black Arms, to a nuclear time bomb of revenge against humanity. Still so early in his existence, so jumbled around by trauma, brainwashing, and amnesia, he could only act as a leaf in the wind, believing himself nothing more than whatever weapon the latest one calling the shots told him he was. And in each of his most compromised moments, when he was closest to fulfilling whatever self-obliterating purpose would seal his future as exactly the living weapon he was told he was… there was Amy, believing with all her heart that he was a real person worthy of life and love and happiness of his own. That he could make his own decisions, and that in his own heart, he wanted to make the right ones. Amy had already endeared herself to him on Prison Island, amusing him as much as she confused him when she hugged him out of the blue. But that moment they shared on the ARK planted a seed that would just keep growing, and growing, and growing because Amy would. Not. STOP. Watering it every chance she got. Amy wouldn't be the only one from Sonic's crew to reach out to Shadow or try to involve him in things, but she would be the only one to do so on his terms. While Sonic would just expect Shadow to fall in and go with the flow like a good wingman, Amy would be the one to always try and find some way for Shadow to participate from his own comfort zone. In TMOSTH she assigns him one of the most subdued mystery characters, locates him to the remote, relaxing lounge car all by himself, and puts Rouge in the next car over in case he needs emotional support. Amy routinely shows Shadow consideration of his issues and acceptance of his quirks in both her words and actions as if it's the most natural thing in the world. That seed from the ARK is by now a thriving redwood with a drive-through tunnel in its base shaped like Amy's lingering crush on Sonic.

Shadow x Rouge No one with eyes or ears will ever pretend that Shadow and Rouge don't share one of the deepest, most profound connections between any members of the STH cast, they merely disagree on personal preference for platonic or romantic interpretation. Rouge was the first one to start getting close to Shadow again after he woke up from his stasis. She was the first one to inadvertently test his commitment to Gerald's genocide when she got herself trapped on Prison Island and had to be rescued. And ever since their reunion after his fall to Earth, she's been his anchor to the rest of the world. Always there to pull him back to the present whenever he gets lost in the past, to drag him out of his lair when he's isolating, to make him do things that are good for him against all his protests. She's the one with the encyclopedic knowledge of his likes, dislike, squicks, triggers, and signals. She understands him without him saying a word, and as much as she delights in poking and prodding him, she is always conscientious of his limits. She is his partner. She is his best friend. She is his home. In return, he's the one to reel her in when she loses sight of reality or conscience. To be her sounding board and shoulder to cry on. Together as partners, they have gone through everything from domestic trip-ups to world-ending threats to time travel-induced glimpses of their worst possible future, and stood by one another. They share a faith in one another that from the outside must be utterly baffling for two individuals who have had such a tumultuous rollercoaster of moral alignments, because it is built upon years and years of two morally complicated individuals choosing to be better and better for the other's sake until somewhere along the way they've both transformed into full-on heroes with a mere aesthetic of bad bitchery. If Shadow's feelings for Amy were gratitude that became fondness that grew into affection that sprouted into infatuation that blossomed into a crush that matured into love, then his relationship with Rouge was definitely waking up one day and suddenly realizing that not only had he fallen head over heels in love with his best friend at some point, but that they were basically already married in every way but sleeping arrangements, and the only question was whether she recognized the same.

And beyond their individual traits, Amy and Rouge share a lot in common that make them ideal matches for Shadow. They're both powerhouses that can keep up with him and have his back in the more dire of situations. They're both possessed of outrageous willpowers and stubbon streaks to rival his own. They both care immensely about him, his health, his happiness, and getting him out into the world that he could all too easily shut himself off from if left to his own devices, with the only difference being how gentle they're going to be about it. They're both as ready to ride or die as he is, and as the cherry on top, they're both a couple of certified hotties who have their own fantastic aesthetic matches and contrasts with him. So how is Shadow supposed to ever choose between them? That's the best part. He doesn't.

Amy x Rouge THAT'S RIGHT BAYBEEEEEEEEY, IT'S OT3 TIMEEEEEEEEEEEEE. We just went over the numerous traits Amy and Rouge both share that oh so perfectly compliment their relationships with Shadow, but that's not all -- both girls ALSO share a lot of qualities with Shadow himself which are exactly what make HIM ideal lover material for each of THEM. Amy ultimately wants to settle down to everyday domesticity? A partner who remembers little nothings and big somethings about her? Who will go the extra mile to make her feel special and valued and wanted every day? Who will happily play, and banter, and carve out time for her? Rouge has demonstrated she will do all of that to the twelves for someone important to her. Rouge wants someone she can tease and fluster and relish their reaction. Someone who will take her bitchy side in stride and rein in her worser impulses without holding them against her. Who appreciates the work she puts into her looks, but values her beyond them. She wants a best friend along with a lover.

And ultimately, what all three of these characters want from a relationship more than anything else, the same thing each of them offers above all else to a prospective partner, the thing that defines each of them… is loyalty. Shadow entered the present speedrunning a gauntlet of backstabbings and betrayals, and weathered them all in the name of a promise he made to the most precious person in the world to him. Amy has spent her life chasing after one love through disappointment after disappointment after disappointment. Rouge's entire resume is made up of careers where you have to expect everyone you meet to be holding a knife behind their back, including your own colleagues. What all of these characters want more than anything is someone they can give their loyalty to, and have it honored in return. These three bitches ride or die for each other.

Anyway, this took way too long to write, but if you liked the sound of any of this, please consider reading my… Shadoumy? Amougedow? Roushamy? My, my Amy/Rouge/Shadow fic. That one. I think it's pretty good, I promise.

hello, shadamy and shadouge nations let’s talk about how romantically in love shadow is with either or both of these women!!

[miupow]

ℌOℓเ𝔇AY 𝔇ECOɌATเNɠ ⸝⸝ 휴닝카이

asking your favorite i.t guy for help decorating goes horribly (or perfectly) wrong. 一 𝒾n 𝓌hich you and your coworker huening kai get stuck in a closet together during a snowstorm。

⧼ 🎄 ⧽ 一 𝓅airing・hueningkai x fem!reader 𝓰enre/𝓌arnings・smut, fluff, pwp, nsfw, minors do not interact! trapped in a closet trope, power outages, sex with the lights off, groping, breast worship, nipple sucking, dry humping, handjobs, clitoral stimulation, unprotected sex, pullout method, vaginal sex, cumshot, cum marking, begging, slight sub!kai but not really, praise kink, size kink, resolved romantic and sexual tension 𝓌c ・5. 9 k | 𝓉o 𝓁ibrary.

[𝓃otes。] holy shit this is so much longer than i meant for it to be. i was just possessed by some sort of demon and wrote this thing in two days, which is the fastest i've ever written anything ever... thank you @jellymochii for betareading! hope you all enjoy this cute little fic while on your holiday breaks ^_^

no one had ever bothered to warn you about how difficult it was to plan a party. maybe if someone had, you wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity when it had been presented to you— though it was awfully in your nature as a corporate kiss-ass to accept any work-related project that was offered to you in blind hope that you’ll manage to impress some higher-up somewhere along the line. you had only been hired at txt bank a few months ago, anyway, and the lady you replaced was the one who oversaw all the holiday decorating. didn’t that mean, technically speaking, that by association it was now your job too? either way, you figured that it would do you some good to prove yourself dependable.

“i’m sure you’ll do great,” your boss, yeonjun had reassured you with a not-so-comforting pat on the back. “don’t be afraid to ask for help!”

you were terrified to ask for help. you didn’t even know most of your coworkers’ names yet, let alone feel comfortable enough with them to ask for help with a benefit-less side quest. it might just be paranoia, but you were sure they wouldn’t want to help you even if you did ask. the old financial analysist seems to have been a popular staple in the office, and you were a far cry away from the life of the party. young, inexperienced, and far too shy for your own good— you’ve never had any of your peers reach out to you for more than letting you know what you were doing wrong. yeonjun’s assistant, beomgyu, was the only person in the bank you felt even remotely comfortable with, having known him since you were a freshman in college, and without his mentoring and his happy-go-lucky attitude, you were sure that you would have buckled under the pressure long before you made it to the new year.

naturally, you run to him first.

“you don’t want my help, believe me,” he laughs, swiveling around in his desk chair to face you. “why don’t you ask kai? you know he’ll say yes— hell, you could probably ask him to jump from the tenth floor and he’d do it. he’s obsessed with you.”

“he’s not obsessed.” you retort weakly, rolling your eyes. “he’s just being nice.”

“sure, buying you coffee and lunch, following you around like a lost puppy, and offering to walk you to your car every night is just being nice.”

“i asked him to that first time!” you pout. “the parking garage is scary when it’s dark out…”

huening kai worked in the bank’s i.t. department, down in the basement. even then, you still saw him often, the poor boy constantly running up and down those stairs whenever he was called. he was the only stranger to welcome you warmly when you first began at the company, offering his assistance with anything you needed— it was an honest godsend, because the computer software went so far over your head it made you dizzy. you still haven’t gotten quite the hang of it, but that was mostly because it was difficult to focus on what kai was saying when he was bent over you so closely and intimately, explaining equations and spreadsheets with that soft, gentle voice of his. you only felt dizzier in his presence, so nothing he told you ever stuck… but that worked just fine for you, because that meant you could keep asking for his help.

beomgyu says that kai has a crush on you. you’re certain he’s just that sweet and friendly with everyone. 

as much as you hate it, beomgyu’s right that kai would help you out if you asked him to. you feel bad for hogging up all of his time, as busy as he is even when he isn’t assisting people, but if beomgyu won’t help you he’s the only other person you’re willing to ask. when you see him again later that evening, smiling that pretty lopsided smile that gives your tummy butterflies, offering to walk you through the parking garage again, you ask him meekly if he’d help you decorate for the office christmas party.

he accepts a little more enthusiastically than you had anticipated he would. “there’s a storage closet down in the basement that has some old decorations from last year’s party.” he tells you as you dig around in your purse for your car keys, “i can show it to you sometime if you’d like! it’ll have to be after everyone goes home, though. i’m technically not allowed to go rooting through storage.”

“isn’t there supposed to be a snowstorm tomorrow?” you ask. “yeonjun told me he’ll let everyone go home early if it starts getting really bad. maybe we can stay behind then?”

“ooh, sneaky.” kai giggles. “sounds like a plan!”

your heart raced the entire drive home. it was just going through some old dusty decorations, it wasn’t a date or anything even close to it, but why did your heartbeat flutter like it was one? that night you tossed and turned, unable to sleep— no matter how hard you tried to clear your head you couldn’t stop thinking about your plans with kai. part of you was nervous you would land in trouble with yeonjun if you were caught snuck around the office after hours, but all of that anxiety was drowned out effortlessly by your excitement and anticipation. alone? with kai? it might not be a date to him, but it sure was one to you.

by the time exhaustion finally overtook you, rays of light from the rising sun were already beginning to stream through the gap in your curtains. you get only a few hours of sleep before your morning alarm forces you awake. you’re tired and groggy, and can barely stay awake to get dressed and ready for work, but the sight of fresh falling snow out your window revitalizes you better than any cup of coffee. frigid, bitter wind slaps you in the face as you leave your house, your flimsy scarf and coat doing little to shield you from the brewing blizzard, but you can’t find it in you to be unhappy even as you nearly slip and break your neck getting to your car. this is exactly what you were hoping for, and a quick glance at your phone confirms that the snowfall is only going to get worse.

you find it difficult to focus all day, partly because of your nerves and partly because you kept looking out the office windows to admire the snow. seoul turns nearly invisible below you, all the streets and buildings covered in a sparkling, dazzling blanket of pure white that blinds you. it was oddly peaceful, the swirling snowfall silencing the usually loud and bustling city.

by lunchtime, you couldn’t see anything outside at all. the snowflakes turn rapidly to sleet and ice, and the wind picks up to the point it’s howling and shaking the windows. yeonjun began sending people home at two, and by four the office was silent for an entirely different reason.

you tell yeonjun that you have some extra statements to go through, but that you’ll be leaving shortly— you even make a show out of packing up your purse, going extra slow just in case he wants to stay and chat. thankfully, he exits the office without much fuss, reminding you to drive carefully, and to tell security when you’re leaving so they could lock up behind you.

“of course, sir, thank you. have a good night.” you reply with a tight smile, praying that you don’t look as guilty as you feel.

once you hear the exit doors close behind him, you shoot up out of your desk and hightail it to the basement. kai meets you at the stairs, grinning and waving excitedly with his bag slung over his shoulder. “it shouldn’t take very long, the closet’s pretty small,” he says, ushering you to follow him. “i want us both to get out of here before the storm gets any worse.”

while you certainly wouldn’t mind spending extra time alone with kai, the last thing you want is to get snowed in at the office. he leads you down a dimly lit hallway, flanked on each side by identical personal offices. the rooms were empty and dark, devoid of any signs of life or activity— it shouldn’t surprise you, seeing how everyone had left for the day, but something about the uncanny, isolated atmosphere gave you the creeps. kai continues to lead you to the very end of the hall, stopping at a scuffed, unmarked wooden door. a keypad fixed to the adjacent wall blinks brightly in the dark.

“this is the closet you were talking about?” you question, eyeing the door oddly. “it doesn’t look like a storage closet at all. why’s it got a keypad?”

“it used to be a server room, i think. there’s still some equipment in the back.” kai responds lightly, bending over slightly to plug in the code for the keypad. “now it’s just used to store stuff we don’t need, though only my department can use it. expensive computers and whatnot. after last year’s christmas party i helped put away everything, and i stored it all in here ‘cos i was too lazy to take it all the way to the top floor.”

the keypad beeps and the little blinking light turns green. kai pulls the door open and gestures you inside.

the air in the storage closet is stale and dusty. you search in the dark for the light switch, but kai locates it with ease, and you find yourself having to blink hard a couple of times to adjust to the near-blinding fluorescent light. against each wall countless labeled boxes and tubs are stacked up nearly to the ceiling, each one filled to the brim. a line of folding chairs leaned up against a broken desk, a ladder and some cleaning supplies occupied a far corner. as kai had said, abandoned old server racks had been pushed to the very back of the room, collecting dust, far too outdated to be of any use anymore. the room was small and narrow with no windows, barely enough room to move around besides the carefully constructed walkway that wove between all the junk. you feel awfully claustrophobic, especially with kai’s tall, broad frame stepping in behind you. you both toss your bags to an empty spot on the floor, and the door swings shut with a dull click.

you can still hear the storm outside, even down here. the wind howls and whips around viciously, and the sleet pummels the walls like thousands of tiny bullets.

“there should be a fake tree in here somewhere,” huening murmurs, squeezing past you to make his way towards the back of the closet. his chest brushes against your back as he moves past, and you can feel the firm planes of his broad pecs through the thin material of his button down shirt. “and some wreaths and ribbons and things. i think i hid them all back here so i wouldn’t get in trouble.”

you laugh airily, a little too distracted to fully pay attention to what he was saying. “you? in trouble? i don’t think yeonjun has the heart.”

kai shrugs, opening a random cardboard box and peering inside. “you’d be surprised. you haven’t been here long enough to see what he’s capable of— oh, by the way, how are you liking it here so far? getting the hang of everything?”

you should probably be helping him, but you can’t tear your eyes away from the way the muscles in his back ripple through his shirt. “i, um. i’m still figuring it out. i really appreciate your help.”

the blizzard grows even louder outside, to the point it’s beginning to frighten you. you don’t think you’ve ever heard of a snowstorm causing a building’s walls to cave in, but there’s always a first for everything.

if kai notices that you haven’t moved from where you stood by the door, he doesn’t mention it. “no need to thank me! i’m happy to, really. i’ll help you out with whatever you need anytime, y/n, you just have to ask. you know you can count on me.” he moves on to another box, seemingly still searching in vain for those decorations. ”who’s your favorite coworker? if you have one, i mean—ah, that’s a stupid question. it’s probably beomgyu.”

kai’s tone changed suddenly, from happy and bright to something you couldn’t quite place. you’ve never heard kai sound like that before. “what do you mean?” you prod, cocking your head to the side.

he looks as if he’s weighing the question, biting the inside of his round cheek as his eyes look everywhere except at your face. “well, i mean, like… he’s your friend, right? and you and him have known each other for years now. you hang out with him every day, outside of work too, going to the bar and whatever. and you’re always talking about him, and laughing at his jokes, and looking his stupid face and his stupid hair—”

you’re not sure how to quite process that. “actually, kai… my favorite coworker is you.”

kai’s head spins around so fast that you’re afraid it’s going to come off, his big brown eyes wide with shock. “wait, what? really?!”

“yes, really.” you giggle, “i thought you would have known that, silly. beomgyu’s my friend and all, but he gets on my nerves all the time. you’ve just been so sweet to me when nobody else has, and you’ve made me feel so welcome… it really means a lot.”

kai’s face turns an adorable shade of pink, all the way to the tips of his ears. “oh. well. um. th-thank you. i—” he averts his eyes back to all the boxes, shyly lowering his head. his long dark bangs fall into his eyes, shielding the unreadable emotions that swirled in their dark chocolate depths. “i’m glad you feel that way… i can’t seem to find any of these stupid decorations, i’m worried we’re not going to be able to make it out of here before the power goes—”

just then, the light flickers, pops, and plunges both of you back into complete and total darkness.

“—out.”

it’s so dark inside the storage closet that you can’t even see your hands in front of your face— if you screw your eyes shut and open them again, it makes no difference, completely blind to everything except the cacophonous howling of the wind. “shit!” kai curses, the first time you’ve ever heard him do so, some loud stumbling and crashing coming from your left. “hold on, i’ll get us out of here—”

more crashing and banging, now moving your way; you open your mouth to warn him far too late, and kai barrels into you, nearly knocking you over. “sorry!” he yelps, outstretching his arm to break your fall and instead grabbing a fat fistful of your breast. he doesn’t seem to even notice, his hands large and warm and squeezing a little too tightly, seeping through the thin material of your blouse and bra and making a very unwelcome heat bloom between your legs.

“um, kai,” you stutter, trying your hardest to keep your voice level, “that’s… my boob.”

kai tears his hand away as if it were touching hot coals, and much to your dismay you find yourself immediately missing his touch. “i’m so sorry!” he repeats in a rush, stumbling over his words, his usually deep voice a couple octaves higher. you’re sure his handsome face is glowing crimson red, and distantly you wish the lights were on so you could see it. “i— i, i  didn’t mean to, i swear!”

“i know you didn’t,” you reassure him quickly, reaching out your own arms to help him squeeze himself by. with your help, he manages to slip his way past you, towards the general vicinity of the doorway, his feet knocking over things all the way there. you can hear him pressing buttons rapidly on the keypad, the device making no noise or beeping any lights— kai curses again and slams his fist against the wall, the loud thud echoing throughout the dark room.

“we’re stuck in here.” kai mutters in dismay.

“what do you mean we’re stuck in here?!”

“the door automatically locks itself when it closes and the keypad is the only way to unlock it… and it turned off along with the power. it’s alright though, the backup generator should turn on any minute now…”

the two of you stand around in silence for a long pregnant pause. the power does not turn back on.

“or not.” he gripes. “okay, this is fine, we’ll get out of here somehow— here, let me turn on my phone flashlight…”

kai rummages around in his pockets before pulling out what you assume is his phone. you anticipate seeing the little flashlight to finally illuminate the all-encompassing dark, but it never comes. “…and my phone’s dead. great. just great.”

“you really need to get better about charging that thing.” you quip sarcastically. “how many times have you asked to borrow my charger? now i only bring it because i know you’ll need it.”

“i know, i didn’t— wait, really? just for me?”

you don’t respond to his question, your cheeks flaring up from the confession you didn’t mean to let slide. “my phone should still have a charge.” you say, attempting to change the subject, “but i left it in my purse. i’m gonna try and grab it.”

carefully, you begin to shuffle your way towards the corner of the room, where you were at least mostly certain that you and kai had placed down your bags. kai follows you closely, his large hands balanced on your shoulders to keep him steady… a fine ideas at first, when you were making good headway, but you didn’t get very far at all.

you manage to only make it a few short steps before your kitten heel catches on something rolling around on the ground— kai must have knocked the contents of a few boxes over on his way over to you, little plastic bulbs that feel an awful lot like christmas ornaments, as ironic as it is. you trip and stumble, and you probably could have caught yourself easily if it wasn’t for kai’s large body falling with you. you both come crashing to the floor, your sharp gasp drowned out by kai’s loud shriek right in your ear; he squishes you against the cold linoleum floor, his chest pressed against your back, his hips flush against your ass. you try to wriggle free, but kai is just too heavy on top of you, motionless and oddly silent as he breathes hard against the back of your neck.

 “oh my god, kai, you big oaf, get off of me!” you whine, attempting in vain to push yourself up onto your hands and knees— your wiggle your hips against kai’s own, akin to a bucking hose trying to unseat it’s rider, and that’s when you feel it.

your pencil skirt has ridden up so that only your pantyhose and underwear were covering your ass, and you can feel every inch of kai’s hardening dick pressed up against you as if there were no clothes between you at all. the weight and curve of it, slotted perfectly between your asscheeks like it belonged there, the way it twitches violently in his slacks when you gasp.

“i’m sorry,” he whimpers, his head buried in your shoulder, his voice wobbly like he was about to cry, “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry—”

just then do you register his hands on your hips, touching you so intimately, steadfast in their movements down your ass and thighs despite shaking like a leaf. he’s never been this close to you before, his body so sculpted and masculine against you, his soft plump lips ghosting over the exposed skin of your neck, wafts of his musky cologne clouding your senses. you shouldn’t do this, you should remain professional… but you’ve wanted huening kai for months, since you first met him, and having him pressed against you so helpless and vulnerable has destroyed all your control and reason. all you could think about was that kai wanted you too, and you had the proof straining against you and begging to be freed.

you roll your hips back against him slowly, as if not to startle him— the broken moan that falls from those kissable lips is downright obscene, whiny and desperate, shooting hot sparks of pleasure down your body to your core.

“a-ah, d-did you, um. did you mean to d-do that?” he asks in a small voice, his cock growing even harder against you.

you can’t take it anymore— in kai’s dazed state you manage to pull yourself up from underneath him, spinning around on your knees to grab wildly in his direction. you manage to get your fist wrapped around his tie, and with a sharp tug kai’s lips come crashing down onto yours. his lips are soft and pillowy against your own, tasting a little sweet, like the tea with milk and honey he enjoys drinking while he works. his panting breath tickles your skin, his fingers coming up to card through your hair as you open your mouths and breathe each other in. your bodies press together heatedly, hands roaming everywhere you could reach, groping and pulling each other impossibly closer together. kai’s other hand slides down your back to cup your ass, squeezing the plush lightly between his fingers. swathed in all this darkness, it was easy to forget that you weren’t dreaming.

you’ve never kissed or been kissed like this before.

“does that answer your question?” you giggle when you part for air, panting hotly into each others mouths before kai descends upon you to recapture your lips himself.

this kiss is even more heated than the last, kai prying your lips apart to deepen the passion with teeth and tongue. you wish you could see, could admire the sharp tic of kai’s jaw as he kissed you, lose yourself in those beautiful brown eyes. bear some witness to something you were sure would never happen. you could feel the thud of your combined heartbeats, blood rushing in your ears to drown out the storm as you both fumble with each other’s clothes. kai’s hands move to cup your tits, squeezing harshly when you run your hand down his chest and belly to his belt buckle. it’s a struggle to unfasten in the dark, but you manage to roughly tear his fly open and fish his hot throbbing cock out of his boxers. you wrap your hand around it, so fat your fingers barely connect— kai lets out a strangled whine as you stroke up to thumb at the tip, thick globs of precum slicking up your hand.

“t-take it off,” kai grits out against your lips, his large hands fumbling with the buttons of your blouse, “please, wanna feel—”

an affirming hum is all he needs, impatiently pulling at the buttons— your blouse pops open with a loud ripping sound, and he pulls both your top and bra down just enough for your breasts to fall out. your nipples harden in the cold air, but they’re quickly warmed up by kai’s fingers. he pinches and tugs at the buds roughly, the sensation making you keen wantonly.

“kai! that shirt was expensive!” you whine, but the hand pumping his cock only strokes faster— you really couldn’t find it within yourself to care much about anything, and you wanted to make sure kai didn’t stop to apologize even more than he already has.

“couldn’t help it, i just love your tits,” kai groans, letting go of your nipples to grope and massage the fat mounds of your breasts. his grip gets tighter with every flick of your wrist, breath coming out in short airy pants. “fuck, you’re so sexy, it makes me g-go insane. running around in those tight tops and those short little skirts, i just want to— ah!— f-fuck you all the time—!”

“kai,” you whimper, rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to quell the searing heat growing between them.

“i wish i could see you right now,” he continues, and you jump at the sensation of a hot wet tongue against your nipple. “i could probably cum just from how hot you look— god, i’ve been wanting to do this for forever.”

his plump, spit-slick lips seal around your hard bud, his hands continuing to play with your chest as he sucks and nibbles. you cry out high in your throat, letting go of his twitching cock to crumple your fist in his shirt. your pussy aches to be touched, dripping so much slick you’re sure you’ve completely ruined your panties. kai’s fingers and mouth better than anything you’ve ever felt before, good enough to make you cum from just this alone, but you desperately, wildly, primally need more.

“touch me!” you beg him, pulling him impossibly closer, right where you need him most. “kai, please touch me!”

kai gives your nipple one last tug between his teeth before pulling off with a pop, leaving your breasts covered in his spit and erupting in goose flesh from the frigid air. slowly and carefully he crawls himself between your open legs, sliding his fingers underneath your bunched up skirt. he runs a fingertip down the gusset of your panties, just the ghost of a touch, but it’s enough to make you keen in delight. “you’re so wet,” kai laments, sounding utterly debauched, rubbing between your weeping pussy lips over the lace, circling your clit until you mewl, “made a mess in your panties… did i really make you this wet? that’s so fucking hot…”

he relinquishes his finger, and you’re not sure what you were expecting next, but it definitely wasn’t for him to grab ahold of your pantyhose and underwear and tear them from your body in one powerful yank. the nylon and lace rip like paper, the ghastly sound ringing in your ears, and kai tosses the shredded fabric to the side before positioning himself to kneel between your thighs.

“i’ll do more than touch you if you’ll let me,” he whispers in your ear, running his hand up your inner thigh leaving behind a burning trail in it’s wake, “i wanna fuck you so bad, baby, please, can i? i’ll buy you new clothes, i’ll buy you whatever you want, just let me ruin you…”

“we don’t have a condom…” you breathe, but you widen your legs to give him more room anyway. usually that would be a deal-breaker for you, but you’ve already done more in this closet than you would have ever even dreamed of doing.

“i’ll pull out, i promise.” kai’s voice is far too soothing for your own good, those terrible, god-sent big hands grabbing ahold of the back of your knees to expose you even further. you can hardly think at all anymore, too focused on the throbbing need swirling deep in your pussy, and how good it would feel if you would take the risk and just let go.

“please…” is all you can manage to say, and with a delighted groan huening folds your legs up to rest on his shoulders and positions his weeping cock at your entrance. it feels so filthy, with your torn-up pantyhose still clinging to your legs and your heels hanging from your toes, and once again you wished desperately that you could see just how lewd of a sight the two of you were.

kai slides his cock up and down between your folds, getting his shaft nice and wet with your juices. his bulbous cockhead bumps deliciously against your clit before gliding back down to your entrance, pressing against the rim of your hole just enough to tease before letting up and doing it again. as hot as it is and as good as it feels, you can’t handle any teasing anymore, not when you’ve been on the edge and in need of release for this long.

“put it in,” you beg, and you can hardly recognize your own voice. you sound so needy, so pornographic— it would be embarrassing if you weren’t this far gone. “please, please, need you s’ bad, kai, need your cock—”

kai shushes you with an unexpectedly chaste kiss, sweet and gentle and nothing at all like the way he was thrusting himself inside of your tight wet heat like an animal. the stretch burns so good you nearly scream, his cock longer and fatter than any you’ve ever taken before. for a delirious moment you worry that he’ll tear you in half, that he won’t fit, your walls clenching down on him like a vice as he forces his way deeper and deeper, until his tip kisses your cervix and his balls slap wetly against your ass.

“s-so big,” you slur, clawing weakly at his chest, your mouth slack and your mind completely blank except for how impossibly full you feel.

“is it too much?” kai asks you nervously, back to his sweet anxious self for a split second. “i’m so sorry, i couldn’t stop myself, pussy’s sucking me in—”

“feels so goo-o-od!” you mewl dumbly, finding it harder and harder to string a sentence together the longer kai is inside of you. “need more, hyuka, give it to me!”

the innocent nickname makes him moan, and just like you wanted and pleaded for he begins to fuck you in sincere earnest. his thrusts are fast and brutal, lit by a deep, primal fire you had no idea kai possessed. it knocks the wind out of you, overwhelmed in the best possible way, your mouth falling slack and your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you moan loudly every time his cock spears your cervix.

“deep! so f-fucking deep!” you hiccup breathlessly, surrendering yourself completely to the onslaught of red-hot pleasure. you can feel him in your belly, right under your navel, your wet little pussy squelching obscenely with every movement of kai’s hips. he finds your sweet spot with shocking ease, angling his cock to drag against that spongey bundle of nerves and make you even wetter.

“yeah?” kai croons, thrusting himself inside of you impossibly harder, faster, “feels so good, huh? fuck, this pussy’s so fucking wet, so fucking tight— best cunt i’ve ever had, baby, feels better than i ever imagined… can’t let you go now, perfect girl all for me. this perfect pussy’s all mine, you hear, no one elses!”

he recaptures your pert nipple between his lips, suckling even rougher than before; your breasts bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts, sensitive flesh jiggling in his face as he trails his teeth and tongue across the planes of your cleavage, leaving dusky lovebites in his wake. he slobbers over your tits like a hungry dog, his moans and whines muffled by your nipples he takes turns slurping them up into his mouth. the pangs of pleasure from your sore nipples combined with kai’s quickening pace and filthy words tug you closer and closer to the brink of insanity, the fiery hot tsunami building deep within your belly threatening to overflow and toss you into its euphoric depths.

“love you so much,” kai admits as he continues to babble nonsense, seemingly not noticing just what was coming out of his mouth, “been wanting you for so fucking long, needed you  so bad— my pretty girl, so beautiful, wanna see your face when you cum. you must look so sexy when you cum.”

your heart clenches along with your cunt.

there is nothing you can see, but there is plenty you can hear— kai’s hips clapping against your ass, his beautiful broken whimpering, the slick sounds of your pussy gushing around his cock. you open your mouth to speak, voice the mounting ecstasy that built steadily in your throbbing cunt, but you can’t seem to get out anything other than shrill, pathetic cries of pleasure. your mind was wiped completely blank, nothing but static behind your eyes, thoughts filled with nothing except the pressure in your core and how good it would feel if you let it consume you.

“gonna cum!” you wail, using up all your energy into making yourself speak— kai groans happily, his thrusts grow desperate and sloppy, speeding up to pound your sweet spot into oblivion.

“yes! cum with me, angel, come on, you can do it.” he coos, voice shaking as his body jolts and shudders above you. his hands come down to press hard on your engorged, sensitive clit, rubbing tight circles against the throbbing bud. “that’s it, make a mess, cum all over my cock!”

your orgasm hits you like a truck, your entire body shaking from the overwhelming pleasure as you pulsate and gush around him. you recognize distantly that you’re squirting, droplets of viscous liquid splashing all over your tummy and thighs, drenching huening as well. your release triggers his own climax, and he wrenches out his cock from your quivering pussy just milliseconds before ropes and ropes of thick, sticky cum splatters hot and wet all over your heaving tits.

“holy fuck,” kai whimpers, unable to catch his breath, “that was the best sex i’ve ever had.”

you just giggle weakly, trying to calm down your racing heart yourself; the two of you lay against each other in silence for a moment basking in the afterglow while you both come down from your highs. your orgasm sucked all the life force out of you, it seemed, leaving you weak and exhausted as you lay boneless on the cold storage closet floor.

and just like that, the lights turn back on. the heating system starts back up again. you’re nearly blinded after spending so long in the dark, squinting your eyes as you take in your surroundings.

kai is staring right back at you.

his dark hair is wild and sticking out in all directions, his eyes blown wide and his cheeks dusted pink. his tie is half-undone and his work shirt is terribly wrinkled, drenched in what you can only assume to be your juices. his softening cock lies against his thigh, poking out from his unzipped fly, slacks just as damp and ruined as his shirt was. his chest heaves with the force of his breaths, no doubt taking in your own appearance himself. you look down just enough to see your torn clothes, your cumstained breasts and wet thighs, your smart professional outfit looking like it was ravaged by some sort of rabid animal.

“you look beautiful.” kai whispers in rapture, gazing down at you with soft melted chocolate eyes.

“um.” you respond smartly, cheeks burning, averting your eyes to check the closet door— the keypad’s light blinks cheerfully at you, as if it had never been turned off in the first place. “do you want to get out of here?”

kai smiles, that signature smile that gives you even more butterflies now than it did before. “do you wanna watch a christmas movie at my place?”

tomorrow x together taglist ; @wintertxt, @boba-beom, @wolfytae-exe, @naomiarai , @mapofthemazeinthemirror , @bunnie-hq , @doumachi , @numxra , @soobinsbuns , @taegimood , @jeniihss, @soobabby , @hhoneylix , @beargyuuzz @fullbodyblankets , @xenkimmie , @ttaesoob , @shinyngirl , @lxnoluvr , @blxxsss , @ode2soob , @beom-gyubears, @ashiixari , @lurking-coconut , @horanghaelovr , @yyeonzi , @paegesoobin , @nightlyhyuka, @urstylezx , @f4iryfever , @givethnofucketh , @allisonistrashh, @katsukis1wife , @luvtyunn , @tyunzonlystar, @inkigayocamman , @hyunj00 , @hwanghyunjinismybae , @strawberryshoujosundae , @enigmaticaphrodite , @txtistheloml , @jellymochii, @welostthesummer111, @skzooluvr

to join the taglist, please fill out the taglist form here!

©𝚖𝚒𝚞-𝚙𝚘𝚠.𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐。𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖. 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Father figure!Jason Todd who finds you battered and hungry in a dark alley way, heart clenching at the sight of a weak child like you. He scooped you up, safely tucking you into his leather jacket before he gets you into his safe house.

Father figure!Jason Todd Who makes sure to buy you comfortable clothes and never let you be hungry again.

Father figure!Jason Todd Who keeps you a secret from everyone else, scared you could get into danger. He contemplates his life every once in a while, not sure why he scooped you up and decided to take care of you. But now it‘s too late.

Father figure!Jason Todd who makes sure to be at every parent-teacher conference even though he couldn‘t care less about education. He still helps you with your homework anytime he can, being sometimes more confused than you. (He had to call Tim one time because the math questions are getting harder and harder)

“No, I‘m just curious, what‘s a square root again? And how do you… oh, okay. I swear, I‘m just curious, I haven‘t done math in a long time, okay?!“

Father figure!Jason Todd who is extra careful whenever you hang out with friends. A built in tracker in your phone, checking in every once in a while through text, picking you up on his bike after every hang out.

Father figure!Jason Todd who gives other parents side-glances who are unreasonably strict.

“Well, my kid is allowed to drink juice anytime of the day. Just need to make sure to brush the teeth before bedtime, don‘t know what‘s the problem…“

“No, picking up my kid on my bike never was a problem. Ever heard of a helmet and body armor?“

Father figure!Jason Todd who really tries to be the cool dad. Tries to use that slang the younger generation uses when you get older.

Father figure!Jason Todd who smirks proudly every time you cringe at it.

Father!Jason Todd who supports you at your hobbies and makes sure to make your silly dreams come true.

Father!Jason Todd who will make time and cancel every other plan whenever you have a performance at school or other.

Father!Jason Todd who tries not to be the average, cheesy dad you see in movies… but fails with how many pictures he took throughout your childhood, not wanting to miss any moment of your life.

Father!Jason Todd who is way more protective of you around the Batfamily. Tries to meet them without you by his side, leaving you at Roy‘s with Lian.

Father!Jason Todd who hates to see you hurt or injured. Leaves everything once you complain or voice your worries that plague you at the moment. He‘s not good with his words, and you know that, but he always tries through showing his support in different ways. Cooking your favourite meals and you can watch him work in the kitchen at the same time. Or making a warm, fuzzy nest with blankets and pillows, to make sure you feel safer and more comfortable.

Father!Jason Todd who hates every crush you mention. Makes sure to tell you about every danger and possible worst outcome there is once you get into a relationship. Literally fake gags dramatically when he catches you texting your partner or doing anything remotely romantic with them.

Father!Jason Todd who doesn‘t know how he managed to have a well-behaved child like you, but would never trade you for anything else in the world.

←MASTERLIST

[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

  “Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around. 

  Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

  “I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.” 

  “Wha’?”

  “Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

  Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

  “Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair. 

  While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him. 

  Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him. 

  The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention. 

  Someone. 

  Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side. 

  Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

  He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

  Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

  They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 

  Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough. 

  Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie. 

  He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

  He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

  Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

  And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

  The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

  Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

  With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

  “It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

  If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

  Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

  NOW, 1989

  “Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

  “Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

  You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

  Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand. 

  When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

  Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

  You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

  Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying. 

  You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job. 

  You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan. 

  So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

  Your mother was murdered.

  Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

  Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional. 

  The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

  Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

  And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery. 

  Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself. 

  You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

  You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

  Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace. 

  The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

  Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells. 

  He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting. 

  So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

  When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead. 

  “Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

  It was a little odd, but you did. 

  When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

  “I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

  “I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

  Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

  The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

  You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him. 

  You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

  You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

  “Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

  You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

  “Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

  But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

  You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

  What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

  “YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring. 

  “He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

  You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

  “Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

  “Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

  You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

  You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.” 

  Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

  Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss. 

  “I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

  And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

  You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked. 

  “I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

  “Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.” 

  You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

  Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

  Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

  “It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

  You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that. 

  “That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.” 

  Didn’t feel like it.

  Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

  You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

  “No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

  Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

  “Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

  “You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

  Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands. 

  “And I can. Please, let me do this.”

  You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

  After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

  You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

  You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

  You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

  Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

  Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

  “It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it. 

  You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

  “So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject. 

  “It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university. 

  Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

  “See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?” 

  You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat. 

  “Okay, spill.”

  Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

  “Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!” 

  This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile. 

  “Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush. 

  “Steve Harrington.”

  “STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

  “Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

  “Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

  You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

  “Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.” 

  You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

  “And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again. 

  “Does he flirt with you?”

  “No.”

  “See him flirt with any girls?”

  “Nope.”

  “Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

  “Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

  Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

  You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

  “He’s on the spectrum?”

  Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

  It got quiet for a few moments.

  ”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

  You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most. 

  She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

  ”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

  “Reefer Rick?”

  “Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

  Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

  Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

  Munson.

  You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

  You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

  Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

  “I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

  “How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

  “Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

  You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

  Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

  Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

  “Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

  “No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

  “How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

  “I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

  Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

  “H-He’s your favorite…?”

  “Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

  “You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

  You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you. 

  “Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

  Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

  “He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

  Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

  You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

  You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

  You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea. 

  “Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

  Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

  Maybe a drink would calm you down.

  You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

  “The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now. 

  “What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

  “Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

  You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

  Oh, shit. 

  Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

  You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

  ”Funny seeing you here.”

  You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

  “Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

  You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off. 

  “It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

  “I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

  “Oh.”

  He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

  OH, THANK FUCK. 

  “Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

  “So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

  “Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

  She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

  “Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

  “Hey, Carol.”

  Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

  “You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl. 

  “Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

  “Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

  “You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

  “I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

  Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

  When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

  Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

  “Oopsie.”

  But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

  “Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy. 

  Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

  Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

  At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

  You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

  Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning. 

  You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

  You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

  You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

  “You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

  “You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

  “Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

  He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

  “You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

  He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

  Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

  “I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

  “Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

  “Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it. 

  Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

  ”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

  “You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

  “Wall.”

  “Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

  “Great Wall of China.”

  Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

  “Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

  Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense. 

  Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

  ”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

  “Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing. 

  “Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

  “Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

  And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

  At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

  Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

  Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

  “Does that feel good?”

  You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.” 

  Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

  Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

  You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

  All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

  You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

  To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

  Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

  “I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

  You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

  When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.

  The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

  The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within. 

  She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

  You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

  Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

  “Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

  Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

  You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you. 

  His right arm was out, palm up.

  He was waiting for you.

  You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

  Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

  “Sissy. . .”

  “Sissy…”

  “SISSY!”

  You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

  She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect. 

  What the hell?

  “You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

  You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways. 

  You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

  “It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

  “Oh my god…”

  “So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

  You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

  “Ooh, your knees…”

  You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

  “I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

  “Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

  Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

  “You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

  Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist. 

  “Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once. 

  “Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

  “It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

  “Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

  You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

  “Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

  “It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

  “Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

  “That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

  “Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

  “I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

  You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

  Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

  You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

  “─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

  ”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

  “And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing. 

  “That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

  Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning. 

  You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

  You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

  But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

  You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

  You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

  “Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

  You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

  “I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

  You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

  “Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

  “THAT WE DO!” 

  You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

  “What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

  “Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

  “Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

  “Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

  “Mm. White wine?”

  It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

  “Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

  You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

  You shot him a glare.

  “Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

  You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers. 

  You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

  When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

  Then your eyes snapped open.

  Oh, god. You were a loser.

  After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

  A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

  “Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

  “Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

  There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

  “Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation. 

  “She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

  “I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

  “Yes, we got a free soda!”

  Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

  You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a  reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

  “Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

  Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

  “Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

  “Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

  “You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

  “All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.” 

  “Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

  “I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

  “I bet you can.”

  After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

  You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

  Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

  You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house. 

  Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder. 

  And it was coming from outside your front door.

  You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

  Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home. 

  You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

  “Uuuhhhnng…”

  This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

  ”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

  You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

  “Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

  You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

  “OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

  Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

  Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life. 

  “Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!” 

  You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

  Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs. 

  You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

  “Stop it!”

  “Leave me alone!”

  “Go away, I’m just a girl!”

  The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

  Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

  You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

  You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

  Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located. 

  On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature. 

  You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it. 

  Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

  The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

  When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

  Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

  His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

  “It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.” 

  He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation, 

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

  “Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

  “I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

  It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

  He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

  You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

  “Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

  He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

  “Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

  A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

  Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

  “C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

You're the One - 1

Summary: A daughter uncovers the wild, untold story of how her parents’ marriage began—and it’s way better than any romance movie she’s ever watched.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Comedy

Words Count : 2,100

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 ,-

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Having a cool dad like Bucky is a blessing. For Jade, it definitely is. Her friends, after meeting him, always say things like: “He’s so cool!” “He’s so funny!” or even, “Can we trade dads?”

Jade could only roll her eyes. Sure, Bucky’s pretty chill and easygoing about most things, but there’s one thing that drives her crazy.

It’s not a big deal for her, but for Bucky, it’s a huge one.

Romantic movies, especially where the bride runs away from the wedding.

That’s why their house only has action and mystery movies.

But tonight, Jade wants to watch one of her favorite genres at home. Why? Because their home theater is amazing, a special project Bucky built for his wife and daughter.

Unfortunately, her dad’s silly rules mean she can’t enjoy it.

But tonight is different. He’s heading out to pick up her mom from the airport.

Jade is sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting for her dad to leave.

In the hallway, Bucky stands in front of the mirror, fixing his hair and shirt while whistling a tune. Through the mirror, he notices Jade watching him.

“Don’t have a house party,” he says, pointing at her with mock sternness.

“Yes, yes,” Jade replies, hopping off the counter. She walks over, pushes him toward the garage, and tosses him the car keys. “Go pick up Mom.”

Bucky chuckles as he stumbles slightly. “Alright, alright. You’re awfully eager to get rid of me tonight.”

She smirks. “I just know how much you missed her. You two will probably go straight to dinner or something. Now, go!”

Bucky shakes his head, amused, and heads to the car. But as he opens the door, he suddenly stops.

“Wait… my wallet.”

He heads back inside.

“Jade?” he calls out. No response.

On the counter, his wallet sits neatly next to the fruit bowl. Grabbing it, he pauses. The house feels… too quiet.

“Jade!” he calls again, louder this time.

Still no answer. Frowning, he checks the living room and kitchen before heading upstairs. Knocking on her bedroom door, he’s met with silence.

“Did she sneak out?” he mutters. That didn’t seem like her.

Then it hits him. The home theater.

As he walks back downstairs, the faint smell of buttered popcorn wafts through the air. His suspicions confirmed, he pushes open the theater door.

“Jade!”

Startled, Jade nearly drops her popcorn but manages to save most of it. “Dad!”

She fumbles for the remote, pausing the movie and quickly turning off the screen. Her heart races—the scene on display had been the bride in a wedding dress.

Bucky strides forward, picks up the DVD case, and reads the summary. With a single glance, he knows exactly what it is.

“Jade, how many times have I told you? No romantic movies like this in my house.”

“But why?” she groans, flopping dramatically into her seat. “We have the best home theater! I just want to use it!”

Bucky crosses his arms, his expression stern. “Because they’re predictable. It’s always the same: someone’s crying, someone’s chasing, someone’s kissing. And the bride always runs away for some cliché reason.”

Jade huffs. “Why do you hate them so much? It’s not like Mom ever ran away from a wedding or something.”

The moment she says it, Bucky freezes.

Jade stares at him, her eyes widening. “Oh my God. Wait—she did, didn’t she?”

Bucky doesn’t answer. He turns and heads toward the door, but Jade jumps up, running after him.

She wraps her arms around his waist, trying to hold him back. “Dad! Is it true? Did Mom run away? How did you chase her? Why am I just finding out now?”

“I’m going to be late picking her up,” Bucky mutters, dragging himself forward with his daughter clinging to him like a koala.

Then, a notification chimes.

Both father and daughter glance at the phone on the counter.

The family group chat reads: “The flight’s delayed three hours. 😔”

Jade grabs the phone and shows him. “Look, Dad! Mom won’t be here for another five hours.”

Bucky sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Please tell me!” Jade begs. “I promise I won’t watch the movie. This is way more interesting. Why did Mom run?”

Bucky turns to her with a serious expression. “She didn’t run away.”

“Huh?” Jade tilts her head, confused.

“She didn’t run away,” Bucky repeats. “I kidnapped her on her wedding day.”

The room goes silent.

Jade’s jaw drops as she points an accusing finger at him. “You… you stole Mom from someone else?! You're the bad guy!"

Bucky rolls his eyes and pushes her hand down. “If I hadn’t, she wouldn’t have had a happy life.”

He heads to the kitchen, grabs a cold bottle of water from the fridge, and takes a long drink.

Jade, now buzzing with excitement, follows him like a shadow. “Tell me! Tell me everything! How did that happen?”

Seeing her curiosity, Bucky sighs and gestures to the couch. “Fine. Sit down. I’m only telling this story once.”

Jade darts to the couch, grabs her popcorn, and settles in, eyes wide with anticipation.

Bucky clears his throat and leans back against the counter. “Alright. It was 15 years ago…”

💍🔔💍🔔

15 Years Ago

The changing room in the chapel buzzes with excitement. Your bridesmaids gather near the mirrors, giggling and chatting as they adjust their dresses and share jokes.

“Oh, did you see the flower arrangements?” one of them exclaims. “The Jordans really went all out!”

“They’re stunning. Just like this wedding,” another adds with a dreamy sigh.

Their energy fills the room, but you sit quietly in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. The white wedding dress you’re wearing is nothing short of a masterpiece. Designed by a world-renowned fashion house, it fits you perfectly, every intricate detail exuding elegance. The lace, the pearls, the veil—it’s flawless.

But it doesn’t feel like yours.

“You’re so lucky,” one of the bridesmaids says, leaning toward you with a knowing smile. “Everything about this wedding is perfect. And Clark? He’s an absolute catch. You’re living a dream!”

You force a smile, your lips twitching just enough to look convincing. “Yeah… lucky,” you reply softly, though your voice lacks conviction.

In truth, you don’t feel lucky. You feel trapped. This wedding isn’t about love; it’s about business. The Jordans—one of the wealthiest families in the country—are securing an alliance with your family. It’s an arrangement, a deal sealed with vows.

It’s not that you dislike Clark. He’s kind, patient, and honest—a good man by anyone’s standards. The wedding is happening with your consent, after all.

Still, your heart feels heavy, uneasy. Marriage is forever. And with Clark? The problem is, you don’t love him. Not yet.

You hope, maybe after the wedding, the love will grow. Maybe with time, you’ll learn to love each other deeply. But right now, your heart is stuck in the past.

It doesn’t belong to Clark—it belongs to someone else.

Bucky.

The thought of his name makes your breath hitch. That wild man who once turned your world upside down. He was nothing like the calm, dependable Clark. Your parents couldn’t stand him, but you didn’t care. You chose him. For a while, you and Bucky were unshakable, inseparable—until life threw challenges your way, and the weight of it all broke you apart. He was the one who ended it, leaving you shattered.

Your gaze drifts to the window. You wonder where he is now. Is he happy? Did he achieve his dreams? Has he found someone else?

You shake your head and whisper to yourself, “Why am I even thinking about him?”

Pressing your palms to your cheeks, you try to push the thoughts away. It’s your wedding day. You should be focused on Clark, not your ex. You give yourself a light tap on the forehead. “Stop it,” you mutter.

But just as you’re about to take a deep breath, the door to the changing room bursts open with a loud bang.

Startled, you whip your head around, your eyes widening.

“Bucky?!”

There he is, standing in the doorway like he’s just stepped out of a different world. His leather jacket looks completely out of place among the pristine suits and elegant dresses. His dark jeans and worn boots carry the same rugged confidence you remember.

“What are you doing here?” you stammer, rising to your feet, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might leap out of your chest.

He steps closer, a familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Isn’t it obvious?” he says, his voice low and teasing. “I’m here to steal the bride.”

Your breath catches, and your mind races. “Huh?” is all you manage to get out.

Before you can process what’s happening, he closes the distance between you. In one swift motion, he grabs you and hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Bucky!” you shriek, pounding your fists against his back. “Put me down! Are you insane?!”

He chuckles, his grip firm as he carries you toward the door. “A little, yeah. But you’re not staying here.”

Your bridesmaids are frozen in shock, their mouths agape. One finally breaks the silence with a panicked, “Somebody stop him!”

But no one moves. Maybe it’s the sheer audacity of the moment, or maybe it’s the dangerous confidence in Bucky’s eyes. Either way, you find yourself being carried out of the room, your heart racing in a way that feels strangely familiar.

“Bucky!” you shout again, your voice laced with equal parts anger and panic. “You can’t do this!”

“Oh, I can,” he replies smoothly, “and I am.”

As he strides down the hallway, you struggle to free yourself, but his grip doesn’t falter. Despite the chaos, there’s a part of you—a small, buried part—that feels alive in a way it hasn’t in years.

And that terrifies you.

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[serawritesthings]

COERCION, AND OTHER SUCH TENDENCIES

Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary | Longing for you seems to have become a daily habit for Arthur as of late, amidst work and rest, and while he could honestly say watching you from a distance was enticing enough, there were a few things he desired more. Tags | fluff, a pining Arthur (as per usual) Word Count | 4.8k A/N | Hello again, lovelies! I wrote together a shorter fic about Arthur that's a bit more lighthearted than the stuff I usually write. Hope you like it! <3 By the way, feel free to throw in some requests if you'd like <3

It was smooth—so smooth, like thick honey filling his ears, soothing every ache and doubt, every pain and hardship. Like cough drops eased his throat, your voice found its way into his head, numbing his mind until it turned to a sickly syrup when the familiar, bashful laugh quietly filled the air. He damned every bird that sang, every crow that cawed, despised Swanson’s drunken rambling, for it distorted your soft murmurs, keeping him from imagining you were right beside him, whispering the words in his ears instead.

A soundless chuckle left Arthur as he realized the absurdity of his thoughts when he, for once, let them drift away, unwilling yet drawn to them. He couldn’t deny, though, that there was a certain allure to think of you this way, to direct any thoughts that could be even remotely romantic to something so good—so pure. Longing and a fair bit of desperation were surely in play, ever the dreamer and, more often than not, a procrastinator.

“Fool, Morgan,” he mumbled under his breath, shaking his head to rid himself of these thoughts when his imagination became so vivid he could almost feel the touch of your hands on his skin. 

The gazing sun blazed unforgivingly when he opened his eyes, a shudder running through him when you could be heard closer than before. He basked in your voice’s rich, hushed tones as your figure appeared before him through the trees separating you. Droopy eyes followed along your silhouette as you slowly passed him in the distance, sinfully following along the tiny show of curves your clothes allowed. Against his will, they drifted to the place where your apron had been tied tighter than usual, following along the cotton until they caressed the part where your dress pushed against your bosom, squinting his eyes to try and see the supple flesh that now seemed so inviting, so soft and heavenly.

His lids closed once more when warmth started seeping into his veins, bringing his arm to rub against them so the image of you would wishfully leave. Utterly and fascinatingly dumbfounded is where you had brought him, whether you were aware of it or not, and while he could honestly say it was unlikely you were, somewhere he damned you for bringing him to his knees so effortlessly. Who would have thought he could plow through men easily, neither afraid nor with an ounce of difficulty, yet somehow, you made him feel both of those things the moment you crossed his mind.

It was absurd, really, and Arthur was not a man familiar with the sole thought of being uncomfortable. Yet, you managed to make his skin prickle until it felt like bugs scattered through his body, so distraught—barely recognizing himself when your eyes found his, both mind and body limp. 

“Oh, Arthur,” Startled, he perked up by the sudden noise, blinking a few times as he removed his arm that had shielded him from the evening sun. Quickly, you leaned down over him where he had perched himself against a tree, deciding that snoozing away would be the most productive way to spend the rest of his day, even though the bark scratched against his sore back— the distant howling of Reverend irritating his ears. 

“How did this happen?” Nimble fingers found their way to his cheek, lifting his face so you could inspect him thoroughly. A look so displeased formed on your face that if anyone else had been the reason for it, he wouldn’t hesitate a second to bury them ten feet underground. He almost chuckled at the thought, all too aware of your hatred for bodily harm and other such nonsense Arthur himself saw as chicken feed. Yet, he couldn’t help it; it was entirely too endearing for him to belittle you for it, finding your immense vexation heart-warming—when it was directed at him, of course. 

Your soothing caress, though, reminded him of the throbbing pain that pinched his jaw, and as he moved it to get rid of the stiff sensation, he hissed, downplaying it by tilting his hat further down, relaxing against the tree. He did not care to remove your hand, though, secretly basking in the softness of your skin against his tender, pulsating one—tongue growing limp in his mouth as his mind grew blank, losing the art of speaking he otherwise had quite a knack for.

“Ain’t nothin’,” he mumbled, sleep lingering in his voice. It wasn’t just nothing, and he was pretty sure you knew that, too, because he could almost hear the way your brows furrowed at his seemingly grumpy answer. 

You only sighed, frowning deeply when your hands left his cheeks to grab his hat, which you carefully put on the moss-filled ground. Softly, your fingers brushed the sweaty strands of his hair from his forehead, flattening out the harsh lines that had almost become a consistent part of his face by now.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” you retorted, sitting on your knees to better examine his purple bruise. “Is it sore? You’ve bled, you know.”

He could almost laugh at the worry that laced your words, hidden behind your careful wording. How very usual, and not any less unbecoming of you to notice every scratch and cut on his skin like your eyes could see through clothes and metal. More than that, he was still bewildered that you could see deeper than that, through both flesh and bone, like you had skinned him alive and examined every part of him. It was, to many extents, terrifying—being so bare and naked in someone’s presence, even though he was clothed to the till.

“Mmh,” he ruffed out a sound of acknowledgment. He was too deep in thought to feel your stare, which should have made the hair on his body stand straight up in fright if his eyes weren’t closed. More so, he grew lost in how your fingers caressed his face, stomach almost turning upside down when they found their way to his hair, dragging through the honey-blonde strands.

“Long day?” You had to admit defeat, deciding that irritating an already grumpy Arthur would ruin both yours and his day. Although you were still not pleased he kept the reason for his beaten face from you, but when it came to Arthur, it could have been all of the above. You should have become used to it, but it grew more complicated to deal with as time passed, just as it did having to ponder his whereabouts. Not once did he tell you of his misfortunes; the only way it would get through to you was from the other’s talking—surprised faces turning towards you when they figured Arthur never let you in on their daily business and various mishaps in the form of bruising and worse, a red, dark liquid only you seemed to find distressful among your dear friends.

A huff was your only answer, and as you gazed at him for a few seconds, you could almost believe he’d gone back to sleep. Slowly, a small smile grew on your face, all too aware that he’d not been back at camp for a few days, which was surely the reason for his aloof nature, deeming it a valid reason for snoozing off. Truly, he wanted nothing more than to feel the grasp of slumber pull him back down, but sleep could never rival you, and the tender touches you left on his skin made him believe he might be dreaming. But again, most of his dreams these days consisted of you, whether of the nightmarish sort or not.

As your fingers graze his scalp, a shudder runs through his body, his thoughts cast far away, fingers twitching where they lay at his side, itching to reach out to you and to pull you into his arms so he could feel your body against his—feel the skin that hid underneath your clothes. Or, perhaps, he should say those damned clothes, which hugged your body so beautifully. Arthur often wondered if you were doing it on purpose, pondered if you’d picked it out simply to torment him—as if he wasn’t a man made to suffer already.

There were days when sleep was so far away he could almost swear that, in his deluded and exhausted state, he could feel the same caresses on his skin that he felt now. The ghost of your lips caressed the juncture of his neck, only to realize that his hair strands were blowing against his skin from the soft wind. He couldn’t decide if it was in his favor, growing more miserable than anything when he realized you hadn’t been there. Torture and some other types of depraving punishment were what it was.

“Come ‘ere,” he mumbled, tired hands lifting slightly to invite you in, beckoning you to crawl into his embrace. His mind was jumbled, and he hadn’t had much sleep as of late, and your touch—your addictive, mind-numbing touch—managed to set his head askew. Oh, how he always wanted more of you, realizing slowly that the thought of not getting what he now wished for would leave him in horrendous anguish.

“What?” Your smile faltered slightly, confusion now written on your face at his sudden words.

“I said," he muttered, a mild annoyance lacing his voice as one hand reached for you. “Come ‘ere.”

“You should rest,” you answered, blushing at his sudden display as you removed your hand from his hair. Your heart skipped a beat as you glanced at him, finding his half-lidded eyes gazing at you. You had trouble admitting it to yourself, yet his lap seemed more inviting when your eyes faltered to find somewhere else to look, trying to ignore his one hand that patted his thigh to beckon you further.

“To hell with that,” he muttered, frowning when he saw you move away from him.

“Well, there’s, you know…” you said quietly, looking behind you through the trees, trying to spot your camp members through the foliage. “Someone could see, Arthur.”

“Come on, sweetheart, it’ll help with the pain.” You gave him a ridiculous look as he moved his jaw and pretended to hiss from the pain, not amused by his blatant lie and laughable attempt at coercion.

“Oh?” Despite his poor endeavor, you couldn’t help but see the corners of your mouth lifting against your will, hand intertwining with his reaching one as you glanced behind you again, conflicted.

His heart warmed at the sight of you, your bashfulness and avoidant eyes only making him long for you harder. It wasn’t unusual for you to avoid his advances, to glance or walk away when he neared you, too shy for your good. Certainly, perhaps he came to you in moments where physical contact might not be deemed appropriate. Yet, the thought of your careful eyes that gazed around you, the small hitch of your breath when he stepped closer than usual in the presence of others, was addictive, bordering on a selfish enjoyment, perhaps.

Without a single notice, you were suddenly tugged forward as you cast a last glance backward, expecting someone to wander further into the surrounding woods as many of you do to escape the merciless sun, finding yourself toppling over Arthur’s body. Gasping slightly, you craned your neck to gaze at his now closed eyes, an amused smirk covering his lips when the palm of your hand hit his chest slightly, sitting up on his lap so you could gain some distance. 

“Beatin’ an already wounded man?” His tone was mimicking bafflement, yet the corners of his mouth he couldn’t quite bring down gave him away, and as you scoffed at him, huffs of laughter he tried to quiet down escaped him. “I didn’t peg you for a masochist.”

“I thought you said it didn’t hurt?” Your arms crossed, unamused by the teasing that seemed to grow more frequently as you spent more time with him. 

“Well, it does, but it don’t hurt when you do that thing with your hands,” Oh, how unfair it was, twisting and turning his words to make you speechless time and time again. Yet, you should’ve known; Arthur always had a way with words you couldn’t quite understand.  “Y’got some kind of witchcraft goin’ on, or what?”

“I might,” you said, narrowing your eyes when his hand squeezed playfully on your waist, wondering what suddenly got him in such a mood after his previous nonchalant—and incredibly grumpy—self. Yet the slight flutter in your stomach persisted as his admittance rang in your ears, tickling your insides when he let his palm rest against you instead of moving away.

Arthur only raised his eyebrow at your words, enjoying the gasp that left you when he suddenly, deliberately, let his legs shift upwards, rendering you nowhere else to fall than towards his chest. The warm, rumbling of his chest against the side of your face when he laughed quietly was infuriating, yet all the more enticing when both hands covered the small of your back, firmly caging you in his arms so you couldn’t possibly move away.

“Arthur-” you started but found yourself being cut off. 

“Well then, don’t stop those magic hands of yours if that’s what you're doin’,” he mumbled, lifting you further up his chest to rest his head against your shoulder, secretly enjoying how he finally had your body against his. A job very well executed, he’d say.

A sigh left you as you surrendered, arms wounding their way around his neck as his grip tightened around you and, in the process, pressed you further against him when he felt your hands slither their way into his hair once more. As you combed through the soft, wild strands, you felt the breeze caressing your skin, the distant, low rumble of clanging pots, and Uncle’s loud complaints mingling in the air.

“What really happened today, Arthur?” 

“Hm?” 

“With your face, I mean. What happened?” He only sighed at your question, and while you had expected to get no answer like usual, it surprised you when you got one.

“Ran into some fellers with John, that’s all. Y’know them Lemoyne boys, right?”

“Mmh,” you hummed in acknowledgment, feeling his thumbs slightly rub against you where they rested.

“They sure ain’t tough, but he got a lucky punch, I guess,” Arthur grumbled, obviously displeased with the poor fellow’s moment of luck. “Punched him a whole lot harder, though.”

Raising, you caressed his cheek softly while Arthur leaned his head against the tree to gaze down at you, his expression losing the irritation. With careful movements, you placed a kiss against the tender, slightly purple skin that stretched across his jaw, letting your lips hover for a moment as your eyes closed.

“Good,” you whispered, focusing on the faint flutters that seemed to travel across the place where he let his touch wander. “My tough outlaw,” you drawled, eyes glinting as your eyes met his, the corner of your lips lifting slightly, yet a certain tenderness hiding in your voice as you spoke.

“Yeah?” he squinted his eyes at you, hands squeezing around your waist once more, his touch not quite as lighthearted as before but slower, almost kneading the supple skin through your clothes. “You think so, huh?” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, feeling your heartbeat slow as the air around you shifted, turning humid as a shiver passed through your body. “I do.”

Letting your eyes falter from his, you stroke your fingers over his jaw, letting them slowly make their way down the slope of his neck until they trail over the specks of hair that covered the skin uncovered by his unbuttoned shirt. Slowly, you hooked your fingers over the button, pulling slightly on it so the fabric tightened around his shoulders, feeling his gaze heavy on you.

“What?” he smirked when you paused. “To shy?” You couldn’t tell if he meant to speak the words teasingly, for his tone appeared darker and lowly, eyes testing you carefully.

“Of what?” you retorted, watching his chest move as you took notice of his breathing that had grown heavier beneath you, finding his hands gliding lower down your waist so they now gripped onto the sides of your hips.

A quiet, strained laugh left him as you released his shirt, preparing to lean away slightly when his presence became too much—too imposing. Yet, you didn’t get the chance, only finding Arthur to straighten his otherwise slouching back to lean towards you, arms circling your waist so you wouldn’t fall back in surprise.

“Arthur…” you mumbled, feeling small when he suddenly towered over you. The sides of your thighs rested snuggly against his waist as your skirt gathered around you, the mossy ground damp against your bare knees.

“Mmh?” he hummed, raising an eyebrow when you spoke his name. You felt his hands flex restlessly, eyes plastered solely on your lips—as if his mind was further away than he let on.

“What are you…” you trailed off, words coming out in a breath as you moved slightly to escape the buckle of his belt that dug into your lower stomach, stilling when you heard a low grunt leave his chest, the damp skin of his forehead meeting your shoulder as his head fell limp.

Your breath hitched as you felt Arthur’s arms circle your waist, hugging you tighter against him while taking a deep breath to secretly breathe in your scent—internally groaning when he felt the curves he dreamed of not too long ago as his hands slowly caressed your sides. Cheeky, sure, he was all too aware of it, yet the sole thought of having you in his lap like this without naughtily copping a feeling would be a lost opportunity he would feel saddened about if it passed.

“Oh,”  he heard you mumble in surprise. “You know, this could be seen as a violation of private space,” you said matter-of-factly, petting his head in jest. “Also, it’s very unbecoming for a man to throw himself on an unsuspecting woman like this, more so in the middle of the woods, you know.” The rest of your words turned into nonsensical babbling, with no words registering, yet he enjoyed the sweet purring of your voice that vibrated against his cheek.

Arthur, being more prone to being a standoffish man, surely did his part to surprise you at times. Some would say hot or cold; you would say it was more of a tug between his responsibilities and wants, whereas the previous, more often than not, won. Unfairly, for that matter, yet you felt you had no say in it and, therefore, letting the parts play themselves out. You felt, though, that you had every right to be baffled by his twists and turns, careful of his moods, and worrisome of the nature of which he seemed to stretch the sanity of his own self.

“What do you say in your defense, mister Morgan?” you asked righteously—craning your head back in preparation for his answer as you wished your thoughts away.

“Mmh,” he mumbled against your skin, in actuality not having processed a single word that left your mouth, only reveling in the soft murmur of your voice that now surrounded him when you spoke, feeling the warm skin of your neck against his cheek that felt so soft. He would worry about rubbing it raw with his beard if not because he, at this particular moment, couldn’t think of anything but the swell of your hips that rested in his lap and the soft, pudgy thighs encasing his own.

“Mmh,” you quoted, “is not a suitable response-!“ Your last word ended in a small shriek, cut off by the realization that you were suddenly pushed towards the ground, your back meeting the soft moss of the forest floor. A breathless laugh left you at the motion, a small thrill traveling through your body when you felt Arthurs’s lips place themselves in the juncture of your neck, humming slightly as he did.

“Hey,” you said softly, gripping the hair that littered the nape of his neck to lift his head so he would finally look at you. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Sure,” he drawled, casting you a glance before letting his head fall back down, pushing his weight further into you.

It had been a dangerous move to gaze at you, as it always seemed to be, he’d come to find, and the sight itself made tiny, almost unnoticeable tendrils of warmth climb their way up his skin. He only got lost further into you, feeling the corners of his mouth rise when your legs found their way to his waist as if unconsciously. A dangerous invitation, indeed, yet one he couldn’t refuse even if it would mean his death, for it let him rest more comfortably over you, feeling the soft curvature of your body behind the heaps of clothing.

With a quick glance down amidst the small kisses he placed tenderly on your neck, he almost groaned at the sight of your bare legs that were now visible thanks to your skirt that had gathered above your knees. He imagined for a short while running the palm of his hand slowly among the meaty flesh of it, trailing his way to the inside of your thigh where you would be so sensitive—so responsive.

“No, you’re not,” you sighed, smiling when he once more met your gaze, your features softening when you felt his hand travel down your arm to intertwine your hand with his, unbeknownst to you the reason solely so they wouldn’t find their way down your bare thighs.

You had to admit, his persuasion tactics were entirely too well executed, and against your proper nature, they wronged every rule you had set for yourself—including being straddled by a man in the middle of the woods. Yet there was always something unrecognizable in his gaze, like molten coal swimming deep in his eyes, the light glow of embers burning at times as if caressed by the wind. Addictive, and there was no other way around it, no way for you to part with the thought of him.

“Well, ” he paused momentarily. “It ain’t my fault.” 

“Oh?” you scoffed. “Then who’s fault is it?” 

“Yours,” he said confidently, raising his brows in fake mock when your eyes suddenly squinted at him, the lines in your face deepening in disbelief at his accusation.

“My fa-” Once more, you were cut off; this time, Arthur’s laughter vibrated deep in his chest as if your reaction in and of itself amused him. 

“Alright, alright,” he mused, another snicker leaving him when you turned your face away from his kiss. “Easy there, tiger. Quite feisty today, aren’t you?” 

“Arthur Morgan, you are being incredibly difficult!”

He only hummed at your scolding, placing his lips on yours when your head turned towards his once more, unrespectful yet non-complaining. Slow and deliberate, the palm of your hand rose to protest but only ended up pressing lightly against the side of his chest to savor every second—the very sensation of being close. It didn’t help that his hands that were still on you created a warmth that seeped through your clothes and lingered on your skin, and as you lay there, tangled together on the forest floor, every passing sound seemed so far away, like a distant murmur that couldn’t quite reach you just yet.

For but a moment, you opened your eyes when the familiar graze of coldness you always felt when Arthur’s lips left yours spread. A smirk formed on his lips as his voice dropped into a low, raspy murmur, vibrating against your skin in a rumble.

“What’d I say? Like taming a tiger,” 

You exhaled a soft laugh, but you couldn’t possibly ignore how your heart was racing—almost growing paranoid he could feel it from being pressed so intimately against you.

“Arthur, you can’t just–” you started, but the words faltered when his thumb brushed across your bottom lip, not failing in making your thoughts that had been so carefully planned scatter away like dust being swept away by the wind.

“Can’t just what?” he said, the faintest tone of teasing in his voice yet molded with a certain huskiness, a low hum of desire bleeding through the soft murmurs. Rough, of course, as it always was, but there was a certain gentleness you’d never been able to get used to that only peeked out when he spoke to you.

“You know exactly what.” 

You could almost roll your eyes at the cockiness that shone through him, but the warmth that spread through your body betrayed any attempts you made in resistance. It’s simply not fair, yet there was only so much stubbornness left in your body that you could keep up, knowing very well this was where you longed to be the most—encased in his arms

Arthur only chuckled softly, shifting his weight as his other hand slid carefully down to rest on your hip, fingers brushing just below the hem of your skirt. His eyes caught your attention; the blue shades of his eyes almost seemed to darken as his chest moved steadily, almost daring you to protest when he slowly felt the skin underneath the pads of his fingers—just about to speak before a brash voice cut through the air.

“So this is where you hide, with clothes to be washed and dishes to clean!”

The sudden outburst made you feel like your heart jumped through your skin—jolting up in surprise so you almost hit your face against Arthur’s shoulder when he didn’t move a single muscle at the intrusion.

“Miss Grimshaw!” you gasped, pushing against Arthur’s chest when you found that he didn’t attempt to move, instead only raising his eyebrows as he gazed at the scandalized woman who glared at you from a few feet away.

“So do ‘em,” Arthur mumbled in annoyance, seemingly not caring if the woman had heard him or not. He directed his gaze towards your red cheeks before glancing at your frantic hands, which hit slightly against him, causing a small smile to take over his lips before the previous irritation filled his mind once more at having his time with you interrupted.

“I just-” you started, cut off by an unamused Grimshaw.

“I don’t care to hear it,” she said, hand placed firmly on her hip as she beckoned you over, turning around to walk towards camp with determined steps, muttering angrily to herself as if you’d committed a cardinal sin—or a few. “Behaving like teenagers.”

Crawling away from Arthur’s arms surrounding your sides, you quickly stood up, running a hand through your hair that had tangled something terribly at the back of your head. How embarrassing, you thought, closing your eyes momentarily before gazing at her fading figure, feet setting into motion the second she turned her head towards you.

The coercion that man harbored was all too ridiculous, yet you had to applaud his tactics, for they sure did the trick in rendering you willing every time. Curse him, and curse you for falling for it. Yet, as you glanced back at Arthur, you found your eyes growing smaller as you saw him once more leaning comfortably against the tree—like he’d never moved from his earlier position at all.

“Your skirt,” he said, making you stop in your tracks to throw him a confused look. 

“What?”

Opening one eye, he glanced at your legs, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk you could only explain as insufferably irritating, before closing it to place his hat over his eyes. Following his gaze, you found your skirt now twisted and wrinkled, having gotten caught, so it now showed a large portion of your one leg. 

A terrible heat crept up your neck as you tugged at the fabric, hastily straightening it as you damned Arthur’s smugness while berating yourself over this mortifying moment that he didn’t seem to bat an eye at.

“Real helpful,” you muttered under your breath, shooting him a chilling look that was meant to wound his ego—yet you doubted anything could pierce that thick skull of his. 

Turning your back on him, you tried to walk with a sense of purpose, as if you weren’t still reeling from your racing heart and tangled hair. But that woman—terribly unimpressed—already stood waiting for you in the distance as if she could sense your hesitation. The look she threw you stung, and you couldn’t help but feel like a scolded child under her gaze despite your age.

“Best hurry up before she rips into us both,” Arthur’s voice came for behind, teasing but low. You didn’t dignify it with a response, only picking up your pace as his laughter—soft and lazy—followed you all the way back to camp. You were sure there’d be words exchanged soon, ones you weren’t sure you wanted to deal with today. Though, despite this, you felt a small smile take over your frown, damning yourself for falling for his coercion time and time again.

“Damn you, Arthur Morgan.”

[cowboybeepboop]

The chase

”You know, Y/N, all these years of chasing storms... I think I've just realized what I've really been after." He pauses, his voice thick with emotion. "You. You're all I've ever been chasing."

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: smut, idk it’s romantic too

Word count: 4k

Summary: Rivals in their careers as YouTube tornado chasers. But where you focus on chasing the storm Tyler is more focused on chasing you.

a/n: tbh I didn’t proofread so if there are mistakes my bad. But anyways hope you enjoy it. If you have any requests lemme know I’d be more than happy to write something for you.

You and Tyler Owens are two of the most well renowned storm chasers on YouTube, but your rivalry is legendary. Where Tyler is known for his daring and high-risk approach, you pride yourself on meticulous awning and safety. Your heated competition has been the talk of the tornado chasing community for years.

When a massive superstorm is predicted to hit a remote region, the stakes are higher than ever. Both you and Tyler are determined to capture the most intense footage, proving once and for all who really is on top.

As you sit in your hotel room, scrolling through various weather reports and radar apps, you can’t help but feel the tension building in the air. It’s the night before the big storm. You glance over at the door, knowing that your biggest competitor, Tyler Owens, is just a room away. The thought of him being so close sends a surge of frustration through you, but you try to focus on your preparations for the storm ahead.

You just came out of a steamy shower, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and your white painties. A loud knock on the door startles you from your thoughts, a sigh leaving your lips as you open the door. A scowl covers your face as you see your rival standing in front of you with a sly grin.

He chuckles at your reaction, leaning in the doorway. “What’re you doing in there? Thinking about your favorite country boy?” You cross your arms over your chest, glaring up at him.

“What do you want Tyler?” Your voice is full of annoyance.

He chuckles again, taking in your annoyed expression, his own cocky smirk adorning his face. He looks over your figure, thinking about you in far more inappropriate ways than he should.

“Can’t I just stop by to talk?” His voice is low and seductive as he takes a step toward you.

Putting a hand on his chest stopping him from coming in any further. “No, not without wanting something from me.” Standing your ground, you continue with a stern tone. “I know you Tyler, you don’t just stop by for no reason.”

He smiles, putting his own hand on top of the one on his chest. He slowly looks you up and down again, biting his lip as he does so. “Maybe I just can’t stay away from you…”

He takes a step closer once again, towering over you. His eyes lock into yours as he study’s your expression. Your breath hitches in your throat as a soft blush creeps up your cheeks.

“And what is that supposed to mean, cowboy?” You say while trying to regain your composure.

He notices your blush, his smirk growing at your reaction. He takes another small and careful step to you, closing the door behind him. He brushes your hair behind your hair, his eyes looking you up and down.

“It means I can’t take my mind off of you,” He takes another cautious step closer, “No matter how hard I try…” his voice trails off, your bodies inches apart, his body pressing very gently against yours.

“Tyler…” you whisper breathlessly, “Stop messing with me,” you step away from him, clearing your throat. Taking a deep breath you finish your sentence “We have a big storm tomorrow, why don’t you stop playing games and go back to your room” our voice regaining its firmness.

His smile drops when you step away, his eyes looking slightly hurt, but his usual cocky facade covers it back up.

“Why would I play games with you?” His voice is softer than usual, a bit of anger in his words. He’s filled with frustration at your constant pushing him away, even though you’re the one thing he can think about. “Why can’t you just let down your guard for a second and let me in?”

His hand cups your cheek pulling you closer to him as he wraps an arm around your waist. “Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll leave,” he whispers.

“Tyler?” Your voice is quiet as you look into his blue-green eyes. His thumb caresses your cheek gently. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of what you’re thinking, but he comes up with nothing. His cocky act drops slightly and you can see through his eyes how desperate he is for you.

He leans down next to your ear, his hot breath brushing against your neck. His voice is quiet and low, a pleading tone in his words. “Say it…” his body presses closer to yours “Tell me you don’t want me.”

Your eyes flick to the door then back to him. You find yourself speechless with a newfound dryness in your throat. “Ty.. I..” your voice trails off.

His fingers run down your side, bringing you flush against his body, his hand taking in every curve of your hips and waist. He nuzzles the crook of your neck, his hot breath teasing your bare skin. His voice is even lower as he whispers to you

“Tell me this isn’t what you want,” he presses a soft kiss on your neck, “Tell me you want me to go,” his lips move further down your neck, to your collarbone. “Tell me you don’t want me.” His voice is filled with desperation as he slides a hand up your shirt cupping one of your breasts, his thumb rubbing over your hard nipple.

You press up against the wall, pleasure running through your body as a soft moan escapes your lips. “Tyler…” you move your hand to his hair, tugging on the roots softly while pulling him closer to you.

“Tyler, I want you…” Your voice trails off as you squeeze your eyes shut relishing in the feeling of his hands on your body. His lips move against the side of your neck, leaving a long, slow trail of kisses, bites and light hickeys. His body reacting to our moans.

A low growl leaves his lips as you say the words he’s been waiting to hear. A wave of pleasure washes over him, his hand grips the back of your thigh pulling you up against him until you’re lifted off the ground, legs wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck, Y/N,” His voice is low, “Say my name again,” his voice more demanding. Another knock at your door interrupts you and Tyler. His hands stay firm against your body even as he pulls his lips away from your skin.

”Y/N?” your storm chasing partner knocks at the door again. Tyler looks down at you with an expression of annoyance, frustrated at the interruption.

“Tyler…” your voice is stern as you pull your body away from his “hide in the bathroom” you whisper.

“You have to be kidding me. He mutters, reluctantly putting you down and letting his hands fall away from your body. As you send him into the bathroom he shoots you a glare before shutting the door leaving it open a crack, hiding in the bathroom and listening in on your conversation.

“Hey, Adam” you smile while inviting him in.

“Y/N, did you figure out what the plan is for tomorrow morning?” His hands cross over his chest as his eyes look you up and down, taking in your disheveled appearance. The only thing you’re wearing is a white tshirt over your lace panties.

He clears his throat, his hand going to his neck. Tyler looks through the crack of the bathroom door. He clenches his fist as he watches your partner taking in your appearance.

Tyler can see how Adam is thinking because it's the same way he is, like he would do anything to get his hands on you. He grits his teeth trying not to give away his hiding spot. He overhears your discussion but his eyes are more focused on you, and your current appearance.

"Hey, has that prick Owens come to bug you yet?” Adam’s voice is playful as you stifle an awkward laugh.

“Uh, not yet” your whole demeanor turns stiff as you try to lead him away from the bathroom door. Tyler rolls his eyes at the insult, he doesn’t like his competitors either, and the sentiment is usually very mutual.

“You know, Adam..” you brush your hand against his arm, continuing to try and lead him toward the door. He gives you a puzzled look as he’s not sure why you’re being so awkward.

Tyler watches you run your hand along his arm, his jaw clenching tight and his knuckles grow white as he tries to refrain from making a sound. He fights the urge to open the door and take you in his arms to pull you away from your partner.

“I’m a little tired..” you grimace while looking up at him, blocking his view to the bathroom. He squints his eyes looking toward the half closed door and he laughs.

“Y/N, is there someone in your bathroom?” His smile grows wide as he looks at your flushed face. “I’ll talk to you in the morning then,” you push him out the door, sighing as you lock it behind him.

Tyler rips the bathroom door open, coming out looking incredibly irritated and frustrated. His demeanor has changed as he stalks toward you, gently pinning you between his body and the wall. He places a hand against the wall next to you, taking a few seconds to look over your body.

“Does he talk to you like that a lot?” His voice is gruff, his usual cocky persona gone as he looks at you.

“Huh?” Your eyebrows furrow as you look up at Tyler, your hands grasping at his sides pulling him closer. “Talk to me like what?” You question. His frown deepens as he looks down at you.

“That goddamn cocky, arrogant bastard was hitting on you and you know it” he grumbles, anger seeping into his voice as he thinks back to how he was looking at you.

”Adam?” Your voice laced with confusion, “No way, he doesn’t think of me like that,” you lean forward, kissing his jaw gently. His eyes close as a low sigh leaves his lips, pulling you even closer.

“He was all but drooling over you right in front of me, there’s no way you didn’t notice it” he grits his teeth.

“Not even,” you kiss down his neck, “Adam is just a friend,” you mumble in between kisses. He lets out another low sigh while tilting his head to the side, giving you more access.

He pulls you on top of him as he sits down on the bed, trying to ignore the obvious and think of you instead. “I want you to be mine.” He whispers, his voice low and possessive. “All mine..” he groans while pulling you into a passionate kiss.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you deepen the kiss, moaning into his mouth as his hands wander your body, pulling you flush against him. You’re straddling his hips, your bare thighs brushing over his rough jeans.

His hands grip your hips tighter, needing you as close as he can manage. One arm wraps around your waist while his other hand grips your thigh. His thumb caresses your soft skin as he begins pulling you back and forth on his lap, trying to get as much pleasure out of the friction you create as he can.

Pulling away from the kiss you moan into his ear, satisfaction filling your body with the rough fabric against your pussy. Your hips match his movements as you grind down on him one hand slipping into his shirt as you feel his tense muscles.

A deep moan leaves his lips as your voice fills his ears, his hands grip you even tighter as you press down on him. His mind clouds with lust as he thinks about how tight you are under your lace panties.

He can’t hold himself back any longer, he leans forward and kisses your neck, sucking, biting and licking the sensitive skin leaving dark marks behind as his lips move down further. His hands spread your thighs, slipping one into the hem of your panties, moving up and down your stomach and trailing to your wetness.

“Oh fuck Tyler,” you moan loudly as his hand spreads your folds, his finger hitting your sensitive clit.

As Tyler's hand continues to explore your body, your mind races with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. But the desire burning within you is too strong to ignore. Tyler's touch ignites a fire deep within you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You can't deny the way his fingers glide across your skin, sending shivers down your spine. It's a heady combination of taboo and forbidden desire that leaves you craving more.

"Fuck," you gasp, your voice laced with need. "I want you inside me."

Tyler smirks against your neck, his hot breath sending tingles down your spine. "Yeah, baby?" he purrs seductively. His words fuel your desire even further as you arch into his touch, wanting to feel him buried deep inside you. But hesitation lingers in the back of your mind - fear that crossing this line will lead to consequences neither of you are prepared for.

You can't help but let out a moan of satisfaction as Tyler's fingers glide inside you. The friction against your clit and the pressure inside you are driving you wild. You arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him, desperate for more.

But just as you're about to reach the edge, a flicker of hesitation crosses your mind. The reality of what you're doing hits you like a ton of bricks, and doubt creeps in. You question your actions, wondering if this is really worth it.

"Fuck," you groan, your voice filled with both pleasure and uncertainty. "Is this really a good idea Tyler?”

Tyler's hand freezes in its motion, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. He knows that he's pushing boundaries, and he doesn't want to push you too far. Especially since he’s been dreaming of this day since he met you.

“Is everything okay?” You know that you’ve already crossed the line so there’s no going back. You nod.

“Yes, please make me cum,” you whine, “I’m so close…” you grind against his hand, your nails digging into his shoulders. The sound of Tyler's voice is music to your ears, fueling your desire even further. Your hips continue their frantic work, desperate for release.

Tyler smirks, reveling in the power he holds over you. He knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you crave him with every fiber of your being. He leans back against the headboard, as he watches you writhing in anticipation. "You're mine," he says with a devilish grin. "And I'm going to make you beg for it."

Your breath hitches at his words, excitement mingling with a hint of apprehension. You know that you're about to surrender yourself completely to this pleasure, but a small part of you wonders if you can handle what's coming next. He lays down underneath you and begins to slip your panties off. He guides your hips towards his face, you hesitate. “Ty, are you sure?”

"Oh, baby," he chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with lust. "I'm sure about it. I've been waiting for this moment since the day we met." Your mind races with conflicting thoughts as you hesitate, torn between your desire to give in and the nagging voice of reason in the back of your head. But there's no denying the raw desire that courses through her veins.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's about to come. With trembling hands, you slowly lower yourself onto Tyler's waiting face. The sensation is overwhelming - his warm breath against your clit sends shivers down your spine while his tongue traces delicate patterns along her folds.

Tyler moans softly into your pussy as you begin riding him, grinding against his lips with an intensity that borders on desperation. Your walls tighten around his fingers with each stroke, building up the anticipation until you can no longer hold back.

"Fuck," you moan, your voice strained with pleasure. "I can't. I can't take it anymore."

Tyler smirks up at you, his eyes glinting with triumph as he continues to devour you with fervor. He knows he's pushing your limits, pushing you to the edge of your sanity. But he also knows that this is what they both crave - the raw intensity of their desires colliding head-on.

You arch your back, urging him on with a mix of need and frustration. Your hips move in a desperate rhythm, grinding against his face as you teeter on the precipice of climax.

Tyler senses your impending release and increases his intensity, his tongue swirling around your clit in a relentless dance of pleasure. The sounds of their combined moans fill the room as you edge closer to the edge.

“Fuck, fuck,” you moan, biting down on the headboard in front of you as Tyler continues to hold your ass tight, forcing your hips down against his mouth as he licks up all your cum.

He moves your hips and sets you down on his chest, wiping away the juices left on his chin. “You taste so good baby”, crawling off of him you slip between his thighs. Your fingers fumble with his belt buckle, pulling it off as you undo his jeans. You slide them down his legs and pull his hard cock out of his boxers.

With the passion raging inside of you, you take a moment to appreciate the sight of his erect cock standing proudly before you. The air in the room is thick with desire, and the anticipation of what’s about to happen is almost unbearable. You lean down and kiss the tip of his dick, tasting the precum beading at the top.

Tyler's hands find their way into your hair, guiding you as you take him into your mouth. His hips jerk upwards as you start to suck, the pleasure evident in his deep, guttural moans. You feel a sense of power as you control his pleasure, your own need for release momentarily forgotten. As you deep throat him, your eyes never leave his, watching the storm of emotions playing out across his face.

The rivalry and tension between you two has always been palpable, but in this moment, it's transformed into something far more intimate and explosive. With the head of his cock bobbing against the back of your throat, you begin to suck harder and faster, feeling his thighs tense beneath you. Tyler's grip on your hair tightens, his moans growing louder and more desperate as he nears the brink of climax.

You can feel his cock pulsing in your mouth, and you know he's close. You reach down with one hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you deep throat him again. His hips buck up, and he lets out a strangled groan, his eyes squeezing shut. You keep going, determined to make him cum, to show him just how much power you have over him at this moment.

You feel his cock swell even more, and with one final, deep suck, Tyler's body goes rigid. He cums hard, filling your mouth with his hot, salty release. You swallow it all down, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and victory. As you pull away, Tyler's eyes open, a look of pure bliss and surprise on his face. He's never felt anything quite like this before, and the intensity of the experience leaves him momentarily speechless.

With a renewed hunger, Tyler sits up, his eyes never leaving yours as he runs his hands up your body, feeling the heat of your skin. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of your bare breasts, the rosy tips of your nipples standing erect with arousal. His thumbs graze them, watching as they pebble even further under his touch.

With a groan, he pulls you closer, his mouth claiming one peak while his other hand squeezes the other. You throw your head back, your hips rolling against his hardened length. His tongue flicks and swirls around your nipple, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.

The feeling is exquisite, and you can't help but let out a whimper of pleasure. He switches to the other, giving it the same rough treatment, his hands roaming your back and sides, leaving trails of fire wherever they go. Your pussy is soaking wet, and you can feel the heat of his cock against your stomach. The anticipation is agonizing, and you start to rock your hips against him, desperate for more.

With a growl of desire, Tyler lines up his cock with your dripping entrance. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, but all he sees is a mirror of his own need. He pushes into you slowly, inch by inch, watching as your eyes widen with pleasure.

You gasp as he fills you completely, the sensation of being stretched and filled by your rival's cock sending shockwaves through your body. He starts to move, his strokes long and gentle, his eyes never leaving yours. His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking your nipples as he kisses you deeply. The room is filled with the sweet symphony of your muffled moans and the slick sound of skin on skin.

The tension between you two has morphed into something beautiful and consuming. Tyler's movements become more deliberate, his hips rocking into you with a passion that speaks volumes about his feelings. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your body responding to every thrust with a roll of your hips.

As he kisses your neck and whispers sweet nothings into your ear, you realize that maybe, just maybe, this is what you've been craving all along. Tyler's strokes become more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening as he drives himself deep inside you. With a final, powerful thrust, he cums inside of you, filling you with his warmth. The room falls silent, save for the sound of the rain and your panting breaths.

For a moment, you just stay like that, your bodies entwined as you both come down from the intense high. Tyler's eyes are closed, his head resting on your shoulder, and his heart hammers against your chest. He pulls out slowly, and you feel a strange sense of loss as he does. But then he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close for a gentle cuddle. It's a stark contrast to the fiery passion that just consumed you both, but somehow, it feels right.

As you lay there, feeling the aftershocks of your shared climax, Tyler whispers something in your ear that makes your heart skip a beat. "You know, Y/N, all these years of chasing storms... I think I've just realized what I've really been after." He pauses, his voice thick with emotion. "You. You're all I've ever been chasing."

The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning. You're stunned into silence, unable to believe what you've just heard. But as you look into his eyes, you see the raw truth of his confession, and it hits you like a bolt of lightning. Despite the competition, the rivalry, and the tension that's always been between you, there's something undeniable here. Something that transcends the storms you both pursue.

You swallow hard, trying to find the right words to respond. But all you can manage is a soft "Me too, Tyler. Me too." And with that, you both sink into the warmth of the bed, the thunder outside a distant echo of the passion that just roared through you.Your head resting against his chest as the both of you fall into a deep sleep.

[slut4sugu]

BOYFRIEND HCS [selection: rin itoshi ! ]

inventory: fluff, lowkey meanie but sweetie rin, childhood friends to lovers, inexperienced!rin

BEFORE DATING

now we all know rim isn’t one for emotions, though he won’t even deny the fact that having you around makes things less boring. Whether it would be just playing games together and getting arguably very competitive in it, or calling just to not speak really at all.

He never really noticed the warmth in his chest when your knees touched or how your sleeping face made you look so silly yet peaceful..even adorable. However he would quickly reset his thoughts and shake off any he had about you that were even remotely romantic.

He enjoys your presence so when you’re not able to hang out one day or another friend has your attention he doesn’t like or understand the slight pit in his stomach when you give him a teasing goodbye. Walking away and leaving him alone once more

Rin ignores that feeling however, spending his time studying or practicing to ignore you. However that pit in his chest grows remarkably bigger when he sees you having fun with your other friends. Posts on your instagram stories causing a wave of jealousy and anger to wash over him. Once you’re able to hang the following day he’s salty quiet, though more so than usual. He plays games with you but he’s not in it like he was before. You can see the more prominent scowl on his pretty features and it pings your heart. So cautiously you ask him, “Rin? Are you mad at me?” It’s almost as if you want to make him hate you. The way your sweet soft voice is laced with guilt and slight sadness, he would want to punch himself in the face had he not seen your stories. “If you don’t like being here you’re not obligated to stay.” The stated bluntly, his eyes not meeting yours as he spoke.

Your brows furrowed into confusion as you tried to again decipher one of his blunt comments, it usually wasn’t hard to find the root of the problem but today he wasn’t giving any tells. Until it clicked, “Rin I like spending time with you- wait is this about me hanging out with bachira the other day?” You asked with an amused tone. Sucking his teeth, the tips of his ears flushing a light pink as his eyes flickered to your face.That cheeky smile plastered on it. That smile you would always get when you’d tease him. That same cheeky smile that lit a fire in his usually cold heart. “Out of all the morons to hang out with, you chose him?” Rolling your eyes, you’re flicked his shoulder playfully. Your heart fluttering as you glanced at his side profile In doing so. “What as opposed to you? You’re not exactly any better Rinnie.” You quip giggling, not noticing how his eyes softened seeing you smile. How the pit in his stomach seemingly dissipated as your giggles filled his room with such warmth. “You’re so damn annoying, next time cancel on him.”

“Anything for you, rinnie- poo.”

“..You’re pushing it.”

Later that evening, you got a call from Rin that was originally asking if you still have his jacket. Looking for a few minutes you found it in your closet, “Oh yeah I still have it. I can give it to you tomorrow at school if you want-“ “Keep it.” Your heart seemingly stopped at his words, does he just want it here? is he just lending it to me? “B-because you never wear a jacket in the mornings yet complain come 5th period. I don’t need you getting sick because of your lack of caution.” He quickly explained, his usual apathetic tone coming back and now making you more confused than ever. “Oh, alright. Thanks rinnie.” You said with a smile yet the slight tinge of sadness you held was detected by Rin. “Wait..there’s something else I need to tell you.”

Your heart nearly stopped beating when hearing Rin admit to having feelings for you, it wasn’t like you were ever expecting a rejection or even acceptance. You thought, your feelings would soon die out seeing how Rin Itoshi doesn’t have much time for love. A few moments of silence passed after the words were spoken, as you opened your mouth to say something the line went dead. You practically scrambled to call him back, taking a breath before doing so and promptly clicking call back. “..I don’t need your pity-“ “Rinnie I like you too.”

1-3 WEEKS AFTER DATING

The adjustment period from bestfriend to boyfriend were a little shakey, rin still seemingly treated you like he would when you would hang out in his room. However he would sit a bit closer to you now, his usual direct and blunt tone now seemingly dissipated when talking to you. Still seemingly apathetic but his soft delivery is what stirs the butterflies in your stomach.

The first time you hugged Rin from behind you could’ve swore you felt him flinch a little, and it almost seemed like you’d scared him for a moment causing you to quickly back off but after smelling your familiar perfume he relaxed and almost whispered, “I’m not a feral dog you can hug me dumbo.” The tips of his ears turning pink as he spoke. “Okay rinnie.”

After that things got a little more easier when it came to initiating physical touch, Rin had no idea who touch starved he was until you cuddled with him for the first time. You were watching a movie in the comforts of Rins room when you seemingly dozed off, your head softly resting against his shoulder as you curled into his side. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful. Fearing he’d wake you up, Rin didn’t move an inch despite how every bone in his body wanted to pull you flush against him and kiss you. Instead after a half hour, he shifted slightly so that now your head was on his chest. Smiling down at your sleeping face, Rin brushed a stray curl from your eyes before the comforts and warmth of your body seemingly lulled him to sleep as well.

has a habit of checking your instagram notes and stories to read your mood when he’s not with you, he’s surprisingly worrisome when it comes to you and how he can be sometimes. Rin knows he’s gonna have to learn how to be a good boyfriend so he takes it very seriously

Changed your name in his phone from y/n to idiot with a flower next to it.

FIRST FEW MONTHS

Starts to finally loosen up a bit, cuddling is now a normal thing for you guys now. He literally cannot go to sleep anymore without holding you. So when you can’t stay the night he’ll sleep call with you so he can properly sleep, your camera must be on. “Idiot, you think I care you don’t have makeup on? You look pretty either way shut it.”

Starts to get more serious about you two, so he starts to think about soft launching your relationship on his insta.

You two have your first kiss in the middle of the night, you had a nightmare about Rin getting bored of you and leaving you for someone better. After a few loving insults, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. Something that he had never done before but he felt appropriate for the moment. The tears that fell past your cheeks made his heart ache, tilting your chin up he wiped away your tears before asking you to close your eyes. Confused you were about to ask why, but were met with an eye roll as Rin just covered them for you with his hand and kissed you. Soon thankful how dark it was, otherwise you would’ve seen who flushed his face was.

You have a lot of firsts In these months, technically Rin says I love you on month 2 of you dating, but he was half asleep clinging to your body after you came back from doing your skincare routine so you didn’t count that. However it did bring happy tears to your eyes when you heard him say it.

After three months he buys you a promise ring, he’s familiar with the three month rule that was going around on social media but he paid no mind to such trivial standards. He was starting to fall for you, hard. Seeing you wake up beside him, baking cookies and wearing matching hoodies..was pure bliss. Though he doesn’t give you the ring until your 4th month anniversary.

Oh yeah he took those things seriously, he wasn’t the best with words you both knew that so he took his time picking out the best gifts for you so that his u said words could be heard through these gifts.

4+ MONTHS

Marriage. Kids. Football; Bro is legit thinking about how he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. Has your initial In his bio, has your favorite ring on a necklace and everytime he scores/ wins a game he kisses the ring, is literally taking soccer even more seriously because he wants to make sure you live not just comfortably but lavishly, don’t get me wrong he wants you to excel in your career as well, but if you wanna relax and be pampered. You’re good babes <33

[daylite-writes]

“A healers Blunt Teeth” (Pt 2) ft. Capitano x Healer!Reader

(Pt 1 here)

He did take you back to Snezhnaya with him, leaving you alone in a manor. The discomfort you feel at not having received a single letter since he departed was surely not from you loving him or anything. Surely.

cws: very mild yandere, mild cultural insensitivity (on behalf of staff), and misunderstandings.

1.6k words

~~~

You didn’t expect the… luxury.

You suppose you should have.

He was a harbinger after all. When he stepped foot in Snezhnaya—you under his arm, of course—you didn’t get the best first impression. Cold, snowy forests of pine with the ridges of icy mountains lining the horizon. But the deeper you ventured into his home, the more his influence became apparent.

Entire villages greeted the expedition with deep bows and offerings of food and housing. You slept in beds made for the cold, among rabbit fur and goose down.

He never batted an eye, but that wasn’t unusual. Be it dry dirt or luxurious bedspreads, Capitano was content.

You expected him to continue onwards with you, towards the Tsaritsa’s palace, the expedition's final destination you’d heard mentioned a thousand times in his meetings.

Evidently, you were wrong about that part, being as you were lounging in the bay window Capitano’s manor, alone except for a staff of loyalists.

As your… Partner? ‘Boyfriend’ maybe—no, that was far too juvenile. Not master either, he hated that term, and it no longer adequately described the complex relations between you two.

Being Capitano’s someone-of-significance had him deciding to dump you into a remote manor somewhere in Snezhnaya, leaving with a quick kiss and a promise to return home after his meeting with the Tsaritsa.

He dragged you all the way to Snezhnaya, and didn’t even let you go with him to the palace.

Angrily—and yes, it was anger. Not loneliness or longing or any other emotion the young maids would describe it as, accented by dreamy sighs as they theorized about you and his’ beautiful courtship—you tore the page of sheet music from the book propped in front of you.

Music was too hard and it made your fingers hurt.

You’d spent the better parts of two weeks in the manor, and it was boring. You were out of your depths, the maids knowing more about noble and elite life than you ever imagined anyone could know.

One of the maids said it herself not long after your arrival. “You’re nothing like what I imagined Capitano’s fiancé would be. Of course, none of us really know his preferences. But if not a warrior, I’d thought you may have been a noblewoman, knowledgeable about music or literature, or perhaps cooking. I once served a noblewoman who made very exquisite cuisine.”

“We’re not engaged.” You’d said, a bit breathless as she tightened the corset.

The other maids who’d been fluttering about shushed her a bit too aggressively for you to consider it noble.

You’d ignored them, until one of the shier ones spoke up. “If I may ask, my lady… how did you two meet?”

“I was a healer in Natlan working for a group of bandits. He won me by right of combat, and eventually we began… well.” You waved your hand, summing up the obvious physical and emotional relations with proper censorship but no denial. “I’m not quite sure what to call the two of us.”

The maids were stunned, and you remembered that such things as that weren’t normal in other nations. You opened your mouth, hoping to amend their opinions of you, but one of them spoke first—

“Oh so he saved you! How romantic!”

The session devolved into a series of awws. They giggled and tousled your hair as they fixed it up, rambling aloud about the romantic scenario.

It took everything in you to not take it personally. To remember that these were the daughters of affluent families who could not afford to marry off another daughters, but could land them a cushy spot working under a harbinger in a non-combatant role. Who probably spent their youths reading fairy tales instead of fighting or healing the way you had.

You rolled your eyes, letting the girls have their fun. These young women were your only friends in this new place after all. There was little point to complain.

~~~

It was clear Capitano would be coming home soon.

There was a certain buzz among the staff. Tasks that were once laxly carried out only when there was time for it were now being performed rigorously and thoroughly. Floors once mopped were now being scrubbed by servants on their hands and knees. Libraries lightly dusted once or twice a week were practically being done by the hour.

There was a buzz among your hand maids as well. They became very, very particular about your appearance. Every day your hair was to be done up in what you can only assume are traditional northern styles. The soft comfortable outfits you’d taken preference to gently batted aside and replaced with expensive tailored dresses, with beaded bodices and tulle that reached partway down your legs.

Refusing such things also made your hand maids very nervous. A lot of ‘are you sure’-s and ‘but my lady!’-s.

From this, you quickly figured out that he’d be back any day now.

So, when you spotted a horse drawn carriage trotting up the path to your manor from a window, you knew what expectations they had.

Greet him at the door, preferably warmly, probably with a kiss, and then follow him around like a lost puppy.

You rolled your eyes before going back to failing to play the violin.

“Um, miss?” One of your handmaids said softly. “Your… Lord Harbinger Capitano seems to be arriving.”

“Mm.” The violin screeched at you as you clumsily played it.

“I… alright. Miss.”

It wasn’t that you hated Capitano. Or that you didn’t want to see him. You were a bird in a golden cage, yes, but Capitano never bothered to close the door, and you never bothered flying out. It was just—

He didn’t even write to you.

The violin made quite an annoying sound as you pressed a bit too hard on the bow, its wavering screech the perfect sound to accompany the grind of your teeth.

Sure, he was undoubtedly busy, but that didn’t erase the embarrassment you’d experience every time you had to ask if any mail for you—any letters from him—came through, only to be told not so much as a word had come from his lord. Didn’t erase the feeling of being some discarded housewife while your lover galivants around the country without you—

The violin had picked up a sharp, angry tune as you played the song through all your little mistakes, not stopping even as you played incorrect notes or lost your place, you could hardly hear it through the rant in your head.

“I see you’ve picked up the violin.” Him.

Immediately, your song stopped. You hadn’t realized he’d entered, hadn’t realized you missed his voice.

“L-Lord Harbinger!” You maid squeaked, bowing. Capitano must have made some motion to her, as she left the room quickly after.

He stayed silent for a moment, and you stayed turned towards the window. “… why are you upset with me?”

“I’m not.”

“Why are you upset with me.” He repeated again, and you suddenly noticed how much closer he was to you. You didn’t hear the footsteps as he loomed over your shoulder.

“I…”

“Has the accommodations been insufficient? Was the staff unpleasant? I’ll have them dead in an instant if they were who upset you against me.” His hand, gloved, tilted your head back by the chin so you had to look up at him. Into the dark maw of his uniform.

“No Captain…”

“Then why? Why have you refused me the right to be greeted home by my woman? The right to see you as I’ve longed to? There must be something wrong, considering you haven't so much as responded to a single letter-”

“You wrote me?” You said all too quickly when you heard the words come from the man over you. Distantly, you chastised yourself for the almost desperate way you asked it. Like a woman starved for water.

He stilled, putting together the pieces easily. “Ah, so that’s what it is. Yes, I wrote to you many times, my healer.”

“I didn’t receive any.”

The hand that was lifting your face up shifted to the side, idly messing with a lock of your hair before cradling the crux of where your jaw met your neck. “I am realizing that now.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“I did, greatly.”

You paused a moment, the small sparks of spite that once had you melted away partially, leaving you feeling a bit silly. “I…”

“Don’t apologize. This is someone else’s fault, I’ll deal with them later.” He said, moving around you to your front, and kneeling down before you.

The hand cradling your pulse slipped to the back of your neck, lightly pulling you into him. You kissed him through the gaping maw of his mask. It was rough, as though it was the single thing he’d been wanting for weeks. His hand tightened, pulling your hair by the roots to expose your neck. You gasped when you felt his lips on your jaw, traveling down to your throat.

It was a while before he pulled back, satisfied at the aggravated red skin his attention left. Most likely so that the staff could see it and know.

You stared at him, chest rising and falling quickly, but not scared. He seemed happy, or perhaps, at peace, as he stared back.

A polite, quiet knock on the door finally brought his gaze away from you. He spoke, loud and clear, “Yes?”

“Dinner is set for you the Lord and his Lady.”

He rose, standing to his full height before extending a hand to you. “You’ll be joining me I hope?”

“… yes, my lord.” You took it.

~~~~~

The og is pretty far back and i am grappling with the fact i probably should make a masterlist (i dont wannaaa) but i hope ya'll enjoy this <3

[squoosheez]

Movie Night

Choso Kamo x Reader

summary: movie night with Choso but replace movie with 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 and instead of watching movies you get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

pairing: Choso Kamo x GN!Reader

warnings: smut & 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴 choso

tags: smut , sub!choso , dom!reader , begging , handjobs , making out , first time , needy choso , dirty talk

notes: it’s 5:40 am and I can’t sleep and this is not proofread I’m js a freak for subby cho

word count: 2k

The warmth from your blanket and the smell of fresh popcorn almost put you straight to sleep. It was a Saturday night, and Choso had invited you over for movie night. You accepted, obviously, because who would ever turn down that opportunity?

Definitely not you.

You sat a couple inches away from Choso, giving him a decent amount of space. You were snuggled very tightly in a blanket he provided, and you were focused on the movie.

It wasn’t anything too special, just some romantic drama he had found while browsing Netflix. Nothing too crazy had happened yet, but you could tell that the main characters had some “tension” they were going to resolve. And they did.

After a few minutes of them making out, Choso grabbed the remote and paused the movie. You looked over at him curiously. “Why’d you pause it?” you questioned.

“Have you ever done that before?” he spoke, sounding genuinely curious.

The words took you by surprise a little. You had to restrain yourself from laughing at his abruptness. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

He shifted underneath his blanket, trying to sit up a little more. “I was just wondering..” he replied.

“Yeah? Have you?”

He looked down at the remote in his lap, his face growing red. “No.”

It surprised you. He didn’t strike you as the completely inexperienced type. In fact, you thought of him as quite the opposite. Sometimes he just held himself so confidently, it was hard to imagine him any other way.

“Really? That’s shocking.”

“Is it?” he didn’t seem to believe you.

“Well, yeah. I mean, if you want to, I could teach you how?” It was harmless, right? You were just doing him a favor, making sure his future girlfriend had something to work with.

“Seriously?”

You nodded before pulling the blanket off of you. That’s when it actually processed for Choso. His eyes widened and his face grew even hotter. It was just making out. Friends do it all the time. Right?

It wasn’t long before you were sitting on Choso’s lap. Your legs on each side of him, in a straddling position. You could feel his chest moving up and down from his breathing. His heart beating incredibly fast. You found it cute how nervous he was.

You didn’t want to say too much, in fear that it would make him feel even more embarrassed, but you also wanted to reassure him. To begin, you pulled his chin to yours, placing just a soft kiss on his lips before doing anything too crazy.

His eyes fluttered shut, savoring the short kiss and missing your lips as soon as they parted. Luckily, he was greeted with much better the second time. It was more harsh, your mouth slightly to make room for his tongue. As soon as he realized, he allowed his instincts to take over, filling your mouth with his tongue. He grabbed the back of your head, pulling you closer desperately.

When you pulled away to breathe, you saw how beautiful he looked like this. So focused on you and nothing else. His eyes looked heavy, trying to stay open long enough to look at you, straddled on top of him. Just the sight made him want even more.

“You doing okay, Cho?” you spoke, your voice raspy and slightly out of breath.

He nodded slowly, trying to regain his composure, but it was no use. He clenched his fists at his sides, which brought something to your attention.

You grabbed his wrists, placing his hands on your hips. “Right here, okay? Or you can put them on my thighs if you want.”

His breathing intensified at the sudden movement. He felt so close to you. His hands traveled from your hips down to your thighs, squeezing them gently. The action made you let out a soft giggle.

It wasn’t long before he couldn’t wait any longer. His lips found yours once again, bringing you into the harsh sloppy kiss you had indulged in just a moment ago. This time his hands teased your inner thighs, driving your mind crazy. This was just supposed to be a makeout session, but you weren’t opposed to this leading further.

This time, he was the first to pull away. He gasped for air as your hands trailed up and down his chest. “You.. You’re really good at this.”

You giggled at the compliment. “Yeah? Thank you.”

Choso’s breath hitched when he felt your lips attach to his jaw line, leaving a trail of kisses leading to the side of your neck. You sucked a dark purple hickey on his neck, nipping at the irritated skin.

When you looked up, his head was thrown back. His eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was slightly open. He looked fucked out from just a few hickeys. So, you quickly started covering his neck. Any visible skin was a target. He let out soft whimpers when it hurt a little more than expected and fuck it sounded delectable.

“Someone’s enjoying this quite a lot,” you teased, moving his chin down to look at you.

He whined in response, his eyes locked on yours. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all.”

He shuddered, his hips rocking upwards in desperation. It wasn’t voluntary, but you definitely noticed it. Since this was a tutoring session, it was only necessary you gave him a turn.

“You wanna try? Marking me up?” you asked, playing with the hem of his t-shirt.

He didn’t quite know how to respond, he had kind of forgotten that this was so that he knew how to make out with girls in the future. To be honest, he didn’t know if he wanted to make out with anyone else after this.

“Yes, please.” he spoke, his voice laced with desperation.

You leaned your head back, giving him easier access to your neck. It took less than three seconds for him to latch onto your neck. He wasted no time sucking soft hickeys all across your neck. He was so lost in the moment, he was pulling your shirt to find more room to mark up. You’d never seen him like this before. Life changing.

Seeing how eager he was drove you insane. Such a fast learner too. He was so happy to listen to whatever you told him, and he was damn good at it too.

“Yeah..” you breathed out, your voice faltering. “Just like that, Cho. You’re doing.. so good for me.”

Choso's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing your skin. He loved the way your body reacted to his touch, every shudder and soft gasp that escaped your lips, and it encouraged him to keep going.

He was determined to do this right, to do it well. Your praise fueled the fire in his core, and it showed in the way his mouth worked its way across your neck. "More," he muttered, his voice taking on an eager tone. "Give me more spots."

You giggled once more at his eagerness. Unfortunately, you had run out of spots to give him, and now you had to find a way to cover these in the morning.

“I’m covered, Cho.”

Choso couldn't help but let out a pleased little huff as he watched you admire his handiwork. The sight of so many little marks on your skin, caused by his mouth, sent a rush of satisfaction through him.

His breath hitched when your hands found their way to stomach, his muscles instantly tensing. His own hands came to rest on your hips again, his thumbs rubbing against your sides. "All mine," he repeated, his voice a bit huskier than usual.

You smiled, taking his head in your hands again. It seemed to be the end of your lesson, unfortunately.

“Well, there you go. We made out, ta-da!” you smiled, knowing Choso wasn’t anywhere near satisfied. You had gotten him all worked up, just to leave him hanging.

He whined, “are we done?”

“Mm.. we did cover everything necessary for making out. What comes next is a different lesson,” you said slyly.

“Can I maybe have that lesson too?” he asked, his hands coming to cover his face in embarrassment.

You laugh, moving his hands away from his eyes. “Of course you can.”

You pull him into another heated kiss, this time letting your hands roam further down his torso. You rested one on his lower stomach and the other on the obvious bulge in his pants. His breath hitched, breaking your kiss for a moment. His expressions only fueled your motives.

He whined into this kiss, feeling your hand start to move over his bulge. Choso tried to hold back a shudder, but failed miserably. Your words had his heart pounding in his chest, his mind spiraling with a million different thoughts.

He paused to breathe for a moment as your hand continued to palm him slowly, his body growing hotter by the minute. “Tell me that I’m a good boy, I... need to hear you say it.”

His words caught you off guard, in the best way possible. You had this boy in the palm of your hands, literally. And you could probably make him cum in his pants if you wanted to.

“You’re doing so well for me, Cho. Such a good boy for me, hm?” you snapped the elastic on his pants against his waist as a warning before pulling them down to his thighs.

He bit his lip, feeling exposed, even though it was just his boxers. Your hand reached below his waistband once more, taking him into your hand.

He whined quite loudly, his hips bucking up into your hand. You gave him a few slow strokes and it was enough to have him a whimpering mess underneath you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “Keep talking. Please.” His hips bucked up against yours again, seeking any friction he could find.

Choso let out a choked off moan, his head automatically falling back against the couch cushion. The feeling of your hand wrapped around him was driving him insane and he found himself arching his body into your touch.

“Not gonna... last long,” he managed to huff out, his hands still gripping your hips so tightly it was sure to leave marks of their own. “Not if you... keep... doing that.”

Fuck, he was adorable. He was barely gonna last and you were only jerking him off. You could only imagine how long he’d last inside of you. 2 maybe 3 thrusts? He’d be so embarrassed too, but he’d make up for it. He’d probably be so good with his tongue. His huge fingers would fill you up just as well as his cock. Your mind trailed off as you watched him unravel beneath you.

“Yeah? That’s okay, baby. Let go for me. Be my good boy.” you encouraged, continuing to kiss him all over, your hand speeding up.

Chose groaned again, his whole body quivering at the feeling of your strokes. “Fuck, I...” he panted. He loved the way the nickname sounded spilling from your lips and he wanted to hear you praise him even more. Just a little more.

“I can’t... I, ah… I’m gonna…” He was on the verge of falling apart, on the edge of ecstasy. All he needed was one more push.

“Just like that. My good boy, all mine. My pretty Cho.” you knew that was all it was gonna take. By now, you’d completely forgotten how this all started, but all that could fill your ears was a sharp whine that escaped Choso’s mouth as he reached his climax.

You felt his body tense from underneath me, and you could feel the cum dripping down your fingers. “That’s it.. You did so well for me.”

Choso’s mind went blank, the only word that could pass his lips was your name, over and over again.

He could hardly even keep himself upright, his weight leaning completely against the couch. He trembled faintly, his hands still holding on to you as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

“…You got me all… messy.” He choked out, still struggling to catch his breath.

“I’m sorry, baby. You want help getting all cleaned up?” you replied, softly massaging his chest.

He nodded slowly before speaking once more. “Thank you..”

You smiled, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. “You’re welcome, Cho.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

K so I loved your egg and dog, why not next a real kid. The cannibal kids, like the kids adore y/n when ever she comes to town to visit. They do multiple fun activities like makeing flower crowns or just somthing as simple as hopscotch!

(Proves y/n would be a good mom.)

Y/N would be a good mom!! I believe in her!!

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Children in mild danger, Cartoonish antics, Reader wants children, Alastor being possessive, Sad implications

Description: 👆⬆️

Alastor likes taking you to Cannibal Town, he likes that everyone there loves you nearly as much as he does

He likes showing you off and letting Rosie brag about you for him

Because she totally brags about you, not letting Alastor get a word out to say it himself

And the children all listen to Rosie so they quickly turn their attention on you with sparkling eyes and grabby hands

And you are immediately enamored with them too, giving them tight squeezes and gentle pecks on their chubby cheeks

It's adorable that the children have taken such a shine to you, really it is

"Y/N! Y/N! Come play with us!"

"Alright~ Alright~"

Not the littlest one leading you by holding onto your finger

And the way you indulge them just makes his heart melt, watching you play along with their antics

You mend their clothes for them, bandage their boo-boos, bring them snacks so they aren't tempted to gnaw on each other

Or you

Plus it gives him time to chat with Rosie or shop for surprise gifts for you so he doesn't necessarily mind it

Except those kids never seem to run out of energy or get sick of your attention

Sometimes he finds you surrounded by them, all of you snuggled up together and relaxed

Are those flowers in your hair?

Yes, yes they are.

Or you'll seek him out, one child on your shoulders and another in your arms, both asleep

But your husband wants to take you home and get some snuggles with you for himself

And cannibal children are fucking ruthless when it comes to something they want so he has to get creative to get his wife back

"Here~! Have some scissors! Run as fast as you can with them~!"

"ALASTOR!"

"Oh fuck-"

They 100% fight back though, those children are smart and ruthless, quick to realize Alastor is competition

That's part of why he likes the cannibal children so much tbh

They will literally throw him in a well if it means spending five more minutes with you

It becomes a cartoonish war between Alastor and the children, one with little malice but many dangerous antics on both ends

With you in the middle

You even start to play along, picking different sides at random and turning things into a game

It's totally not an excuse to watch your husband play with children and it definitely doesn't make your heart ache

Once Alastor stops to realize how you're looking at him and sees how much warmth your gaze holds then he starts to understand something

Something that makes his heart throb a little but he tucks it away for when you two are alone

Alastor starts to join you in hanging out with the children after that, enjoying the maternal side of you more than he would care to admit

And seeing him act even remotely fatherly is obviously doing things for you so that's a bonus for him too

You two are constantly followed by a gaggle of children now, the two of you looking like duck parents

If you run into any of the overlords then Alastor will pit the kids against them, telling them to get their Aunty/Uncle

Bonus points if its Vox and they take off a piece of him and bring it back to Alastor

They love biting their Uncle Vox~

They even visit you two at the hotel sometimes, all of them storming the building and wreaking havoc until they find your room

Not all of them trying to sneak into bed with you two as silently as possible

Okay no-

He's going to start locking doors now

Go ahead, old man they'll just break them down

Alastor totally doesn't make them Charlie and Vaggie's problem afterwards just so that he can have some peace

More cuddles with his wife please

"Alastor...we should get the children home..."

"Five more minutes, my dear~"

How can you say no to him when he's kissing your neck like that?

Five more minutes

He's amused when you try to explain away the love marks on your neck and shoulders in a PG way

Kids ask the silliest questions, don't they?

You always sigh happily at the end of the day once the kids have gone home, leaning on your husband

You look tired but happy, Alastor committing the look to memory

He catches you staring at the kids fondly and looking at baby clothes a little more often

Maybe you hold a baby for a little too long, voice a little too thick with emotion

It's obvious to him that being around the children makes you happy but also makes you wish for something more

And all he wants is his wife to be happy

So maybe he should have that conversation with you that he's been putting off for awhile

Alastor isn't really a coward, but when it comes to difficult conversations with you, he's definitely reluctant

He doesn't like to see you get worked up and if the conversation goes where he thinks it's going to go then...you're gonna get upset

Waits until the two of you are snuggled up together in bed, his arm wrapped snuggly around you

You're nearly asleep, happily breathing in your husband's scent and lazily stroking his chest

"Y/N...do you want a family with me?"

Now you're wide awake

🥹🥺🥹 literally me after this

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Glad You Came ♡

୨୧ Pairings: boyfriend!hongjoong x chubby!fem!reader

୨୧ Genre: smut/fluff

୨୧ Summary: On the first morning of your romantic beachside vacation, your boyfriend awakens to find you sunbathing by the pool in the tiniest bikini he's ever seen and can't resist showing you exactly what that body of yours makes him want to do to you.

୨୧ Word Count: 1.8k-ish

୨୧ Warnings: unprotected sex, a lil rough sex, male masturbation if you squint, spanking, pervy bf Joong, references to prior & desired oral sex (m & f receiving), low key cum marking, pet names (baby, pretty girl, my love), free use, forced orgasm, body worship, and that's about it darlings

୨୧ A/N: This is a request for @ashleighland ♡ Thank you for dropping some spicy, fun summer vibes into my asks. I hope you like it!

“Baby?” Hongjoong yawns, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His face scrunches adorably as he rustles through the blankets beside him searching for the warmth of your body. One of his favorite things about any vacation is waking up with you in his arms. It doesn’t matter where the two of you are—England, France, Ireland, the moon—he treasures all those tiny sentimental moments that his hectic schedule usually gets in the way of. 

This time the two of you are off in Italy and, with it being your birthday week, he had special plans to wake up first everyday to make you breakfast. He’d even set three alarms to make sure he wouldn't oversleep. At least he thought he did.

“Baby?” he repeats, sitting up to feel around for his phone. After mistaking the remote for it twice and nearly knocking over the lamp, he finally locates it on the nightstand. He tousles his messy hair, brushing it back to squint at the time, “Shit, no, no, no.” Not only did he sleep through his morning alarms, it’s well into the afternoon and you’re nearly late for your lunch reservations. 

Bolting out of bed, Hongjoong hurries around the rustic sunny villa in search of his love. “Baby, where are you?” he shouts, peeking into rooms and turning down hallways. He regrets now that he rented a place this huge but it’s gorgeous, everything you wanted, so it had to be done. He just wishes it came with a map or something.

Making his way to the living room, he spots some of your things by the side door and breathes a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry I overslept. I must’ve been jet lagged. I just…” he begins to explain, his thoughts derailed by what he catches a glimpse of in the corner of his eye.

Turning to face the glass double doors, he sees everything the pictures online told him he would. Clear blue skies hang over a lavish pool area overlooking the nearby beach. The surrounding architecture alone is breathtaking, almost unreal, but what truly has his attention is you.

You’ve been relaxing by the pool all morning and he’s arrived just in time to see you bending over to smooth a fresh layer of sunscreen down your soft thighs. With your plush ass poked in the air like this he can’t quite ignore the way it just eats the tiny bikini you have on.

You stand back up, hips shaking ever so slightly to the beat of the music playing in your headphones, and Hongjoong’s nearly licking the glass at how your curves fit into your bikini. It covers everything it’s supposed to but just barely. One tug at the strings and there’d be nothing there at all. Only your beautiful naked body and his hands massaging the plumpness of your figure. 

As you spread out on one of the loungers, thighs jiggling as you settle in on your belly, Hongjoong feels a slight breeze where he hadn’t before. Glancing down at himself he sees his cock poking out of the hole in his shorts. He’d felt himself getting hard—he always does when he thinks about your body—but he didn’t know you’d gotten to him this much.

Can you blame him though?  You’re just so curvy and soft, spilling out of that bikini like you don’t know how feral it makes him for you. Taking his cock into his hand, he flicks his wrist up and down his pulsing shaft. Maybe you did know what this would do to him. His hand comes to a stop at the tip of his cock, his thumb teasing the head.

Your hips are still rocking to the music as you scroll through your phone. The motion has his cock twitching in his hand, arousal wetting his fingers. He hisses at the relief of stroking his cock once more. It takes the edge off but not enough to satisfy him. He needs something more. He needs you. 

“Well, add that to the list of kinks I didn’t know I had” you say to yourself, devouring the next few lines of smut on your screen. This admittedly isn’t where you expected to find yourself on vacation, sunbathing and reading smut by the pool, but you had to do something to cope with how horny you’ve been all morning.

You’d unfortunately woken up much earlier than your boyfriend did and you weren’t about to shake him out of his sleep to fuck you. Though, now that you think about it, he probably would’ve done it happily. 

On vacation Hongjoong has a strict rule that you aren’t allowed to masturbate. You do it enough when he’s away for work so when you’re together it’s strictly forbidden. He’s the only one allowed to make you come and fuck is he good at getting the job done.

Your brain drifts away from the story on your screen, delighting in memories of the last time you rode his face. The wetness already soaking your bikini bottoms worsens the more you recall those pretty brown eyes staring up at you, his tongue deep enough inside of you to make your legs shake. 

You can almost feel Hongjoong’s arms locked around your thighs, refusing to let you get away until he decides he’s done with you. It has the tiny hairs on your arm standing up and your throat going dry. Reaching off to the side, you blindly feel around for your drink when suddenly it’s placed in your hand. Caught off guard, you turn to see who it is but you’re already pinned to the chair, gentle lips leaning in to kiss your neck.

“Hi, baby” Hongjoong says sweetly, kissing his way down your back. 

You slip your headphones off, giggling at how much it tickles. “Joongie, what are you…” is all you manage before you feel him push into you. All of him, every single inch, is buried inside of you, stretching you out in every possible way. The shock of it leaves you speechless, abandoning everything in your hands to grip the front of the chair. 

“So wet already, baby?” he teases, rolling his hips against you, “What were you doing out here?” 

“I was just, fuuuuck…” you moan, pushing back into him. He’s already deep enough, as deep as he can be, but your body wants more. Hongjoong slaps your ass and the vibrations have you both moaning in pleasure. "Damn, you feel so fucking good. I’ve missed this so much” he confesses, guiding you onto your knees.

He runs his fingers along the ties of your bikini, a light pull being all it takes to do away with the flimsy material. “Me, mmm, too” you whine, arching your back as you rotate your hips in a circle. His palms ride the curves of your sides, reaching around to grab the fluffiest part of your belly. Hongjoong's more than happy to let you take over for now, worshipping your body while you ride his cock.

“That’s it, baby. Use my fucking cock. It’s all yours” he moans, watching his length disappear into your dripping cunt. Each time you rock forward his cock’s more drenched than before, your deprived little pussy too needy to stop making a mess of herself. In the back of your mind you know he loves to see it. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you when he sees those juices trickling from your slit, glinting like gold in the sunlight.

“Aaah, Joongie, needed this so bad” you say, your voice trembling as you angle your hips to work your sweet spot. The lounge chair creaks beneath you as your movements grow more frantic. More desperate.

“Oh, really?” he smiles, tilting his head to see the pretty faces you make. Your pussy glides along him like silk, every dip into you making his head spin. He wants to hold back a little longer, let you set the pace, but a girl like you is much too gorgeous not to get her brains fucked out. He grabs you by the arms, pinning your wrists behind your back, and thrusts into you as hard as he can. “Look at that body, shaking around my cock. Tell me how much you need it.”

“I need it so bad!” you cry, eyelashes wet and fluttering, “Needed, mmph, needed you to fuck me like this.” Surrendering yourself to him, you steady your knees and let him completely wreck you. There isn’t a single thrust of his cock that doesn’t have you whining and moaning, begging him for more.

Hongjoong slaps your ass harder this time, loving the way it makes you squeal. “I feel that pussy quivering for me. I know you wanna fucking come.” Snatching your arms away, you grab onto the front of the chair, tilting yourself away. You shake your head, not wanting to give up this feeling so soon, “Mmm not ready, Joongie. Wanna feel you more.” 

“Aww, my love, you’re so cute” Hongjoong pouts, lightly petting your back, “But I don’t care.” 

And just like that he’s fucking you so hard you feel it in every part of you. Your vision’s spotted with little technicolor dots, your lips parted in ecstasy. “Don’t hold back, baby. Show me you need it” he whispers like a snake charmer coaxing your body to do as he wishes. “Come for, mmmhhh, come for me. Just like that, fuck.”

Your legs give out from under you as you let yourself go, your body reduced to nothing but tremors, juices flowing around his cock. Hongjoong doesn’t let up, shifting his position to hit your g spot even as your body weakens. He sees you reach up to your mouth, nibbling at your finger as your broken moans escape supple lips, and wants that to be him so badly. In your pussy, in your mouth, anywhere he can feel you, he wants it.

Against his best efforts, his thrusts grow sloppy, the tightness in the pit of his stomach snapping. He pulls out, rocking into his own hand as he spills down the back of your thighs, droplets of come leaking onto the chair. “God, that was…” he pants, sitting at the foot of the chair, chasing the air that eludes him.

Rolling onto your back you see your boyfriend with your bikini top draped over him as if he’s wearing it. His expression is criminally cute for a man who just broke your back like a glowstick.

“I look cute in it, yeah?”

You kick your feet up on his lap, laughing to yourself, “Hot as fuck. I’d definitely ask for your number.”

Hongjoong crawls on top of you, kissing you so deeply and lovingly that by the time he pulls away you’re lightheaded. “I love you” he says, still sporting your bikini top.

You look down at it and then back up at this handsome man who utterly adores you. “I love you too, Joongie. Now give me my top back.”

[ssahotchnerr]

Hiya Katie! How about domestic Aaron pampering her when he find out she's pregnant and jack makes her a get well soon card because he thinks she's sick but she tells him he's going to be a big brother and jacks ecstatic and Aaron is just like all smiley and happy about being a father again and maybe hoping for a girl because hotch is such a girl dad like 🤭🤭 also I love your work so much! It makes my day! Your an amazing writer ❤

newest addition

thank you so much & ughh that's the sweetest <3333 cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, pregnancy, reference to vomiting wc; 1.1k

"buddy, what are you doing?"

you've been awake for awhile now, unwilling to part from the comfort of bed. your eyes are still closed, and in curiosity, you keep them that way.

"i made mom a get-well card." jack's voice is closer than aaron's, and you can hear him shuffling at your bedside. you hear a soft crinkle of a paper, a quick stagger of your water glass, as he sets the paper against it. "i heard her throwing up this morning, so i wanted to make her feel better."

morning sickness has been your worst enemy so far during your pregnancy. it was what made you question if you were pregnant at the very start, and has been frequently reoccurring throughout your first trimester. it feels like the majority of your time these days is either spent in the bathroom, or in bed absolutely overwhelmed with nausea.

if permitting - when you're leant over the toilet, aaron is always seated on the bathroom floor beside you; rubbing your back in soothing circles, holding back your hair when necessary, whispering an apology or words of encouragement. you insist he doesn't need to be present, the sounds and visual of you retching surely disgusting nonetheless. but he insists he remain put, joking it's rather romantic actually, there's no place he'd rather be.

but in all seriousness, he claims it's the least he could do, and wants to support you in all and any way he can.

even this morning at promptly five am, you had made a mad dash to the bathroom. aaron, never the light sleeper, accompanied you in the bathroom just as quickly as you had entered it.

his tenderness doesn't stop there; he'll grab your ginger ale, crackers, pretzels, anything to relieve your queasiness and keep it at bay. he even joked (but did consider) with the idea of buying you a mini fridge to keep in your bedroom - for even easier access. or if he's not home, you don't have to search far.

the two of you have known about your new littlest addition for a few weeks, and couldn't be more ecstatic. jack - not just yet. but you figure that's a case that will soon be remedied.

you can hear a soft chuckle escape from aaron, and you can easily picture the smile you know is on his face. "that's real nice of you bud, i know she'll love it. but in the meantime, c'mon, let's let her sleep, yeah?"

you hear jack's sock-covered feet pad away on the carpet, the sound of the door softly shutting following soon after.

you fall back asleep without meaning to, exhaustion reigning over your body. but an hour later, and after tearfully looking at jack's card, his scribbly print wishing you well and a doodle of yourself and him, you find the two of them in the living room; jack's on the carpet, busied by legos, while aaron's on the couch, watching some show on the television.

aaron notices you before jack does, raising an eyebrow slightly in question - silently seeking confirmation on how you are feeling now.

you give him a nod, and he seems to relax more against the back of the couch. as you join him, jack's eyes lift.

"c'mere," you pat the empty spot between you and aaron, and soon enough, jack's sandwiched between the two of you, curled more so into your side. aaron grabs the remote, clicking off the tv.

"thank you so much for the card." you place a kiss on the top of his head, your arm going around his shoulders and giving him a squeeze. "you're the sweetest, have i ever told you that?"

"all the time." jack says, his emphasis making you laugh gently. but concern quickly fills his face, his eyes a bit troubled. "are you sick?"

you shake your head, brushing some hair away from his forehead. "nope."

the concern is now replaced by confusion. his eyebrows furrow, making him look extremely like this father. "why'd you throwed up?"

"well..." you exchange a look with aaron, glancing at him overtop jack's head. there's a smile tugging at his lips, a small sparkle in his eyes. "sometimes... it happens. when you're going to have a baby."

it takes jack a few seconds to internalize what you've just told him. but his head whips up to look at you, and then aaron, and then back to you. his eyes are wide. "a baby?"

"a baby." aaron confirms, arching an eyebrow in question. "any objections to being a big brother?"

"no!" jack vigorously shakes his head, his face lighting up even more, grinning from ear to ear. "really?!"

you grin right back. "really."

jack nearly jumps right onto you in excitement, aaron's hands flying out to catch him so the fall isn't as forceful. his gentle warning of careful, is barely audible over jack's next inquiry.

"is it a girl?!"

"we don't know yet," aaron answers, his voice catching slightly which prompts your gaze to switch to him. there's tears threatening his eyes, pooling at his waterline. you swear, you've never seen him so happy.

you help him, adding on, "we'll find out in a few more weeks."

jack nods at this information, still buzzing. "i really really want a sister. but a brother would be super cool too."

aaron nudges jack with his elbow, lips quirking into a smile. "i really, really do too. but more than anything, a healthy baby is what we want."

"a healthy baby." jack agrees, with a small nod of his head. his arms wrap around yourself, burying his face slightly into your abdomen. "that's so cool! i can't wait."

now it's your turn to look at aaron, tearful.

somehow, now that jack is aware, your family feels more complete. you and aaron have talked about growing your family, have discussed it with jack, for as long as you can remember - what it'll be like, having another little hotchner running around and causing havoc, potential names have been tossed around, jack wants to teach his expertises, legos and soccer. you’re eager to see a newborn in aaron’s arms, the new-dad-to-another glow present in him. at the time, it was distant; all memories to hopefully be made someday.

that time, that someday, has finally arrived. and if jack's reaction is anything to go by, you just know, the two of them will the absolute best of friends.

you can’t wait, either.