#i drew him... backwards............. but by the time i realized i was like fuck it

[swampthingking]

can’t study for my test because i’m having brain rot about neil accidentally getting super drunk and stumbling up to aaron like “andrew???” and aaron is like “wrong one” and neil is like “andrew.” and aaron is like “???? are you stupid” and neil goes to look for andrew but he stumbles into the table, and aaron has to catch him or he will get trampled for fucks sake, and neil just collapses into him in a drunk cuddly heap. and aaron is like “neil. you need to stand up” and neil is like “i am” and aaron is like “that’s because i’m holding you up” and they get neil to stand but neil kinda just flops into aaron’s arms again. and neil is like “i don’t hate you, i don’t, but it’s okay if you hate me” and aaron is like “ugh, ew are you really an emotional drunk???” and neil, to aaron’s horror, looks at him with tears in his eyes because you know when you’re too drunk and you kind of just get a little scared and you need help???? ya. and aaron is like … ok. and kinda holds neil until andrew comes back from the bar with more drinks. and he sees neil basically asleep on aaron’s shoulder, and aaron looking uncomfortable but accepting, so he kinda raises an eyebrow, an okay? and aaron nods and is just patting neil on his back

and tomorrow they’ll wake up and neil will toddle downstairs with his hand against his temple and aaron will have advil ready for him, and he’ll say “you’re annoying and you don’t know when to shut your mouth or mind your own business, but i don’t hate you” and the thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for staying goes unsaid but yeah

and that’s how aaron and neil became kind of friends

edit: vomited out a one shot for y’all (this will prob become a 5+1)

Aaron swirled his drink a few times, listening to the ice clacking against the glass.

Eden’s was packed tonight, courtesy of it being the end of the school year. College students and the regular patrons flocked to the bar, the dance floor, and all of the tables, leaving Aaron to reserve a high-top table, and his legs to dangle from the stool.

“Drew?”

Aaron ignored him in favor of the twinkling sound the ice makes in his glass. He’d already taken shots, danced, had another drink, danced again, and now Aaron’s body was heavy with alcohol and exhaustion.

“Drew,” Neil said again.

Aaron looked around their table and didn’t see Andrew. He remembered Andrew getting up and walking to the bar with their empty tray. Aaron found him a few seconds later, hands in his pockets at the bar. That and Neil, staring up at him, looking uneasy.

Before Aaron could tell Neil to get out of his face, Neil was speaking.

“Are you’nt having fun?” Neil frowned, blinking sleepy, hooded eyes at him. He leaned closer to study Aaron’s face.

“What are you doing?” Aaron grumbled, pushing Neil’s face away.

Aaron hadn’t even pushed him hard, he more removed Neil from his space rather than pushed him, but Neil wobbled like his world had tilted out of orbit. Aaron realized, quickly, that Neil was going to fall backwards. He grabbed two fistfuls of Neil’s shirt and pulled him forwards. Neil’s head lulled on his shoulders with the force, his chin hitting his chest then righting itself.

Aaron’s stomach lurched, sick with the thought that someone had put something in one of Neil’s drinks, as he would for anyone, but thankfully he’s never been put in that situation. Neil’s eyes were hooded, his face flushed. Aaron snapped once at Neil’s ear, and Neil recoiled immediately.

“Does your head hurt or anything?” Aaron asked. Neil shook his head, frowning.

“Are you dizzy? Follow my finger.” Aaron pushes Neil back so he can see his face, keeping one hand on Neil’s shoulder to hold him up. Neil follows Aaron’s finger as it moves back and forth, albeit a little labored, but not as if he’d been roofied. Aaron declares that Neil’s reaction times and responses are fine, but he still pulls the front of his shirt up and checks his belt, the button of his pants.

“What—?” Neil slapped a hand on his abdomen, stopping his shirt from being lifted any higher. Aaron didn’t need to see anything but his pants, but it was reassuring that Neil still had inhibitions.

His clothes were fine. His belt was still done, zipper up. No one had tried anything. Aaron relaxed.

“Sorry,” Aaron said. “Sorry, I just needed to…”

While racking his mind back to why Neil is this drunk, Aaron remembered Neil taking shots with Aaron, Nicky, and Kevin. Four shots. He’d seen Neil sip on another drink like the idiot had the tolerance for alcohol that the rest of them had.

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Aaron said and released Neil. Neil attempted to step back, his hands raised in surrender.

“No?” Neil asked warily. Even drunk as fuck, he still respected boundaries. Andrew’s boundaries specifically, as it still hadn’t registered that he wasn’t talking to the right twin.

“I’m not Andrew,” Aaron said.

“Where’s Andrew?” Neil asked, turning his head pathetically in search. Aaron only had a good view of Andrew because they were seated at a high-top. Over the throng of taller people coupled with strobing lights, Neil’s view was obstructed.

“At the bar,” Aaron nodded in that direction.

Neil turned towards the bar. Well, he attempted to. He pivoted, lost his balance, and toppled into the table. He tried to right himself and started to fall to the other side. Aaron caught Neil before he could bust his shit and get trampled.

“Jesus Christ, Josten,” Aaron spat, righting Neil with hands on his biceps. Neil slapped a hand on the table and leaned his weight on it. The table quaked under such abuse, but held.

Neil turned slowly, grappling against the table as if he was standing in one of those spinning fair rides. In his excursion to simply spin 180°, his hand slipped off the edge of the table as he faced Aaron once again. He reached for the table, missed, reached for it again, missed, said, “Motherfucker,” under his breath, and finally gripped onto the edge. His eyes locked on Aaron’s again, and Neil’s useless hand landed on Aaron’s shoulder.

“Andrew,” Neil said. Aaron didn’t know if it was more a request or if it was just not registering.

“Wrong,” Aaron said, tense under Neil’s hand, but he didn’t push him off. He’d rather hold Neil up than peel him off the floor. “Aaron.”

“‘m very drunk,” Neil said, looking up pleadingly at Aaron as if he had a magical cure to shitfacedness, and all Neil had to do for it was look a little scared. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Aaron asked.

“I’m drunk.”

Aaron snorted. “That’s kind of the point when you’re at a bar.”

“But,” Neil said, taking a labored breath, “I’m…too drunk.”

This was beginning to feel exceedingly similar to speaking to a child. Aaron was annoyed, but not completely heartless, unlike the narrative of Aaron Neil had likely concocted. “It’s okay, Neil,” Aaron said. “You should sit down.”

Neil promptly sat as if there was a chair under him, but there was not. Aaron, still holding Neil vertical, got pulled out of his chair with the momentum. To avoid toppling to the ground—which did not get mopped as often as it should—Aaron planted his feet on the floor and hauled Neil up by his armpits.

“Help,” Neil murmured. His arms dropped to his sides as he yielded his dead weight to Aaron.

“Stand up,” Aaron grunted, readjusting to wrap an arm around Neil’s back. One of Neil’s arms flopped over Aaron’s shoulder.

“I am,” Neil complained.

“No, you are not.”

“I am.”

“Neil,” Aaron said through clenched teeth, “I am holding you up. You need to lock your knees.”

“Oh,” Neil said. He looked at his feet as if he needed to check they were on the ground.

To be fair, Neil did lock his knees, but he also leaned all of his upper body on Aaron, arms still hanging limply at his sides. He tucked his head into Aaron’s neck with, what seemed, every intention to make a home there for the night.

“Neil,” Aaron said, frozen against the hair tickling his cheek. “God dammit.”

“And…ron,” Neil spoke against his shoulder.

“Yes,” Aaron said sarcastically. “That’s me.”

“Can I j’stay here?” Neil slurred.

From what Aaron had seen of Neil’s dynamic with his brother, he knew Neil would get off if he said no. He could place Neil into a stool or pull up a chair with a back so he wouldn’t fall out and concuss himself. He could shove Neil off and make him fend for himself. He could pawn him off to Andrew.

At the moment, those other options seemed like far too much work.

That, or maybe it was the med student in him, the intrinsic urge to heal and help and nurture that smarted at the thought of pushing Neil off.

Aaron didn’t push him off when Neil readjusted and tucked an arm into his chest, the other gripping Aaron for stability. He didn’t when Neil asked again, a quiet, “Aaron.”

“Okay,” Aaron conceded. He rubbed a hand up and down Neil’s back placatingly, but also because Neil seemed like he needed it. And he came to Aaron for it. Well, he came to Andrew and got Aaron. But he didn’t push Aaron off, and Aaron hasn’t done the same.

And they just…stood like that. For what seemed like a long time, but it probably was only a few minutes before Neil spoke again.

“Aaron,” Neil said.

Aaron hummed in response.

“I don’ hate you.”

“What?” Aaron asked. “What the fuck are you talking about, Neil?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“What?” Aaron said again.

“I don’wanna fight.” Neil lets out a colossal breath.

“We haven’t fought in a long time,” Aaron says, his idea of agreement. Acceptance.

Neil was quiet, because it was true. Neil seemed content to lay in Aaron’s arms, and Aaron didn’t have another stool next to him. He sure as shit wasn’t giving his up for Neil, but Neil was genuinely so unsteady on his feet that Aaron couldn’t let him go.

He trembled a bit, and Aaron was almost amused that after everything Neil had been through, being a little too drunk is what finally did it for him.

But Aaron had felt that way before. Inebriated and scared in a crowded room of strangers. Neil, however, has people he knows. How can Aaron be upset at Neil for wanting the comfort that he also craved? How can he be upset that Neil feels safe enough with Andrew to ask for help? That his brother finally feels safe with someone too?

“Aaron,” Neil said.

“What,” Aaron said.

“It’s okay if you hate me.”

“Oh God,” Aaron groaned, “Ew. Are you really an emotional drunk?”

Neil pulled back and, to Aaron’s horror, there were actual tears in his eyes. His lip trembled as he bit it, holding the tears in. Aaron hated how much of himself he was seeing in Neil tonight. The harrowing fact that maybe they are quite similar.

“Oh God,” Aaron said again, mortified. He grabbed the back of Neil’s head and shoved it back into his shoulder, effectively hiding Neil’s teary face.

He cast a desperate look to Andrew, who was finally on his way back to the table. He patted Neil on the shoulder, like one would burp a baby when they have no idea how to do so.

“Andrew.”

Andrew didn’t need prompting to look. His eyes were trained on Neil and Aaron from the moment he turned around. By the nonchalance of his movements and his lack of alarm, Aaron guessed he had been watching their interaction.

Andrew set the tray down on the table and cast a significant look between them, settling on Neil’s intoxicated form keeled over on Aaron’s shoulder.

Andrew raises one eyebrow, a silent question, an okay?

Aaron finds himself nodding, and unsure why. All he knows right now, a few drinks in, is that he doesn’t hate this. And he doesn’t hate that Neil doesn’t hate him.

-

The smell of coffee set Neil’s feet moving like a Pavlovian response. He was half awake already with a pounding headache, like his eyeballs were beating his closed lids to death.

Neil toddles down the stairs with his eyes closed, a hand pressed hard to his temple, stabilizing his brain.

Aaron was standing at the counter already, facing the sputtering coffee pot. His arms were crossed, hair ruffled from sleep. At the sound of footsteps behind him, he turned.

The memories from last night played past Neil’s mind like a sped-up movie. He grimaced in embarrassment, and felt a little sick at how drunk he was. How stupid he was, to drink that much. He should have known his tolerance isn’t matched with the rest of them. He could have gotten hurt, could have said something—

Fuck.

“Fuck,” Neil said, covering his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Aaron said. He turned back to the coffee, though his posture was rigid.

Neil grabbed a glass of water. He noticed Aaron watching from the corner of his eye, but Neil chose to ignore him, figuring that’s best. He sat on the counter with his water, sipping it slowly while he and Aaron waited for the coffee to finish brewing.

The silence was thick, but they were both too stubborn to leave the kitchen. Usually, they preferred to wait and pretend the other wasn’t there.

That’s what Neil thought, at least. After a painful few minutes, Aaron huffed and grabbed the bottle of Advil from the drawer next to the sink. He shook two pills out and sat them next to Neil.

Neil stared at them until Aaron cast a pointed look at the pills, then physically gestured to them with raised brows. Neil took them while Aaron watched.

The coffee pot beeped. Aaron made a split second decision, grabbing two mugs and pouring coffee into them. He slid Neil’s across the counter. It sloshed over the side, but Aaron wasn’t capable of caring at the moment. His mind was busy, and he knew Neil had noticed his lack of eye contact; the analytical fuck.

“Look,” Aaron said. He did not look at Neil to say it. “You’re annoying, and you never know when to shut your mouth or mind your business. Most of the time, I’m convinced you have a death wish, and a lot of the time I find myself resenting you. You complicated our lives, put us all in danger, didn’t give a shit.”

Neil’s chest hurt. He didn’t know if it was anger or guilt. Aaron started talking again before he could figure it out.

“But I don’t hate you. I can’t, really. I can’t even fault you for the shitty things you did, because it all worked out.” Aaron glanced quickly at Neil, looked away. His cheeks were red.

The thank you for helping repair my relationship with my brother and thank you for testifying and thank you for being good to Andrew went unsaid, but Aaron hoped Neil wasn’t obtuse enough to force him to say it out loud.

Neil must have understood, because he nodded. Aaron figured that was as close to a reconciliation they were going to have, so he leaned against the counter and pretended everything was normal.

For the first time, they drank their coffee in silence without animosity orchestrating it.

Neil’s mug was half empty when Andrew joined them. He paused in the doorway, squinty eyed and mussed, looking between the two. Neil on the counter, Aaron leaning against it. Their silence, but lack of tension.

“This is weird,” Andrew finally said, his voice gravely from sleep.

“Yeah,” Neil and Aaron said simultaneously.

Neil glanced over his mug at Aaron, the corner of his mouth twitching. Aaron regarded it, but looked away, because something like contentment had made its way onto Andrew’s face.

Aaron smiled at that instead.

[redflagshipwriter]

check yes to go on a date w a dead guy ch 4 progress

next chapter here

(masterpost with this story here)

It took a minute for Jason to recover from that realization. He kept the anger he felt off his face. Danny didn’t seem upset about dying young, but that didn’t mean much. It wasn’t an appropriate topic to prod about on a first meeting. He’d get there eventually.

Jason stilled. Ah, shit, he still didn’t have a plan. Just eating together was too short and too boring. He needed to have something better than that.

Fuck, what were they going to do next? 

Jason strained for ideas. What was a good date? Normally, he'd know more about a person before they hung out romantically. 

Well. Actually, normally he hung out platonically with someone a lot before he started to feel interest in them. This was all kinds of backwards: but he didn't want it to end yet. 

“So, uh, what do you like to do?” Jason asked. Masterful. So smooth.

Danny scrunched up his nose. “Lately my afterlife sucks,” he groused. “I am drowning in paperwork and busy stuff.” He slumped over. “I miss being in high school,” Danny sighed. He drew his knees in and rested his elbows on them, then squished his cheeks with his palms. “I guess I used to just hang out, you know?” He shrugged. “Played a lot of video games. I miss that.” 

“Of course,” Jason said, despite never having hung out and played video games in high school. He'd been an overscheduled nerd in junior high school and then been too dead for high school. “That sounds fun. Wanna go back to mine and play something later?”

Danny lit up, blue eyes sparkling in the fading light. “Yes! That would be great.” He straightened his legs and kicked his heels against the side of the building. “Wait, can we do the whole grungy high school hangout thing with pop and chips and dip and pizza and stuff?”

He almost said “we literally just ate”, but what the hell. “We'll hit the store next,” Jason said. He couldn't say no to that face. Look at ‘em. He was so excited.

'Ugh, god. Danny died in high school,’’ Jason realized. He'd already known Danny died young but it still stuck in his stomach like a rock. 'No wonder he misses what he did then. He's interacting with the physical world now but if he died, he probably went to like, dead land immediately.’

But, uh. Video games. He could do that. He kept up a conversation as his mind churned, asking Danny what kind of games he liked.

The thing was, Jason didn't really play video games. He had a console at his place and if he was hanging out with Roy or Dick there, they'd bring a game over. He owned like, two games. 

He considered popping by the store and just buying something. But that would be weird and intense. He'd probably freak Danny out if he went and dropped money on a game just to play with him. 

Ok. Well. He'd get someone to drop off games before he and Danny could get back to the apartment. Jason sneakily got out his phone and strategized. 

Steph? No. Terrible. He couldn't let that girl know he had a date until the poor bastard really liked him for sure. She'd either chase Danny off or somehow orchestrate the two of them getting engaged. 

Tim? God, no. He'd definitely own a lot of games but they'd all be for the PC, and he'd hang around and smirk about Jason meeting up with Danny.

Dick? Too far away, and way too smug. He'd take it as an opportunity to tease.

Oh, wait. He had it. Jason opened up a message to Duke and sent out a quick “I want to bribe you. Homemade pizza? Artichoke dip? Fried oysters???” 

“Did you take a life?????” Duke shot back. Then, “pizza! What do you need?” 

“Get to my place with a bunch of video games that'll work on my tv in less than an hour and I'll make whatever you want.” 

The three dots indicating typing popped up. They stayed there for a weirdly long time. Then, Duke said, “Can I stay and hang out? 🥺”

Adorable little bastard. Jason typed out NO and then hesitated, feeling kinda bad.

“Who's that?” Danny prompted. 

Ah, shit, he was being rude. Jason flushed. “Asking a little brother to bring over a game,” he admitted. “He wants to stay.” 

Danny laughed. “That's adorable,” he announced. “It's fine by me. Lots of games are better with more people, anyway.” 

Well. If that was the case, Jason was fine with it. He sent Duke an OK and then put his phone away before the inevitable “I AM THE FAVORITE SIBLING” fireworks started. 

[sycamoregirlsworld]

I Can See You- L. Castellan

“what would you do if i went to touch you now?” -Taylor Swift

Luke x Fem! reader

slightly mature? idk

Early morning training wasn’t something many campers enjoyed doing.

Most of the kids at camp would much prefer staying in their cabins until the very last minute. Wrapped in their covers until they just had to go to training.

Luke and (Y/n) we’re not those people. Well— it was more like they couldn’t be those people.

Their sparring sometimes got a bit… competitive. Too many campers had complained about it, so the pair decided that they would start to spar early in the morning.

It’s not like they were complaining. Being alone provided a better environment for them.

“Gods, Luke.” (Y/n) breathed out as she was forced onto defense, blocking his jabs with her twin swords.

Sweat glistened on their foreheads as they clashed blades, the metallic echoes filling the air. Luke's brown eyes never left (Y/n)’s form, enamored with the way she fought.

While his fighting style was quick and agressive, she fought gracefully and her moves were calculated.

“C’mon sweetheart, is this all you’ve got?” Luke teased as he attempted to strike her arm.

“Fuck off, Luke.” She grunted and parried his strike.

She had always been a bit too competitive, and it got even worse when it came to Luke.

He winked before swinging his sword towards her, the steel side of backbiter unknowingly facing her.

Catching the silver gleam of the steel, (Y/n) quickly dropped and rolled under his legs.

“Steel side is out, stupid.” She huffed and kicked the back of his knees.

Luke grunted as he stumbled forward. He caught his balance and whipped around to glare at her.

“That was a cheap move, babe.” He breathed out.

Before she could blink, Luke had thrusted his sword out (this time making sure the steel was not facing her) effectively catching her off guard.

(Y/N) stumbled backward, her swords falling out of her hands. Her heart pounding, and not just from the shock of the move but also from the Luke way look was looking at her.

She found herself on the ground, the force the the disarm sending her sprawling. Luke crouched next to her, his eyes now a mix of pride and something deeper.

Unable to break eye contact, Luke lifted (Y/N)'s chin with the tip of his sword, their faces inches apart. (Y/N) bit her lip as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and her breathing unsteady.

The cold metal of his sword should’ve made her scared, if he moved it a bit it could’ve pierced her skin, but instead all (Y/N) could think about was the fact that if she moved her face just a bit her lips would’ve been on his…

The tension hung thick in the air, their faces were both flushed from their sweat and close proximity.

"I could have defeated you," (Y/N) teased, her voice a mix of challenge and vulnerability.

Luke's lips curved into a half-smile, "Maybe, but where's the fun in that?"

His hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back slightly.

“You look hot like this.” He mumbled, his sword still under her chin.

(Y/n) averted her gaze from him, her face burning brighter.

“You’re such a perv.” She chewed at her bottom lip.

Luke nudged her chin with his sword softly. “Look at me, pretty girl.” He pouted playfully.

Luke discarded his sword with a clatter, his urgency evident as he pulled (Y/n) onto his lap, their lips colliding in a fervent, heated kiss.

With one hand tangled in her hair and the other gripping her waist possessively, he drew her closer, igniting an ache within her. (Y/n) gasped softly, before surrendering to the kiss.

She threaded her fingers through his tousled brown locks and tugged softly, eliciting a soft moan from him.

Luke's kiss was rough, and the lingering scent of his sweat heightened her desire.

With a yearning for more, she instinctively began to move against him, seeking the friction she so desperately craved— until a sudden realization pulled her back to reality.

"Luke—" Her voice faltered as their eyes met, his pretty, brown eyes were half-lidded and intoxicated with desire. His tousled hair and flushed cheeks, saliva-slicked lips only fueled her longing. "We can't... we're still on the training grounds..." She hesitated, torn between restraint and the burning need coursing through her veins.

"So what?" Luke's husky voice sent shivers down her spine as his hands began to explore beneath her shirt, his touch setting her ablaze with desire. “It’s still early.”

Glancing around, she considered their surroundings. It was early, and the ache between her legs had gone unattended for weeks…

"Fuck it," she muttered, her resolve crumbling as she pushed Luke down, surrendering to the intoxicating allure of their forbidden passion.

This was why they trained early.

[yovrnewromantic]

THE LINE—

pairings: steve harrington x henderson!reader

1 — part 2 coming soon…

words: 3.6k

Summary: You realize the line between love and hate is very thin as you babysit and monster hunt alongside Steve Harrington.

Leaning pathetically against your locker, you banged your head against the metal, tugging on the end of your cheerleading skirt that got caught in the door when you slammed it shut. It’s your fault really, you were so happy to get it open for once. Of course, it had to be too good to be true.

“Need some help with that?”

Your lips swerved into a smile at the familiar voice, leaning away from your locker to look at one of your favorite girls.

“Yes, Nancy. Please!” you pleaded, laughing as the girl stepped forward, easily opening your locker door, not even needing to ask the combination from the amount of times she’s had to open it.

Nancy Wheeler smiled smugly when your locker opened, releasing you and your skirt.

Nancy had been one of your best friends since you moved to Hawkins along with Chrissy Cunningham and Heather Holloway. At twelve years old, you were anxious, but to your surprise, extremely charismatic. You found friends like wildflowers, something you loved, but Nancy was one of the best. She was like a rose, beautiful and smart, something that drew you to her in the first place.

“My savior! How could I ever repay you?” you joked, mocking a princess before laughing at your own joke, tugging your books tighter to your hip.

Nancy grimaced. “Well,” she started, and your brows furrowed, making you feel uneasy, “Firstly, by not being too mad…”

Nancy shoved a note in your face. You squinted reading the words that alert you that King fucking Steve was waiting for your best friend in the bathroom, wanting to make out. Gross.

“Ew,” you stated, playful smile turning into a pout. Your shoulders slumped, concern kicking in rather than disgust. “Harrington? Really, Nance? You could do so, so much better.”

To you, Steve Harrington was the worst person at Hawkins high. A real player who had absolutely no consideration for anyone’s feeling but his own and his stupid little posse. Generally a piece of shit.

“You owe me,” she mutters, shrugging her shoulder to try to rid her mind of what you were implying, what she had already been anxious about.

“I just think it’s a bad idea,” you say softly, trying not to hurt the poor girls feelings, but really you were just trying to help.

“And why’s that?” she asks, on the defensive.

You shake your head, holding yourself back from rolling your eyes. “He’s a bad idea,” you state simply. “He treats girls like shit and you know better to accept that.”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know that he dumped Charlotte after he had sex with her,” you offered, looking at her with a raised brow. Nancy rolls her eyes.

“Well, that’s Charlotte. And I’m going to see him,” she announces, a little like she’s singing.

Sighing disappointedly, the bell rings in your ears. Great, you’re late.

You give Nancy a look already walking backwards towards your first period. “Make good decisions. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“You wouldn’t go out with him the first place!” she calls back, looking at you with a playful expression.

“Exactly.” You smile, finally turning around and heading to your class. When you fully turn, your smile disappears.

Something about Steve makes you anxious, fills your body with unease whenever you two make eye contact when your both at your lockers. You hate the way he smiles smugly at you. And you hate that he’s going after another one of your friends, the fear of her getting hurt makes your stomach ache.

This time, if he hurts her, you hurt him.

And that’s exactly what happened.

You were on your evening walk, frowning at the missing poster you see of Will Byers, your little brother’s best friend and Johnathan Byers, one of your best friends, brother. It’s a saddening sight, especially since the young boy’s funeral. Absolutely heartbreaking.

Frustration is throbbing through your body. You feel helpless, unable to find the boy despite having helped put up posters and searched through the woods countlessly.

You were also angry with yourself for allowing your brother out of the house when you heard the news, letting him and his friends set out in search for him themselves because your heart ached looking into your brother’s teary eyes as he begged you not to tell mom that you caught him sneaking out.

It was stupid, that you told him to keep his walking on him, stay with his friends, and to stay safe or you’d fucking kill him. You’re a shitty sister.

You were an idiot. An idiot people pleaser who never knew when to say no to her friends and family. It was stupid that when your empathetic heart feels their pain you resort to the worse stress reliever, and contradictory to your guilty conscience, violence.

“Harrington, you better get your ass down from that ladder right now!”

You saw him from a mile away, the words spray painted on the movie theatre that you would always take your brother and his friends. The only thing you could make out of it was that Steve fucking Harrington was caught defaminating one of your best friend’s names while vandalizing the cinema.

Steve’s eyes went wide at the sight of you, the beautiful girl who ignored and criticized his every move. His ex-girlfriends best friend. His heart raced at your angry expression. His cheeks probably got a little red too.

“Henderson, what the hell are you doing here?” he asked, sponge pausing its movement to look down at you. Steve had completely forgotten what it looked like had happened, oblivious to everything else around him, his entire focus on you. His fake innocence only made you angrier.

Ignoring his question, you fumed, “Get your ass down or I’m pushing you off this damn ladder!”

Steve’s eyes widened as he muttered curses under his breath, quickly climbing down from the ladder. You pretended that seeing his face bloody and bruised didn’t make your stomach ache.

“Jesus, what your pro—,” You shoved him, and he stumbled back, arms stretched out as his back hits the ladder, “blem!”

“You wrote this? You called Nancy a slut?!”

You pushed him again, and he stumbled again, still looking at you like you’re crazy. He caught your wrists when you went to push him again.

Your hands were held at his chest, pulling you into his chest despite how you try to plant your feet, to stay away from him. Steve still has an bizzare look on his face as he looks down at you, cheeks pink and he’s slightly out of breathe from how he scrambled to grab your wrists.  Steve rapidly shakes his head, blurting, “What? No! No, I didn’t!”

You let out a scoff, nodding sarcastically as if you believed him. “So… you just cleaning it up? Bullshit,” you spit, and Steve looks almost hurt by your insinuation.

“Yes! “ He announced, running a hand through his hair when you tugged your wrists free. “I didn’t write this!”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at him accusingly, like he was stupid. “Then who did, Harrington?”

“Tommy.”

“Oh, you’re best friend!” you exclaimed, “That totally makes so much of a difference.”

“No, Henderson, — I.” He groaned. He glanced around, breathing out of his mouth before he pinched his nose. “I should’ve stopped him, I know, but I’m cleaning this up now. I’m trying to fix it.”

“Because you got caught?”

“No! I just—,” he shook his head. “I’m not… friends with those assholes anymore. I just wanna help.”

Really? you thought to yourself. Your nose scrunched as you scanned him up and down for a second with repulsion. He’s not friends with Tommy and Carol anymore? That’s hard to believe.

Your interrogation seemed never ended, and you still had the urge to punch him in the face despite the cuts and bruises that stand prominent on his handsome face. You wet your lips, ignoring your natural concern and continuing. “Help? Help what?”

“I wanna apologize,” he said. “To Nance.”

“Really?” you deadpanned.  Steve arms waved wildly before he poked to fingers into his forehead, closing his eyes.

“Yes, I’m sorry. Is it that hard to believe?”

“Yeah, it is, King Steve,” you scoffed, before you let your thoughts slip into your words. You switch your footing, voice quieting ever so slightly when you ask, “What happened to your face?”

He paused.

“Byers,” Steve replied embarrassed, not even looking at you as your eyes widen.

“Really?” You sound surprised, and you are. The boy who’s been the nicest to you, one of your best friends ever since you’d gotten to town. Your babysitting buddy. The boy who’s brother was missing.

“Johnathan did that?” You ask. When he nods, you hum. “You deserved it.”

“I know.”

Humming, you look at Steve for a second, checking out his bloodied face and red knuckles. Next to his foot is the sponge he was using, it’s turning red and it looks like it’s decomposing from overuse. It makes you clear your throat when you catch his eyes again.

Quietly, almost whispering, you ask, “Do you love her?” You gulp, specifying, “Nancy?”

He sighed, and he looked at you for a good minute, clearly contemplating. Truth be told, he didn’t know. She was… different from his other girlfriend.

Steve would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t like you. He knew he did, since last year and you walked in wearing a pretty little sundress and gave him attitude when he offered to be your prince charming and open your locker. Maybe he liked Nancy a lot, but he didn’t know if you could love someone and stare at their best friend when their back was turned.

He swallowed, shrugging. “I don’t know.”

You don’t like him. You don’t like him. You don’t like him.

Steve’s word make you nod to yourself, ignoring the relief you feel that he’s not in love with her for Nancy’s sake. Clearly, Steve was a shitty teenage boy, and even worse boyfriend, but you believed in change.

“You really want to make things right?” you question, still trying to keep your guard up despite how you feel them crashing down around you. Goddammit, you hate Steve Harrington.

“Yes,” he groaned, meaningfully.

In your head, you were screaming. Blood curdling, a homicide victim type of screaming, and it’s so loud, so so freaking loud that you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. Maybe, that’s why you make a dumb decision.

You shrug, already turning around to start walking. “Okay, then. Let’s go.”

“Wait, what? Where?”

“To go see Nancy,” you scoffed, as if it was common knowledge. Impatiently, you said, “Come on, I don’t want to be seen with you.”

You trudged forward, once white sneakers thumping against the sidewalk. Behind you, you can hear Steve jog forward, eager to catch up with you.

It doesn’t take long, but the moment he’s beside you, words spill from his lips, quickly. “I— I have my car.”

Pausing in your step, you begrudgingly looked at Steve, quite relieved that you don’t have to walk all the way to Jonathan’s house. “Okay. Where?”

“Over here,” Steve says, almost out of breath as he points to his car. You head towards it without a second thought, harshly pulling on his passenger car door and glaring at him when it doesn’t open.

Steve looks at you strangely, kinda of afraid of you, and he puts his key in before opening the door for you. You don’t look at him, not even when he gets inside the driver seat and starts the car, too busy staring out the window.

“Do you, um, want any music?” Steve stutters, looking at you hesitantly. You roll your eyes.

“You not talking is enough for me,” you smile, sarcastically.

“Oh,” Steve deadpans, biting his lips at he turns away from you, ready to drive.

Great, now you feel bad. You offer, “What do you have?”

“Yeah— yeah, I have Beat It, some AC/DC, Uptown Girl—

“Uptown Girl, please,” you cut him off.  Your casual manners make Steve blush. You don’t even notice that you said it, and it reminds Steve how good you are. You were solid good.

A good girl.

A nice girl.

And one who wants nothing to do with him.

Go figure.

Steve realizes how fucked up his mind is as his knuckles turn white on the stirring wheel. He starts to drive, listening to you hum while starring out the window, sometimes cutting yourself off to tell him directions to Jonathan’s house.

When he asked why there, you said that he had to apologize to Jonathan first. He listens to you for reasons he could not comprehend, because he found himself trusting you despite how much you must hate because he knows you.

In the hallways, he’d watched you tell freshmen directions, laugh on your way to class, help kids who would drop things. You’d barely notice the boys that trailed after you that you thought were only friends, and he’d watch you scold them whenever they were mean to some freak, or nerd, or geek, in the halls.

You were nice. The nicest girl at that damn school, and unbeknownst to you, The Queen Of Hawkins High.

He can’t keep his eyes off you, and he’s never felt guiltier. He let his friend call his girlfriend a slut while he was yearning to kiss her best friend on the way to apologize to her. There was something wrong with him. Steve shook his head, letting his eyes part from you and focus on the road.

The drive was slow, but the moment the car parked in the Byers’ driveway, you were quick to usher Steve out.

“Go,” you wave.

“What?” Steve’s heart races. “Right— right now?”

“When else?” you blink.

“Shouldn’t we rehearse something?”

You sigh, holding back a much needed eye roll. A fake smile props on your lips. “‘Jonathan, I’m sorry for fighting you in the middle of the street. That one’s on me,’” you say. “‘Oh, and I feel bad for smashing your camera to little bits. How about I buy you a new one with my daddy’s money?’” You drop your smile. “That good?”

“The camera wasn’t my fault,” he justified.

 “I know, I was there. Still, that doesn’t make what you did right, so get out of the car and apologize,” you punctuated.

Steve mouth gaped. Then, he begrudgingly unbuckles his seat belt and grumbles under his breath, stepping out the vehicle. He slams the car door shut.

You snorted a laugh, sinking into Steve’s comfy car seats.

From where your sat, you have a clear viewing of the show. You’re not sure whether or not Jonathan will forgive him. Apart of you hopes he doesn’t. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

What did surprise you was watching Steve, under the warm yellow glow from the Byers house lights, pound on the door and then eventually force his way in.

Hastily, you trailed after him, leaves crunching under your quick feet.

“Steve!” you called once in the door way. “This wasn’t what we talked about…”

The words died in your throat as your eyes scattered across the room, the sight of Jonathan, a shit ton of weapons his living room table and Nancy with a gun pointed at Steve’s face had you had you bewildered.

“You two need to leave now!” Jonathan said, but you were more focused on Nancy’s count down, gun still pointed at Steve.

Before you could think, you were shoving yourself in between Steve, Jonathan, and the gun, hand raised in defense. The mass of Christmas lights around you flickered briskly with your final shout, “What is going on?”

Few words between Nancy and Jonathan end with Steve Harrington, grabbing your wrist and dragging you down the hall into a bedroom as a venus-flytrap looking bear rips apart the ceiling.

“What the hell was that,” Steve yelled along with a variety of curses.

“Shut up!” Nancy and Jonathan shouted, synchronized.

You and Steve shared a feared look.

Pounds and gurgles erupt from the other side of the door until they suddenly stopped. In the silence, Nancy and Jonathan exit the room, Steve and you right behind them.

“Are you going to tell us what that was?” you rasped desperately.

Nancy’s reply was short. “A demogorgon.”

You recognized that name. “Like—,” you brows pinched together. “From DnD?”

“That’s what the boys said.”

“The boys,” you repeated. “Like Dustin, Lucas, and Mike? They know about this?”

“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry but we don’t have time for the questions. It’s going to come back, and you two,” she gestures to you and Steve, “need to leave. Right now.”

Breathing heavy, and with the shake of your head, you said, “No.”

“Yes, go,” Nancy said, stepping closer. You were the same height, she couldn’t intimidate you, not even with a gun in her hand. You weren’t going to leave, especially because of the newfound fear of that thing going after your brother.

“Y/N,” Steve tried, eager for the door.

“No, you go,” you said to Steve then turned to Nancy, “I’m staying so either let me help kill it or I’ll stand here and be bait.”

“Fine,” Nancy said.

Jonathan threw you a lighter. “Throw this into the carpet when it’s here.”

Steve felt pathetic watching the three of you. He didn’t want to leave and be a coward, but he didn’t want to die either. One thought over powered the other and he sprinted to his car, but seeing rapid flickering lights, he forced himself back inside.

After swinging a crowbar at the demogorgon and watching it swallow it whole, you were sure you were going to die. You fell back, squeaking in despair as you did so. The demogorgon’s mouth widen, and you may have gotten a little teary eyed at the sight of Jonathan and Nancy on the floor, looking helpless as well.

But to your shock, Steve Harrington jumped in front of you, swinging a bat like he hadn’t quit baseball in seventh grade.

What happened next was blur, but you remember Steve Harrington forcing you to your feet and the sight of a demogorgon enveloped in flames.

—

With shallow breaths, you sat on the wooden porch in front of the Byers’ house, illuminated by a singular warm lantern, recollecting the previous events. Mind racing, you hardly notice the body next to yours.

Well, until, and hand landed on your shoulder. It’s large, much bigger than your own. Your eyes traced the arm up to its owner, seeing a bloody, concerned face staring back at you.

“You okay?” Steve asked, and your heart swelled the slightest bit at his worry. He had just almost killed himself and he was worried about you.

Your eyebrows twitched, the undying desire to hate him still present. “Yeah,” you choked, “I’m fine.”

Steve nodded. He retracted the hand off your shoulder slowly, which you were grateful for. Nancy and Johnathan’s dull chatter filled the void, the four of you too nerved to fully close the front door.

Clearing your throat, you said, not looking at him. “Thank you for — um — saving my life.”

When Steve spoke, you turned to him. “Anybody would’ve done the same.”

“No they wouldn’t have,” you said, entire body angling towards him. You kept your hands in your lap, tediously explaining, “They would’ve ran for the hills, like you should’ve, but you didn’t. So thanks. I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it,” he griped, but you shook your head with a scoff, readjusting yourself to look straight forward. You went silent again. Not far from you, you can hear the engine of a car, smell the toxic carbon monoxide polluting the air.

Steve Harrington saved your life. King Steve Harrington saved your life.

Laughing to yourself, you eyed Steve carefully. “I never would’ve taken you for a hero, Harrington.”

“Guess you were wrong,” Steve chuckled. His eyes shone particularly bright in the moonlight.

“Mhm,” you hummed, looking to your lap, “maybe about a lot of things too.”

You hadn’t known why you said that. Steve’s lips parted at your words, a dumbfounded look forming on his face.

“Y/N!”

Immediately, your head whipped to the noise. Your eyes widened with recognition to the voice. “Dustin!” you shouted, voice echoing off the trees in question.

A car pulled up, and in the back windows you could see three smiling faces in the window.

Smiling. They’re okay, you told yourself. And free to yell.

“You boys are so lucky.” The words came out forced, a quiver in your voice at the pure relief you feel, rushing to the boys off the porch and watching the three of them exit the car safely. “You could’ve gotten yourselves killed,” you snapped. “Why didn’t you told me?”

Only after you spoke did you notice their red rimmed eyes.

Your lips twitched into a frown. Swallowing back your own tears, you pulled Dustin, Lucas, and Mike into a hug. “I’m so glad you all are okay.”

Vaguely, blue and red flashing lights pull up onto the driveway of the Byers’ house. Police step out their car with questioning looks. It’s not long before one offers to take you and your brother home.

Glancing behind you, Steve Harrington’s eyes found yours swiftly, as if they had been trained to you this entire time. Hesitantly, you raised your hand, not very high, but just visibly for him to see. You gave Steve a small wave.

He smiled at you, and you were sure that it hurt.

been meaning to write a steve fic for a while. he’s so boyfriend and i’m a huge hopelessly pining/enemies to lovers girly

not my best, probably will rewrite in the future

[kyumisyumi]

Something something something eldritch Nikto something something something

I've sifted through so many ideas for this because I didn't wanna just pick a random eldritch creature from my box of horrors and slap Nikto's name on it. But also I don't feel like I have enough info about him(ironic, considering I write about him so much) to craft him into a creature. I watched some documentaries on eldritch horrors, dived into Russian cryptids and still drew blanks but here's what I managed

Rating: E for everyone who loves Nikto

Eldritch!Nikto x F!Reader

Word count: 1K

~Taking requests~

You weren't running from the consequences of your actions, more like briskly walking in the opposite directions. Looking forward all the way because backwards held the sounds of large dogs and angry men. Their boots cracking every twig and foliage along the way, voices interrupting the once peaceful ambiance of the woods. You could hardly tell whether the growling was from the hounds or the men. And really, who wouldn't want to run away from such a thing? Not run; walk. Quickly, very quickly. You were being smart, not cowardly.

No, never that.

You weren't cowardly when you snuck into that guardsman's post. You weren't cowardly when you tried to steal the gold he confiscated from the Miller's wife, the only woman that kept you fed while the streets were your home. You weren't cowardly when you defended yourself once he caught you. And you weren't cowardly when you accidentally bashed his head in with a clay pot. He should've worn a helmet, really. A guard should always have their helmet on! What was he thinking? Now look at you, running for your life and deluding yourself as if it would change the actions of the past.

Running.

You ran your mouth, ran your mind, but no matter how fast you moved, you couldn't outrun hunting dogs. Your fault, really, for trying to do so while wearing the long, ugly skirt you stole from someone's unattended clothesline. You should've maybe stolen the guard's old pants, you knew he had some because he mentioned wanting to give them to his nephew who was in combat training. Instead you dashed out the home the moment you realized he wasn't breathing, panicked by your first time taking a life. What were you thinking?

"I wasn't-" you spat a thick glob of blood out your mouth, it's red color staining the putrid black floor. Tears staining your vision and pain plaguing your mind. "I didn't mean to." You said it over and over again but it was little defense against men who'd lost a comrade because of you. A good man. A good man who stole from widows and bullied the elderly? It's weird how two people can look at the same person but see someone different. But that train of thought was halted by a kick to your stomach. And when one of the men took the final hit, the force of it sending you against the edge of the pit, you finally felt that feeling in your stomach. The one you hid away behind conversations with yourself. Locked away behind a naive expectation that things will either go your way or go away. Your first taste of true regret. Because you got a glimpse of where that attitude has lead you. That attitude that kept you going when your parents had left you. That attitude that kept you alive when your survival was in your own hands at an age where other children were being coddled and sung to. That attitude that protected you in the harsh village slum, now had you staring down into hell. 'The pit'; a giant hole defacing mother earth's perfect form. It's surface covered in black ichor, you couldn't tell whether the walls were moving or you'd been hit so hard your vision was thoroughly fucked. This was considered a punishment worse than death. Jokesters and troublemakers got a stern talking to. Thieves and crooks got jail time. Murders and adulterers got death. But the truly damned got the pit. The punishment didn't match the crime but judging by the hate filled glares of the men surrounding you, they didn't much care.

Or maybe they did care, they cared about you as much as you did yourself, these days.

That was a more comforting thought, maybe? Maybe not. Either way, thinking about it felt a whole lot better than thinking of the weightlessness you felt as you fell. Your vision quickly losing the greens and yellows of a gentle forest to being plunged into darkness. A darkness beyond description. One that surpassed what's seen when you close your eyes for the night. That surpassed the unconsciousness of sleep when dreams escaped you. A darkness that felt like death yet was somehow alive.

The walls were moving, they shifted uncomfortably as they felt the presence of another. Voices that whispered of uncertainty and conflict. Voices that yelled intruder and ones that yelled fodder. But one voice just hummed in curiosity at seeing the source of blood and spit and tears it tasted. He had consumed many of your kind but what little it had of you ignited interest rather than hunger. So it did not eat. Didn't wrap you in its tendrils and rip you apart into easily digestible pieces to be absorbed by its mass. The tendrils held you, confused by their many intentions and wants, before simply bringing you lower into the pit. To the very bottom that no other creature has ever seen. No other creature would ever be allowed near. Far too close to it's more vulnerable organs. But you wouldn't hurt it, would you? Wouldn't hurt them. Not with those blunt nails and teeth, not with those little limbs and severed ties to the natural order. You were weaker than it's weakest points yet you fought against his tendrils like you believed you could win. Struggled and resisted as if you had a fighting chance. 'Hush, little human.' It thought as it strangled you, only enough to render you unconscious. Give it enough time to build a prison home inside itself for you. Then build a form for himself more perceptible to your primitive eyes, he'd tried once before but the human face was so hard to mimic. There was so much anger inside you, more for yourself than for him. And Nikto couldn't understand it. There is only one 'you' inside that tiny, fleshy form. How can one be angry at their own/only self? That would be one of the first things he asked. He felt there was nothing a creature like you could teach him yet he had so much he wanted to ask regardless. Maybe once he had his answers he could finally consume you in peace. Maybe then the voices that called for him to spare you will quiet down. And the ones that screamed for him to bond with you will stop. Your body couldn't handle the things he desires... Could it?

Regardless, he has time. All the time in the world and beyond.

Silly human, getting yourself thrown down here, what were you thinking?

All in all, I didn't want to forget the eldritch and just make a monster.

[straykids-97]

Heat

Day Three of Spooky Week!

Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself.

Warnings: Werewolf Changbin, (Binnie is whipped for the reader), praise, manhandling (if you squint), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m & f), orgasm control (if you squint), Changbin also mocks the reader so like, dumbification too? lmk if I forgot anything

Word Count: 2.04k

Changbin was distracted. And it was all your fault. Not that you were intentionally trying to distract him, you were cleaning the kitchen after dinner. Music played softly from your phone, he could hear every word that you hummed along to as you wiped the dishtowel over the counters. 

He was trying to focus at his desk, but your swaying hips drew his attention every time you moved. Changbin let out a huff, turning back to his computer and putting his headphones back on, dead set on finishing what he had started earlier. 

But he found himself straining to listen to you softly singing, and his eyes began to wander back to where you stood, putting dishes away. Changbin rolled his eyes, knowing that his Alpha, Chris, was going to have his head if he didn’t complete this overture before the end of the week. So, he persisted, albeit distracted. 

Everything happened in a cycle, and he knew he was next. But, he thought he had a little longer, at least a week or so before he hit his rut. It always went Chris, Minho and then him, the rest of their pack falling after Changbin. Minho had just ended his, so Changbin was anticipating his to hit soon. 

But not this soon.

He realized very suddenly having his human girlfriend nearby was probably not in either of your interests. No matter how badly he dreamt of just bending you over and fuc- He stopped the thought before it came out, balling his hands into fists. “Fuck.” He hissed, holding his head in his hands. 

You both had an agreement for your safety; do avoid Changbin during his rut. Changbin was strong, incredibly so, and he was very scared of hurting you while chasing his high. Not just by putting you into whatever position he desired, but from overstimulation. Rutting was rough, not just on who was affected directly but indirectly as well. You two were only just starting to grow intimate, and he didn’t want to scare you away by rutting. 

It could get scary, and fast.  

Changbin twisted, eyes dancing up your bare calves to your thighs. “Baby,” he breathed, pulling his headphones off, “I think you should go come tonight…” He trailed off. At his words, you turned to look at him, pouting slightly. “What? I brought clothes-” You start to say but when he stands you realize what he was getting at. 

“Oh.” Your face heats with a blush, “Are you sure?” Changbin swallows, hard. “I don’t want to hurt you on accident… I didn’t think my rut would be hitting so quick- I just think you should go home…” Your eyes land on his bulge, and you can’t help but stare. He was well endowed, that much was noticeable from the beginning. Even before the two of you started dating, you knew he wasn’t lying when he said he knew what he was packing. 

“Binnie…” You trail off, putting your towel on the counter. He groans at the sound of you saying his nickname, his eyes watching your every movement as you slowly move toward him. “Binnie… I can’t go home… I feel like I’m doing something wrong by leaving you like this…” You close the distance, looking up into his eyes. 

At first, he tried to not meet your gaze, but grabbing his chin to drag his attention back made something in him snap. Changbin quickly wrapped his hand around your wrist, squeezing just enough to let you know you were treading on thin ice but not enough to hurt you. “Y/n.” He grunted, “Don’t. I’m begging.” He was fighting an inner battle that looked like he was teetering on the edge of losing. 

“If you want me to go,” you lean in, “then I’ll go.” You watch as he clenches his jaw and bobs his head. You take a half step backward, “Ok.” You give him some space and offer a soft smile. “I’m one call away if you need me, Binnie.” You go to the bedroom and put your sweatpants on. After gathering your things, you begin to walk to the door. You come to the living room to find that Changbin hasn’t moved a fraction of an inch. His eyes tracked your movements as you paused, “I’ll text you when I get home…” You give him another smile before turning and going to the door. 

Passing through the dining area to the hallway where the door was, you put your bag of clothes on the ground so that you could put your shoes on. As you righted yourself, a hand wrapped around the front of your throat, pulling you tightly to Changbin’s hard chest. You gasp as hot breath spreads across your shoulder. “You make me feel so fucking guilty for wanting you sometimes.” 

He’s panting, his chest heaving up and down as he squeezes tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to make you drop your other bag. “Chan-” You start to protest, but he pins you to the wall before you can form a sentence. 

“You make this so fucking difficult.” He groans, yanking off your shirt. “Fuck.” he sucks on his bottom lip as he roughly palms your breasts, moaning. He rips your bra off, ruining one of your favorite bras in seconds. He wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs and picks you up, causing you to squeal. 

Your breasts were in his face, not that he was protesting. He originally wanted to bring you to the bedroom, but the smell of your arousal thwarted those plans. So, instead, he tossed you onto the couch. You were breathless as you stared up at him and he essentially ripped his clothes off as well. 

The only thing left between you and him was your sweats and panties, which he peeled off in record time. He pushed your thighs up, your knees by your face as he licks a stripe up your bare pussy. You gasp, throwing your head back in ecstasy as he swirls his tongue around your clit. Your hands don’t know where to go; in his hair or to hang on to the couch for dear life. 

He was eating you out like a man starved. 

“Changbin!” You cry out as he inserts two of his thick fingers, angling them up so that they hit that gooey spot that makes your toes curl and see stars. Your eyes roll back and your head presses into the cushion, “Fuck!” The leg he dropped was now draped over his shoulder as he made you come, screaming as he pulled away. You were shaking, “Holy shit.” You pant, staring up at him with hooded eyes, watching as he licked his lips. 

He wiped his face with a hand, licking the fingers that he had just put inside you like they were ice cream. Changbin grins down at you wickedly, crawling over your body until he is face to face with you. “This is what you wanted, baby.” He purrs, “You wanted me… Wanted this.” He hissed, the tip of his cock rubbing over your oversensitive clit causing you to yelp. Changbin chuckled, “Part of the package deal now…” He trails off, talking mostly to himself as he spreads your legs. 

He leans back and looks down at your shaking body, “Fuck… You’re so reactive to me baby…” he praised, biting his lip as he rolled his hips, his cock running up your folds. You shudder, hand flying up to his wrist that was holding your ankle. “Binnie!” You raise your ass up just enough so that the tip of his cock pressed into you. He groaned, “So fucking needy for me… Fuck, I love it.” He purred. 

He didn’t tease you much, he was just as needy for you as you were for him. Maybe just a little bit more so than you. He lets out a low hiss as he settles inside you, your mouth hanging open as your body threatens to rip apart. Your entire body was thrumming with desire as he leisurely dragged his hips back and forth, a hand holding your thigh to the couch and the other holding your ankle by your head. 

You wrap your hand around the back of his neck, eyes shutting tightly as an orgasm washed over you. Changbin’s hips stuttered as you shattered around him, splintering into small fragments as you shook. He was panting, not from exertion, but because he was trying desperately not to already cum. 

But the sight of your eyes fluttering and your teeth sinking into your lip made his brain short circuit, temporally forgetting that you were human. He growls huskily, pushing your thigh up so that both your feet are by your ears. You were shocked, a startled gasp leaving your mouth as he slammed into you repeatedly, broken, shaggy moans escaping your lips as he pounded into you relentlessly, chasing his high. He was too far gone now, lost in the feeling of your soaking heat to care about the sounds of your screams, they spurred him on. 

“Fuck!” He shouted, warmth spreading through your womb. He slowed for a few moments, clarity coming to him for a moment to look down at your fucked out expression. He grinned, leisurely rolling his hips into yours. “Awe, so cute. All dumb and brain-dead for me.” He cooed. You opened your mouth but a sharp thrust cut off the words that were about to come out. 

You felt yourself tighten around him, another orgasm threatening to rip through you but to your shock, Changbin pulls out. “Nuh-uh,” he chuckles, “not yet.” He sits on the couch, pulling you on top of him. You brace yourself, putting your hands on his shoulders as grabs your hips, biting his lip. He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, distracting you from what he is doing beneath you. 

He was lining himself up to your center, this time, thrusting up harshly. You gasp, teeth gnashing against Changbin’s as he holds your waist, continuing his assault on your pussy. You shuddered, moaning as he held you to his chest. You squeal as an orgasm tears through you suddenly, his cock stroking your g-spot with expert precision. “Fuck!” You say through the slapping of skin. 

Changbin wasted no time following right behind you, grunting as he came, hips slamming into yours once again as he moaned into your hair. “Fuck!” He growled, panting into the nape of your neck. You thought it was over, but he kept going, orgasm after orgasm ripped through your sensitive body until you were crying. 

Part of you wanted him to stop, but the other was begging him to keep going. You were a babbling mess, on your stomach as Changbin fucked into you from behind. He had his hands on your waist, pressing you into the couch. 

He was sweaty, his sweat dripping down his body as he fucked into you. His hair clung to his forehead, his chain stuck to his neck as he growled above you. You clutch the couch for support as a rough orgasm rips through your body so hard that you almost collapse. 

He still doesn’t stop. 

Changbin puts his hands on either side of your head, long, deep strokes hitting your g-spot making you moan loudly, grunting as he fucked into you. “Fuck- baby.” He moans, picking up the pace. “Take whatever I give you, like a good girl.” He nibbles your shoulder, groaning as he begins to come undone, “Fuck- shit- baby- fuck!” He bellows, throwing his head back, hips finally stilling. 

One last sharp thrust and he was pulling out. He sat back, looking at the mess between your thighs, chuckling at you breathlessly. “Are you ok, baby?” He shook your ass, making you giggle softly, slumping into the couch. He crawled up to where you were, pulling you onto his sweaty chest. “Sorry, I should have just let you go home. You’re going to be so sore-” He begins to apologize, but you put your hand over his mouth. “Shush.” He snorts, hands beginning to massage your body as you start to fall asleep. 

“Don’t fall asleep. We need to shower… And have round two.” 

Thank you so much for reading! ©️straykids-97

Taglist: @artisticbirb @kaitchan @queenmea604 @bangchans-angel

[highdramas]

hey bae!! can i pls request a fluffy steve harrington imagine, s3/s4 er’s with the fake dating friends to lovers trope? ty!!

eeeee i loved this!!! i drew some inspo from to all the boys i've loved before <3 love a shy reader moment!!! thank you for sending and i hope you enjoy [wc: 3249.] <3

--

you don't know how the letters got out. how the hell would the letters have gotten out?

you're going through things to get rid of in preparation of going to college-- sure, you were just going to school in indianapolis, but it was better than staying this hell hole of a town even one second longer-- but the hatbox was gone. no, not gone. worse. it was empty.

the expletive you let out has your father screaming from down the hall. "what did i say about language?!"

"sorry!" you squeak as you continue to throw clothes over your shoulders, furrowed brows. "no, no, no..." you groan and cover your face with your hands. this is cruel. god is a cruel, petty thing, you decide.

haven't you been good? you volunteer at the humane society. you never got detention in high school. you'd never stolen anything. you liked to think that you were a good person-- quiet, maybe. introverted, definitely. shy more than anything. and, well, that's how you got into this debacle in the first place.

a hopeless romantic by nature, you could never fathom truly confessing to the loves of your lives. especially considering all of those loves definitely did not feel the same way towards you. i mean-- was king steve going to have a crush on you? no way. which was why it was easy to write your love confession on the page, seal it up, address, stamp, and all-- and place it in the hatbox to never be seen again.

until now.

"honey--" you hear your mother call from downstairs. "someone's asking for you on the phone."

"who?!" you yell back, gripping the banister.

"steve harrington."

your blood goes cold.

you would take ten extra volunteer shifts at the humane society if it meant that all of this would go away.

you shuffle downstairs and take the phone from your mom, leaning against the wall, glancing from right to left as if he was really there with you. "hello?"

"and his hair-- he has the most gorgeous hair i've ever seen. i want to run my hands through it and--"

"STOP!" you run your hand over your face and squeeze your eyes shut. "oh my god, literally, please--"

"oh, c'mon. i'm giving you shit. you know, this whole letter is really sweet. you're a good writer. and sending right before you go off to college? bold move. i respect it." steve's voice has the warmth of a smile embedded into it. you can picture him on the other line, the crisp strawberry stationary in his big hand.

you don't know why you had picked strawberries for steve. it seemed fitting at the time.

breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, you say slowly, "that wasn't meant to get to you. and, for the record, that was written, like, three years ago."

"wow. you wound me. well, either way, really boosted my ego. i figured i would come by and thank you in person. you live off church street, right? the little green house?"

stammering, you can barely get a word out before he says, "okay, cool, i thought so. see you in ten."

and he hangs up on you. just like that.

it reminds you exactly why your crush on king steve went away in the first place.

--

steve makes it to your house in eight minutes. he comes right up to the door and knocks, and when you open it, frantic and frazzled and with your sweater on backwards, he looks you up and down.

"your tag's sticking out." he tucks it back in for you. "and... it's backwards."

"i realize that now."

"great."

for a moment you're just staring at one another. then steve cracks a smile. "c'mon. can i get you, like, a milkshake or something? you look a little shaky, some sugar would probably--"

but everything goes silent. because approaching your door behind steve is ryan stewart, holding a letter of his own.

"fuck," you hiss under your breath, eyes darting to steve.

"woah, she curses! cool. i always thought you were super uptight, you know--" his words are cut off when you take him by the face and bring him to you, your lips crashing against his. it's slightly awkward; you're mostly kissing his top lip and your noses are crushed together a bit. but his hand finds a home on your waist and you feel his fingertips grip into your skin slightly. when you pull away, you can feel the fire on your face. and when you look over steve's shoulder at ryan, you feel a sick sort of triumph.

"milkshakes sound great, steve," you say the words loud enough for ryan to hear and you wrap your arm around his, calling over your shoulders to your parents that you'll be back soon. the look on steve's face is nothing short of befuddled, but when he turns around and sees ryan stewart standing there with a letter in hand, something seems to click into place.

he shifts your position from an awkward arm lock to a natural draping of his arm across your shoulder. he offers ryan a smile that says-- hey, can i help you? "hey, stewart," he says, nodding his head at him as he walks by.

ryan opens his mouth to say something but steve has already shuffled you into his car. he even opened the door for you. by the time the two of you are inside and steve is driving away, ryan has barely turned in his spot.

silence fills the car. you touch your bottom lip and you feel steve's eyes on you. "well," he begins. "your technique could use some work, but not a bad kiss, all things considered."

dumbfounded where you sit, you slowly glance over at him to see him wearing the biggest smirk imaginable.

and some of your lipstick.

you groan and cover your face with your hands, a muffled, "i'm sorry." getting out. barely. all you can hear is his laughter and when you drop your hands, you can't help but admire just how pretty he looks when he's laughing.

"you don't have anything to be sorry for. a pretty girl kissed me? wow, what a hardship." steve looks over at you. "i'm more curious as to what ryan stewart did to make you kiss me like that."

crossing your arms over your chest, you look out the window. "okay, well-- remember when i told you about the letters?" he nods his head. "well, like i said, you're not the only one who got one. you, ryan, eddie munson, and a boy from summer camp when i was twelve. instead of risking embarrassment and putting my feelings out there, i wrote the letters. and i always felt better when i did."

steve is quiet for a moment before he says, "that's sorta sad, and doesn't answer my question, really."

you roll your eyes and continue. "well, ryan's letter was different than the other ones. it was... a heartbreak letter. ryan and i had dated for six months last year but wanted to keep it a secret. from everyone. and then he ended things with me and got with someone else. prom king and queen." your head falls back against the headrest. "so i wrote how i felt. just like i always do. and you know what? you getting your letter, fine. eddie? he'll be nice about it. the boy from summer camp? who knows if he even got his. but that letter getting out..." you shrug, feeling meek in all the worst ways. "i didn't want him to feel sorry for me. or think that i'm sad and hung up over him, because i'm not. and you were... right there. and i wanted him to see that someone else would kiss me. in public." you press your lips together. "i realize that also sounds sad."

"it does, but not because of you. it sounds sad because ryan is a total dickhead." steve pulls into the parking lot of the diner and he turns and looks at you. "i think i have an idea."

--

"this'll never work."

"it'll absolutely work," steve says with a grin. "it'll make ryan jealous as hell, and remind girls what they're missing when they're not going out with me. i mean, it's basically foolproof. and at the end we go our separate ways with no ill will for one another. c'mon-- give credit where credit is due."

you slide your milkshake closer to yourself and take a long sip. "well, how long do we do this for?"

"you're moving away in three months for school. that seems like a good chunk of time, don't you think?" steve leans forward on his forearms. "look, i know i say a lot, but you don't have to do this if you don't want to. it was just... an idea." he shrugs and you don't know if you've ever seen steve so... sheepish before.

"no. no. it's... it's a good idea, unfortunately." you pause. "but there's going to need to be rules!"

"rules! rules, we can do rules. easy. what rules are you thinking?"

"well... how much time are we going to spend together? how much will we kiss? we're gonna have to go out in order for people to see about us and hear about us, so where are we gonna go? what about--"

steve's hand reaches out and covers yours. it's warm, and calloused slightly. like he's a star baseball player. "we'll figure all of that out. i promise." his thumb swipes across your skin. "contrary to popular belief, i do know how to date someone. how to make someone feel... special." he peers at you. "i can do that stuff for you, too. you know--" he clears his throat. "to make it all more believable."

breathless, you nod your head. "yeah," you smile. "believable."

--

you and steve harrington were the absolute talk of hawkins, indiana. one month into this... experiment and everyone had an opinion, everyone had a comment. even the kiss in front of ryan had become public knowledge. ryan told one person, one told another person, who told five people... and suddenly, after feeling mostly invisible through your high school career, you feel very visible. almost uncomfortably so.

but steve is a good partner in it. there's a reason why you wrote him a letter those years ago-- maybe even then you had seen something in him that other people didn't always recognize. regardless of the bravado, you always felt like there was something... soft about him. a soft underbelly that few people ever got. and now, you know that you were right all along.

because after a day at park, rolling around in the grass and reading to steve and looking around to see who's watching... he could be anywhere else. but he's here, at your house, with you. watching grease.

"your hair kinda reminds me of danny's," you say with a smile. you reach across the couch and run your hand through it; in the weeks that you've been putting on this ruse, you've gotten extremely comfortable around steve. that part is not fake. not one bit. "i like it."

steve smiles and settles further into your couch. "well, does that make you my sandy?"

"i guess so." you scrunch your nose up. "but i never really liked sandy's ending. i mean, why should she change herself to fit in with everyone else? she knows who she is. i never thought that was fair." you scoot a little closer to steve, subconsciously. you'd both agreed that no one could know about your arrangement, especially not your parents. so you supposed that sitting close to him on the couch wasn't that weird.

even if your parents weren't home.

"it's not fair. sandy was cute before the jumpsuit." steve shrugs his shoulders and looks over at you. there's a silence as you two stare at each other. "i'm cool with you being my sandy," the corner of his mouth turns up and he opens his arms. "c'mere."

"steve-- my parents aren't home, we don't have to--"

"it's not for anyone to see. you don't like to cuddle?"

you huff and settle into his arms, your cheek squished against the strong plane of his chest, your legs stretched out across the couch. "of course i like to cuddle."

"that's what i thought."

you both fell asleep like that. you're awoken by steve's gentle touch, brushing your hair from your eyes and shaking your shoulder. "hey-- hey, baby, we fell asleep."

you grumble but don't make any moves to get up any time soon. you feel steve's laugh on your cheek more than you hear it. "alright, you leave me no choice--" you groan in discontent when he slips out from under you. but then he's scooping you up into his arms.

steve takes you up the stairs and into your bedroom, laying you down gently. he pulls back the covers and tucks you beneath them. your eyes flutter open to find him watching you with a lovely smile. truly lovely-- it's the smile that gives you butterflies. "you can't stay?" you whisper, and if you were fully awake, you'd be mortified for asking such a thing.

"don't want to get you in trouble." he pushes your hair back and kisses your cheek, your forehead. "i'll come by in the morning, take you to breakfast. how's that sound?"

you nod your head and yawn. your hand rubs at his arm, a matching smile on your own face. "okay."

"okay," steve whispers. he leans forward and kisses your cheek again. "sweet dreams. see you in the morning."

--

you're not sure how three months went by so quickly.

you also don't know how to reckon with the fact that they went by so quickly because you loved every single moment of them.

it wasn't just that steve was a good fake boyfriend-- steve was just a good person. a good friend. every moment that you spent around him, you wanted to bottle that moment up and live in it forever. he was, whether you wanted to admit it or not, your favorite person.

ryan was an afterthought. none of this was for him, anymore. this... it was all for steve.

"where should i put this one?" steve asks, holding up a box labeled books. "you have, like fifty books boxes. do you even get a bookshelf in your dorm?"

your childhood bedroom is in tatters, picked apart and almost all packed up for your drive tomorrow. you'd be staying at steve's tonight prior to your drive. an occurrence that wasn't all that rare, anyway. you always slept side by side, and it always ended with his strong arms wrapped all around you.

steve and the kids would be there for your send off. another wonderful addition to bringing steve into your life-- the kids that came along with him. dustin was your favorite, but you weren't going to tell that to the others.

and while three months ago, you couldn't wait to get out of hawkins... you don't feel that same excitement now. you're still excited, definitely, but... you have something that you're going to be missing, now. you hadn't exactly planned for that.

you have someone who you'll be missing.

"i can always make room for books," you say, turning your nose up at steve. "you can set it there," you point to another stack of boxes. "thanks for helping."

"'course. that's what a boyfriend's there for."

silence falls over the two of you and you think that steve realizes what he said, because he suddenly goes rigid as he sets the box down with the others. "i mean-- like, a friend. a boy that's a friend. and also your fake boyfriend. i--" he sighs and rubs his face. "fuck."

setting down the tape in your hand, you turn your attention more fully to steve. his hand drops and he meets your gaze and for the first time, you can see everything written all over his face. like he's dropped a mask that's been hiding his real, true feelings. or maybe you'd just been too blind to see it. "say that again."

"a boy that's a friend?"

"no. before that."

he pauses. "that's... that's what a boyfriend is there for?"

you nod your head slowly. "is that... is that how you view yourself? with me? my boyfriend... for real?"

steve's cheeks start to go pink. "i mean... i know you're my best friend. and i know that i fucking love being around you. and i know that... i know that shit started to get a little blurry for me. probably a few months ago. i-- you know, i just... i don't really feel like i'm pretending anymore." he blinks and you can see the nerves on his body. it's what leads you to cross the room towards him and take his hand in yours. "is that... is that what you want?"

"steve," you whisper. "you got a letter in the first place because when i was fifteen i was crazy about you. and i think... i think i've always been a little crazy about you. so... yes. that's what i want."

gentle fingertips trace down your jaw. "i guess not much changes, anyway." he smirks a little. "we've been dating for..."

"three months. two days." you shrug your shoulders as his eyes widen. "i pay attention, i guess..."

steve laughs and he brings you in by the waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "that's my girl." he goes quiet. "i'm gonna miss you. i was always gonna miss you, but... you know, indianapolis isn't far. i'll come and visit. you'll come home for holidays. we'll... we'll be fine."

your fingers run through steve's hair. "i'm gonna miss you too. what you said earlier? about me being your best friend? you're mine too."

he squeezes your waist and it wrings another smile out of you. steve makes you hopelessly lovesick, in the best of ways.

--

steve ended up driving up with you, helping you set up your dorm alongside your parents. and after you shed your tears when your parents left, after you anxiously paced the floor anticipating the moment that steve would have to leave. "hey, hey, hey," steve finally says, stopping your movements. "i have something for you before i go."

you open your mouth and he shakes his head. "no, no. let me do this." from his back pocket, he procures a letter. complete with your dorm address and a cute stamp in the top right corner. he holds it out to you. "i want you to read this when you miss me most. not tonight-- tonight, i want you to go and have fun and make friends. your roommate seems cool. i'm talking, like, october." he pauses. "can you do that for me?"

your eyes shine with unshed tears. "steve..." it's practically a whimper. you look up at him and you say, "i love you."

wrapping himself around you, his hand rubs your back. "i love you too," he whispers into your ear. "never loved anyone like this before."

butterflies swarm in your stomach. and you still don't know how those letters got sent-- but you've never been so thankful for fate working its magic than you are for that letter being sent, and bringing steve to your doorstep on a warm may afternoon.

[blog-name-idk]

Mold a Pretty Lie | 09

Pairing: professor!Jin x Fem undergrad!Reader

Genre: College!AU, Unhealthy relationships, toxic relationships, virgin reader, eventual yandere, eventual smut

Summary: They say love is like a garden that requires regular care and attention. Kim Seokjin, your kind and handsome professor, is more than happy to cultivate the vines that bind his heart to yours.

Word Count: 5k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD! SORT OF DUBCON AHEAD! AHOYY!

~~~~~

AN: Thanks for being patient when I left the last chapter at such a critical point and then accidentally lied and said this one would be posted quickly! IRL things happen, brain things happen, but I hope y'all like this one and that it was worth the wait ehehe.

Er, this chapter is basically 100% smut. Sorry but also not really sorry.

~~~~~

You stared at him, mouth open in an adorable "o" as you processed your professor's words.

"I – I don't think I've read that study," you stammered, still holding his hand. Your face was a mixture of bewildered and hopeful that only made Seokjin want you more.

"Then maybe we need more first-hand data," he suggested, eyes fixed on yours to gauge your reaction. The air felt thick, and you slowly brought his hand up to your lips, just waiting for the moment he pulled it away and laughed or ruffled your hair.

The moment never came, and when you brushed your lips softly, tentatively over his bandaged palm, he let out a slow exhale that made you shiver.

"Good girl," he breathed, and your face snapped up to his as his words sent heat racing through your body. He noticed with satisfaction that your pupils had dilated at his words, and with his free hand he stroked your cheek and stared into your eyes. Time ceased to exist, and when he finally, finally leaned forward to capture your lips with his own, he could no longer remember why he had held himself back for so long.

It was perfect. You were perfect, soft and yielding and oh-so-sweet against his mouth.

"P-professor," you gasped, pulling backwards and looking at him with those wide, bewitching eyes he couldn't get enough of. He saw bliss warring with confusion in your expression, and decided now was not the time for the conversation you clearly wanted to have. He surged forward, kissing you more insistently now, and you melted into him with a soft whimper that sent heat sparking through his body.

Abruptly he stood up, taking you with him, but before you could recover your mental faculties he was on you again. You gave another sweet little gasp when he tugged your lower lip between his teeth, too caught up to realize he had begun to steer the two of you out of the bathroom.

When he licked into your mouth, you met his tongue clumsily, and he almost smiled at the desperate, confused noise that came out of your throat. Then the backs of your knees hit the bed, and you gave a yelp of surprise as you tumbled backwards.

"W-wait, professor," you stammered as he clambered over you. You were already looking wrecked, your lips swollen and begging to be devoured again. Fuck, why had he waited so long to do this?

"Seokjin," he ordered as he began to press soft kisses along your jawline. The little whimpers sounding from your throat were better than anything he had imagined, and he needed more. He needed everything.

"S-Seokjin," you whispered, hands going to his back, then hair, then neck as if you weren't sure what to do with them. Hearing his first name spill from your lips was enough to make him groan and grind his hips against yours, drawing out a pretty whimper that only added to the fire swirling in his gut.

He nibbled at the sensitive skin of your neck gently, careful not to leave any marks, and you let out another needy noise that made the monster inside of him grow ever larger. He hadn't expected you to be this sensitive. It was like you were made for him, and it was driving him wild.

Then, despite the roaring in his chest, he drew back.

"What is it, baby girl?" he crooned, brushing some hair out of your face. He watched your eyes go wide at the endearment, your lips part as you let out the tiniest gasp. His blood hummed in satisfaction. You liked that, did you?

"I - I don't know what I'm doing?" you managed, somehow managing to look both shy and needy at the same time, a blossom on the verge of unfurling its petals.

"I don't either," he admitted with a low chuckle, peppering your face with kisses that made you giggle sweetly beneath him. "But we can figure out what this means together, okay?"

"N-no," you stammered, making him stop short. He leaned back to rest on his knees, looking at you in confusion. No? How could you say that when you were beneath him already, so pliant and gorgeous, making those needy sounds?

"I've never done this sort of thing before," you said awkwardly, looking up at the ceiling so you didn't have to meet his eyes. "I don't know what I'm doing."

Seokjin stared at you for a moment as he let your words sink in. What exactly did you mean by "this"? Sex in a hotel bed? Making out with a professor? He certainly hoped that wasn't something you had done before.

His confusion must have been apparent, because you peeked at him through long lashes and winced in embarrassment.

"I–I only kissed someone for the first time this year," you admitted, humiliation clear on your face. Your fingers began twisting the fabric of your skirt as you looked down. "That's as far as I've ever gone."

Oh. Fuck.

Your confession should have put him off, yet his dick gave an insistent throb at your explanation. Did that make him a dirty old man? The thought of teaching you exactly what he liked, of learning what made you squirm, made his head swim. Though another tiny part of him raged and wondered if Taehyung was the one who had stolen your first kiss. And if there had been any others.

You shifted beneath him, expression heart-wrenchingly uncertain, and he realized he had spent far too long in his thoughts while you waited for his reaction. It was no matter – now that you were here in his arms, Seokjin would never let anyone else touch you again.

"Don't worry baby girl," he cooed, dipping forward again to cage your body in his arms. The way you shivered at the pet name made his veins sing, and he had to keep himself from finding what other reactions he could elicit. "We don't need to go any further, okay?"

Seokjin watched relief battle with desire in your eyes and felt a small thrill at the confirmation that it wasn't that you didn't want him, you just weren't ready. It endeared you more to him, that you were so nervous and yet so easily affected by his touch. He rolled off of you to lay on his back, tugging you so you were on top of him instead.

"Come here," he murmured, cupping the base of your neck to gently pull your lips against his. You situated yourself more comfortably atop him, legs spreading to straddle his hips, and you both moaned when his erection rubbed against your core.

"Oh," you sighed against him, rolling your hips to chase more of that heavenly friction.

"Do you like that, princess?" Seokjin groaned, hands making their way to your hips to press you more firmly against his groin. Your skirt had ridden up, and his eager fingers squeezed and rubbed at the soft, plush skin it exposed. His right hand twinged beneath your careful wrapping, but he barely felt it over the way you burned under his touch.

He swallowed your whimper with a hungry kiss that was much sloppier than before, devouring you while he rubbed you up and down his cock.

"Hnn, Seokjin," you whined against his mouth between kisses, breathless and panting as you rutted against him. Your hands scrunched the collar of his shirt as you clung to him, and he couldn't keep himself from thrusting up against the heat emanating between your legs. You gave a choked whimper that made him want to eat you alive before burying your face in his neck. "That feels – oh god –"

"Just like that, baby," he said hoarsely, turning his attention to the tantalizing expanse of skin you had exposed. He nipped and sucked at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, drawing out muffled gasps and moans that made him wish he could truly mark you up. Could show anyone who cared to look that you were his.

Through it all, you ground yourself against him, helped along by his strong arms. He was painfully hard at this point, but that didn't matter, not when you were so close to unraveling.

"Ohmygod," you gasped into his neck, and he felt your thighs tense around him as your pace began to falter. You began to pull away, voice ragged and bewildered. "I – what – "

"That's it," he panted, using his own arms to grind you down on him when your hips stuttered. You let out a tortured whine that made his entire body shudder, fingers digging into your hips so hard he thought you might bruise even through the layers of clothing.

"Seok-Seokjin," you choked, gripping his shirt so hard he thought it might rip. The look in your face was a mixture of panic and wild rapture, and Jin cursed as he crushed you harder against him. If just some dry humping destroyed you like this, how you would fall apart under his fingers and tongue?

"Fuck, so good for me, baby," he rasped, unable to tear his eyes away from you. You went rigid, eyes shooting open to meet his own. What he saw in them drove him wild, and even as you fell forward against his chest he raised his own hips to grind against you so hard he could feel your pussy pulsing against him even through his slacks.

"F-uuuuck," you gasped in a whine that made goosebumps stand on his arms. You sounded completely ruined, shuddering and quivering against him as he rubbed against your clothed entrance. He eased his vice-like grip on your hips as your whimpers began to cease, letting you rest atop him.

You breathed unevenly against his neck, hot puffs of air that made him want to ravish you properly. He clenched his teeth, stroking your hair gently to soothe his own hormones as much as you, trying to ignore the way your heat was still hovering just above his crotch.

"You okay?" he asked, feeling almost as wrecked as you looked when you pushed yourself up on shaky arms.

"Yeah," you breathed, surprise lacing your trembling voice, your eyes endless pools that beckoned like a siren's song. "I just… I didn't know… um, that was…"

You trailed off, looking embarrassed, and Seokjin felt another jolt travel south as realization sparked in his head.

"Baby," he began, eyes riveted to your adorable reaction at the pet name. "Have you never had a proper orgasm before?"

You hid your face at his blunt question, and Seokjin felt his lips twitch into a smirk. You shook your head wordlessly, and he let one hand trail across the soft skin of your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you relaxed into his touch, and he felt his chest squeeze.

His. Only his.

"Can I make you feel good too?" you asked, so quietly and hesitantly that he almost missed it. He almost choked as he registered your innocent-sounding words.

"Not this time, pretty girl," he replied, brushing your bottom lip with a reverent thumb. You pouted, pressing further into him. He could feel how wet you were, realizing your arousal had soaked through even his uncomfortably tight pants, and he tried to retain a sliver of morality. As intoxicating as this was, you were precious to him, not something to be used, no matter how sweetly willing you seemed to be.

"Today's been a lot," Seokjin insisted, as much to remind himself as you. He eased you a little off of him, because the alternative was to lose it and fuck you into the mattress. His dick ached in protest, but he did his best to ignore it. "I… I definitely got carried away."

"I see," you said quietly, voice barely audible as your face crumpled. Seokjin realized that you had taken his words as a rejection. You began to pull away, and he stopped you by cupping your cheeks in both hands.

"I didn't mean it like that," he murmured softly, staring into your glistening eyes and kicking himself for putting that hurt expression on your face. "You're just – I shouldn't feel this way."

You tried to shift away again, but he didn't let you move. He needed you to understand.

"I shouldn't be so happy to see you every day, or crave your smiles the way I do. I shouldn't be angry when I see boys look at you. It shouldn't drive me crazy when you look at someone the way I want you to look at me."

At this point your eyes were huge, full of hope.

"It's a terrible idea, but I want to make you mine anyway," he breathed, and pressed his lips against your own in a gentle kiss he broke away from before it could devolve into anything more.

"O-oh," you stammered, doe-eyed and shy and looking positively moonstruck. You sealed his fate, and your own, when your face broke into a smile. It dazzled his eyes, and the vines ensnaring his chest roared to life as if straining for the sunlight in your expression.

"I want that too," you admitted, your words sweeter than any nectar in the world.

"Then we'll figure this out together," he promised, before succumbing to the draw of your lips again. You melted into him with a sigh he had already grown addicted to, and he let himself drown, more than willing to be caught in the net you cast so unwittingly. Even if it meant dragging you down with him.

~~~~~

Lucidity seeped slowly into your consciousness, slightly hampered by the warmth behind you and the arm draped loosely over your waist. It came faster when you felt soft lips pressing feather-light kisses against your neck, and you let out a drowsy sigh that made the arm around you tighten.

"Good morning," came a low rumble that made your insides melt. Seokjin's lips on your neck grew a little more insistent now that he knew you were awake, and you let out an embarrassing sound when his hot, wet tongue dragged against the shell of your ear. Were ears supposed to feel this sensitive?

"Morning," you replied, your voice still thick with sleep and yet already humiliatingly breathy. Memories of how he had made you come undone so easily the night before flooded into your head, and you felt heat curl in your gut as he lazily traced patterns along your stomach just under the hem of the shirt you had worn to sleep.

"I could wake up like this every day," he murmured against your skin, making you shiver agreeably. The light drag of his fingertips along the soft skin around your navel was growing torturous and you snuggled flush against him, craving his warmth.

Then you felt your backside nestle comfortably against something hot and hard, and your face went molten.

"Careful, baby," he warned in a quiet growl that sent heat racing between your legs. You swallowed, feeling hot and fuzzy under his spell. His lips changed destination to drag and suckle just under your jaw and another whimper escaped you before you could clamp your mouth shut. Seokjin groaned behind you, burying his face in your hair.

"You can't make cute sounds like that," Seokjin groaned, burying his face in your hair as he tightened his arms around you. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

You gasped in indignation, pulling away and turning to face him with a scowl. How dare he say that when he was driving you to insanity with the simplest touches on your skin?

"You're the one who's…" you trailed off as you took in the full glory of a shirtless Kim Seokjin, all toned golden skin and messy bed-head. You had definitely peaked. You had never woken up next to a guy before and now this had to be your frame of reference?

"I'm…?" he asked, cocking his head and smiling at you. You blinked, realizing you were staring and immediately averted your eyes, feeling your face heat up the way it always seemed to when you made an idiot of yourself in his presence. He reached out to cup your cheek, gently tilting your head to face him.

"God, you are beautiful," he murmured in appreciation, making your whole body go hot as your mouth dropped open in a mixture of embarrassment and surprise. You wanted to doubt his words, considering you were still bleary eyed, your hair was probably a mess, and you were bare-faced and wearing just an oversized sleeping shirt and shorts. But his expression was so soft and earnest that you just swallowed and licked suddenly dry lips. His eyes followed the motion, their warmth heating to embers as he leaned in to kiss you.

"I – I have morning breath," you squeaked, before wishing you would just die. Really? You woke up next to your super hot professor, who still wanted to kiss you, and you told him about how gross your breath was? Seokjin just chuckled, bumping his forehead against your own.

"I don't care," he said simply, silencing any further protest by pressing his silky lips to yours. Any rational thought you might have had vanished as he pulled you closer, and you melted into his embrace. Time slowed to a slow, honey-like ooze as you drowned in Seokjin's touch, and when his tongue traced the seam of your lips you parted them obediently, eager for anything he had to offer.

You weren't exactly sure when you had thrown your leg over his hip, but when you felt his erection press firmly against your core you whined into his mouth. It felt so much better through the thinner cotton of his pajama pants and your shorts rather than yesterday's business clothes, even at this awkward angle. By Seokjin's agonized groan, he agreed.

"You're gonna get me fired," he breathed in a strained voice, pushing you a few inches back and holding you there by the shoulder. You pouted, frustrated and wondering what you could do to make him let you keep going. You didn't realize that your glassy eyes and kiss-bitten lips were more than enough to drive him crazy.

"You know I wouldn't," you protested, crossing your arms and pulling away to clamber off the bed in a huff. He chuckled at your actions, making you sulk further, and he got up to wrap his arms around you from behind. It was a simple gesture, but one that made your heart race.

"Not on purpose," he agreed, kissing your temple and making you melt in spite of yourself. "But you make it hard to control myself."

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Kim – Seokjin – rolled over you, caging you between his arms and legs and looking at you with so much heat in his eyes you wondered if you might catch fire. You stared back, pinned by the weight of the sheer want in his gaze.

"It means, you make it very difficult not to eat you alive, pretty girl," he growled, leaning down to give you a hard kiss that made your head spin. It was nothing like your kisses with Taehyung, which had sometimes gotten a little heated but lacked the purpose – the intensity – of Seokjin's.

Taehyung had made you feel warm and fluttery. Seokjin was fire and desire, like the two of you were all there ever were and ever would be.

"You really don't realize what you do to me, do you?" he panted, licking a long, wet stripe along your jaw as you clutched at his back. His hips moved against yours, his hard cock slotting perfectly against your entrance, and you whimpered helplessly beneath him, canting your hips upward so the tip of his tented pants hit your core dead on. If there hadn't been any fabric between, you imagined he might have actually entered you, and you both moaned at the sensation.

"Fuck," he hissed, biting into your shoulder, where your skin would be covered by your clothing later. You gasped and gave a little cry at the sharp sting, shocked at how the pain sent another jolt of pleasure between your legs. "You're really testing me."

"I c-can't help it," you whimpered as he thrust into you, his rigid head pressing your soaked underwear into your folds. You had never felt anything like this, never felt so utterly dizzy and consumed with heat, even more than last night. "Oh god, don't stop."

"Shit," he cursed, ramming harder against you and making you mewl and rut your hips against his. "Shit, you're so sexy."

That feeling in your gut surged, of want and need and wonder. No one had told you you were sexy before.

He ceased speaking in favor of littering your shoulders with nips and hard sucks that made you whine and buck harder against him, mindless of anything other than the rising tide of your pleasure. Seokjin's own pace grew harder and more frantic as your moans increased in volume, and as the heat began to crest you felt your eyes widen in alarm as that overwhelming sensation from last night loomed overhead.

"S-Seokjin, I can't, I – " you babbled, nails digging into his back, muscles tense as your voice got stuck in your throat. He continued to thrust hard against you, his voice a hard rasp as he pinched your nipple hard through your shirt.

"You can do it," he encouraged you hoarsely, rolling your pebbled bud between his fingers as your mouth fell open and moans spilled from your lips unbidden. "I'll take care of you, baby girl."

You went under with a wordless wail, hugging his back tight as he hissed and ground his cock hard against your folds. Your back arched as you pressed yourself against him, and through the ringing in your ears you vaguely heard him cursing as he sank his teeth into your shoulder in another vengeful bite.

"Fuckfuckfuck," he panted, still grinding himself against you as you shuddered and cried out beneath him. "Oh fuck baby, I'm gonna – "

With a loud groan, he drove himself against you one final time and you let out a little whimper as you felt his cock begin to pulse against you.

"Shit," he choked, burying his face in your neck as he spilled into his briefs, grinding himself against you as you squirmed beneath him. You gasped as white hot heat seeped through his pants, bucking your hips against his again even as you both hissed in oversensitivity.

"Jesus fucking christ," Seokjin groaned, hoisting himself to his elbows so he could kiss you properly. You giggled beneath him, feeling weak and giddy and fuzzy-headed, still in disbelief that any of this had really happened.

"That was… wow," you managed, trying to gather your thoughts into something more coherent. Seokjin grinned above you, settling his weight onto one arm so he could stroke your cheek gently. Your heart sang at the soft touch, the way he was treating you like the most precious thing in the world.

"You're pretty wow, yourself," he murmured, the warmth in his eyes soaking into your chest and spreading in a heady cloud through your limbs. "How are you feeling?"

"Sticky," you replied automatically, before blushing at your over-honest response. Instead of looking disgusted, Seokjin licked his lips and gave you a smirk that made your mind fuzz.

"Is that so?" he asked in a low voice, letting his hand trail down your shirt to the waistband of your shorts. Your head spun. What was he doing? "Mind if I check, baby?" Oh.

Before you could reply, his hand dipped into the fabric to cup you over your underwear and you flushed in embarrassment at how soaked the cloth must be.

"All for me?" he asked roughly, the feral look in his eyes making you forget your embarrassment as you felt more heat blooming in your gut. You gave a tiny, bashful nod before gasping as he pushed the fabric aside to drag wicked fingers against your folds.

"S-Seokjin," you whined, torn between embarrassment at this new, compromising situation and the desire for him to alleviate the ache he was causing between your legs. How was he doing this? Was it really this easy to reduce you to nothing but a quivering mess of want?

Seokjin loomed over you, broad and disheveled and so beautiful you still couldn't quite believe what was happening. Then he brought his fingers upward, using your arousal to stroke gently at your clit and you forgot any of your misgivings in favor of pressing your hips into his touch.

"So beautiful," he murmured, leaning in to press his lips against your temple, your cheek, your jaw. "So perfect for me."

Seokjin kissed you again, soft and slow but no less intense than before. You felt a finger press against your slit, and he swallowed your gasp of surprise as he breached your inner walls. You tensed, not having expected the intrusion, unsure of what to do but not wanting the moment to end.

"Fuck," he groaned against your mouth, unable to resist the urge to press into you even deeper. You couldn't speak, overwhelmed by the foreign sensation, the slight burn as your walls stretched to accommodate him. All you could do was grip the sheets in shaky hands, twisting them as your mind tried to catch up.

Seokjin swore again, kissing you hard as you trembled under his ministrations. The surprise was wearing off, as was the slight feeling of invasion, replaced by pulses of pleasure each time he curled his finger inside of you.

"Seokjin," you whimpered, wriggling your hips beneath him, willing to give him anything he wanted. He groaned and sat back, moving his gaze so he could watch your expression as your cunt swallowed his probing digit.

"No one's ever done this to you?" he asked roughly, sparing a glance upwards to meet your eyes. His own were dark and piercing, with a feverish glint you had never seen before.

"No," you whispered, half mortified but pinned into place by the intensity of his gaze. Seokjin licked his lips, a look of feral satisfaction crossing his face before he brought his thumb to stroke at your clit, making you gasp as your eyes fluttered shut.

"Does this feel good?" he asked, though the devious curve of his lips hinted that he already knew your answer. You nodded, not quite trusting your voice to function properly as he worked his way into you.

"That's my girl," Seokjin crooned darkly, leaning back over you to stroke your cheek, caging your body beneath his. He was all that existed, searing himself into your memory from the inside out, and when he withdrew his slick finger from your core he pressed it gently against your clit, making you cry out and buck against him.

"Oh god," you moaned as he used your wetness to caress your bud more aggressively. You reached for Seokjin, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring his lips to yours and he groaned as if he was the one being overwhelmed.

His rubbing was the sweetest torture, the pressure and friction unfurling that throb in your gut that grew and grew. Your cries and whimpers were muffled by the sloppy tangle of your tongue against his, and you felt like you were being dismantled piece by piece.

Your orgasm hit you like a hurricane, pleasure swirling around you like a torrent as you gasped into Seokjin's hungry mouth. He groaned, pressing his finger against your slit to feel it pulse as you went rigid beneath him, pleasure white hot under your skin.

You felt dizzy, like petals being tossed about in the wind, but little by little you came back to reality. Seokjin's warm body cradled yours like a cushion protecting you from a fall, and you gladly melted into his embrace.

"Beautiful," he murmured into your ear, his soft voice helping you settle your roots into the earth. He kissed your temple before resting on an elbow and gazing at you reverently, and you were too out of it to shy away from his eyes.

"I need a shower," you mumbled dazedly, suddenly aware of the layer of sweat coating your body now that your skin was cooling.

"Me too," agreed Seokjin, chuckling in amusement as he brushed some hair off your damp forehead. "Should we wash off together?"

His words brought you the rest of the way back to reality. You froze, eyes wide as your brain tried to process being naked in front of not just any man, but Kim Seokjin. Not just in front of him, with him. Despite his warm, affectionate gaze, you felt panic begin to rise in your veins. At the alarm in your eyes, he smiled softly and kissed your forehead, lips warm and gentle and so soothing you felt your nerves resettle.

"How about you go first?" he offered, and your chest squeezed at his thoughtfulness.

"Okay," you said, smiling gratefully at him and hoping he wasn't offended. "I – I want to, but – "

"Shh, it's okay baby," he interrupted, pressing his lips against yours again so sweetly you thought you might melt into a puddle. "I understand. We'll take things slow."

Was it too soon to be in love? You felt like the gooey warmth swelling from your chest couldn't be anything else, and the way he cradled your cheeks in his hands made you feel safe and protected. Your lashes fluttered shut as his lips molded to yours, basking in his slow, deliberate touch.

You knew that eventually real life would intrude in this wonderful bubble, but for now, wrapped in Seokjin's arms, everything was perfect.

~~~~~

Next | Masterlist

Tags: @moonleeai @random-and-out-of-context @amenjiminsan @innebulae @seoqity @lilacdreams-00 @chowb @shescharlie @mazmaz30 @definetlythinkimanalien @seokjins-luigi @lucci-girl @xicanacorpse @bighitbabie @8loominghell @jung-nika-hoseok @staradorned @zealouslightcookiebasketball @kissme-ornot @dyhrbls @nabiolive @xyahrinx

[succcession]

Not Another Weekend Out

Kendall Roy x f!reader (smut) 1.8k words

AN: this is my first story ya'll go easy, but its simple soft dom Kendall stuff so I hope you all enjoy♡

Lately it had felt like every weekend with your boyfriend Kendall Roy meant you spent the night walking into some abandoned looking warehouse in Queens. Or occasionally a glamorous but to be honest, boring night club in Soho. 

Where did he even find these parties? You thought to yourself as you strapped on your high heels, mentally preparing for another night of being Kendall’s arm candy. 

Kendall wasn’t always like this though. Of course, you were well aware of your boyfriend’s heavy partying “habits”. In your first month of dating, he showed up to your apartment three times in the middle of the night. High off of a combination of god knows what, reciting Harvard level love poems at your window. You soon realized the parties were just a part of the Kendall package. 

However, it felt like for a minute you two had started to get truly…close! He began taking you to five star restaurants as opposed to the typical nightclub. Updating you about his schedule, sending “I miss you texts”. You two even had a weekly ritual of falling asleep to 90s cartoons! He had been working out more and doing cocaine less. Why the sudden shift backwards? Was it all in your head? Is he really just a rich, party addicted, man child? Your anxious thoughts began to spiral as you stared at your reflection in his grandiose bathroom mirror. 

“Fucking Beautiful” your mental spiral was interrupted by the grasp of Kendall’s arms squeezing tightly around your waist while placing soft kisses down your neck. 

He seemed to instantly notice the fake smile you put on and the slight sigh that left your lips. Kendall could always tell when you were upset. It was like he was an expert at reading your body language after years of navigating his complex family. 

The Tom Ford suited man turned you around to face him and his soft hands lifted your chin up to meet his eyes. “What’s up? What are you thinking?” He expressed flatly.

“Nothing Ken, I just-“ his lips instantly, forming into a frown. While his almost angelic eyes remained softly looking down at you.

God, he looks so hot when he pouts, you thought. You considered for a moment just forgetting everything. Saying fuck it and just going out. But you were genuinely starting to fall for Kendall and it seemed important at that moment to tell him how you felt.

“I just don’t think I feel like going out tonight” you said, doing your best to sound sweet as opposed to disappointing. 

“Oh uhh yeah well” Kendall stumbled. 

“I was hoping to maybe spend time with just you Ken…” you smiled up at him, reaching for his tie to pull him closer for a soft peck. Kendall quickly deepened the peck wrapping his arms lower around your body and stepping closer to trap you between him and the bathroom counter.

“Mm look at you, so cute and needy for me” Kendall said, as his hand moved up your back, grabbing a handful of your hair and gently tilting your head back to leave soft kisses on your neck. “You know… if you want me. You should be a good girl and just tell me.” Kendall whispered in your ear. His harsh kisses along your collarbone paired with his words cause a soft moan to slip from your mouth. 

Kendall took a slight step back holding your face in his hands. Your lips both parted and nearly brushing against each others as he looked down at you. 

“Tell me what you want y/n.”

A soft breath left your mouth before you stumbled to get the words out.

 “I..mm. I want you Kendall. Right now” This wasn’t exactly how you intended for this conversation to go but you definitely weren’t upset at his reaction.

“Good girl” Kendall softly drew the words out in response. 

Pulling you closer yet again into another deep kiss. The intensity of his lips against yours increased along with the butterflies in your stomach. The way he seamlessly switched between gently caressing you, as if he was too rough you would break. To devouring every inch of your body with kisses and love bites. Squeezing your ass, gripping your hips and thighs, his hands were everywhere. Before they eventually landed on your dress zipper. The room filled with heavy breaths and sighs, your clothes feeling more like a barrier every second.

 As Kendall began roughly pulling your dress down your body, your hands swiftly reached up to begin loosening his tie. His large hands quickly interrupted yours, enclosing around your fingers, roughly bringing your hands back to your side and behind your back as he spun you around. Faced again with your own reflection in the mirror. Although, this time instead of negative thoughts of Kendall, only the thought of his tongue carelessly licking your clit filled your mind. Kendalls dark eyes stared into your reflection as his hands journeyed down your body. His rough finger brushing over your clit, stopping to draw light circles as he toyed with the hem of your lace thong. 

His hands slowly slipping underneath the fabric made you gasp and drop your head down. Kendall was quick to object to that reaction, roughly grabbing your face with one hand, returning your eyes to his hard gaze. 

“I want you to watch yourself cum for me” “okay?” Kendall firmly demanded while slipping your thong down your thighs. 

“Yes..please.. I want to cum for you” you managed to get out as you felt Kendall's middle finger begin to slowly slip into your pussy. His solo finger easily slid in and out and Kendall quickly added in a second. You could feel your wetness spreading as it slowly began to coat the inside of your thighs.

 Kendall was nearly shocked by how quickly you were ready for him. Your soft walls were already beginning to tighten around his fingers, and the lewd echo of your dripping cunt was almost too much for him as his growing cock strained against his pants. But he couldn’t help but tease you a little more.

“God this little pussy is so fucking wet for me. Do you really need my cock that bad?” 

“Mm- yes Ken..please” You pleaded with him. One of Ken’s biggest turn ons was begging, and at this point you wanted to rile him up. His aggressive yet tender tone behind all his words was driving you crazy. You could feel your pussy throbbing, needing more than just his fingers inside you.

“I want to cum all over your cock! God, please ken… fuck me!”

Kendalls hands withdrew from your body as he began undoing his belt, and lowering his dress pants.

“Sh sh sh” Kendall hushed into your ear before leaning down to spit on your pussy. Rubbing the head of his dick in between your folds.

 “How do you still sound so fucking innocent while your begging me to fuck your little pussy?” 

Kendall couldn't hold back his moans as looked down at his dick spreading your wetness, from your slit to your sensitive clit. His teasing was growing unbearable and you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing your ass further back, closer to Kendall. This was quickly met with a hard slap on your ass. The whimper that left your mouth nearly sounded pathetic. 

Kendall began pushing the thick tip of his dick painfully slowly into your pussy. His head dropped to fall against your shoulder and you could feel deep breaths leave his body as he tried not to already cum in your tight pussy. God, the way you stretched around his length slowly squeezing every inch of his dick made him feel like your pussy was made for him. Like you were made just for him. To hold, and kiss and fuck however he wanted.

Kendall pulled out slowly before roughly snapping his hips forward slamming against your ass. He kept this slow yet aggressive pace as his hands made their way up your body and to your tits. He gently pinched your nipples, squeezing the small buds between his fingers. Earning multiple high pitched squeals from you encouraging him to quicken the rate at which he was thrusting into you. 

“Omg Kendall, your cock feels so good inside me, so fucking good” you moan.

 “Oh look at you. You take my cock so fucking good baby don’t you? Mm fuck, look at how pretty you look while you get fucked. God, you make me so fucking happy baby” 

His patronizing tone echoed in your head and you continued doing your best to maintain eye contact with Kendall in the mirror. It was turning you on even more watching yourself become undone for him. Mascara beginning to run down your face as Kendall continued roughly fucking into you. 

You could feel your eyes rolling back as that familiar warmth of your coming orgasm grew in your pussy and Kendall could feel your release coming as you tightened around him. He watched as your attention from him began to fall as you came close to finishing. But he was going to make sure you watched yourself cum all over cock and grabbed a handful of your hair and roughly pulled down returning your gaze to your reflection. 

“Aw don’t look away now baby. You were being such a good girl for me. Don’t you want me to let you cum all over my cock princess?” he says. The final pet name made you shiver “Yes Ken, please I am going to cum. Please let me cum on your cock” you cry out clenching around him. Your voice, so desperate and needy, whining for his permission to let go. 

“Mm cum, cum for me baby.” He praises in your ear, leaving soft kisses on your temple. Still maintaining his brutal pace. Desperately, your hands grip the bathroom sink in front of you feeling your hips involuntarily grinding backward onto Kendall as you feel yourself pulsing around him, milking his hard cock. “Good girl, my good fucking girl” he praises you through your orgasm, all the breath and weight leaving your body. Kendall’s thrust gains aggression before finally stuttering as he finishes into you deeply, dropping nearly all of his weight onto your back.

Kendall hovers above you for a moment letting out deep breaths, staying deep inside of you. Now coming down from your high, you study your two reflections in the mirror. How, Kendalls arms are wrapped so tightly around you. The feeling of his chest rising up and down against you with every breath. You wanted to savor this moment. Hold onto the feeling of him pressed so close against you for when he was gone again.

Eventually Kendall slowly pulled out of you with a soft sigh, peppering kisses along your neck. “I’ve been doing some thinking. And uh.. I think we should stay in more weekends”. 

[adaptacy]

Pre-drabble :)

the gears are turning. they are turning. they are SO turning. the fanfic brain is working. and leland is my next target (/pos). so here's a prequel drabble to something that hasnt even been written yet!

Cw: they're so fucking cringe and in love ugh i can't eyeroll (i can)

Survivor!Leland x Afab!Reader (third person)

There was something about her smile. Something so sweet. So innocent. Reminded him of the girls in college. The ones who were in sororities, who'd never faced any sort of trouble- a shiny, practically gleaming, shimmering smile. The kind of smile that your childhood best friend would have.

He could remember a time when he smiled like that. Untouched by the world. Practically on top of the world. He didn't see that kind of smile anymore. He'd stopped seeing them years ago. Stopped searching for them.

He still tried to give that kind of smile, to wear his classic cheesy grin, but people knew, and people talked. People didn't believe his smiles, so he'd stopped giving them. But he was smiling now. Not a toothy grin, but he was smiling. And she was talking, and rambling about a childhood story, and he could've listened forever.

"Oh, there I go again. I'm sorry, what was your question?" She laughed, scratching the right side of her neck.

Leland shook his head. "That's alright, it was a good story. I just wanted to know if you had any extra bags," he asked, looking down at the small container hooked onto her hip, and she nodded.

"Yeah, of course!" She reached into the container, removing a thing plastic film. He took it from her, slipping it into his pocket. "Is he a rescue?"

The man looked down at the gray dog by his ankle, who wagged his tail and looked back up at his owner. "Yeah, he is. Harrier?" He asked, motioning towards the white and brown dog by her side. Her jaw dropped, and she scoffed, pressing a hand to her chest.

"Damn! You're good. Most people assume she's a beagle mutt. How'd you know?" She asked, and he shrugged.

"Been 'round a lotta dogs. You start to pick things up."

"Do you work with them or something?"

"Uh, you could say that, yeah. I help out at a shelter sometimes," he chuckled. "May I?"

"Yeah, totally. She's super friendly," she giggled. Both of them knelt down, and she ran her palm over the mutt's head, and then her fingers came underneath the bottom of his jaw, scratching underneath his neck. "Oh, he's precious," she cooed, her smile somehow growing at the interaction.

He was staring, and he looked back at the Harrier in front of him, who tenderly sniffed his hand. The smaller dog seemed hesitant, and he took his time, only patting her head when he was sure she wouldn't be caught off guard by it. His head tilted, finding the dog somewhat familiar. "Is she a rescue, too?"

"Yeah, I got her about a year ago," the girl replied, letting out an umph as Jacs' head slammed into her shoulder, demanding more pats.

"Jacs, easy," he commanded, but the dog seemed to have caught onto the same magnetism that he did. She didn't complain, simply gave him a kiss on his snout and rubbed along his neck. "Is she from the shelter on the corner of Hansen?"

She looked over at him, and both of them realized how close they were. He took a small step backwards with his knees, and she merely looked away, returning her attention to Jacs. "Yeah, she is. Why?"

"That's where I volunteer," he chuckled. "Kelly, right?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "No way. I mean- yes, but I couldn't let them get away with giving a dog such a human name. Her name's peanut," she giggled, and he couldn't seem to take his smile off of his lips.

It wasn't long before his smile was on your lips too, enjoying the small vibrations of your giggles against his mouth. It drew laughter- real, genuine laughter from him, and you lay on his chest, your head turning to glance at the two dogs on one large dog bed, curled up against one another. There was quiet country music coming from a stereo in the kitchen, filling the air with a sort of domestic tranquility.

"Lee?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"I think we should move in together," you said, and his heart fluttered at the thought. He didn't reply immediately, so you continued. "It's just- Peanut and Jacs get along really well, and my lease will be up soon anyways, I mean, not that I need to move in with you, I can always find somewhere else, but-"

"I'd love to," he assured, running his hand up your back. You smiled again, your charming, impossibly sunny smile, and he wanted to kiss you, but he feared that he'd ruin the smile. So instead, he brushed his nose against yours, and you giggled once more.

You suddenly sat up, rolling off of his body and darting into the kitchen, turning the knob on the stereo. "Sing it, Glen!" You laughed, cranking the volume up loud enough that the dogs woke up, stirring from their sleep. Leland sat up, watching as you twirled your way over towards him, outstretching a hand.

He took it, and you yanked him off of the couch, holding it as you twirled.

"Get a house in the hills, you're payin' everyone's bills," you sang, and Leland laughed, joining in with you.

"Country boy, you got your feet in L- Ow, Jacs," Leland grunted, stumbling on his feet as the large dog pawed at him, his tail harshly wacking into Lee's ankle. Peanut barked, jumping up, and you reached down, picking up the dog and twirling with her. Jacs barked, and Leland reached down, rubbing the dogs head, laughing as he did so.

Peanut was placed back onto the floor, and Leland held out a hand, which you took without hesitation. The two of you danced together for a while longer until the song came to a close, and Leland pulled you in close, simply hugging you, appreciating you. And you hugged him back, your hands sliding up his back, but you heard his breath hitch, and you moved them back down.

His smile was soft, and you gave him a gentle squeeze. Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, he let out a gentle "I love you so much, baby."

"I love you too, Lee," you replied, enjoying his warmth for a while longer before you finally pulled away. "Dinner?"

"Hmm... Grilled cheese?" He asked, and you nodded.

"Sounds great."

[mustlovesteve]

laughing at the broken glass

AO3 link

Summary:

In which Steve Harrington stumbles upon a vampiric Eddie Munson and makes some questionable decisions, including locking Eddie in his basement. Though Eddie isn't thrilled with this arrangement, he seems awfully excited to watch vampire movies with his captor. Steve is determined to not lose anyone this time, but with Vecna seeking out new prey, he might just lose himself.

my friend @spicy-cannoli drew some lovely fanart of my fic, laughing at the broken glass. i decided to share them alongside relevant scene excerpts (w/ her permission of course)! fyi, she doesn't draw steddie, so don't follow her for that.

these naturally include spoilers (for chapters 14-23 specifically), so i'm putting the rest of them behind the cut.

from Chapter 14 (15th uploaded chapter including the prologue):

“Heeeeey, Ste— What the fuck?” Eddie leapt back when the coywolf bounded towards him with a loud squeal. His efforts to dodge were futile. The nail-bat clattered against the pavement as the coywolf tackled him and sent him sprawling backwards. She licked at Eddie’s face, muffling the rest of his complaints. “Oh, so you’re going to pretend you don’t know who that is,” Steve said, letting the sarcasm drip from his voice. He leaned back against the door and took a bite of the garlic knot. “That’s real cute, Munson.” Eddie looked up at him, eyes wide and arms spread out like a starfish. “She sure knows who you are.” “Steve, what the hell is this thing?” Eddie questioned. He shoved the coywolf off him and scrambled to his feet. Nose wrinkled in disgust, he tried to wipe the slobber off his face. “Jesus. I’d ask if you spontaneously adopted a dog this morning, but this is not a dog!” “Good catch,” Steve said. He took another bite of the garlic knot and gestured with it as he spoke. “Hey, question for you. Remember what I told you to not even try to do? That power you might have?” Eddie’s eyes kept darting between Steve and the coywolf. His absolutely baffled expression would have been funny if Steve wasn’t so ticked off right now. “Did you happen to try using it last night? To, I dunno, find someone, maybe?” “I still don’t know what—” With another squeal, the coywolf trotted back to Steve. She looked over at Eddie, yip-howled, tried to tug Steve towards Eddie by the hem of his sweatpants, looked over at Eddie again, and yip-howled again. “Well, she found me,” Steve deadpanned. It shouldn’t have felt so satisfying to witness the slowly-dawning horrified realization spreading across Eddie’s face, but it did. Steve finished the garlic knot and crossed his arms. “Y’know what time she came by? Four-thirty.”

-

from Chapter 20 (21st uploaded chapter including the prologue):

Dustin kept mentioning that Eddie was being way too nice in explaining the rules and that it was freaking him out. Mike seemed to be pissed off as soon as he saw Steve and grew livid over the span of the first hour. Max, who had refused to explain why she’d chosen to show up today, was steadily amused throughout, while Lucas became increasingly confused. Erica went from curious to delighted. Will was acting the strangest among them, with flashes of sadness that seemed unfitting for someone who was finally playing DND with his friends again. That giant wizard hat that he was wearing made it all the more jarring. The kids didn’t act this strange the whole time. For the most part, they were all pretty absorbed in Will’s game, Steve included; Will was really good at drawing everyone in as he weaved his tale. The strangeness primarily happened whenever Eddie tried to explain something to him, or whenever the kids looked at Steve, even though—he could not emphasize this enough—he wasn’t doing anything. “Okay, why is everyone acting all weird?” Steve finally asked, when the game had wrapped up. Beside him, Eddie coughed. “Yeah, I’m here. Shocking, I know. Get over it. I was already here anyway.” Tilting his head and tipping ever so slightly towards Eddie, Steve added, “Eddie’s the only one acting normal, actually.” “He’s acting normal, huh?” Max asked, narrowing her eyes. “Interesting.” Rather than slip on one of her usual smug looks, she paused before biting her lip and looking away. “I mean, that’s—” “I don’t think he’s acting normal at all,” Dustin insisted, pouting. He leaned towards Eddie and pressed his palms against the table. “Eddie, why won’t you be that nice to me? Is it because I didn’t let you drink my blood? Because that’s really unfair. I would have, you know.”

-

from Chapter 23 (24th uploaded chapter):

Steve stared at Eddie, slack-jawed. That question was completely incomprehensible. He wasn’t even sure it was in English. “What the fuck is a doghouse?” Steve asked. “Oh fuck.” Eddie looked horrified, clutching the sides of his head. “Fuck. But I didn’t even…” “Wait, no.” Steve squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “I know what a doghouse is.” “Oh. Okay. That’s...good.” Eddie lowered his hands, which were still shaking, to his sides. “I— Shit. Uh. Hang on.” Eddie was gone in a flash, leaving Steve alone in the bedroom.

-

BONUS:

once again, all of the art was created by @spicy-cannoli, and my fic can be found here!

[slayerchick303]

In honor of Pride, here are some more of my Queer as Folk hot takes:

I hate the Jenny Rebecca custody battle storyline. For one thing, it's tedious as hell. Also, I don't believe Ben would support Michael in that bullshit. Ben is all about balance and everything in moderation. There's no way he would be like, "We know these 2 women are good mothers, but because they're no longer a couple, that makes me and Michael more qualified to have custody of JR." Like, no. When Hunter's mother came back, he was all set to send Hunter back to her without a custody battle before learning how she abused Hunter. Him supporting Michael in the fight for Jenny Rebecca makes no sense.

The way the show resolved Ted's self-esteem problems sucked. They literally made him have to have cosmetic surgery to have any confidence. It would've made more sense for Ted to have overall better mental health and realize his self-worth after becoming sober and having therapy. It would've been a much healthier message for society, too.

The show making Drew Boyd gay was stupid. The guy is obviously bisexual. He says he has sex with a million women as well as men. He also says he's attracted to and loves his female fiancee while he's having an affair with Emmett. He's not gay. Making him, as well as Hunter and Lindsay, binary sexualities is bi erasure and is straight up nonsensical.

Michael is often an asshole in season 5, and I hate how judgemental his character becomes. Yes, it's good that Michael doesn't bend over backward to defend Brian as much when Brian would never do the same for him. Especially since Michael often shielded Brian from criticism from others when Brian's choices frequently went against Michael's own values. A moment I especially hate is when Michael and Brian are fighting in the empty Babylon when Brian is trying to convince Michael to drop the custody battle for JR, because it'll fuck over Lindsay (which Brian is totally right about). Michael says that Brian needs to grow up because Brian doesn't want a monogamous relationship, to get married, or to have children. It's fucking bullshit. Brian is not childish for not wanting those things. Brian calls Michael out on being a judgemental, sanctimonious, twat. Michael used to defend Brian for having different desires for his life because Brian's wants are 100% valid. When Michael gets married, moves to the suburbs, and has JR/fosters Hunter, he becomes this dick who thinks that if you don't have the same priorities as him, you're immature. That's a horrible belief and a total change from the accepting person he used to be.

There could have been a much better ending to Ted revenge fucking the guy (Troy) who pity fucked Ted as a Pride "gift" in season 2. Ted's initial plan to tell Troy he's Ted's pity fuck now is awesome, and Ted falling for him is 100% on brand for Ted's character. Troy continuing to be an asshole and them breaking up, despite both genuinely liking each other in the show, makes me a little sad. I have an idea for a much better end for them. Troy immediately boasts to Ted about his hobby of sleeping with "losers" as a joke in the show and that he did it to someone in Ted's building (not realizing it was actually Ted himself). Instead of what the show did, as Troy and Ted spent more time together, Troy could have seen how well Ted treated people. It could've made Troy realize that what he used to do was really shitty. We could've even seen Troy run into one of his pity fucks earlier on his own and apologize, saying that he was horrible, lead the guy on, was sorry, and hoped the guy found someone who saw how great he was. Troy could've expressed to Ted that being with him made Troy want to be a better person (because Ted does that for essentially everyone in his life by being so supportive and kind, especially after getting sober). It would've been amazing for that final night at Babylon to go a different way. Emmett could still come up to ask if Ted had dumped Troy yet, only to realize Ted had fallen for him. Then, instead of what the show did, all of them could've seen Troy apologize to the random guy he wronged who came up to him about Troy ditching him. It would've been great if Troy said after that that he wished he could find the guy he did the same thing to in Ted's building so he could apologize to that guy too, and that Ted had inspired him to take accountability. The gang could see Ted admit that he was Troy's pity fuck there. Troy could sincerely apologize in front of everyone and say he'd understand if Ted never wanted to see him again and/or if all of Ted's friends hated him. The gang could give Ted and Troy their blessing, and Ted and Troy could end up together. After all, Ted's friend group forgave people for MUCH worse behavior (i.e. Blake nearly killing Ted).

What are your Queer as Folk unpopular opinions? Tag me in your post or put them in a reblog if you do this. Here is PART TWO:

[grandromeo]

Tilted Crown

Clarissa x Preston x TeT Group: 

This takes place after and during episode 23 (altering it a lil myself), things to note if you haven't listened already; Preston and Clarissa have changed their appearance. So if you don't fuckkking know like a nerd, go give them a fuuuuckin listen buddy. (also adding in previous oneshot shit because I can) ~~~

When Preston stuttered when he asked her to cut his hair, a smile twitched on the side of her mouth before she nodded her head, of course she would do it, this was different from the dance with Preston awhile back, Preston wasn't stuttering back then and it was something else to look at for a change. When she finished his hair she felt proud of herself, no chunks of hair were forgotten and was the same length, a proud piece of work. Preston smiled at her when he noticed her in the reflection of the war hammer, her new look was something to get used too, he was used to the dyed platinum, now he was staring at the void color of black hair, her eyes seemed to be distant, and his smile faltered. 

'I'm so sorry,' he thought to himself, she wasn't even looking directly at his reflective eyes, she was off in her own thoughts, he set down the war hammer and turned around to look directly at her, "thank you," he said as he placed a hand on her shoulder her black locks brushing the tips of his fingers before he dropped his hand. 

"Oh, yeah, of course," Clarissa's voice drew back and she gave a false smile, one empty of emotion, none of this was okay and he knew that. 

"Can I ask for another favor?" Preston asked. 

"Sure" 

"Can you tie it back?" When Clarissa nodded again, her dominant hand reaching for a hair tie around her wrist before she using a spinning motion and looked at Preston with gentleness. 'got you' he thought as he spun on his heel and sat back down, at first the feeling was startling, her white nails raking through his hanging curls before his head went tugging backward following the motion before his back hit Clarissa's hips to which Preston straightened up and tensed up with awareness that he had relaxed, "sorry." 

Clarissa looked down at the top of Preston's head and tilted her head with a bit of confusion before she let out a gentle chuckle or realization, but she ignored it, her nanny used to tie her hair back growing up, so she understood the motion, once again she raked her fingers through his hair. 

One.

Two.

Three.

Clarissa ran her fingers over his freshly shaven undercut causing him to shiver against the touch, something Clarissa didn't understand as she just wanted to move his hair higher up to show the entire masterpiece she accomplished. 

Four. 

With all his curls gathered, Clarissa tied his hair back and smiled softly, "sorry" she said before stepping back and once again Preston lifted the war hammer and looked at his reflection before noticing her. Standing up once again Preston stepped closer to Clarissa, this time, for the first time, she didn't step back when he approached her, instead, her eyes followed his movement until he was standing directly in front of her, and she had to look into his eyes. 

"Yes?" she asked with a sort of stubbornness slipping across her tone. 

"Thank you, Clarissa," he said as he bent down ever so slightly and kissed the side of her cheek before heading up to the Harriet Mongoose. 

Clarissa stood still before she blinked toward Preston, 'what the fuck was that?' 

~~~

After episode 23. 5 months later (tw: mention of self death) 

Clarissa inhaled, she was tailing the group as they walked through the desert, the heat becoming worse slowly, and her leg becoming heavier with each step, they were walking to another "side quest" Preston liked to call it, and this time he was taking charged, ever since the Abolith accident, Preston became more of a leader, Scott and Dex came closer together as friends, and Clarissa kept wearing her mask. 

Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown after all. And her crown was tilting sideways, she noticed that Prestons undercut had grown out quite a lot since the first time she had cut it and the curls became tighter, he was due another hair service once they got into the next town, she had also noticed that, even if he was trying to hide himself, his body seemed to have more tone to it as his shoulders tightened with each step. Shaking her head, Clarissa shook herself out of her daze, though she wished she had stayed in it, as the pain returned and she couldn't help but grab onto Scotts's arm and pull him back from walking behind Dex. 

"Yes Mommy Rizz?" Scott said with a joking chuckle at the nickname they all gave her shortly after her looks changed. 

"Hey you guys cool if I hang back for a bit to catch my breath once we reach a shady spot?" Clarissa asked and Scott looked around, 20 more minutes tops and they'd be in an oasis, Scott shrugged his shoulders before helping her walk to the forest. 

"I don't see why not, after all I bet that leg gets annoying sometimes," Scott said with no thought on how it truly felt. 

"You have no idea," Clarissa chuckled softly. 

Before long, the group made it to the oasis and Clarissa let out a sigh of relief as they stepped on different textured ground, her legs no longer feeling like jello from walking on a flat and slippery route. She leaned herself against the edge of the tree as Scott let go of his hold on her, "you sure you'll be okay?" Scott asked and Clarissa nodded her head. 

"I don't see why not, you've got wings, once you get to the location fly back and we can head out together and meet up with Dex and Preston afterward, I think that seems like a fair plan, right?" Clarissa shot the question out as she dug her nails into the bark of the tree with one hand and tightened her fist at her side with the other. 'Go away Scott,' she thought, 'leave me alone.'

Scott looked at her with questionable eyes before nodding his head at the sound of logic, "I'll let the others know," he said and Clarissa knelt down as Scott ran off toward the others. 

Preston looked toward Clarissa once Scott told them the plan, he couldn't seem to disagree with the statement, it was a forty-five minute walk to the next town over, and she was looking right at him, her multi-colored eyes holding a hazy distant gleam, but also one of reassurance. "We'll be back!" Preston shouted and Clarissa nodded her head. 

'we'll?' her eyes snapped to confusion, but before she could correct Preston she noticed that they where gone. "Thanks Tony," she whispered as she laid her legs flat in front of her as she looked up at the large leaves creating shade over her body, looking around once more, she finally lifted up her right pant leg, the black war forged prosthetic leg hissing softly as steam sputtered out of gaps between gears, her eyes teared up as she mindlessly smacked her head back against the tree as she balled up her fists in anger and felt around for the closest rock before she picked it up and threw it against whatever it would hit, and it did hit something, the victim was a growing shrub, taking on injuries around its core.

Clarissa looked down at her leg as her eyes traced the metal that meshed with skin, her eyes taking in every little bit of detail of the covered brass. The whole reason she even wore pants anymore was because she couldn't stand the hideous metal, and without realizing it until she saw her, Clarissa casted Echo, "I should have died." she inhaled as she felt her breaths begin to heavy, her echo tilting it's head, "I... I'm this disgusting...metal...pretend everythings okay... scared... little girl." Clarissa felt her body growing more tired as the heat finally caught up to her. Clarissa looked at her echo's leg and then at her own, "will I return like this? Will my parents really see me like this?" she questioned before a pained smile formed on her lips, and then a bitter laugh escaped her as she looked up once again at the leaves as her vision blurred as hot tears rolled down her cheeks, "who am I kidding they don't care about me," she laughed sarcastically. Heat spread around her lower thigh as she heard the hissing get louder and the gears starting to slow down, her leg becoming heavier to feel and number by the second, everything around it felt like she was on fire, the same feeling that was so dim when the leg was first introduced, after Nibs had fixed her. 

She didn't even want to be fixed. 

She didn't ask for this to happen. 

She didn't want this. 

She didn't want to be here. 

She was her own enemy. Clarissa Coldshore. The scared, little girl. 

With boiling anger and pain from both the leg and ruidium, the blood curdling scream escaped both her echo's lungs as well as her own, doubling in disables, as she let everything she had bottled up, let loose until there was nothing left but darkness.

The scream was so loud Dex's hands covered his ears as he fell to his knees, holding onto his ears with a pained expression spread across his lips, Scott and Preston both noticed Dex as he was now in front of them and then turned back toward the Oasis, they had walked maybe twenty-five minutes from the Oasis. Dex shot up immediately after as he shoved past the two and back to the place they had just left, "Wait Dex! What's wrong!?" Scott shouted as Preston followed. 

"Clarissa... She's in trouble," Dex said quickly finding no other time to commit to a conversation as he rushed back to the Oasis. No hesitation. 

As soon as their shoes collided with the mixture of grass and sand they noticed Clarissa's echonite dissolve in thin air and Clarissa's body fall from off the tree and onto the ground. "Clarissa!" Preston shouted as he ran toward the girl, Scott and Dex on his heels before they all landed harshly to their knees beside her. 

"Clarissa?" Scott said softly as he grabbed her wrist to find her pulse and when he felt one, it was slow and yet hard to find, Scott quickly casted Shape Water in front of them before he looked toward Dex who stood frozen with shock, "Go get water quickly," he said, "I'll help, Preston stay here with her if she wakes up" Scott spoke and Preston did so, kneeling down beside her head before he subconsiously ran her fingers through her hair, his fingers ever so slightly touching her horns as he did so. He looked down at her before he removed her  leather jacket and inhaled before he grabbed onto his dagger and looked at the girl one more time as he slid down to her legs. 

"Kill me when you wake up, but I'm sorry in advance," he whispered, as he grabbed onto her pant leg and pulled it away from her skin as he made a cut and turned her pants into shorts on either leg, he then removed her shoes. As soon as he did that, Scott and Dex returned with bottles full of water. 

"Dude!" Dex shouted, "you can't just undress a girl like that," he joked under pressure to which he earned himself a glare from the tall individual.

"Joke or not, Preston actually did what we needed done," Scott said as he undid the cap of water and knelt down beside Clarissa before he picked her up and against the tree once more before he gently grabbed onto her jaw and opened her mouth enough to fit the water bottle in, "Dex pour some water on her wrists, feet, and... y'know..." Scott muttered the last bit to the cat as Preston went to the water that Scott had conjured to fill his own water to help. 

Dex raised a brow at Scott and snorted, "alright, boy scout," Dex said as he did as followed, "you think she'll kill us when she wakes up?" he asked. 

"Most definitely, honestly if she doesn't then somethings wrong," Scott added just as Preston returned and unscrewed the bottle before pouring it on her metal leg, loud hissing and steam rolled out from the gears and gaps of the metal. 

"It was probably overheating," Preston said before he knelt down and grabbed onto her hand. 

Scott tilted the bottle upward as he held onto Clarissa's jaw and then stopped for a moment, noticed her swallow, and then her torso rise and fall with more pronounced breaths, Scott backed up, Clarissa's hands shot up as she grabbed onto her war hammer right beside her as her eyes shot open with fears before she noticed the boys standing around beside her.

"We shouldn't have left you" Preston's head fell and Clarissa felt tears streaming down her cheeks with a mix of relief and anger. 

"I'm sorry," Clarissa set down her war hammer again before she wrapped her arms around herself as she let out a sob of mixed emotions before Scott, Preston, and Dex all fell to their knees around her and pulled her into a hug as she vibrated against all of them as everything she held onto for the past five months lifted from her shoulders. 

Scott should've noticed her pain. 

Dex should've noticed her behavior changing. 

Preston should've said something day one. 

"so are we," Preston whispered as he held onto her left side, Scott hugged her right, and Dex felt all the tears staining his shirt beneath his chin which rested on top of her head and his fingers drew calming circles against her back. 

~~~

Ta-da :3

Cry dammit. 

JK! 

I really loved this oneshot forrrrr sure. Actually 2-n'oneshot.

(2,353 words)

[atths--twice]

First meetings, dinner, and some conversation. ❤️

Chapter Four

Melissa Scully, or Mel as she preferred to be called, was easy to talk to and incredibly funny. She had a quick wit and sometimes it took a second for Fox to get her joke, but when he did, he could not help but chuckle.

She was more straight laced than Dana, her style of clothing leaning toward a more sophisticated fashion. Designer jeans, shoes, and a handbag, showed she had exquisite taste. Unlike many women he had known in his life who shared the same style, for her it seemed effortless and without thought of being seen as above anyone else. She wore it all with an air of ease and grace.

She seemed to bring Dana out of her shell a bit more, engaging her in conversation and laughing over inside jokes. But then there were moments when he saw Dana falter and pull back, a frown tugging at her eyebrows. When she did, Mel would touch her hand, or look at her and smile, drawing attention to something on the table or in the room.

She’s grounding, he thought as he watched them, Dana nodding with a slight hint of a smile as Mel rubbed her back.

He remembered the term from the therapy sessions he had gone through when he was in middle school.

Angry over his parents divorce, he had gotten into fights at school, refused to do any schoolwork, and became a problem in his classes.

One of his favorite teachers, Mrs. Stuart, had brought him to a meeting with the school counselor, kindly explaining how she was worried about him. He had acted nonchalant, shrugging often as if it had not bothered him, but hearing the worry in her voice had hurt him exceedingly.

Letters had been sent home and therapy sessions began not long after. He had hated them at first, not speaking at all and wasting the entire hour.

But once he had actually spoken, opening up about how he had been feeling, he found that it did help with his anger and anxiety. He continued seeing the same therapist until his sophomore year of high school.

“When you’re overwhelmed, when you feel an anxious moment coming on… stop,” his therapist had said. “Stop where you are and breathe. Look around you. Find three round objects. Then breathe. Or think of the names of dog breeds. Count backwards by fives, whatever helps you in that moment… then breathe.”

It had been a long time since he had felt that level of anxiety. But even without realizing it, he had been using those techniques in his day-to-day life.

He would name the parts of the camera in his head. Baseball teams in order of preference. Recite little songs he had learned as a child.

Her big cardigan, he thought suddenly, realizing that she was using it more than as a way to cover up. It was something she could touch, something tactile for her to implement when she became anxious or overwhelmed.

He drew in a quiet breath and let it out, anger on her behalf rising to the surface.

Fuck Tom and fuck any man or woman who caused a person pain and suffering. Especially to that level.

“Any room left for dessert?” the waiter asked as he approached, smiling far too happily, but providing a much needed distraction.

“Uhh,” he said, knowing he did not want any dessert. “I’m… Dana? Mel? Any dessert?”

“Oh, none for me, thanks,” Mel said, smiling at the waiter. “Dana?”

“No, thank you,” she said quietly and Mel smiled as she squeezed her hand.

“Just the check then,” Fox stated. “Actually, could you just charge it to room 511?”

“Certainly, sir,” the waiter said, nodding and walking away.

“Well,” Fox said, laying his napkin down and standing up. “It was a pleasure having dinner with you both. As I’ve been here to this resort many times, may I suggest taking a walk around the grounds before you turn in?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Mel said, standing as well and picking up her bag. “Come on sis, let’s go see how the other half lives.”

“As if you couldn’t afford to get married here,” Dana scoffed as she stood up, rolling her eyes as she stepped back and pushed in her chair.

“Oh, we could now, but we’re already married. Opportunity missed,” Mel said, shaking her head in mock sadness as she looked around the lavishly decorated room.

Dana caught Fox’s eye and she shook her head with a slight smile and he felt the anger and annoyance leave his body. He smiled back and nodded.

The waiter brought over the invoice and Fox signed it, gesturing for Dana and Mel to walk ahead of him as they left the restaurant.

“Well,” he said with a smile as they reached the lobby. “I’ll leave you two to it. Enjoy your walk and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Dana asked with a frown.

“Yeah, what?” Mel asked, shaking her head. “You’re the one who suggested it to us.”

“Oh. I was meaning the two of you would like…” He looked from one to the other as they stared at him, not budging, and he laughed softly. “Okay. Yes, I can join you.”

“Good,” Mel said, taking Dana’s arm as he put his hands in his pockets and walked beside them.

It really was a beautiful resort, especially at night. The lights were soft and placed strategically around the grounds, adding to the ambiance. There were many places to sit and relax, large fire pits lit that allowed for a pleasant moment to talk.

“You know,” Fox said, pointing as they approached one of the fire pits. “They sell these little kits to make s’mores over the fire. Everything you need to make a single s’more.”

“Really?” Dana asked with a smile.

“Yeah. Would you like to do that?”

“I would, yeah. Mel?”

“Sure,” she agreed with a smile.

They walked over and spoke to the woman selling them and got one each. Claiming a spot, Dana began to open her small kit with an excited hum.

“Oh,” Mel said, handing Fox her bag and shaking her head as she looked at her watch. “Dane, I just remembered that I need to call Ryan before Layla goes to bed. I said she could stay up until I called and I’m sure she’s getting tired by now.”

“Oh, we could wait for you.”

“No, that’s okay, babe. You stay and I’ll see you back in the room.”

“You sure?”

“Absolutely sure.” She smiled and nodded to them both. “Goodnight, Fox. Thank you for dinner. It was nice to meet you.”

“And you. And you’re welcome.” They shook hands and then she hugged Dana before waving and walking into the hotel.

“Well,” Dana said, holding a marshmallow in her hand. “I guess we’re on our own.”

“Looks like it.” He smiled at her and she nodded as she exhaled a breath. “So, how do you like your marshmallows toasted?”

They sat down, discussing marshmallow toasting preferences and before he knew it, a quick glance at his watch told him an hour had passed.

“Wow,” he laughed. “Time really does fly sometimes. Are you ready to head up? We have an early start tomorrow.”

“Last one,” she said, placing a marshmallow on her stick and then holding it above the fire.

“Here, I’ll get the rest of it ready for you.” He unwrapped the chocolate and laid it between the two graham crackers, watching as she took her time to perfectly toast her marshmallow. “I like that you take the task so seriously.”

“If you want the marshmallow to melt the chocolate, you gotta take the time to do it right,” she said, turning her stick as she nodded.

“And you’re not feeling like you’re on a sugar overload after the last two s’mores you’ve had?” he teased and she shook her head.

“No such thing.”

“Okay,” he laughed.

Soon, her marshmallow was done and he held the graham cracker steady as she placed it on top of the square of chocolate.

She took the s’more from him and squeezed it slowly, the chocolate indeed melting slightly as she took a bite. The marshmallow squished out the sides and she hurried to eat it before it dropped to the ground.

“It’s puhfahc,” she said, her mouth full.

“Good,” he said, laughing again as he held up some napkins, silently asking if she wanted them, and she nodded as she took another bite.

They walked as she finished her treat, him carrying one of the bottles of water that had been offered, along with the napkins.

“That was so much better than any dessert in a restaurant,” she said, taking the water bottle from him and taking a long drink. “It’s simple and yet so delicious and satisfying. Makes you feel like a kid again, you know?”

“Yeah,” he agreed as they stepped into the elevator.

She wiped her mouth and her hands, getting one of the napkins a little bit wet to do so. Finishing off the water, she threw it into a recycling bin as they stepped off the elevator.

They were quiet as they walked to her room, which was down the hall from his own, but she stopped him before they reached the door.

“Thank you for tonight. For letting my sister stay and treating us to dinner. It was kind of you. Not that… not that you usually aren't. I just meant…” She sighed and shook her head. “I appreciate it. That’s what I’m trying to say.”

“You’re welcome. More than welcome.” He smiled and she smiled back, though it did not quite reach her eyes. “You go in and get some sleep- if you’ll be able to that is, after all that sugar.” She exhaled a soft laugh and nodded. “Do you want to meet for breakfast? Or would you rather eat before we meet up?”

“I think I’ll go down to the coffee shop and then bring it back here to eat while I’m getting ready.”

“There’s no need to go to all that trouble. Just order something up to the room.”

“I can’t do that,” she said, frowning as she shook her head. “That’s… no, I can’t do that.”

“You can. Whatever you’d like. There’s a menu in the room-”

“I can’t, Fox,” she whispered, looking down at the floor. “It would be…”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said quietly, touching her elbow briefly. “But please don’t hesitate because you feel I wouldn’t want it. You’re here because you work for me. I mean with me. You need to eat before you do said work and there is a kitchen downstairs waiting to fill that request. Considering our early morning departure, it's easier and makes more sense to have it brought to you, to us, rather than leaving to get it.”

She raised her head and looked at him for a second before she drew in a deep breath and nodded.

“I still feel like I shouldn’t do it. But, okay. I will,” she whispered and he smiled.

“Your sister as well, if she wants anything.”

“No. I agreed to the order for me,” she said, shaking her head. “But I won’t-”

“Okay,” he said, putting up his hands and chuckling softly. “Okay. You win.”

She nodded and licked her lips, stepping forward and continuing to her room. Taking her card key from her pocket, she looked at him and sighed.

“Thank you again. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Bright and early. With a full stomach.” He raised his eyebrows and she smiled.

“Yes.”

“Good. Goodnight, Dana.”

“Goodnight, Fox.”

She put the key in the reader and the light blinked green. Pressing the handle down, she opened the door and stepped inside, smiling again as she closed it. He waited to hear the lock turn before he continued down the hall and around the corner to his room.

Tomorrow would be long and tiring by the end of it, so as soon as he entered the room, he began to prepare for bed.

Lying down, he smiled as he set the alarm and turned out the light. He thought of Dana as he drifted off to sleep, remembering the intense look she had as she toasted her marshmallow and the happiness in her smile when she then bit into the gooey s’more.

[therummonster]

benny bird, pretty bird.

finally drew him before his wings were charred. he looks so happy and carefree! which is pretty accurate i'd say.

wrote out how they met below, enjoy!

Champagne stood against the railing of the balcony, he had a cigarette in his hand, but the sight before him was what was he was focusing on. The rhythmic flapping of wings as the thing before him stared just as curiously. He finally snapped out of his funk and put out the cigarette, then spoke.

"what the fuck."

They grinned and flapped over, champagne took a few steps back as the talons on its feet gripped the railing to prevent it from falling. It was practically casting a shadow over him as its wings fluffed up a slight amount, before they rested around it like a blanket.

"I didn't know y'all spoke like us!"

"again, what?"

The man with bird like features was cheerful, and apparently spoke english.

"I come from the mountains over there! I was just out searching for trinkets to bring back to my family, when I spotted you just existing. Hey where's your wings?"

"I don't have any, I'm not supposed to."

"why?"

"I dunno, I'm just a human."

He titled his head slightly. It was kinda cute in a weird way.

"well either way I should probably return to my fam, meet you up here again in 3 days?"

"sure."

He stood up, claws unhooking from the railing, and fell backwards. Champagne rushed to the edge in time to see him spin around in the air, unfurling his wings and flying back into cloud cover. He was gone from view and Champagne sighed, realizing that yet again he was completely unfazed by things such as this.

[omniblades-and-stars]

But The Shepherd had never been one for making things easy on herself.

“You can do this. You're not a fuckin' coward. Give 'em hell," she whispered to herself in a poor attempt at psyching herself up.

She armed herself with her knife, a small but wicked looking blade. And it was wicked, sharp enough to part the head plates on a krogan like they were water. She slid beneath the bottom rack of an industrial shelving unit, and waited as heavy footsteps drew near.

“She's got to be in one of these rooms. There's nowhere else to hide,“ one of the mercenaries said from just outside of the door. ”I'll clear this one, you get the one across the hall.“

”Yes, sir.“

You are my sunshine.

The door hissed as it slid open and The Shepherd held her breath, waiting until the shining pair of boots belonging to one of her soon to be captors came into view, right in front of her face. The mercenary let out a blood curdling scream as she drove her knife deep into the gap in between armored plates right at his ankle. She wrenched the knife free and rolled out of her hiding place as he stumbled backwards.

The Shepherd darted around behind him as he fell to his knees and forced the blade into his neck before he could even attempt to recover, silencing him for good. She wrenched his pistol from his hands and flattened herself against the wall next to the door and took several large gulping breaths as she waited for the man's companion to realize that the screaming wasn't hers.

My only sunshine.

The mercenary walked into the room, right past the assassin waiting inside the door. ”What the fuck! Captain, are you-“ The mercenary didn't get the chance to finish asking the universe's dumbest question before her neck was broken, and her body dropped heavily to the floor.

Two down, only an impossibly large number more to go.

No, don't think about it. Watch your breathing, time your shots.

You make me happy when skies are gray.

She stepped out into the hall with the re-appropriated pistol held at the ready. The Shepherd walked quietly down the ancient stonework passageway, pausing at doorways to clear rooms as she moved. Voices echoed down the hall, three people walking towards her in formation.

CRACK

CRACK

CRACK

Three down.

You'll never know, dear, how much I love you.

Red lights started flashing down the halls and an alarm began to blare. It wouldn't be much longer now.

Another mercenary came dashing down the hall, she sent him sailing into the air with a surge of biotic power before spawning a singularity right in the center of the hall. It pulled the screaming mercenary into its center.

And she waited. More approached, some getting caught in the gravitational pull of her trap.

Gunshots echoed loud in her ears as she traded fire with the mercenaries who had the good sense to stay well out of the way of the dense little ball terrorizing about four of them now. When the thermal clip on her stolen gun ran out, she tossed it to the side and drew her own sidearm.

Please don't take my sunshine aw-

Heat shot through her body before her brain had the chance to process what was happening. In a wave that followed the amber static crackling over her skin, muscles spasmed painfully all throughout her body. Electric fingers pierced through her mind like knives, rendering her unable to think, much less fight. She fell to the ground in a screaming, spasming heap, pain blinding her to anything but the tears gathering hot in her eyes once more.

And it hit her again before the first neural shock had worn off.

And again.

Blessedly, before they hit her for a fourth time, and in a small act of mercy, consciousness fled her small, twitching body.