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changbunnies · 15 days

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Hopelessly Devoted To You (18+)

♡ Pairing: Greaser!Bang Chan x fem!Reader

♡ Genre: grease inspired 50s au, some angst and fluff, this was supposed to be a long full length fic but it somehow became just porn with plot lol

♡ Word Count: 11.2k

♡ Summary: You were so excited to see him again– the guy you'd spent your entire summer with, entagled in a fleeting but explosively sweet romance. But the Chris you meet again isn't the one you remember, and now if he wants to win you back he's going to have to prove just how devoted to you he really is.

♡ Warnings: chan is referred to as chris, smoking (cigarettes), some misogyny + toxic masculinity + fuck boy behavior, some 50s references and lingo, 1 instance of reader shoving chan in a fit of anger / sadness, jealous and mildly possessive chan, minor appearances from felix, changbin, minho, and hyunjin (who goes by sam)

♡ Smut Warnings: 1 reference to reader losing their virginity to chan, references / flashbacks to other smut scenes before the main scene, light dom/sub dynamics, switch!chan, pet names (doll, sugar, baby), public sex, car sex, exhibitionism, oral (f rec, referenced m rec), fingering (f rec), nipple play, daddy kink, panty stealing (kind of), squirting, 1 mention of reader having pubic hair, maybe a lil breeding kink??, protected piv

♡ Notes: i've had this sitting in my drafts since december and finally got around to finishing it gfdhgfh this is incredibly self indulgent as grease is one of my fave movies ever and chan as danny zuko is constantly rattling around in my brain. the build up is pretty short (by my usual standards) as i moved the plot along a lot quicker than i normally would so idk if it's my best work but hopefully you enjoy it!

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

You remember well the first time you met Chris. Lounging aimlessly at the beach with the sunset on the horizon, his feet in the sand with a silver dog tag necklace hanging low over his bare chest, a cigarette from his previously discarded jeans held between his lips. Fresh from the ocean with beads of water still dripping off his toned body, slicking back his damp hair before fumbling through a different pocket for his lighter.

You watched him bring it up to his face after successfully digging it out, cupping his other hand around it to protect the flame as he lit the cigarette in his mouth. You watched him take a long drag, watched him blow the smoke out from the corners of his mouth, watched him sigh before deciding to towel dry his legs enough to wrangle his jeans back on.

The beach had been quickly growing sparse by the time you spotted him. Groups of friends clearing out to make it to the local diner before all the tables were filled, parents wanting to get their kids to bed before the moon fully rose in the sky, couples on double dates bunching up in one car as they decide to hit the drive-in together.

You yourself were in no rush to leave– you came alone, tired of your parents bickering during what was supposed to be a fun family vacation. You’d stay as long as you could, you’d decided– really soak in the peace the sea brings before returning to your aunt’s beach house, where you were all staying for the summer.

But safe to say, the sight of him enraptured you. He was handsome, devastatingly so– you never expected to see a man with a visage to rival even that of James Dean himself with your own eyes, but there he was before you; and your heart stuttered when he glanced over in your direction.

He had just finished pulling his jeans up and over his haunches when he noticed you, cocking a brow when your eyes met– and you could tell in an instant that he knew you’d been staring at him. His smile made your breath hitch, pretty dimples peeking out on his cheeks as he acknowledged you with a playful wave.

Hesitantly, you lifted your hand and waved back, and he grinned, eyes still locked on yours as he pulled up the zipper of his jeans. He turned back to his belongings on the ground, shook the sand out of his white tee before pulling it on. He grabbed his leather jacket, slung it over his shoulder before turning to look at you once more.

You swallowed, face running hot from his gaze alone– you hoped, as he began walking towards you, that you could play it off as having not put on enough sunscreen before coming here. You were sitting on a towel, legs to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, but you lowered them as he approached you.

He tossed his cigarette to the the side once he was close, letting its flame fizzle out in the sand. He looked you up and down when you stood up, introducing himself with a charismatic smile that made your heart race faster. You stuttered when speaking, and his smile widened, one of his hands going to rest in the pocket of his jeans while the other kept his leather jacket in place over his shoulder.

Chris was the most, to say the least– and when he asked if he’d see you again tomorrow, you promised him he would. You watched him walk over to a beat up, old top down cadillac, throwing his jacket into the car before jumping in– literally jumping in, hand on top of the closed car door as he hopped over it into the driver's seat.

He gave you another glance after starting the ignition, and you smiled meekly as you offered him another wave. Chris grinned, raising his hand to say goodbye before putting it back on the wheel and burning rubber out of the parking lot.

You spent nearly every summer day with him after that. Days at the beach spent splashing each other in the water while you giggled, hopping in his cadillac to go catch whatever new flick was showing, or sharing a milkshake at his favorite diner. He’d hold your hand as you walked through the sand, giggled with you over silly inside jokes while eating burgers and fries, hugged you tight after you gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.

Chris gave you dimes to pick tunes on the jukebox, and would sing along to your selections with the prettiest voice you’d ever heard. He took you to the county fair, would shoot you goofy grins after kissing you with lips sticky from cotton candy, got on the ferris wheel with you and squeezed your hand when the height made you dizzy, kissing away your nerves when you reached the very top.

He won you a teddy bear from the soda toss, put his leather jacket over your shoulders when the sun set and the air began to chill, wrapped his arm around your shoulder while you were waiting in line to buy some popcorn. He’d lean down to whisper a joke in your ear, and you’d slap his arm with a giggle while he squeezed you closer.

You watched him soup up the engine of his car, and he’d take your hand after a long day of working on it, pull you in to dance with him while the radio blared the hippest tunes. When he was satisfied with the restoration of his cadillac, he started taking you out on long drives, wind whipping through your hair as he drove fast through the back streets of the city.

He’d drive you to secluded hills overlooking the city, where you’d make out until he had to drive you home in time for curfew. He’d park his car far down the street, away from where your family could see him dropping you off– because Lord knows your mother's heart would give out if she saw you spending your vacation with a guy that looked like him.

And through it all, days spent back at the beach where you first met him were always your favorite. You would let Chris lay you down on a towel in the sand and kiss you over and over, until you were both heaving and hot. You lost your virginity to him like that– alone on the beach, towels laid down and moon high in the sky after having snuck out of the window of your guest bedroom to meet him.

He’d whisper sweet words in your ear, make you fall apart with deft fingers and an equally deft tongue. Sometimes, instead of sneaking out to see him, he’d be the one showing up at your guest room's window, grinning at you as you opened it to let him in. He’d fuck you there, in the bed with his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of pleasure, lest your family discover what it is you’re really up to while "alone" in your room.

Chris would crawl over to you in the passenger seat at the drive-in, sink to his knees and dip his head underneath your long poodle skirt, the flick on screen long forgotten as he pulled your panties to the side to kiss and lick your dripping pussy. Sometimes he’d fuck you there too, parked all the way in back with the windows and hood of the car up to hide what you were doing (as if the rocking didn’t give it away to anyone who happened to look.)

Sometimes, when he parked up the street to drop you off after sharing ice cream at the drive thru malt shop, you’d lean over the gear shift, taking his cock out of his jeans and sucking him off right there, with not nearly enough care for who could possibly see you. He’d give you the sweetest kiss before helping you out of the car, promising he’d see you tomorrow too, and the day after, and the day after that, until eventually your family’s summer vacation had to come to an end.

Chris was a dreamboat that day, as he always was– hair greased back with a few curly strands left over his forehead, loose black tee tucked into his jeans, leather jacket on with its collar ever so slightly popped, his dog tag necklace sparkling when the sun hit it just right. He was leaning against the door of his newly souped up cadillac with a lit cigarette resting between his lips, though he promptly threw it to the ground when he saw you walking over.

“There’s my girl! And ain’t she a doll,” he grinned as he pulled you to his body, kissing you sweetly as you blushed. You weren’t wearing anything he hadn’t seen you in before– just one of your usual white blouses and pretty pink skirts, but he always made sure to tell you that he thought you were the absolute most.

He walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door for you and closed it shut behind you when you got in. He hopped into the driver’s seat after, starting the ignition and turning to you with that beaming smile that made your stomach flip. “What’s the plan today, sugar?” he asked, throwing his arm around you while leaving one hand on the steering wheel.

In the end, you spent the day as you had many times before– driving through the city, hitting up the diner to split a strawberry milkshake, and watching the sunset at the beach; the same beach where you met him, and where the house you were staying in lied just a couple hundred yards away. You were sitting on the rocks, his leather jacket off and resting behind you, his arm curled around your waist.

His jeans were filthy with sand, as was your skirt, but neither of you cared– you just stayed there together, watching the sun sink lower and the waves crash against the shore. Chris kissed you when you looked up at him with watery eyes, agonized over the idea of never seeing him again. He’d given you the best summer of your entire life, and all you wanted was to stay– but you couldn’t. And though he comforted you the best he could, you both knew it was the end.

Chris held your hand to help you off the rocks, gave you a kiss before you turned away to make the walk to your aunt’s beach house. And you both knew it was the end– but not just yet. He came to your window later that night, and you let him in, bringing your hands to his face and eagerly pressing your lips to his.

He walked you back to the bed as you kissed him, laid you back gently and crawled between your legs. He made you cum on his fingers before reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom and tearing it open with his teeth. He rolled it easily down his cock, his jeans having fallen down his legs just enough to let him fuck you.

You reached your hands underneath his shirt, hungrily tracing your hands over every inch of his skin. Your nightgown was bunched above your thighs, legs spread wide to accommodate him. He eventually pulled the top of it down too, exposing your chest to him and leaving your stomach as the only covered part of your body.

Sweat dripped from his brow, his normally perfectly slicked hair tousled from your fingers sliding through it– and you didn't care that the pomade in his hair dirtied your fingers; in fact, it made it feel nicer when you brought your hand to one of your breasts, and rolled your nipples between them. Your stomach flipped when he grinned and called you a dirty girl, running a hand through his hair to grease up his fingers too and tweak the other nipple not being played with by your own.

He kissed you to muffle your moans and desperate whines, and it was nowhere near as effective as when it was his hand clamped over your mouth, but it was better. He had to slow down when fucking you fast unintentionally made your bedframe slam against the wall, and you gasped, praying no one woke up from the sound.

Thankfully, no one came knocking on your door– and though you were both desperate, clinging to one another hard and sliding your tongues around each other’s with fervor, he fucked you slow and deep after that. "Chris, daddy, please– 'm gonna cum," you moaned when he brought his slicked up fingers to your clit.

Chris groaned before kissing you again, and you came with a muffled cry, your nails digging desperately into his biceps. He kept rolling his hips into you through it, your body trembling with sensitivity until he eventually came too, all his cum spilling into the condom.

He stayed for a while after that, holding you close and wiping tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He snuck out in the middle of the night, promised you despite it all that it wasn’t the end– you’d see each other again someday, he just knew it; he wanted you to believe it too.

You got a couple of hours of sleep before morning, and gave your family the best smile you could manage as you tossed your luggage in the trunk of your dad's chevy bel air. You slouched in the back seat, trying not to cry and wishing more than anything you were in Chris’ old cadillac instead.

The Chris you reunited with wasn’t yours, and if it was, then fate was cruel for bringing you back to him.

The Chris you knew wouldn’t have looked at you like that– like you’re a desperate and fast girl, or an overly smitten near stranger hoping to get her kicks from him one last time while his friends snickered behind him. The Chris you knew wouldn’t join in on their snickering, tilting his head with an amused expression, tongue poking his cheek as he combs his fingers through his slicked back hair.

The Chris you reunited with wasn't yours, and the realization that you didn't really know him the way you thought you did utterly broke your heart.

You were back in the city– your parents, after having settled whatever marital disputes they were having, decided to settle down here. They loved their time together in the city when all their little tiffs were said and done, and they could tell you loved it here too.

They thought it’d benefit everyone to set up shop somewhere new, where everyone could reset. Plus, your mom wanted to be close to her sister again– and you certainly wouldn’t complain about spending more time at your aunt’s beach house.

You desperately wanted to see Chris again, and you knew it’d only be a matter of time before you did– unlike you, he grew up in the city, lived here his entire life. And while it’d been months since you parted at the end of summer considering your parents had to do a lot of work to shift the family business to a new location while also looking for a decent house up for sale, it would happen eventually– you were certain of it.

And soon enough you did see him, knew in an instant it was him even at a distance– because you’d recognize his restored cadillac anywhere. He was leaning against the car door like usual, cigarette in his mouth and leather jacket on his back, with a circle of friends around him. You never met his friends– he told you they were pigs, said that you wouldn’t like them much.

Besides, you were only going to be in town a few short months– why waste your precious few days hanging around with other people when you could be alone? That’s what he always told you– and as you tentatively began to walk up the street closer to them, you could tell they certainly did talk more vulgarly than you were used to hearing.

“C’mon man, you gotta let me borrow her,” one of his friends begged in reference to his car, “she’s a real pussy wagon. My chick’ll cream if I pick her up in it.” “Get your own wheels, bozo,” Chris shoved him with a laugh, “I ain’t lettin’ you take my girl on any joyrides.”

“What if you come too? Make it a double date, you know– and nobody’s got bigger tits than Annette. I got dibs, but she’ll be real nice eye candy for you,” his friend persuaded and Chris hummed, as if seriously considering it. Would he really go?

“Mm, maybe,” he grinned, tossing his cigarette to the ground and digging it into the gravel with his foot, “You do got a point. Tell her to bring a pretty friend, and I’ll think about it.” You blinked, stopped walking and simply stared at him. Had he moved on already? It’d only been a few months, but maybe you fell for him harder than he fell for you; the thought of it made your heart sink to your stomach.

His friend cheered and hugged him tight, and Chris pushed him away with another laugh, running a hand through his hair to fix it up as he characteristically did whenever it got even the slightest bit out of shape. In that same moment is when he glanced over in your direction, catching sight of you by pure coincidence.

His eyes widened when he saw you, mouth gaping open for a split second before he called your name in a mix of utter shock and joy. That was more like the Chris you knew– and it gave you hope. You ran up to him, and he to you, bringing his hands to your shoulders and touching you up and down your arms– truly, he couldn’t believe you were here, and he had to touch you to be certain it was real.

“What– what are you doing here? I-I thought you went back home with your folks, I thought–” he was smiling, entirely giddy as he looked you up and down. “We moved! I’m here to stay,” you told him excitedly, bouncing on your heels as you stared up at him.

It made you so, so happy; to the point that the contents of his prior conversation entirely lifted from your mind. It pains you thinking back to how naive and lovesick for him you were– you wish you'd have known better.

“I can’t believe it! I–” he started to exclaim, but then realized his friends followed him, crowding around his back while shooting him inquisitive looks, and he quickly took his hands off you.

He cleared his throat, tucked his hands in his pockets in a gesture meant to bring him back to his aloof state of being, and he grinned– not that pretty grin that made your heart flutter, but a wicked one. “I mean– that’s cool, baby.”

You didn’t like it, your brows furrowing at the change in his demeanor. “Christopher–” you started, but one of his friends spoke up before you could talk much more. “Who’s the chick?” he asked as he looked you up and down, and Chris hesitated. “Oh, uh–”

“Oh, I know!” the friend suddenly exclaimed, hit by an epiphany, “the one from the beach you wouldn’t let us meet– the one who puts out. This her? It is, isn’t it?”

Your face burned red, unpleasant heat crawling over your body as the rest of his friends snickered. He told them you put out? Why would he do that? Your expression crumbled, body trembling with embarrassment and grief, but Chris kept his own cool.

“Don’t worry, doll, I didn’t tell them all the horny details,” he smirked, and his friends' snickers erupted into full on laughs as they slapped his back in amusement. Your body burned hot with indignation, eyes welling with tears as your frustration and anguish boiled over. You shoved him as hard as you could, though it hardly even caused him to take a step back.

“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, you– you creep!” you cried before turning away, ready to run back home to throw the teddy bear he won you in the trash and sob into your pillows. “That’s not all she laid on him,” one of his friends commented under his breath, the rest laughing and hooting as you sprinted away from them, back down the street.

Chris just watched, body tense and face sullen, heart twisting in his chest. He watched you turn the corner, wiping tears from your eyes before you disappeared entirely out of view, his friends still laughing and giving him pats on the back.

But when he turned to them, he put the smirk back on, and they all hopped into his car to hit the drive-in as if he didn't care about what just happened with you, as if the guilt wasn't going to eat away at him every night.

The next time Chris sees you is weeks later, at a new mom-and-pop shop freshly opened on the edge of the city. He’s there with his friends, all of them jumping out his cadillac before he’s even fully parked, rushing inside to grab a good table.

And when he walks in, it’s not his friends that he sees first but you– sitting at a booth with another guy across from you. There's an empty plate with tiny remnants of ketchup still left behind that he just knows you used for your french fries, and a milkshake between you with two straws stuck in it.

Part of him is relieved you aren’t sharing a single straw with the man like you would’ve done with him, but his gut still twists from the sight regardless. And when you giggle at something indiscernible the guy says, Chris feels liquid hot envy boil in his blood, jaw tightening and fists clenching as he cracks his neck.

“Chris, over here!” his best pal, Felix, calls from across the shop, and that’s when you see him too. You can’t help but look when you hear his name called, eyes widening when they land on him. He tenses, eyes lingering on you for a few seconds longer before he inevitably joins his friends at the table they scouted out in the middle of the room.

He can't focus on anything his friends are saying– the only thing he vaguely hears through the fog in his brain is Changbin begging the others for spare nickels so he can afford the dog-sled delight. It all becomes tuned out noise, because all he can think about is how much he missed you, and how much it pisses him off that you're here with someone else.

It's Chris' own fault, he knows that, and that makes the feeling even worse– like bile in his throat that he can't swallow down. It doesn’t take Minho, the most perceptive of his friend group, to notice that he’s staring at you and to comment on it.

“What, you still hung up on that chick?” he questions, and Chris scoffs as he snaps out of his fog, leaning back in his chair and acting as aloof as he can bring himself to. “What? No, of course not,” he says, but his eyes still linger on you, fingers twitching with irritation when he hears you laugh again, and watches you playfully slap the man’s arm like you would do to his.

Eventually, you hold out your palm to your date, and he watches the guy dig through his pockets to give you something. Chris knows immediately what's happening– you’re waiting to be given a dime or two, and you’ll saunter off to the jukebox to pick a new tune once they’re in hand.

He watches you rise from the booth, waits until you’ve made the walk over to rise from his table, muttering to his friends that he needs to hit the can real quick. He takes a few steps in the direction of the bathroom, and then immediately turns, going straight to you instead.

He props an arm on the jukebox after he approaches, leans against it and looks down at you as you cycle through the record choices. “Hey baby,” he tries, but you ignore him, don’t even spare him a glance as you continue to give the jukebox your full attention.

“Listen– I’m sorry,” he tries again, and you just hum in acknowledgement, still not turning your gaze to look at him. He swallows, glances back at his friends who are perfectly oblivious to what he’s doing, and then back to you. “I just– you know how it is, right? The guys, they expect me to act a certain way, and–”

“That’s why I’m so glad I met Sam,” you interrupt, turning around to look at your date and offer him a sweet wave. Chris hates it, but at least you’re talking to him now– he’ll take what he can get. He still ends up scowling however when your date waves back, and you turn back to the jukebox, still without glancing up at Chris himself.

“What, you like that square?” he scoffs as he looks your date up and down. He’s smartly dressed; pristine khaki slacks and a brown sweater vest pulled over his white button up, his hair in a neatly styled, respectable crew cut– but that’s not your type.

At least, he hopes it's not; because that would make Chris the outlier, and that’s not what he wants to be. He’ll also be damned if he ends up losing you to a goody two shoes like that.

“He’s sweet to me. And I don’t have to question what his intentions are, unlike with you,” you reply, and the emphasis put on 'you' makes his heart sink. While he certainly deserves to hear it, it doesn’t make him any less upset– not with you, but with himself. He really let his pride and reputation get in the way, and he knows he fucked up. But he wants you, and surely you know that, right?

You finally settle on a tune; Those Magic Changes– the one he knows is your absolute favorite. The one he even used to serenade you with once whilst dancing, you giggling away with a cute blush on your cheeks whilst he twirled you around. He sang it more exaggeratedly towards the end, purposely putting on a goofy voice to make you laugh harder as he dipped you down.

He kissed you before lifting you back up, and then again when you were completely upright, your hand on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, your other free hands intertwined. The way you looked at him when he pulled back from the kiss made his heart pound, but he played it cool– shot you that grin that always made your legs feel like jelly, kissing your cheeks when it made your blush deepen.

Chris liked feeling the heat of your blush against his lips, liked having your hands on him even when it was in the purest of ways, liked the way you giggled and smiled at him when he playfully winked at you. The memory strikes him hard when you press the play button to start the song, and he takes a step back from the jukebox, fists clenched at his side.

You look at him then– really look at him. Instantly he feels small, your gaze that once held so much love for him now meeting him with the utmost scrutiny. He fucked up, he knows he did– but what does he do now? He can’t even trust himself to say something without fucking it up even worse.

And the pain of it all hits you too– he can see it in your eyes just before you steel your expression, and do your best to act unaffected. "See you around, Christopher," you mutter as you turn away from him and the jukebox.

You walk back to the booth where Sam awaits your return with a smile, while Chris just stands there, your favorite song blaring painfully loud in his ears as he stares at your back. "..begs you please, come back to me, please return to me, don't go away again," the lyrics mock him harshly.

He doesn't know what to do, but he knows he has to do something, anything, to show you he’s sincerely sorry. He needs to show you he still wants you, needs you to give him another chance– more than he’s ever needed anything.

The next time Chris sees you is once again by coincidence, while he’s sitting alone in the parking lot of the sock hop his little sister just begged him to take her to. He was trying to decide what to do with his time– if he left, he’d have to come back in a couple hours to pick her up, but surely it was better than sitting around outside, bored out of his mind while he waited for her.

He could go in, but sock hops aren’t really his thing– the only time he ever danced was with you, and he didn’t plan on changing that. All he’d do inside is stand on the edge of the room and watch his sister dance, and he didn’t much feel like doing that either. Besides, his little sister was a good girl, and she didn’t need, nor want, his constant supervision.

And he’s just about to turn the key in his ignition and burn rubber when he sees you, arm linked with stupid fucking Sam as he opens the door for you with his free hand. And fuck, he doesn't even care that he's about to crash your date– he just needs to talk you. He jumps out of his car in a rush, pulling open the door to the building and heading straight to the line leading to the dance floor.

Chris’ jaw tenses when he sees you– Sam is leaning down to whisper something in your ear while you wait in the line, and you cover your mouth as you giggle. He hates how similar it is to the days he spent with you at the fair, waiting in line for rides and popcorn. The envy bubbling in his gut makes him feel sick, and he has to take a breath to calm himself down before he approaches you.

He steps to where you are in the line when he feels mellowed out enough, you and your date turning around curiously when they hear his voice call your name. Your eyes widen when you see it's him, but you’re quick to correct your expression before your date notices anything off about you. “Can I talk to you?” Chris asks, not at all acknowledging Sam’s presence beside you.

Even when you divert your gaze to glance at your date’s reaction, Chris’ eyes stay firmly on you, awaiting your answer. “Please?” he follows up, and it makes you swallow. It’s the first time he’s ever taken a pleading, desperate tone with you, and he can tell rejecting him isn’t going to come easily to you– it gives him hope that you'll finally hear him out, maybe even take him back.

“I–” you hesitate a moment, and just as Chris’ new, shiny hope begins to dim, you unlink your arm from your date. “I’ll be right back, just stay in the line,” you tell Sam before shooting Chris a look and walking past him. He follows you back outside, and you cross your arms as you stand against the cold brick of the exterior.

“What do you want?” you cut straight to the point. There’s a million things he wants to say, but his built up jealousy causes him to ask the stupid, burning question first and foremost. “Since when do you go to sock hops?” he questions, and it almost makes you laugh– he’s unbelievable, breaking your heart like that and then pulling stunts like this.

“Since nice boys ask me to go with them. Why, you jealous?” you accuse him and he scoffs, trying once again to play off what he feels. “Me? Jealous? Don’t make me laugh,” he says, unable to help the instinctive reaction to being called out. And he instantly regrets it, but it’s too late to take it back.

“Oh, so you won’t mind if I go back inside then?” you ask as you step away from the wall, starting to walk past Chris and back to the doors. He grabs your arm to stop you, and you look up at him expectantly. “Don’t, I–” he grits his teeth, hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decides to be honest, “I am, okay? So don’t.”

He lets your arm go, and his admission thankfully proves enough to make you stay. You settle back against the brick wall, but you don’t look at him after– instead you look down at the ground, staring at your sleek, black and white saddle shoes instead of meeting his gaze.

It’s silent for a moment, with Chris wracking his brain as he tries to figure out the right thing to say to you. “What you did was terrible, you know,” you end up breaking the silence first, your voice soft.

“I know, I– I meant it when I said I was sorry,” Chris says while moving a step closer to you, and still you hesitate to look at him. “I didn’t believe you. Still don’t,” you reply, and honestly, he can’t blame you– he should’ve been more sincere when he approached you.

But he was being a fucking idiot, still trying to play it cool even though it was just the two of you standing there by the jukebox. And who gave a fuck if his friends happened to look over and saw him talking to you? Why should he care? Is it really so wrong for him to be whipped for you?

Even the first time he saw you again, he should've done all the things he really wanted to do. He should've kissed you and hugged you tight, should've told you how happy he was to know you’re here to stay, should’ve flipped his friends the bird and told them to fuck off if they questioned him. But he didn’t– he cracked under the expectations, and you suffered for it.

There’s a lot he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it– he’s never been vulnerable about his feelings before you, but he wants to try. Even if he screws up over and over again, he’ll keep trying– because you deserve it. And he should apologize again, sincerely, but there’s another question burning in his blood that he has to ask.

“Do you really like that guy? You’re not, like– going steady, are you?” Chris questions and you shrug, finally looking up from the ground to meet his eyes. “That depends,” you tell him, peeling your back away from the wall to stand directly in front of him, holding your hands behind your back.

“On what?” he follows up, and you smile– a small one, but it’s enough for him. “On you,” you answer, and the hope flares back up, drowning out the envy and shame in veins and replacing it with pure, unfiltered glee.

“Yeah?” he grins as he tilts his head, and your smile grows the tiniest bit more as you nod. You may still have your doubts about his sincerity, but the fact that you’re willing to give him a chance is all he needs– he’ll use the time you give him to prove it to you, to make sure you’re left with no doubts that you’re the one that he wants, to promise that he'll never break your heart again.

“Come with me then, back inside– you’re gonna be my date,” he says as he holds out his hand to you. Sock hops may not have been his style before, but they can be for you. “What about Sam?” you question, but still take his hand regardless.

“He can stag it the rest of the night for all I care. You’re mine, sugar,” Chris replies, and it sends butterflies sweeping through your stomach as you giggle in delight. “And your friends?” you ask next, knowing it’s very well possible he’ll crack under the expectations of his rep with them again if they see you together.

“Fuck ‘em,” he replies easily; and you’re both sure it’ll be easier said than done for him to not give a shit what they think, but he’ll do his best. He doesn’t want to do anything to make you regret giving him another chance. “Let’s dance, baby,” he grins at you, pulling you along with him as he steps back inside the building with you in tow.

There’s a thought in Chris’ head that he never before thought he’d ever have– the sock hop was perfect. And well, maybe it’s not the sock hop itself necessarily that he enjoyed, but you– yes, it was most certainly you. The time spent with you was everything he’d been missing, everything he could’ve ever hoped for following your departure from the city and his subsequent abysmal fuck up.

He knew he didn’t deserve any of it– and he was certain you were going to share a more serious talk about it all later, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt walking back into the building and seeing Sam utterly bewildered that his date was now clinging to his own arm instead.

And he won’t shirk his responsibility to do better by you– he’ll own up to his mistakes, he’ll change, be someone deserving of you. It may take a lot of time and effort to unlearn all the dumb shit he’s taken in over the years, but he swears he’ll try– tonight is just the start of a lifetime of proving to you that he’ll do anything to keep you.

All night, you’ve been positively radiant– and truly, Chris has never felt luckier in all his life. He delighted in the way you smiled at him while dancing, enjoyed the way you squealed in excitement and bounced on your heels when the live band decided to play a cover of your favorite tune, couldn’t help the way a goofy grin spread over his face when you pecked him on the cheek following a slow dance.

You’re the only one in the world who’s ever seen it, you know– the only one who gets to see his dimples, or to hear him giggle. The only one he’s ever sung to and danced with, the only one he’s ever wanted to stay up all night talking on the phone with, the only one he’s ever taken out for more than a quick and simple joyride in his car.

He could feel the inquisitive, disbelieving stares too– Chris has lived here his entire life, and everyone knows the kind of guy he is. And maybe he’s simply lucky– he knows he’s nothing but a delinquent, knows his reputation precedes him, knows he doesn’t deserve the affection of a good girl like you.

Regardless of it all, you love him– enough to give him another chance even when he hasn’t yet done enough to earn it. And effortlessly, you unlock the soft part of him– the part of him that desires and yearns and wants. He burns for you, the only girl in the world his heart has ever raced for, the only who knew who he was beyond the rough surface he projected to the rest of the world.

Now you’re outside tentatively standing next to Chris’ car, waiting for him to come back from confirming with his sister that she’ll hitch a ride home from her friends instead of him. It embarrasses him how she grills him with questions about you– and he answers in the vaguest of terms, having to promise that he’ll fill her in on it all in more detail later, but to please just let him go be alone with his girl.

He’s certain that no one else would believe it if he told them, but his intentions to be alone with you are entirely pure. Now that he’s close to having you as his again, he wants to do right by you– take it slow, kiss you soft and tender, touch you light and chaste, respectfully, sweetly. He wants to take you on dates again, wants to save up all his quarters to buy you something special, wants to devote his every moment to showing you how sincerely he loves you.

He wants you to meet his friends properly (after he gives them a stern warning to be gentlemen in front of you), wants you to meet his parents, and he wants to meet yours in turn. He wants to stop playing it cool and aloof and confident when he feels something– doesn’t want to keep pretending that the way you look at him doesn’t drive him wild, not just with lust but with adoration.

And certainly, you know that Chris is softer than he outwardly appears– you’re not blind to the way his cheeks and ears burn when you kiss him sweet and call him that name that makes his heart skip a beat. And unlike you, Chris knew what he was doing– so it was natural for him to always be the one leading your little song and dance, even when on the inside he felt like he was going to positively combust from the way your eyes sparkled at him.

There’s something you’ve been wanting to try– something that you couldn’t before, because your summer together passed by in a blink, and there was so much you didn’t know when your relationship first began. And Chris has taught you a lot in your time together– maybe more than he even realizes.

He may not know it, but he’s made you into a real insatiable minx. And now that you know he’s willing to beg and plead and grovel for you to take him back, oh how it makes your heart race with the possibilities. How far can you take it? How far is he willing to go for you, to prove that he’s devoted to you entirely? Would he really do anything to keep you?

Chris told you, just a few moments ago as the sock hop was coming to an end, that he’ll do anything and everything to make sure you don’t regret giving him another chance with him. He looked you straight in the eyes, vulnerable and entirely sincere, squeezed your hands in his as countless promises left his lips.

Could he be manipulating you? Is he nothing but a dirty liar? It’s certainly possible– but you’d like to believe the Chris you knew last summer is the truest version of himself. You’d like to believe that the Chris you saw tonight isn’t an act to keep stringing you along. So you want to try something– something bold, something the you of last summer would’ve never thought to do.

You don’t think your shyness will ever entirely evaporate given that Chris is such an utter dreamboat, but he does well enough at playing it cool, so who's to say you can’t do it too? You can be playful and enticing, can play it coy and innocent while you flutter your lashes at him, can smile and pout at him in a way that makes desire spread through his veins like explosive, hot fireworks.

When Chris walks back out of the building you have to make a conscious effort to ignore the butterflies in your stomach– you’ve decided you’re a woman on a mission tonight, after all. The parking lot is sparse now, and the last stragglers from the sock hop all shuffle to their cars, his sister and her group of friends being among them.

Though you only met her briefly, you offer her a pleasant wave goodbye, and she smiles at you as she returns it– though you don’t miss the way she shoots her older brother a look after. A look that says “don’t fuck this up for yourself.” It almost makes you giggle– you like having his sister on your side; you get the impression she’ll chew him out if he doesn’t shape up the way he’s promised to.

Chris doesn’t turn to you until after his sister and her friends have peeled out of the parking lot– you’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to make sure she was going to be safe, or if it’s because he felt like she’d gotten enough of an eyeful of him being affection with you, and he’d be embarrassed if she saw anymore. You like either answer.

“Hi baby,” he says, soft and sweet as he smiles, and it makes your heart once again skip a beat. Even after hours of dancing, he still looks utterly perfect– not a single piece of his greased up hair out of place. You hope you’re faring the same– you didn’t really get a chance to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the night to know for certain, but you want Chris to think you look divine.

“Am I taking you straight home?” he asks; it’s dark out now, but you still have a fair amount of time before you’re expected back home. And while he’d love to spend more time with you, he isn’t going to assume– this is a trial period, after all; he still has to earn that, he’s sure.

Calling you his earlier was more hope on his end than confidence– he wants you to be his, but he knows he has to earn your trust back first. And he’s going to be a gentleman– any boundary you have, he’ll adhere to, no matter what. He refuses to fuck up with you again.

“No,” you answer short and simple, smiling up at him as you do. But before he can ask you what you want to do until curfew, you’re speaking again. “My shoe's untied,” you pout, leaning back against his car while gently lifting your foot from the ground to show him, “can you fix it for me, please?”

“You want me to tie it for you, baby?” he laughs a little as he tilts his head to the side, thinking you’re just oh so cute when you keep up the pout as you nod. He gets down on one knee easily, and you put your foot right on his knee, watching as he ties your laces back together. When he’s finished, you don’t put your foot back on the ground– you press it right to the middle of his chest.

“Baby?” Chris looks up at you curiously– and there’s a twinkle in your eye he’s never seen before. He almost thinks you’re going to kick him back on his behind, but you don’t– you take your skirt into your hands, and start to pull it up. Slowly, it rises above your calf, your knee, your thigh, until he can see your pretty white panties, with its precious little pink bow in the center.

“S-Sugar, what– what are you–” he stammers, struggling to form words in a way he never has before. You’ve never exposed yourself to him like this– just out in the open, with no barrier between you and the rest of the world. You aren’t in your bedroom, you aren’t inside the car with the windows and hood up– you’re out, in the middle of the fucking parking lot where anyone could see.

Fuck, even the times at the beach, when he made love to you in the sand, were much, much more secluded than this– because those excursions were isolated, close to your aunt’s beach house and happening in the dead of night. And this is very much not– it’s barely even 9 o’clock, and you’re at a public venue; anyone could come by, and for any reason.

“I need your help with something else too, daddy,” you say as you pout some more, clearly acting coy, and he swallows as he stares up at you. “Can you do it, daddy? Can you help me?” You take as much of your skirt's fabric into one hand as you can, keeping it lifted above your thigh while you move your other hand between your legs, pulling your panties to the side to show him your pussy.

The action sends all of Chris’ blood careening to his cock– he can’t believe you’re really doing this right now. “Right– right here? N-Now?” he gulps, taking a quick glance around the parking lot. You’re alone now, but still– he never thought you’d do something so bold. Even just fooling around in the back seat of the cadillac with as much privacy as he could give you made you impossibly shy.

“Yes, here, now,” you tell him, keeping your panties hooked to the side with two fingers, while using the other two to spread your folds apart for him the best you can. You’re trying to entice him, and fuck, is it working. He never thought he’d see you this way, and it’s making him feel so utterly electric– he’s a fucking live wire, and he’ll pour his current straight into you.

Anything you want from him, it’s yours– he doesn’t need any convincing, he’s already impossibly ensnared by the rope that is your desire for him. And fuck, he said he wouldn't do this, said he'd be a gentleman, take things slow and build back up to intimacy with you– but if you're practically begging him for it, how can he resist?

Chris takes your foot into his hand, carefully lifts it from his chest and throws your leg over his shoulder before he crawls closer to you. The concrete of the parking lot ground is brutal against his knees, but he doesn’t give a shit– you need him, and that’s all that matters.

He replaces your hand, keeps your panties shoved aside with his own. Now that your hand is free you use it to hold onto the car door and give yourself some extra support as he starts placing kisses to your clit. His lips always feel so perfect– especially when he licks them first, gets them nice and wet for you; the sensation draws out a pleasant sigh, but you both know it isn’t really enough.

Chris likes to tease you, make you wait until you’re squirming and trembling from all his repeated kisses, gets you so worked up you could beg and cry before he finally gives you his tongue. But tonight is about getting what you want, when you want it– so as much as you enjoy his soft little kisses, you’re not going to let him work you up.

He’ll be the one fraying at the edges, the one desperate and pleading, the one who feels like his brain is filled with cotton, looking up at you from down on his knees with glassy eyes full of need. You let go of the car door, bring your hand to his head and thread your fingers through his hair. You pull back just enough to have his head tilting away from your pussy, making his eyes land straight up at you.

“Baby–” he gasps, and again you meet his gaze with that sinfully deceitful pout. “You said you’d do anything for me, daddy,” you say as you shoot him your best doe eyed look, “Did you mean it? Will you do anything for me?” Fuck, you’ve got him throbbing– you can see his erection straining against his jeans, and it nearly makes you grin in delight.

Still, you don’t crack– Chris always does well at only showing you the version of himself he wants you to see, and you will too. You won’t give him your meek looks or timid declarations of desire for more of his touch– he’ll only see a new you; a confident you who knows exactly what she wants. You’ve learned from the best, after all.

“Well?” you demand when he doesn’t immediately answer, and you watch him swallow, swearing you can see the shiver that spreads down his spine and throughout the rest of his body. “Y-Yeah baby, I meant it. I’d do anything for you,” he tells you, hoping you can’t see how red his face and ears are getting in the low light.

“Prove it– prove you want me, prove you’re good for something,” you say, and again he shivers, breath catching in his throat. “Eat it, make me cum.” Fuck, Chris is reeling– he still can’t even believe it’s really you talking to him this way. His brain feels like a faulty circuit board, all his synapses sparking dangerously as they fire off, ready to ignite his blood and engulf him in an uncontrollable flame of desire.

When you let go of his hair, he wastes no time diving right into your pussy, eating you out like a man starved. He brings his free hand to your ass, squeezes and holds you in place while he shakes his head to get more of you on his tongue, his nose bumping your clit and making your legs quiver.

You bite your lip, doing your best to suppress the loud moan he brings out of you by sucking on your clit. His plush lips wrapped around it, the flicks of his tongue, how expertly he sucks– it’s already so overwhelming, in the best way possible. Chris does his best to sink lower, tries to lick at your hole and get his tongue inside, but it’s hard like this– he’s not sure if he can.

“B-Baby, doll, let me lay you down, in the car, let me–” he pulls away from your dripping center to look up at you, and fuck, he looks ruined in the prettiest way imaginable. His eyes are hazy and pleading, glistening with your arousal from the tip of his nose all the way down to his chin, sweat dripping down his brow. “Need to spread you out, I– please? Gotta taste more of you.”

Shit, you can’t deny you want it– especially not when he’s begging like this. You nod, and he smiles at you in appreciation, a smile that makes your knees even weaker than they already are. You take your leg off his shoulder, and he quickly rises to his feet, giving you a messy kiss before he ushers you away from the car door to open it for you.

You crawl into the back seat, and he follows, slamming the door shut behind him. He waits until you get comfortable, not acting until you're lying propped against the opposite door of the car. Chris hooks your panties in his fingers, pulls them down your legs and tosses them aside into the footwell; it'll be a sweet treat for him when he finds them again later.

He'll keep them, he thinks– stuff ‘em in his pocket and take them back to his room, where they'll lie safe and protected under his pillow. It's a dirty thought, one that'd otherwise fill his gut with shame, but right now all he feels is need– need for you to cum on his tongue, need to give you everything you want and more.

He settles on his stomach between your legs, and it’s certainly not easy, but he manages well enough. One of your legs ends up over his shoulder again while the other stays spread out with the help of his hand holding you under the knee. And finally, his tongue dips into your hole, and it’s pure bliss– maybe even more so for him than you. He’s hungry, utterly ravenous; all he can think, breath, and taste is you, you, you.

“Chris– your fingers, need your fingers,” you whine more shamelessly than you would've otherwise liked, but you know he enjoys it. He separates from you long enough to run his fingers between your folds, making sure they’re nice and slick for you before he presses them to your hole.

He slides one finger in first, bringing his mouth back to your clit while you adjust to the feeling. Your legs are already trembling by the time he adds another finger, and when he starts curling his fingers to hit your most sensitive spot while flicking his tongue against your clit you can hardly even breathe– it’s just so, so good.

Your stomach is clenching, thighs and legs shaking hard, your release building up with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “Oh, fuck, Chris–” you cry when he presses the tips of his fingers into your spot harder. You’re certain that if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re still wearing your shoes, your toes would be curling from the pleasure.

Your pussy sounds so sloppy and messy, and Chris himself isn’t making it any better– he’s drooling so much, his saliva drenching you just as much as your own dripping arousal. You’re breathing hard, and even your hands are shaking as they continue to hold up your skirt to watch him devour you.

“Oh my god, ‘m gonna cum, I’m gonna– fuck, gonna cum for you daddy, please don’t stop,” you’re crying loud– and you know you should at least try to be quieter considering how out in the open you are, but you’re too far gone to care. With your head thrown back, you whimper and moan, high pitched and loud, eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you.

It feels like it’s endless, the waves of pleasure ceaselessly jolting your body as your vision blurs white; and you feel wet; so, so wet. It’s only when you finally come down from the high and lift your head back up from where it thunked against the car door to look at Chris that you realize why you feel so drenched.

It’s not just your thighs that are dampened– it’s your skirt, Chris’ face and shirt, the leather of his seats; all of it is soaked with your cum. Your face starts to burn hot, and you swallow as Chris stares at you, almost bewildered. “Baby– did you just..?” You squirted for him, because of him– he doesn’t even fucking care how much of a nightmare it’s going to be to clean his car, all he can think about is how fucking sexy it is.

You simply nod, because it’s all you can think to do– you really weren’t expecting this to happen. “Oh my god, baby, you have to do it again, please, you have to,” he practically whines, and his enthusiasm over it makes you giggle. You honestly feel more than a little shy about it, but Chris’s apparent elation makes it worth the tinge of embarrassment.

You reach out for him, take the necklace dangling from his neck into your hands and pull, urging him to come closer to you. He crawls up your body, and you kiss him, sliping your tongue into his mouth and tasting yourself all over him. “Fuck, you’re so dirty baby,” he groans when you pull away, “what are we going to do, huh?”

It makes you giggle again, a soft thing full of mischievous delight. He basks in it, giggles with you before he kisses you again. “Need your cock now,” you tell him when he pulls away, and shit, he’d nearly forgotten how fucking hard he is whilst wrapped up in pleasuring you. He can feel it straining against his jeans, desperate for stimulation of its own.

“Yeah? Want my cock baby?” he asks, grinning at you the way he always had before; you tug on his silver chain again in response. “Don’t forget, you’re giving me everything I want. Everything, okay?” you say once his face is mere inches from yours again, making him look you closely in the eyes. Chris swallows as he nods, the smile you offer him once again making his brain feel fuzzy and floaty.

He looks you over once more, really takes it all in before he scrambles over the front seat, reaching for the glove box where he still has some spares from your time together over the summer. Condom in hand, he settles back over you, and you help him with his jeans while he tears the package open. He spreads it quickly down his length, and you take your legs in hand, holding them under your knees to keep yourself open for him.

The sight of you like that is dizzying– legs open, skirt bunched up all the way to your stomach, pussy wet and glistening, with the hair there matting from how wet you are; you’re perfect. So fucking perfect. He moans as he pushes into you, so slick that you take him with ease. You take his face in one of your hands and pull him down to kiss you, a desperate one that makes pleasure lick over every inch of his skin.

Chris rolls his hips into you slowly to start, while you let go of the leg you're still holding to wrap your limbs around him, keeping him pressed close. He grabs onto the car door, uses it to keep himself steady when he starts to pick up the pace of his hips, harsh breaths and low moans leaving him freely. Neither of you are trying to be quiet, the street lights are burning bright, the hood of his car and the windows are down, anyone could hear you or see you– and the excitement of it all makes the pleasure he feels all the more intense.

“Baby, your tits– let me see ‘em, please, can I see ‘em?” he asks between labored breaths– he needs to see them, has missed them more than is probably allowed. You quickly do as he asks, fumbling with the top few buttons of your blouse to expose yourself to him. You tug down your bra so he can see your breasts bare, and again he groans, bringing his free hand to one of them to brush his thumb over your hardened nipple.

“Oh, you’re so pretty– so, so pretty baby,” he says, groaning when the words make you clench harder around him. It doesn’t take long for the car to start rocking with the motion of his thrusts, his rhythm quickly growing sloppier. He’s been so worked up, and believe it or not, he hasn’t actually fucked anyone since you– he feels so high strung and on edge, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.

He just hopes he can make you cum again before he does, or at least make you cum with him– he needs you to be happy with him. You can feel his cock twitching and throbbing, you can tell that he’s already impossibly close– so, like the little minx you are, you talk dirty to him, wanting to see him utterly unravel at the seams. “You gonna fill me up, daddy? Make this pussy all yours?”

Chris gasps and shudders, goosebumps erupting all over his impossibly hot skin. He knows he can’t actually– all he’s going to really fill up with his cum is the condom, but fuck, the thought of it is making his head swim. “Y-Yeah, gonna fill you up baby, daddy’s gonna make you so full,” he breathes, and God, that really does it for you.

You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick, practiced circles. Even through the condom he can feel you gushing and soaking his cock, and it sends him over the edge– as do the sounds of your incredibly pretty whimpers and moans of pleasure. His hips still when he cums, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes roll back, head thrown back in utmost bliss.

It takes Chris a few moments to recollect himself and catch his breath, and he slowly slips out of you when does. He tucks his softening length back in his jeans before he helps you fix your bra, and smoothes your skirt out over your legs while you button your blouse back up. “You feeling okay, baby?” he asks, wiping messy strands of hair out of your face.

You’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, faces flushed and hot, hair utterly a mess– it’s obvious, even with your clothes fixed up, what you’ve been doing. “Mhm, are you?” you ask, and he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “I’m peachy keen, jelly bean,” he replies and you giggle, kissing him once more.

He looks at himself in his rearview mirror when he pulls away, does his best to fix his messy hair while you lift yourself up from your propped position and stretch out your aching limbs. He then takes another glance around the parking lot, and notes that you’re still the only ones here– thank God. He was too enraptured by you to check earlier, and he’s grateful that no one else has showed up.

“Should probably get you home now, yeah?” Chris asks, looking at the clock on his dashboard and noticing it’s now getting dangerously close to your 10 o’clock curfew. He helps you get into the passenger seat when you nod, and you smile at him when he settles in beside you. He turns the key in the ignition, one hand resting on your thigh while the other stays on the wheel, and he drives you home.

Chris parks up the street, like he did all those times at your aunt’s beach house. He watches you walk over to your house, and he smiles when you turn around to blow him a kiss. At 11 he leaves his car, walks up the street to your home, and approaches the only window with a light still on– the window to your new bedroom. And you smile as you open it for him, letting him crawl his way inside.

He sees the teddy bear he won you at the fair sitting right in the middle of your bed, nestled against your pillows, and he smiles, delighted that you still kept it even after he broke your heart. “I love you, baby,” he tells you in a whisper after a sweet kiss, “never gonna hurt you again, I promise.”

“You better keep that promise, mister. Or I might just have to make you jealous again,” you warn and tease him with a cheeky little smile. He strips out of his jeans and tee shirt as you turn off your lamp, lies down beside you after you settle into your bed, runs his hand up and down your back as you press yourself against him. Head on his chest, with your arm and leg tossed over him, he kisses your head and smiles once more– because as he promised, this is just the start of a lifetime.

network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet

#ksmutsociety #skzstarnet #skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz fanfic #bang chan fanfic #skz imagines #skz scenarios #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune #don't ask me how many times i rewatched the movie while in the process of writing this. (the answer is 10 DFSGDGFG)

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fbfh · 1 year

Text

rodrick x hyperfeminine reader hcs 2

wc: 1.7k

genre: mutual pining, minor angst

pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine!reader

warnings: houseparty, madison and heather aren't very good friends, one brief mention of alcohol/underage drinking but no one is obviously drunk, Brent keeps flirting with you and can't take a hint but it's annoying and inconvenient at most, minor miscommunication, sad roddy at the end

summary: after getting all dolled up for your party (which is really just an excuse to see rodrick and his band play) you spend the whole night not getting to do the one thing you want to do - see Rodrick.

song rec: teenage dirtbag - wheatus, and I imagine them playing put your money on me - the struts, basket case - green day, and of course, diper overlode - loded diper at the party

a/n: the long awaited part 2 is here!! and yes there will be a part 3 that takes place at prom lol

tags at the bottom (tagging all the people who asked for part 2 as well lol)

You’ve spent all week planning your party

Now it’s finally friday after school, and Heather and Madison are at your place, taking on the monumental task of deciding what you’re going to wear

You decide on the new pair of heels you got as your inspiration piece

They’re baby pink and strappy, with a butterfly shape made of little diamonds on the front

You’ve been absolutely obsessed with them, and the party seems like the perfect opportunity to break them in

You dig around in your closet, pulling a few of your other pink dresses

It’s not much of a contest when you see them laid out, and you choose the light pink satin one to go with your shoes

You listen to Heather and Madison gossip while you dig through your jewelry and nail polish, finding some coordinating accessories and your next mani pedi color

“Which earrings?” You ask them, holding up two pairs.

“That one.” They say in unison, pointing to the one on your left

You were leaning toward that pair anyway, so you’re glad they agree

After finalizing some details and going over what they’re going to wear, all your party outfits are planned

Heather and Madison leave to get dressed, promising to be back within the hour so you can all help each other with hair and makeup

You’ve practically become their personal beauty guru since you became friends

You always know just what to do to make their makeup look flawless and their hair cooperate when it’s being stubborn

You’re a big ball of nerves while you get the last details set up

Snacks are laid out, drinks are set up

Now all you need is the people

And more importantly

The band

As people show up, Heather drags you around to socialize

You swear, she must make you say hi to every single person there

If you were a little more cynical, you might pick up on the fact that Heather is trying to keep you away from Rodrick

Rodrick, who you’ve been thinking about non stop since you first saw him

You spend the whole time looking around for him and his band

You think you see him across the room once, but it’s a girl with a dark brown pixie cut

It’s hard to tell in this lighting, and you’re glad you caught it before you made a really awkward mistake

You’re sure it would have been a funny anecdote that lead to you being friends after

On your way back, you get stopped by Brad

He insists on pulling you aside to talk, which Heather and Madison encourage

But right now all you want is to find Rodrick

And all Rodrick wants is to find you

They’re almost warmed up and ready for their set

And GOD he’s never been more excited for a gig

He’s so ready to go all out

To impress you

And to avoid all Justin Bieber songs to prevent another Heather’s sweet 16 incident

He fidgets with his drumsticks and looks around again

He still doesn’t see you

Which sucks, because he’s been thinking about this exact moment non stop since loded diper got this dream of a gig

He’s been making the boys practice way more than normal

Much to his parent’s dismay (even though they’re starting to sound pretty good)

To avoid another Heather Hills sweet 16 situation

But more importantly, to impress you

When Rodrick fell asleep every night this week, he had a variation of the same dream

Playing at this party, rocking the house so hard people talk about it for years afterwards, and getting to see you

You’re so beautiful, standing dead center at the front of the crowd, looking up at him the whole time

They barely finish their set when you weave your way through the band, and walk right up to him

His heart is pounding as you start praising him, telling him how good he was, how you want to be his little rockstar’s girlfriend

He usually gets so excited he wakes himself up after that

And now

It’s finally happening

His literal dreams are coming true

His band got a great gig

And he gets to play for you

This is probably the biggest opportunity since battle of the bands

The guys know how much he’s been looking forward to this

It’s all he’s been talking about

He really thinks that if everything goes perfect, he might be able to shoot his shot with you

He just has to focus

Focus on playing a perfect gig, focus on figuring out how to woo you

Once they’re all warmed up and hyped up, they start their set

You can hear the band starting to tune up from the other room, and try for what feels like the millionth time to slip away from Brent

You’ve had to turn him down more times than you can count, and he still can’t take a goddamn hint

“I really have to go check on my friends…” you trail off, finally slipping into the crowd

You manage to find Madison, who signals to Heather, and soon all three of you are hiding in the bathroom

You catch your breath for a little while, touching up your makeup while Heather checks herself out and fluffs her hair

Madison sits nearby, texting someone

After a little while, you sigh, figuring you should all get back

Heather and Madison share a look while you straighten out your necklace

Heather walks to the door with Madison right behind her

She pokes her head out of the door, then closes it quickly

“Brent is right down the hall,” she says, turning back to you as Madison nods, “we should wait in here a little longer

It feels like you wait in the bathroom forever while Heather occasionally sending Madison out to check

After a little while you hear faint music

Your stomach drops

You can’t miss the band, the whole point of throwing this party was getting to see Rodrick and loded diper play

“Did they start already?” you ask, walking toward the door

Heather grabs your arm before you can open it, telling you Brent is still right outside, and sends Madison to go check if the band started yet

Madison comes back a minute later

“They’re still warming up,” she says, sharing a look with Heather

A little while later, the music gets louder and you don’t want to risk missing their show

You leave the bathroom before Heather and Madison can stop you

You’re met with loud rock music reverberating through the house

Definitely not just warming up

You try to get to the other room where they’re playing so you don’t miss the rest of their set

Before you get very far, Brent catches your eye and cuts through the crowd

He follows you around and keeps trying to pull you aside to flirt and talk and get you to go out with him

You manage to get to the doorway of the room they’re playing when he pins you against the wall

He’s going on and on about how you’d be perfect together, you’d be lucky to get with him, everyone at school wants him

But all you can think about is how great the band sounds

They’re like a perfect blend of all the best pop punk and rock groups you’ve ever heard

Right off the bat, you pick out influences from green day, my chemical romance, and metallica

You’re really fucking impressed

You didn’t expect them to be this good, and you didn’t have low expectations to begin with

You just wish you could get away from Brent to really get to see the rest of their set before it’s over

When the song ends, you hear Rodricks voice and stretch up to try and see him as he leans into the mic

“Thank you, we are Loded Diper! Fuck authority!” he looks over at Chris, then leans back into the mic “And the patriarchy!”

Your stomach sinks as you realize you missed most of their show, but you still cheer louder than anyone else in the room

Rodrick lets out a little puff of air when Chris taps his shoulder, getting his attention

“Uh, listen man…” Chris starts, but Rodrick doesn’t hear what he says after that

He looks over to where Chris is gesturing, and his heart sinks

Brent has you pinned against the wall across the room, and you two are looking awfully cozy together

“Shit…” Rodrick says

Once again, he looks like an idiot for thinking he has a chance with you

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Ben says, signaling to Ward to help them bring their stuff back out to the van

They wrap it up and leave quickly, and Ward, Ben, and Chris try to figure out how to help their heartbroken drummer

You spend the rest of the party looking for Rodrick

You hope he stuck around, you really want to tell him how great he was

When the alcohol runs out and the party’s over, Madison and Heather sleep over, helping you clean up

Technically Heather makes Madison help you clean up

All they can talk about is prom coming up, but your mind is still on Rodrick

And how you didn’t get to see him

You wish you could have told him how amazing he was

Even if he’s not into you like you’re really, really into him

You just want him to know that you could listen to his music all day and never get tired of it

“...coordinating dates, and-” Heather says, turning to you suddenly, “you’re going to help us pick out dresses, right?”

You nod, flashing her a smile and hoping to disguise your disappointment at how the night went

“Yeah,” you answer as she goes on about finding you all dates

But you know that if you can’t go to prom with Rodrick, you won’t want to go at all

You just hope by some miracle you’ll get to dance with him, at least once

@dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @marveldemigod17 @celootaku1 @stay-to-reblog @whos-mixxie @mikulovingtrash @inthemindofaweirdo @b0nes-phobic @myymmeloo @wanderlustingcastaway @debbi3-debaser @lubunnii @imaybewrongbutidoubtit @cloverhasnobrain @bessonasa @strangelysamantha @1-800-starkindustrie @brookeskitty @1ummcalhoody6 @always1s4youbitch-blog @citri-koi @vincentluvr444 @brunnetteiwik @melllinaa @reeces-pieses @mentamaree @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @jinniy

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #doawk rodrick #rodrick x reader #rodrick #rodrick x hyperfeminine!reader #rodrick x girly reader #AWWWGHGHHN I HOPE ITS WORTH THE WAIT

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wherethefireliliesgrow · 29 days

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Birds of a Feather

Pham Hanni x F reader

GENRE: fluff, slight angst

TAGS: college love, friends to lovers

TYPE: One Shot

Inspired by: Birds of a Feather - Billie Eilish

A jump and rustle in your bed woke you up with a start. Your heart raced at the shock and possibility of an intruder. But before you could turn on the lights, the familiar smell of citrus and raspberries filled the air. It was your best friend and flatmate, Hanni.

She had flopped face-first onto your pillow next to you, her annoyed groan slightly muffled. Your heart thumped loudly at the close proximity of her skin next to yours, but you quickly rubbed your eyes, trying to wipe away the drowsiness and the tingling feeling in your chest.

“What the hell, Pham?” you muttered, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. “Why are you in my room at 3 in the morning?”

She merely pushed her face deeper into your pillow and inhaled, sighing in defeat.

Hanni was many things—she may be a tiny little thing, but she was insanely loud, vibrant, and expressive. So her silence meant something was seriously wrong. That was when you remembered she had left last night for a date with another boy from her major. She had been so excited, but it seemed the date did not go well. You secretly cheered at the thought of her not falling for another guy, but guilt quickly followed. Your friend was here, wallowing in misery, and all you could think about was your own feelings.

“I take it the date with Jun didn’t go well?” you softly asked, reaching over to stroke her raven-black hair.

Finally deciding to answer, she turned around and buried her face in your neck, her small body curling toward your warmth. You wrapped your arm around her and pulled her close, soothing her like you had since you met in freshman year. Your bodies fit together perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle, or birds of a feather.

“It was… okay,” she muttered defeatedly.

“Then what’s wrong? I thought you liked him.”

Hanni let out another sigh, her cool breath brushing against your neck and sending shivers through your body.

“I thought he was cute. But it just doesn’t feel right. There’s no connection, no spark.”

“Don’t force it if it doesn’t feel right,” you said, rubbing her arm soothingly.

“But when will it ever feel right?” Her voice raised slightly, a hint of tears in her eyes.

“I’ve been on at least twenty dates in the past few months, and none of them ever feel right. I’m so tired of this. Maybe I’m just not meant to be with anyone. Maybe no one would ever like me.”

Your heart twinged at hearing Hanni say this. It pained you to see such a wonderful and sweet girl doubt herself so much, beaten down by all the failed dates and rejections.

“Don’t say that, Hanni. From my time with you as your best friend and roommate, I can assure you that you are very lovable and one of the best people in the world. You deserve all the love you can find. Don’t ever let anyone else make you think otherwise.”

Hanni paused in silence at your words, and you started to sweat, worried that she had caught on to your feelings. The room was too dark for you to see her expression, but finally, she softly leaned her head toward you and pressed her lips on your cheek gently before drawing back.

“Thank you, Y/N, for being here, for being my best friend,” she whispered, before cuddling back into you.

Her breathing slowed, indicating that she had fallen asleep.

Your face burned where her lips had touched. You knew this was the closest thing to love you could get from her, but you were content with just being her friend.

The blow of the whistle echoed in the gymnasium, along with the roar from the crowd in the stands. Your volleyball team had managed to catch up to the competing team, head-to-head in the final round of the quarter-finals. Hanni knew her friends were talking about something, but her eyes stayed glued to you, watching you furrow your brows in concentration as you listened to your coach discuss the next game plan.

“If you stare any harder, your eyes are going to fall out,” Minji, one of her close friends and the class president, teased the shorter girl, nudging her gently out of her trance.

“Huh?” Hanni finally drew her eyes away from you and looked back to see her group of friends all looking at her with stupid, knowing grins on their faces.

“Sorry, what were you guys saying?”

“We were talking about when you were going to ask Y/N out,” Haerin drawled, her cat-like eyes glinting with mischief.

“What?” Hanni quickly shook her head, her heart pounding at the thought. “I don’t like Y/N.”

“If you say so,” Haerin snickered, enjoying watching her friend panic.

“Seriously, I’m not gay,” Hanni’s voice raised slightly, tinged with both anger and fear that they had caught on to her feelings.

“We know, Haerin was just joking,” Danielle quickly cut in. Ever so sweet and a ball of sunshine, she smoothly changed the subject to soothe Hanni’s nerves. “What do you guys want for dinner after?”

As the girls chattered around her, all Hanni could hear was her blood rushing in her ears. She wasn’t gay; she couldn’t be. She only dated boys, even if the dates were always disappointing. She just cared for you as a friend—a best friend. Yes, that must be it. She liked paying attention to you because that’s what a good friend should do. She tried to push the thoughts of how much she enjoyed your attention, how nice it felt to be in your arms, out of her head.

You leaped up high and struck the volleyball, the ball moving so fast that Hanni couldn’t see anything but a blur of white, followed by the sound of a slam and the referee’s whistle. The crowd roared in glee as your teammates all piled on top of you. You had made the final point and secured your school’s ticket to the finals.

Hanni jumped to her feet and screamed your name, waving a towel with your last name on it in celebration.

“Whipped,” Minji muttered to Haerin, and Hyein snickered. Danielle quickly turned around to shush the older girl, but was also grinning as they watched Hanni run from the stands and onto the court to congratulate you.

You caught her mid-jump and twirled her around, the number on your jersey catching the court light as it mirrored the one on Hanni’s body.

Ever since the girls mentioned the idea of Hanni having feelings for you, she tried her hardest to avoid having these allegations whenever you guys hung out in public. Hanni, who was always around, who always filled the room with her bright energy, began to drift away. She started to avoid you. It wasn’t immediate, but you noticed. It started with her not sitting next to you in classes, then she stopped responding to your texts as quickly as she used to. Eventually, she stopped joining in on Friday movie nights in the living room. She used to look forward to these so much.

You couldn't understand what had changed. Everything was fine until the game. The closeness you two shared, the comfort in each other's presence, was suddenly replaced by a wall that the shorter girl seemed determined to build. When you asked her if everything was okay, she’d shrug it off, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ve just been busy,” she’d say, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her honey-brown hues eyes. “Lots of assignments, you know?”

But you knew it wasn’t just assignments. The warmth that used to be in her voice when she talked to you had been replaced by something cold, something distant. She no longer confided you in her problems, no longer snuggled up towards you, and no longer wanted to spend time with you.

Your friends noticed too. Minji, Haerin, and Danielle would exchange glances when they saw the two of you together, the awkward tension between you crushing the room. They didn’t say anything directly, but their concern was evident in the way they tried to lighten the mood, filling the silence with jokes and stories. But it wasn’t the same.

One evening, after another failed attempt to talk to Hanni, you lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering where things went wrong. Your chest felt heavy, like you were carrying around a weight that you couldn’t shake off. All you wanted was to understand, to know why she was pulling away. But Hanni kept her distance, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the growing ache in your heart. Did she somehow, figure out your feelings for her? Did the thought of you liking her make her withdraw in disgust?

The dreams of her haunted you once again.

A few week passed with little change. You decided to get some fresh air, clear your mind from the confusion that had been clouding it. Your shared flat was too quiet, and Hanni’s door was always shut, as if she wanted to keep you away from her as much as she could.

You went off campus, deciding to visit your cousin Jimin. She always knew how to help you make sense of things. As you sat in a small, cozy coffee shop, you poured your heart out to her, explaining how Hanni had changed, how you didn’t understand what had gone wrong.

Jimin listened patiently, her eyes full of empathy. “Maybe she’s going through something she doesn’t know how to talk about,” she suggested, placing her hand on yours in a comforting gesture.

Unbeknownst to you, Hanni had walked past the coffee shop at that very moment. She had heard you leave the dorm and decided to go for a walk herself.

Though she seemed nonchalant, the time away from you had taken a toll on her. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and she couldn't eat. All she wanted was to crawl back into your arms and apologize for pulling away. You must be so confused about the sudden distance. She was confused herself. She had finally come to terms with the fact that the reason all her relationships and dates had failed was that she had feelings for you all along. A part of her wanted to confess, but a bigger part had convinced herself that she could get through this silly crush on you if she just avoided you, that it was just a phase.

But maybe, just maybe, you liked her too. This thought lingered in her mind, fueled by her friends who kept insisting that you had feelings for her.

She promised herself she would talk to you soon.

As she walked through the town, the autumn chill made her pull her jacket tighter. She couldn’t help but think of the times you would take off your scarf and wrap it around her because she was too cold, or the way you’d laugh at her pink nose and buy her a cup of hot coffee.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, her heart sank as she saw you in a random coffee shop with another girl. The way the girl’s hand rested on yours twisted something painfully in her chest. She felt a sudden surge of jealousy, something she didn’t want to acknowledge. In her mind, she began to piece together a story that wasn’t true—that you had moved on, that you had found someone else, or that you never liked her in the first place.

After all, she was a girl who could never find love.

The rest of the day, Hanni couldn’t focus on anything. All she could think of was the pretty girl paying attention to everything you said, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked, and the sight of her hand in yours.

That night, Hanni took a pair of scissors and chopped her hair short, the long locks that you used to run your hands through falling to the floor. Snip after snip, she chopped off her hair the way you had broken her heart, piece by piece. She stared at herself in the mirror, her heart racing as she tried to convince herself that this was a fresh start, a way to move on from the confusing feelings she had for you.

The next day, when you saw Hanni with her new haircut, you were shocked. She looked different—fierce, determined, but there was something else behind her eyes, something that didn’t quite fit the image she was trying to project. You couldn’t help but wonder what had driven her to such a drastic change. She had always adored her long hair. Though you thought she looked just as good with short hair and choppy bangs, you thought she looked good in anything, to be honest.

“You cut your hair,” you said, trying to sound casual, but the surprise in your voice was evident.

“Yeah, felt like a change,” she replied curtly, not meeting your gaze.

“Why?”

“It’s really none of your business.” She snapped, instantly regretting it when she saw the hurt look on your face.

Hanni quickly grabbed her bag and left for her morning class, the one she had with you.

The tension between you both only grew thicker. The silence that used to be comfortable now felt suffocating. Days passed without much exchange until one evening, something snapped. Hanni had had a terrible day and overheard NingNing, her classmate, talking about considering asking you out since you seemed to be open to dating now.

You were in the kitchen, preparing a late dinner, when Hanni walked in, her expression hard to read.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Why would anything be wrong?” Hanni shot back, her tone sharper than you expected.

“I don’t know, Hanni. You’ve been acting strange, avoiding me. If I did something, can’t you just tell me?”

She clenched her fists, her breath quickening. “Maybe you should go ask the girl you were with at the coffee shop.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You blinked, trying to process what she had just said. “The coffee shop? What coffee shop? What girl?”

“The one by the train station.” Hanni rubbed her forehead in frustration, trying to calm herself down. “Aren’t you dating her or something?”

Your eyes widened, and your mouth formed an O. You looked so stupid and adorable, and all Hanni wanted to do was punch you (or kiss you).

“Hanni, that was my cousin Jimin.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the color draining from her face as the realization dawned on her.

“Your cousin? I never knew you had a cousin.”

“Yeah, she was here on a business tri—”

Before either of you could say anything more, a loud thump echoed from the window. Hanni let out a scream, her scream scaring you more than the thump itself. The room fell silent, both of you turning toward the sound.

“What was that?” Hanni whispered, her voice shaky.

You moved toward the window, your heart pounding.

“Y/N!” Hanni hissed, reaching to pull you back. “Don’t go too close. It might be a serial killer.”

At that comment, you snorted and decided to walk forward.

Pulling the curtain aside, you saw a pigeon lying on the ground, its wing awkwardly bent.

“It’s just a pigeon,” you said, opening the window carefully.

“Get it out of here,” Hanni said, her voice rising with panic. She backed away, her fear of birds evident in the way she trembled.

“Y/N, I’m serious. Pigeons are covered in germs.”

Ignoring her protests, you gently brought the pigeon inside, placing it on the table.

“It’s hurt, Hanni. I’m calling Dani. She’ll know what to do.”

A few minutes later, Danielle arrived, her vet kit in hand. She worked quickly, soothing the frightened bird and bandaging its wing. Hanni watched from the doorway, her fear momentarily forgotten as she observed the tenderness with which you handled the situation. You looked at the pigeon so softly and caringly, while Hanni just thought it was the ugliest bird ever. It was balding, and just a flurry of gray and white spots.

“Thank you, Dani,” you said as she finished up, giving you a reassuring smile before she left.

“It’s never a problem, Y/N. Bring it to the clinical room tomorrow, and our professors can check it out.” Dani said cheerfully, her grin brightening the whole room.

“I’m glad you guys are talking again,” she giggled, before shutting the door behind her.

As the door closed, the room was quiet again, but the tension between you and Hanni remained. She looked at you, her eyes filled with regret, and for a moment, you thought she might say something. But she simply averted her gaze and focused her attention on the bird.

“That bird is not staying in my room,” she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

You shrugged, at least she was talking to you again. “I’ll keep it in mine then.”

“It’s one of the ugliest birds I’ve ever seen.” She walked a bit closer to the pigeon, which gave a weird squawk and turned its bald head to look at her.

“Yeah, it’s kinda ugly.”

The two of you stood in the middle of the living room awkwardly, looking anywhere except at each other.

“I’m going to name it Pablo,” Hanni said suddenly before walking back to her room.

You laughed at her randomness, feeling a bit better than you had in weeks.

The door to Hanni’s room was left half-open.

Neither of you addressed the weird distance that had grown between you over the past few weeks. But Hanni seemed to be in a better mood, and you noticed that she was slowly warming up to you again. She even visited Pablo with you, despite her initial disgust toward birds. Sometimes, she would bring bird seeds for the pigeon to snack on or sing to him with her beautiful, sweet voice when she thought you couldn’t hear her.

You weren’t back to normal, but you were getting there.

Hanni, on the other hand, had a plan. After all the heartbreak and misunderstandings she had accidentally caused, she was determined to set things right. She couldn’t imagine herself dating anyone else but you, and the thought of you holding someone else made her heart ache.

So she was thinking of a way to confess to you. She wanted nothing more than to be in your arms again, but as the days blurred into weeks and winter’s snow melted away into spring, she still hadn’t mustered the courage.

That was until the day you were to release Pablo back into the wild.

It was spring, and Dani had said that Pablo’s wing was fully healed and that it was the perfect time for him to rejoin nature.

As you and Hanni said your goodbyes to Pablo (you teared up a bit, while Hanni, still wary of the bird, merely poked its now fluffy head with her forefinger tenderly), she insisted on tying a small pink ribbon on one of Pablo’s feet.

“Just in case he ever flies by, I’ll recognize him,” she explained with a shy smile.

You drove to a nearby park with Hanni, talking and laughing along the way, similar to what you used to do, but with a sense of shyness hanging in the air.

Hanni opened the cage to let him go.

The two of you watched as he took flight, joining a flock of pigeons in the trees.

Finally, deciding to brave yourself again, you asked, “Hanni, what did I do before to make you hate me?”

Hanni’s face fell, sadness washing over her as she realized how you’d been feeling.

“I never hated you. I hated myself.” She whispered.

“Why?”

Hanni took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. “I was confused about how I felt about you. I like you, Y/N, and I was so scared of that. I was scared that you didn’t like me back or that maybe I wasn’t really... you know, into girls.”

You sighed, relief and understanding flooding your heart.

You reached down to grab her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’ve always liked you, Hanni. I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Hanni’s eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and happiness. Her sweet face broke into a smile, the smile that she reserved only for you, and stood on her tiptoes. She wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer, so close that you could feel her breath on your lips. The smell of citrus on her skin was dizzying, in the best way.

The flock of pigeons took flight behind the two of you, their wings flapping in the background as if in celebration.

Hanni looked up at you, her voice soft and full of meaning. “I kept thinking... that’s us.”

You frowned, confused. “The pigeons?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her smile growing. “We’re birds of a feather. We belong together.”

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Hanni, you’re scared of birds.”

Hanni playfully rolled her eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

As Hanni’s words hung in the air, a playful smirk danced on her lips, but her eyes shone with a deep, genuine vulnerability. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the world around you fading into the background as the moment between you grew more intense. The light breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the soft scent of blooming flowers, but all you could focus on was her.

When your lips finally met, it was gentle at first—soft, tentative, as if testing the waters. But then, as if something clicked, the kiss deepened, full of the emotions you’d both been holding back.

Her hand slid up to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while you wrapped your arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

When you finally broke apart, it was only because you both needed to breathe. Hanni’s forehead rested against yours, her eyes half- closed, a soft smile playing on her lips. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. You could feel her breath on your face, still quick and uneven, and you realized yours was the same.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. Your thumb gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

Hanni chuckled softly, her laugh full of relief and happiness.

“Me too,” she said, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes again. “Me too.”

The start of the new semester filled you with a sense of excitement. It had been just a year since you and Hanni had gotten together, and everything seemed brighter.

One morning, as Hanni was drying her hair with a towel, a loud thump against the window startled her. She let out a small scream, her hands flailing in surprise and nearly poking her eye.

“Are you okay, babe?” you called out from your shared room, the term still feeling endearing and intimate.

Hurrying out of the room, you found Hanni standing by the window, her eyes wide with fear as she pointed at something outside.

You sighed and walked over to her, gently pulling the curtains aside. The scene outside was familiar yet baffling—an ugly pigeon with a pink ribbon tied around its leg was perched on the windowsill. But this time, there was something different: the pigeon had made a nest and was now sitting on a batch of eggs.

Hanni blinked in disbelief and turned to you, her confusion in her voice.

“Pablo is a girl???”

A bit rushed 🥶 Getting kind of rusty after not writing for a while

#kpop fanfic #gxg #kpop imagines #wlw #kpop fic #newjeans #newjeans imagines #fluff #angst fic #kpop #hanni pham #wherethefireliliesgrow #pham hanni #newjeans x reader #newjeans hanni #pham hanni x reader #hanni x reader

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soullessdianthus · 3 months

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 | 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐔

❗ APOLOGIES for the tag list in the comments, Tumblr has an issue with tagging more than 5 people ❗

Summary: Victorian AU where you are hired by Lord Simon Riley as his housekeeper in the secluded countryside. Besides the gardener - Johnny, you barely sees anyone around the house and the strange things begin to happen around you. The manor, or rather its residents, hides a terryfing secret.

AO3 link ⟶ 𝕏

A/N: Huge thanks to @starsexplodeatnight who was so kind and sweet to help me with the fashion aspects of this fic. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Also, won't lie, @ohbo-ohno's works and Ghoap dynamics inspired me to go back to the roots and to write some darker, gothic romance with Ghoap and Reader. At least I tried. ╮(￣▽￣"")╭

Warnings: dark themes, religious themes, dubcon/noncon (full list on Ao3)

Word count: 7.6k

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄

Lord Riley’s house seemed to be alive at times. The wind sweeping through the draughty windows fills the lungs of the great manor. Old, wooden flooring creaks and the glass strain within its frames.

You hated how untamed your imagination was especially after nightfall, when the darkness creeped in every hollow and corner of the manor. Since the first day, every night you would leave a single candle lit on the bedside table just to ease the vivid imaginations. When you were a child your mother scolded you about reading such profanities about ghosts and curses.

And now you knew why. If the candle wasn't lit, strange figures danced in the shadows, their eyes imprinting into your skin and if were they real, would they try to hurt you or rather warn you?

But now, as a grown up woman, those nightmares of your childhood came back to haunt you once again.

With all of your heart you were grateful for Sir Jonathan Price, a friend of your family, who helped you get into Lord Riley’s favour. It was him who wrote a letter of recommendation to make it easier for you to find a good, suitable job as a woman of your status.

But he didn’t mention once that the manor was so far from civilization.

Johnny quickly became your closest confidant around here. A Scottish gardener whose brown hair reached down to his broad shoulders and sparkly eyes in the colour of clear sky. He took care of the gardens as well as master’s horses and sometimes you could find him repairing a fence or something of sort. Johnny was a hardworking man, only a few years older than you, but he was also gentle, clever and jolly.

Such an opposite to Lord Simon who was everything but what Scot was – silent, harsh former lieutenant who would rather spend his time in the solitude of his chambers. Otherwise he would go on a ride or hunt into the forest on one of his favourite studs. Simon’s face was pale as a ghost’s and covered with shallow scars, remnants of his service in the army.

Nonetheless, the tall, portly man seemed to enjoy your presence, if you dared to assume that, purely because you were quick to adapt. Lord liked his silence and you did not want to disturb your master’s peace, wouldn’t you?

Within a week you have learned the following pattern – each day started with breakfast, which you ate alongside Lord, sporadically noticing the presence of busy cook, Kyle Garrick, who didn’t happen to talk much. Then, you would proceed with your everyday duties. Which did not include sneaking around to go and talk with the gardener, but nevertheless you did.

And as the evening would finally come, you were sitting in the playroom of the manor embroidering while Mr. Riley was reading his book. Even Johnny was allowed to come sit with both of you, gnawing at the wooden pipe between his teeth. It all felt so domestic in such a short period of time.

And how could you believe such gossip about Lord’s hospitality, or rather its lacking, hearsay in the city?

Sundays were always a day of rest. You were sitting in your bedroom on the highest floor, reading one of the novels you brought from home. Too entertained with the story, you blindly reached for the cup of tea standing nearby. The noise of ceramic pot splattering across the floor caused you to tense immediately.

It shattered to pieces. Such a waste, it was a pretty one.

You closed the book with a sigh and set it aside, slowly walking towards a storage on this floor. With a small broom in your hand you returned to your room only to find it oddly… clean. The staining of spilled tea on the flooring was gone just as the bits of what was left of the floral cup.

Almost like it never even happened.

Your eyes wandered across the chamber, searching for the mess you just made. But every little trace of it was gone. You kneeled down and looked under each piece of furniture. Still, nothing was found, a broken teapot swallowed by the void.

Slowly you retracted from the room onto the long hallway, searching for the maids or signs of their presence. It must have been one of them, right?

— Hello? — You asked with hesitation in your voice, but there was no living soul to answer you back. Not nearby anyways.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈

Coos of the crows and rattle of their wings echoed through the old trees. And although the sky was grey and cloudy that day, no rain had yet fallen. Alongside Johnny, you went for an afternoon stroll down the borderline of the forest, enjoying a minute of break.

— How long have you been working for Lord Simon?

— A couple of years now — the man reached down the wild grain growing on the field and plucked a single piece. He continued to play with it between his thick digits, brows narrowed as he reflected on his further answer. — He hired and gave me a roof over my head when I retired from service.

— You were a soldier too?

Johnny nodded with a simple “aye” and you smiled.

— What?

— Nothing. Didn’t think such a gentle gardener was once enlisted.

— Yeah? Didn’t think a pretty lass like yourself would be so nosy. — He smacked the tip of your nose with the stalk he was holding.

Your cheeks grew rosy and warm, when he paid you a compliment. Not that you were a prude! Actually far from that, but it was just that Johnny was so charming and he definitely knew how to sweet talk to a woman like you.

— Not nosy, it’s considered rude — you explain to him, fidgeting with your fingers yet a smile is painted upon your face. — “Curious” I think suits me better. Those who spread gossip about others’ affairs and tragedies are the nosy ones. See, that’s the difference.

Johnny stopped suddenly and took your hand into his palms. He held you gently, almost like you were made out of glass and he, with his admirable strength, could break you into pieces. What a great waste it would be to destroy such a pure soul. He leaned closer to your ear, warm breath tickling your sensitive skin and your heart almost jumped out of the ribcage. Should his closeness excite you so much? Should a grown woman be this rash?

— Only if we were seen by someone, here on the glade, alone. Scandalous — the man mocked such behaviours, while brushing a single strand of your hair behind the ear. — What would they think, hm?

Before you took a step back, your gaze met his for a brief moment. There was a hint of curiosity and playfulness in his blue eyes. And perhaps something else, something much more obvious than you believed it was.

Something that made men weak.

— Right, what would they say, Johnny? Who? — You asked him playfully, though your expression was full of sorrow. — I barely see anyone around the house. I’m starting to believe those servants are some… ghouls living in the attic or they simply avert me so often.

— Lord likes his peace, they work as if they weren’t there. Just as it needs to be.

— It’s been some days now and I hadn’t met any of them. You’re the only person who actually talks to me. Don’t you get lonely there?

— Simon’s and your presence is enough for me. And well, it’s nice to talk to Mr. Garrick sometimes.

— He talks to you?

The cold breeze danced through your hair, causing you to shiver. Dry and brittle leaves crunched under your soles when the two of you continued to walk down the old pathway.

— Autumn here is tough, lass, you should have worn a sweater. We should head back home, the nightfall is coming.

You loathed the cold weather and how freezing the chambers got in the morning. Your first winter in England’s countryside might not be as pleasant as you thought it would be, with cold feet and no one in the manor to warm your spirit up.

No peers, no guests, no neighbours. Just you, Johnny and Lord Riley.

You stood back in the middle of your quarter, looking at everything and anything at the same time. Each detail like a porcelain vase with flowers or lace tablecloth looked so neat, with no sign of dust it was almost impossible. Many questions were stacked inside of your head.

Was your chamber cleaned every single day? If so, when did they do it? And why hadn't you even bumped into any of the servants of the manor? Yes, the building was large, but at some point you had to meet the staff, right?

It has officially been two weeks since you moved to live and work here. Although using the word “work” was far-fetched. You hoped to become a governess to Lord Riley’s children, but that dream was quickly demolished as he had none. So then it was told that you were responsible for the house work, but there was no one to supervise as they were constantly hiding from you. So you were sitting there at the end of the day in a living room, chaperoning your Lord. This time without Johnny.

Fireplace was spitting long flames, popping ashes into the air. The interior was welcoming, when the wind behind the windows grew stronger. A storm was coming.

— May I ask you a question, Sir? — You had put aside your embroidery set, before finally asking. The blonde man hummed, eyes still transfixed on the lecture he was reading. — How often do the maids come to my room?

— As often as needed. Why?

— I wanted to rearrange my quarters this morning, just to push the bed closer to the wall, but when I returned from the afternoon stroll, it was back in its primary place.

— Then they fixed the furniture, didn’t they?

You had a feeling that was not the case. You scratched the flooring during the first attempt, if the staff was to push the bed back to its origins, they would only do further damage. Yet, the wooden planks were brand as new. No signs of any scratches.

Were you hysterical? Was it all your vivid imagination?

— But it’s heavy, my Lord.

— And yet you managed to move it. So did they.

Lord Riley was grumpy again, his voice hoarse and accent thick.

You once again took the needle threaded with string into your fingers and returned to the unfinished piece, but the urge to continue pushing him was stronger. You might rather bite your tongue in the future.

— Maybe I should talk with them and explain that I prefer it the other way.

— I prefer when the rules of my household are followed. You wouldn’t have such an idea if you didn’t have so much free time.

Your hands dropped to your lap as you abruptly looked at him, slightly offended. And even though Lord tried to conceive this, you noticed how the edges of his lips twitched in a tiny smile. He was toying with you.

Simon was strict. Perhaps he never abandoned the military's rules and drills. He was an adamant man who valued his own comfort. That means, obeying his rules.

— Come, I might have an idea how to keep you busy.

The Lord of the house rose from his seat. Each time you stood next to him, you were intimidated by his height and solid build. Despite being off duty, he kept his admirable physics of a Greek god.

At least that is how the books you kept so dear to your heart described the brave warriors.

You followed the master into his private library and patiently stood right behind him, when he was searching for a certain book. Finally he reached a thick tome in your direction – “A Mortal Immortal” by Mary Shelley.

— Here, this may interest you — but when you stretched out to receive it, he moved the novel out of your reach. — Ah, ah. What do we say?

— Thank you. For borrowing me your book.

— However, when I think about it, I’m worried this will only worsen your… troubled mind.

— My mind?

— Johnny told me you worry too much about some nonsense that should not be your priority in the first place. You’re letting this place and its solitude haunt you. Are you of a weak mind, girl? — You quickly understood what he was referring to, so to prove the point you denied the vile accusation. — So, I’d recommend you stop being childish and focus on your chores. Then everything will be alright, understood?

— I’m not childish.

— Is that clear? — He repeated with much harsher tone.

You nodded slightly, barely visible, but enough to agree with the Lord.

— Now, go to your chamber, it’s getting late.

His dark eyes carefully inspected your figure. You noticed him staring at your neckline for far too long than what was decent. His coarse hand swiped over yours when he was giving you the book. The cold metal of his signet felt like a thousand sharp stings.

What kind of game was the Lord of Riley Manor playing with you?

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈

The simmering sound of something powerful cracking snatched you from the peaceful dream. Every muscle in your body tensed and you sat up, holding the duvets tight when a thunder enlightened the black sky. Your heart beated fast within its cage of bones and breath shattered, anticipating.

Surely, thunderstorms can happen in late autumn, but you had never predicted it to happen this night. You felt uneasy, when another loud rumble made you scared. Then there was the banging window frame, somewhere in the long hallway and those horrible, horrible whistles of wind. They sound almost like human cries.

At first you ducked down beneath the covers to shield yourself from the haunting sounds, thinking that the servants would take care of the open window. But minutes passed and they didn’t.

With a lit candle on a metal holder you walked down the corridor, the flame being the only source of light.

So when the wind coming through the window blew it off, you gasped loudly in panic – you barely saw your own hands in front of you!

— No, no, no…

You almost screamed when someone placed their hand upon your shoulder and then your mouth. A familiar figure was illuminated by another lighting. You could never mistake those blue eyes for another.

— Shh, bonnie. It’s me — Johnny whispered, slowly uncovering your mouth. — I heard the fuss. You alright?

— Actually, no… Did you hear those sounds?

Your hands squeezed the candle holder, when the gardener rushed to close the open window. You shivered, only a thin layer of nightgown covering your skin. You looked behind, checking if you were alone in the hallway. It certainly felt like you weren’t. It had to be the ghouls.

— What sounds?

— Howling, distressed cries? Wails? I-I heard them in my chamber.

— You’re scared of the storms?

— No, that’s not-

— It’s okay to get spooked sometimes — he cut you off and grabbed your hand, slowly leading you back where you came from. — Come, let’s get you to your room.

— Oh, don’t belittle me. — You frowned upon him, yet you doubt he had seen it. You clung to his strong arm like a scared girl, not eager to get lost in the darkness again.

— That was not my intention. Was just trying to comfort you.

When you finally reached your room, you couldn’t find the strength to let go of his hand. You interlocked your smooth and delicate fingers with his digits.

— Please, Johnny, don’t go. I’m… scared.

— Of thunder? — He chuckled, petting the palm of your hand.

— No, this place. Something is not right, please, I–

— It’s okay, you got scared a little, that’s all. You really want me to stay?

You shuddered when taking a deep breath, calculating every possible consequence of this decision.

This was not right.

— Yes.

When he stepped inside of the room, a rush of excitement flooded your veins and sank on the bottom of your stomach. Perhaps it was foolish and considered promiscuous inviting a man into your bedroom, but your body and heart desired otherwise.

Johnny’s presence brought you comfort that you were longing for, his touch ascended your worries to the void and filled the troubled mind with pleasure. Nothing else.

Without a word spoken the two of you moved to the narrow, still warm bed and climbed under the sheets. Johnny captured your head between his hands and pulled in a gentle kiss on the lips. In his performance he was eager, sloppy yet charming. One of his palms gripped your hip through the crumpled material, just as you hooked one of your thighs over his hip.

Foolish, foolish girl.

— You’re so pretty — he whispered through the thick air as he pressed his forehead to yours. The curve of his nose filled your bridge as you looked at him from under your lashes. — The moment I first saw you getting out of the coach, that day you arrived, I knew I couldn’t ever let you go, bonnie.

Johnny swiftly moved on top of your lying form, holding that one thigh open. He continued the passionate assault on your lips, carefully rolling the hem of your nightgown up.

Your body was on fire, everything inside of you screamed this was wrong, but somehow, the sinner inside of you called for him. For his touch, for his affection and his sweet, sweet nectar.

Only when he started caressing your mound and its slit did you acknowledge where his hand wandered. And although his skin was rather tough from all the years of hard work, his touch was gentle and surprisingly precise. You gasped lovely. It didn’t take that much of a hassle for him to make you wet and eager down there.

— Oh, Johnny…

His name rolled off your tongue like honey, a music to his ears. It wasn’t long enough before he was grinding over your thigh with his excited and leaking length.

— You are what we needed. A little warm sunshine, eh?

Did you hear “we”?

But before you could ask him, he began stretching your cunt a little bit too carelessly to your liking. All his prudence was gone, as he got drunk on your scent and how you felt around him. Your hand gripped his bicep and your glossy eyes went wide like a scared doe.

— Johnny, Johnny, slow — you breathed out through muffled whine and the man atop of you stilled. — Slow, please.

He could feel how your heart pumped within your veins.

— I’m sorry, bonnie. Let me kiss it better — the gardener leaned down to pepper your face with kisses. And when he got to the sweet spot on your neck, you giggled — shh, we don’t want to wake him, don’t we?

Obviously he meant Lord Simon.

He set a steady yet bearable rhythm as his hips rolled into you in waves. His chest was close to yours, brushing sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of a nightgown. You were pushed into the cushioned pillow, hair splayed beneath like roots of the ancient tree.

You felt so lightheaded yet so good at the same time. Sparkling, increasing sensation tickling the nerves and blinding the vision. Johnny was all you could experience in that moment. He was the only thing you could smell, touch and taste, when he was trying to steal the air from your lungs. You fell into the abyss of pleasure quickly, all the latest worries fading away.

And the horribly loud storm? Didn’t matter at that moment. All thunders quietened down and the entire world could be burning in flames and ashes, but you wouldn’t even notice.

The man moaned deeply from his throat, when he got closer to his peak, hips frantically snapping against yours. You barely managed to entangle your shaking fingers within his brown hair, right above the nape of the lover’s neck. With one more final thrust both of you indulged sweet, sweet pleasure.

Johnny stayed until the morning came, just as he promised. With an expression of pure ecstasy and lust, you snuggled into his chest. He wrapped a pair of arms around you and for the first time since the arrival you felt at peace sleeping in the manor. The candle remained snuffed out.

In the morning of the following day, you went to the city with Mrs. Garrick to receive the remaining letters and a few other errands. You and the cook split to settle matters quickly.

The post office was a small place with barely anyone inside but a friendly looking old lady behind the counter.

— Good morning, I’d like to receive the mail for Lord Riley.

You put on a polite smile, walking closer to the counter and removing the bonnet from your head.

— So you are the new housekeeper, I’ve heard about you. It’s been a while since someone got his letters, guess he still ain’t leaving the house?

— No, ma’am. Lord is rather… — you paused, searching for the right description of your employer — a private person.

— Always had been, even before he went to war. But oh, that was years ago, I hope he softened at least a little. Such a sad and grumpy boy he was.

There was something in the way she phrased it that made your body still. Blood got so heated up anyone that touched you could feel it on the outside. Did she mean the previous Lord, father of Simon Riley? But that couldn’t be the case, this title was newly found when he returned from the war. So what was this all about?

— Forgive me, you said “years ago”? How long ago was it? You see, I’m not from here and the Lord doesn’t share much about himself.

— Of course he does not and do not expect otherwise — she waved with her wrinkled finger, before reaching for the bile of letters from the shelf behind her. — It was around twenty five years ago, Lord Riley was the same age as my son when he joined the Queen’s army.

— I see.

You were confused, extremely confused. The blonde Lord with scarred face did not look a year past his thirties, how could this be that he enlisted quarter of century ago? At that moment you felt so horrified by this anomaly.

Through the rest of the day and the day that followed, the old maiden aunt’s words echoed inside of your head:

— I am surprised anyone actually was willing to take that job. Lord Riley is a… forgive me for speaking so freely, but he’s a strange man who abandoned the word of God years ago. Why do you think he got pushed away from the post earlier?

He was…?

You didn’t look the same into the depths of the windows of the Manor, nor did you stare at the dark corner of the hall. Every sound of wood creaking sent shivers down your spine. They were coming.

Oh God, have you gone mad?

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈

You stirred the porridge over and over again, watching as the gooey mush slipped from the spoon down to its den. Despite the tremendous amount of honey you added it still tasted rather bitter this morning.

— Did you finish?

— Excuse me?

You tightened the hold over the silver spoon when Lord’s hoarse voice brought you back to the eerie reality.

— The book. I asked if you finished the book? — Blonde man raised his thick brow in question, curiously looking at you from his own plate.

— Oh, yes, yes. I enjoyed it, however I found Winzy’s life quite miserable to be honest. And tragic.

— Why so?

— Well, he lost the woman he loved so dearly and then had to continue living eternally without her. Imagine how lonely his life had to be, when he must have outlived every single friend he had made.

— If he was so miserable as you say, then why wouldn’t he just end his suffering and join the woman he claimed to love? Maybe he didn’t really care after all. — Simon leaned back in his chair, exhaling loudly. — I sometimes wonder what his life would look like if he had given the potion to Bertha. A pair of immortals walking this earth, would they become some sort of Gods?

— Doesn’t the thought of living so long… make you feel… I don’t know, unease , my Lord?

— No. I’ve seen worse things than an old man. Those who fear death might go to extremes just to avoid their end.

— We were not made to live forever, don’t we? We should not play God.

— There is no God, sweet girl. Only sinners and fools. Those who play and those who lose. Are you a loser?

— No, Sir.

His dark eyes glowed in a mysterious manner as the silence fell between you two. The man was bright and had seen right through you.

— Good. If we speak of the matter of sinners, I’d like to make one thing clear.

The Lord stood up from his seat, putting the white napkin on the table. His figure loomed closer toward his housekeeper and finally leaned on one of his hands over you. You could feel his breath on your neck, his closeness made you shiver.

— You’ve been living under my roof and by now you should know I despite disobedience and liars.

— I am no liar, Sir.

— Perhaps not, but you hide things from me. Captain Price spoke of you in high regard - a well behaved woman from a respected family, yet you’ve proven yourself to be rather promiscuous. You even ensnared poor Johnny, didn’t you?

That… was straight forward.

— I did no such thing!

Suddenly he wrapped one of his strong hands over the nape of your neck, causing you to tense and lean away from his touch. The man began drawing circles over your skin with his thumb, almost like he tried to soothe your shattered nerves. You gasped at the sudden force he had put you in place.

— Watch yourself and think twice about answering again.

— It was mutual.

— Mutual? — He repeated mockingly. — Johnny boy would fuck anything that moves in ten miles radius. And it just happened to be you.

— How dare you speak like this? — You turned your head to look him in the face. When you did, you saw the insolent smirk painted over his pale face. — He is at least decent towards me, he’s kind and caring. We did nothing wrong. Why do you care?

Simon leaned down right next to your face. He continued to stare you down, his brows narrowed in deep disappointment.

— You’ve built a wall between us, sweet girl. Yeah, you did. If there was something you ever needed, you should have come directly to me, your Lord. And I can assure you, Johnny did not give what you craved and desired.

Inconveniently your face changed its colour to vivid blush, when he suggested such things. Your stomach felt like one, big knot twisting its way to get stuck in your oesophagus. Was that it? Was this how he perceived you? Was he jealous of the fling between you and Johnny or was he simply cruel?

Lord Riley let go of your pretty neck and caressed your cheek with the knuckles of his fingers. Just like one would touch a lover and another – a pet.

— You’re frightened. Are you scared of me, is that it? Be obedient and you won’t have to be. Or do you really want to be punished so badly?

You quickly denied by shaking your head to the sides to which he only hummed. His weight shifted behind your back and a trail of footsteps could be heard as the Lord of the house left the dining room.

A moment passed before you caught yourself staring at the bowl of now cold porridge, slowly digesting the conversation you just held with him, your Master.

The burden upon your poor, poor mind has overwhelmed you and the realisation of a potential madness weighed heavily upon you. Nothing made sense. Not a single logical explanation has come to light to soothe your fears.

After those couple of weeks the staff and maids stayed in the shadows, Lord’s age did not match the tales of his youth and those horrible sounds you continued to hear at night? Ugh, they kept you awake, causing dark bags to show under your pretty eyes.

The manor itself seemed to have poisoned you. Was that it? The reason? You knew you had to leave the house as soon as possible. You had to…

Oh God, what have you gotten yourself into?

That night was no different to those before it. Wind blowing through the crack in the window’s frame, wheezing and whistling. Your bedsheets are exceptionally cold this time, causing you to shiver and tremble. The candle is still burning, a metal holder standing on the table.

When you finally manage to curl up under the sheets and doze away slightly, you hear this agonising, scary wails.

Wait. No.

Those are no wails.

I-Is someone moaning?

You raised up to a sitting position in a half asleep state. Loose strands of hair stick to the forehead as you continue to listen for more sounds.

Those seem to be almost human-like. Maybe they are?

You throw the sheets to the side and crawl out of the bed. You’re frustrated and moody, close to tears from the exhaustion of not being able to sleep. Before you left your chamber, you grabbed that damn candle light and took a deep breath.

Your bare feet left no traces behind as you walked down the dark hallway. The heart in your chest was about to burst, obviously you were still scared of the dark and what possibly lurks within it. The hem of your nightgown sweeped the wooden flooring that cracked underneath your weight.

Then, you heard those moans again, louder. You were getting closer. Following the awful sounds you finally get to its source. You knew where your feet happened to take you to and that you shouldn’t have dared to enter this chamber. Nonetheless, you did. The shroud of mystery had to be torn.

You slowly creeped towards the half-opened, heavy doors and sneaked inside where the darkness swallowed almost everything. Single candles had been lit across the room, creating an ascended ambience. You should have turned around and left, you understood that perfectly well. However, you wanted answers to all the secrets of the manor and its habitants.

Behind the wooden screen there was a large bed and two figures sitting on its edge. Gardener who was completely bare and whining into Lord’s shoulder, drool leaving the corner of his mouth. Thighs spread open and eyes closed tight. And there he was – Lord Simon dressed in trousers and loose, white chemise. His big hand was tightly wrapped around Johnny’s angry cock, pulling and twisting the sensitive skin. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as Johnny whined pitifully again at the sensation.

At least now you finally knew what those sounds were exactly – that stormy night Johnny came to you, were they also together? You couldn’t move and kept standing close to the screen, eyes transfixed at the scene you witnessed. So many emotions washed over you – were you embarrassed, scared or even jealous? The dots and the facts slowly began connecting. You had to make haste and leave this room. This house. You knew you had to get away tonight, before things would escalate. Oh God, you couldn’t properly breathe, your face and lungs felt like they were on fire!

— Looks like we have company — the coarse voice of a blonde man made your skin cover in goosebumps. He stared directly at you. — Want to join us?

Unknowingly you made a muffled whine of embarrassment as you swiftly turned around and started to walk away in a hurry. As if you were in some kind of trance, your body going automatically. You rolled up the long hem of your nightgown not to stumble upon it as you found yourself on the corridor again.

Christ! You forgot to take the candle with you!

The breathing became difficult as you had to navigate somehow in the complete darkness. A part of your heart felt betrayed by the erotic scenery you just witnessed, although you couldn’t completely understand why. You and Johnny were a one time thing, why would you feel sorry for him bedding someone else?

Probably because this “someone else” was your mutual employer.

There were heavy footsteps behind you, they were getting closer and closer. He was right behind the nosy intruder. You tried to fasten your pace, blindly going forward, hoping to find a staircase. Then it would lead you downstairs and outside of the building. But before you even made it halfway to the stairs, you bumped into a slim table standing by the wall. The vase standing on it fell and broke as the painful impact of the table's corner digging into your abdomen sent you to the ground.

When it was clear you were within his grasp, you tried to crawl further away from him, trying to escape somehow. But Simon was faster and he collected you from the floor.

— Come, before you’re gonna hurt yourself. — Lord Riley said as he managed to lift up and throw you over his broad shoulder with little effort.

You tried to break free by kicking like a goat and punching him with your curled fist. But how could the strength of a city girl ever compare to the former soldier’s? You groaned, you kicked and you cursed. Nothing could have prepared you for the harsh slap that Simon planted on your bottom. It stung, causing you to go still over his shoulder. And when he spanked you again you bit your lower lip, trying to confide any pathetic whines.

— Should have whipped you long ago. Maybe it would teach you some respect.

— I didn't mean to interrupt, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, my Lord!

— Oh, you happened to join us just in time.

Lord Riley took you back to his bedroom and tossed you down onto his remarkably large bed. This time, he locked the doors from the inside and removed the key from the lock. You were stuck there with them. You managed to back up a little, before Johnny reached you. He sat at your side and carefully extended his hand towards your petrified face, a curtain of hair covering your pretty features.

— It’s alright, bonnie. Calm down.

— I don’t want to be a part of this. — You stated, kneeling on the bed sheets splayed beneath. Simon stood tall with his hands crossed in front of you and the gardener. Johnny gently began to caress your back in a soothing manner.

You were caught red handed, busted the only chance to run away and now you were more than positive he would never let you go. You tried to conceal the fears and shame, because now was the time to uncover the truth.

— What is this? — You asked with a shaking voice, eyes transfixed on the two figures of men, going from the blonde to the brunette. — What’s going on? Please, let’s forget about this. I’ll go back to bed. I–I…

— You already are in one — Lord took a step forward and caught your jaw. He yanked your head up, forcing you to look at him. — Have you finally figured it out? I directly gave you clues. Come on, you’re a smart one. Put the pieces together.

How could you come up with a logical conclusion? Everything you gathered through the weeks could be interpreted as a mad woman’s nonsense. But you weren’t ill, you were aware of the games going around you.

— You’re much older than you look, that’s what I know. And that you’ve done horrifying, unforgivable things during your service. Lord– Simon — you corrected yourself — what have you done?

— Think. Harder.

His patience was running thin. Simon spoke through his bared teeth.

— Oh, God. Are you a part of this? — You looked at Johnny, before the blonde man caught your throat and lifted you on your feet again.

— Don’t be harsh on her! She doesn’t know better. She needs to learn. — The Scotsman said to your defence, narrowing his thick brows and scrambling the bridge of his nose. All this time he was sitting comfortably on the bed, absolutely not bothered with his nakedness.

— There is no God here, sweet girl, I already told you. Only me, Johnny and well, you. I’ve been kind enough to share a piece of me with you and that’s how you repay your Lord? In such childish, pathetic disobedience? Fucking nosy, aren’t we? Or just eager?

The tall, bulky man reached with his other hand and forcefully cupped your crotch through the thin material of the nightgown, causing you to wriggle in his hold. He prodded against your slit with his finger, toying with you, testing the limits and your responses. And you were very responsive.

In that moment you thought about the choice of literature Simon had given you. The main plotline revolved around immortality and its consequences, which would somehow explain… some things. Yet what about God? Why did Simon detest him so much?

— God turns his back on people like me and once you sin for us, he will turn on you too — he mockingly snorted, before continuing your torment. — If he didn’t already.

You tried to tear from his hold, shaking yourself and pushing his chest away. Lord Riley stood like a mountain, not moving an inch. In a quick movement he twirled you around and took a firm hold of the nightgown material at your back. Then you heard how loudly the stitches broke and the teared material slowly fell to the ground, exposing your much alive and young flesh.

Before you realised you were completely bare and managed to cover yourself somehow, Simon grabbed your arms behind your back so you couldn’t move further.

— I think he sent you to us as a gift — the man leaned against your shoulder, whispering into your ear. — Yeah, that’s what you are – a sweet, innocent present. Isn’t she cute, Johnny?

Brunette finally stood up from the bed and gently caressed your hip. He was standing so close, you could feel his pulsating cock and its leaking tip on your supple thigh.

— Aye, she is lovely.

— Have you tasted her, boy? That night you sneaked under her covers? — To which the dark haired one denied. — Well, I think you should compensate the little lady, no? Help her calm down, you know how women can get… hysterical.

— W-Wait, wait, no, n-no…

Simon sat down on the edge of the bed and placed you between his massive legs. One of his hands wrapped around your fragile, swan like neck and the other cupped your left breast. Meanwhile, Johnny got down onto his knees and moved closer to the two of you and before he dived between your thighs he looked into the dark irises of his Lord. Not yours.

— He eats like I starve him beforehand. You’re gonna find out, lovely.

You tried to squeeze your legs shut, but the gardener kept them spread wide so he could lean closer to your cunt. And when you tried anything like moving or wriggling away, Simon would pull or twist one of your nipples causing you to yelp.

— She’s really pretty — the Scot said, parting your lower lips apart. The shame washed over you, causing your head to turn into Simon’s shoulder. — Never could have pulled such one while in the army.

Then he flatten his tongue over your most sensitive parts and started dragging it along the slit. You entangled one of your hands within his brown strands of hair, on top of his head pulling slightly. When his lips sucked at your clit you finally moaned, releasing some tension and anger within you.

— Bird’s already singing.

Simon purred into your ear, nuzzling his eyebrow ridge into your head. The feelings and sensations you were experiencing overflowed your system. The man you trusted as your lover was assaulting your cunt with his mouth and the Lord you were supposed to work for was enjoying the show. You pressed your eyes shut, trying not to cry. But you finally broke and the salty streams began to run down your rosy cheeks.

— You think she deserves to cum, Johnny? — To which the kneeling men nodded vigorously. — Use your words, stupid mutt.

— Please, Si, let her. Look how stressed she is. Poor thing, she might need a few more.

— A few- Ah! M-More?! — You squealed again, when someone rolled your nipples between their fingers.

When your peak neared, you tried to turn your head away and hide. You didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing your face in pure bliss. Simon held your head against his sternum, pressing your forehead backwards.

You felt like you were on fire, orange flames licking your fingers, your breasts, your inner thighs.

— That’s it, good girl.

And when the knot finally bursted, a wave of painful, white pleasure washed over you. The orgasm was so strong, it blinded your senses for a short moment in which the men flipped you around the bed.

Johnny was supporting your shoulders and your head, while Lord was stirring in front of you. He threw your legs over his thighs and scooped closer to your still wet with saliva crotch. And not only with that…

The new wave of panic overwhelmed you when Simon began to undo his trousers. He was taller and bigger than the gardener in every aspect, you were scared. Taking two lovers, without marital vows? Does this make you a whore? But you didn’t want this!

— No, no, no… — You weeped sadly, trying to crawl away, before Johnny began to caress your head. His grip was tight and successfully held you in place.

— After tonight, we’ll be joined as one, bonnie. Just us, here in this house, forever.

— But I-I don’t want this, Johnny! Please, let me go. Let me go.

You repeated as Simon pulled you by the hips closer to him. His now exposed, thick cock stiffened over your soft abdomen, leaking some precum.

— Shh, Simon knows what’s best for us. He knows.

When the tip of his length caved his way inside of your warm, silky walls, he was at least decent enough to take it slow. If you felt full during that first night spent with Johnny, this time it seemed even fuller. With his flesh, Simon filled you to the brim, still not even moving. The man saw your struggle to relax, so he leaned down and sucked the thin and delicate skin below your jaw.

Meanwhile Johnny brushed your hair backwards and with the other hand he caressed your ribs. Somehow they knew how to press each individual button to make you docile enough.

They learned how to tame you.

Only then, Simon began to move his hips, thrusting slowly and continuously fastening the pace. His movements made you sway along Johnny’s knees. Your breasts bounced within the rhythm and your eyes searched for them through the half absent haze.

You got lost in the moment, every breath merged with another. Hands roaming over your body, whose owners you couldn’t really assign, the burning stretch in your cunt that began to lube itself to ease the friction.

The pleasure that crushed over your sensible thinking, put you in an almost ascended state. You were still sobbing, when Simon fastened his pace and his cock penetrated you deeper, kissing your cervix. You were still trembling, when the two men started making out above you. Their lips crushed in a vulgar exposition of their affection.

— Can’t you see that you’re lost without us, lovely? — The Lord’s voice shaken as he was getting closer to his climax. He leaned down and kissed you, almost stealing your breath away.

— Wouldn’t last without us, would you, lass?

They continuously somewhat mocked you and each time after they did, they cooed at you or leaned down to “kiss it better”. By the time Simon finished inside of you, groaning loudly, he spilled the warm seed inside your walls to, as Lord claim, “make you theirs”.

— Don’t worry, we got you now. We’re gonna take care of you. Just let us… get familiar first. — Johnny said calmly, when the blonde was massaging your tense things. You knew they weren’t yet sated.

That night you happened to lay over one of Simon’s bulky arms like a pillow. He caged your body from behind, his chest pressing tightly against your spine and Johnny laid on his side in front of you. Through a half awakened state you managed to look through the window that faced the treeline. An edge of forest shrouded in thick, morning mist.

Tonight you finally were able to put the pieces together. However it was too late anyways.

The house seemed to be stuck in time and space, so were its residents. The wind sweeping through the draughty windows fills the lungs of the great manor. Old, wooden flooring creaks and the glass strain within its frames. Every aspect of the building stays the same, untouched and reclusive for many years to come.

You finally let the heavy eyelids close. The sun was rising.

Obviously very inspired by Ghost's music and Crimson Peak, here is Spotify playlist ⟶ 𝕏

#victorian au #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #ghoap x reader #ghoap #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod mw3 #cod mwiii

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amalainse · 2 months

Text

"born under a bad sign"

— sukuna ryomen

tags ට yan sukuna, zombie apocalypse au, sukuna typical violence, slight gore (also typical), dubious consent, fingering, petting, dirty talk (are we even surprised), caretaker kink, minor infantilization, wildest backshots known to man, virgin reader

a/n ට baby's first ever fic <3 i've seen a lot of yan sukuna on my dash (1 & 2) and these ficlets/drabbles acted as my main source of inspiration. this wasn't at all how i imagined this to go, but i don't mind doing a second part at all. sukuna's probably occ but to me he's so sickingly sweet to you, and so violent to everyone else.

───⠀౨ৎ you puzzle around the reasons why sukuna would help you, of all people. why he didn't leave you to die. why he goes through the trouble. and then. and then he shows you. (3.6k wc)

the circumstances in which he stumbles upon you are purely accidental. sukuna swings down the hammer, relishes in the sick squelch of bone and sinew giving away and the feel of blood spattering back onto his face in wide arcs and the sight of you going very, very, still underneath him.

you had been so loud, before. screaming and whining and pleading for mercy. you're silent now. he wonders if you even dare to breathe. and that is how he finds it in himself to stop. to pull away. sukuna hasn't seen you yet, and he's curious to know what he's found.

slowly, with trembling, dainty little fingers, one of your hands reaches up to touch the dead mans shoulder. the tiniest of whimpers escapes you, hand spasming but managing enough of your strength to lift up and push the body away.

sukuna lets the hammer clatter noisily to the floor, smirk widening across his face at how you jump, shoulders raised and body tense with obvious fear. he crouches down, blood covered hand wrapping around your ankle and pulling you in to him with one sudden move. you allow yourself to look at his hands, his clothes spattered in blood, and nothing else.

you tremble, head hanging low. sukuna's tongue traces his sharp teeth, content no longer with silence.

"won't you look at me, sweetheart?" he croons, hand smearing blood from your cheek. you tremble and shake some more, ready to burst out of your skin at the juxtaposition of his touch.

but you lift your head. you obey. you must be fighting against every wired instinct right now. the ones that tell you to run. to hide. he doesn't bother hiding the shuddering low moan when he sees you.

"oh, look at you, gorgeous, prettiest little thing i've ever seen" he says, pulling in closer. the blood coating your face does little to hide your shining wide bambi eyes, your full lips, the gentle swoop of your nose. he reaches out behind him, patting around for something to clean your face. "good girl, stay still. just like that"

sukuna's big hand is like a brand against your skin. he cups your chin, turns your head to the side. you make a loud strangled whimper, no doubt having seen what was left of your attacker. sukuna tuts, pulls you back to him, pets at your shoulders and the back of your head until you calm down.

when he turns your head again, you keep your eyes shut.

"wh-what's your. your name?" you say, shakily, eyes darting across his face, pretty brown hands curling and uncurling with anxiety. its clear that you're just looking for something to distract you. it's endearing. you're endearing. sukuna wants to carve out a hole inside his chest and shove you in it.

"sukuna." he says simply, eyes catching on a reflecting light. his thumb trails from the side of your neck now, down to your chest. and the small golden pin pressed into your bloodstained shirt. whistles in surprise. "waseda?"

you nod slowly, reaching for your pin again. sukuna lets you get close enough to grab it and then at the last second, holds it above your head.

his presses the pin back into your palm, and pets at your hair. "bet you would've fetched a pretty penny before all of this huh? sweet little girl like you. what'd you study in waseda, pretty girl?"

"law" you mumble, mouth struggling to form around the word. he barks out a loud laugh at that, petting at your face like one would a nervous kitten. your hands curl into your lap. "do—are you in...are you in school sukuna?"

another loud laugh. he manages to sound mocking and sweet all at once and his voice stuffs your head with cotton. "no, sweet girl. not in school"

"oh." you swallow around nothing again, voice quiet. you don't want to know what he did, before. you aren't sure you'll be able to stomach the answer. silence stretches between the two of you once more, and you know he's waiting for something. "do you have any water?"

sukuna smirks, teeth glinting in the low light. doesn't say anything at all. your mind puzzles over your words, searching for an error. you frown, peering over at him question dancing on your tongue.

he says nothing still. and his hand encloses around yours, pulls it into his lap. he traces over your fingers and up to your wrist, up some more—to your forearm. his other hand reaches for the hammer, still bloody, still wet, as he stands to his feet and pulls you up with him.

you have no choice, but to follow him. you're weak, physically, emotionally, mentally—you never would have been able to survive on your own.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

you wrack your brain, searching for a reason.

before, your family had money. sukuna would have been compensated heavily for his time, for his odd stroke of generosity—no matter the violent steps taken in between. but your family is in america, and you are here, in japan. tears bead at your waterline and you're quick to brush them away but they won't stop falling. they fall faster than your hands can move and you curl into yourself.

sukuna raps his knuckles against the door loudly. waits a moment and then pushes both of you inside. its a bit nicer than what you would assume a man like sukuna—the type of bash a mans head in with you still underneath him—would enjoy. but then it breaches your mind in a moment of painstakingly clarity. you don't know him at all.

"are you going to kill me?" you ask through your tears, shuddering and shaking. maybe sukuna's the sick sort of man you've studied in your textbooks. the kind that like's to draw the violence out, so that it'll hurt more. there's a word for that kind of man.

it's been. it's been days, you think. a week, at most. together, you've encountered a dozen zombies. each time is the same. he pushes you behind him, kills them all quickly and the first time, you threw up. sukuna petted at your hair, crooning softly at you—tells you he'll take care of you. he'll make them go away.

"do you want me to kill you?" sukuna asks instead, smirking. he gestures for you to follow, beckoning you forwards with two fingers.

you shake your head, and then when you realize he can't exactly see, garble out a shaky, "no, b—but why would you help me if i can't. i can't give you anything"

a bathroom is where he's led you to. sukuna drags a small stool over using his foot, plants himself down on it. your mouth parts in surprise when the water turns on, sloshing loudly against the tub.

sukuna hums, tugs you forward—dragging you into his lap. he doesn't answer you, not yet, hands reaching up to tug your shoes off, then your socks. massages his bloodstained hands into your calves, skirting up to your knobby knees and higher still to unbutton your long skirt.

you make a small sound of objection, pushing your legs closed as your breath quickens. "sukuna? what are you, stop please?"

the hand that had been bracing you in his lap reaches down to push your legs apart, easily too easily, and when you try to squirm the hand unbuttoning your skirt hooks around your waist. pulls you back in. one swat against your thigh, underneath the fabric pooling around your waist has you stilling against him.

"just gettin' you clean, pretty girl" he says, petting your sides and your stomach. "gotta take a bath"

"s-sukuna" you hate the way your voice tapers off into a whimper, pushing at his arm again. "i can. i can bathe myself"

there's a snorting sound in your ear, rumbling deep from his chest. one of his hands reaches into your skirt, cups your ass, massages you through your plain cotton panties. and his other hand dances up to your hip, reaches up to hook thick fingers around the bands of your skirt and panties—tugging them down to your knees and then dropping them on the floor.

he makes another amused sound when your hands jump to cover your exposed mound. "you can't do anything by yourself. not if i don't help you"

your mouth pulls into a frown, anger swirling inside you. he says it like he knows you. like its the absolute truth. "that's not true. i can"

sukuna ignores you. like you're a child. reaches up under your shirt to unhook your bra, massaging your small breasts. then again at your spine. pulls your blazer off, then takes special care in buttoning each and every button on your shirt. reaches a hand over to turn the water off, to sprinkle in salts. he's methodical, sure in his movements.

the room fills with the smell of flowers, of almonds and honey. your naked, shivering in his lap from the cold and from the fear strumming along your nerves.

he could break you, but he handles you so gently. you find that your body is as taught as a wire. you wonder how long it'll take for that gentleness to go away. for him to hurt you. to kill you, even though he hasn't said he will.

"isn't that better?" he asks, kneeling beside the tub, washcloth running over your skin. the dirt and sweat and grime washes away from your skin, water turning a murky brown. "i know what you need, sweetheart. i'll take care of you. soft little thing like you, bet you spend your entire life being taken care of."

and then—and then he pulls away. you go to wrap your arms around your middle, thankful that it's over. that that's all he wanted. that your still alive.

your stomach lurches for an entire different reason when you hear the tell-tale sound of a zipper, loud in the quiet room. you hang your head, breathe loudly through your nose and wait. a handful of minutes pass by and then sukuna's hands grab at your waist, lifting you up enough for him to join you.

you turn around, facing his chest. a part of you is surprised that he let you. its becoming apparent to you now that you're going to be doing a lot less of what you want, now. the other part, bigger, pressing, is upset. angry. shameful. why are you giving up so easily? why aren't you fighting back?

the answer hurts more than you'd like to admit. you've never fought back. always gave up so easily. you do what your parents want, act how they think you should. make friends with the people your advisors approve of. sukuna had been so shamefully close to the truth—without anyone calling the shots for you, you're afraid of how little you know yourself.

"i can help" you say softly, grabbing the small washcloth from his hands. really, in all honestly, you just want this to be over faster. don't want him to draw it out anymore. "i can do some things"

sukuna hums, hand reaching out to play with your hair.

he's got a lot of tattoos. and he's big, with huge muscles, hard planes that seem to stretch on for miles. there's nicks, tiny scrapes and cuts and littering of scars everywhere.

"you can do some things," agrees sukuna, once you've finished and the water drains from the tub. he's naked still, and now there water isn't there to hide anything. but he's so large, everywhere, the scent of him filling up your head. "would you like to do something for me, sweet girl?"

you have an inkling of what he wants, and your twist your hands in your lap. you have no choice, even if he phrases it like you do. he could toss you back out there, with the dead roaming the streets, bloodshot and thirsty and eager. so you nod, and climb into his lap, tucking your face into his neck—legs spreading out on either side of his hips when he pushes a hand onto your lower back.

"if you'll be good, i can be good." sukuna says, tracing the knobs on your spine.

you swallow, afraid to ask, but knowing that you must. "you wwon't—you won't let. others?"

"smart girl. good girl, it'll be just me. no other man could take care of you like i could." sukuna's fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, spreads your legs apart to look down at your cunt. you've got ugly hips, like a boy. and you don't shave, and you hope the sparse layer of hair isn't enough to turn him off. you want him to like what he sees. so he. so he can take care of you. your stomach clenches painfully when he presses the flat of his palm on your hipbone.

"you got a boyfriend, pretty girl?"

you shake your head, still tucked into his neck as he continues his caressing and petting. his fingers inch closer to your cunt, rubbing at the outer lips.

sukuna smirks. you can feel it rather than see it. "of course you don't, good girl like you. probably focused on your studies. my little lawyer girl. fuck, sweetheart, you've got such a pretty little cunt. you touch yourself? use your words"

"y-yes—sometimes" you reply, hips jerking as his fingers pet around your clit. you can hear yourself breathing heavier now, and its so shameful, you're dirty—nasty. your parents would be so ashamed of you.

he presses a kiss to the top of your head. it's so so gentle, you think you could cry. "with your fingers, sweet girl?"

you nod against his skin again, but remember that he wants you to talk. to use words. you swallow around a soft sound, trying to close your legs. "yes. but—b-but not my fingers...i tried, and it didn't—it didn't feel, it was okay but..."

god. you hate the way your voice cracks and breaks. how you fumble and trip over words. he must think you stupid now, inept, and your scared you're turning him off, that he might go soft. you clamp your mouth shut, screwing your eyes closed with a tapering whimper as he continues to pet around your pussy.

you're getting wetter, slicking up nicely. sukuna drags your slick to your hole, pets around it. returns back to your clit and rubs faster—at an intensity you would've shied away from if it was just you. a sound escapes you, and you're desperate to choke it down, hips bucking up into his touch.

sukuna swats at your ass, not hard enough to hurt. but a warning. the next sound you make, you don't bother trying to cover it up. his fingers flick at your clit in reward, and then his middle finger begins to press inside.

"there we go, good girl, relax for me, fuck, you're so tight" he sounds like he's putting his cock in your...in your cunt. and not, not his fingers. you whimper, nails pricking into his skin when his thumb returns to your clit. he pulls out, presses back in, other hand guiding your hips down into a slow rhythm. "that feel good?"

"yyeah" you sigh, making another high noise when a second finger presses in next to the first. he's speeding up now, and the sound of slick spurting out of your cunt, his fingers slamming up into your hole, stretching you out and its so—its so dirty but he isn't stopping, and had your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders. he's reminded of a cat sticking its nails into its owner, and thats you, you're his little kitten, gushing slick all over his hands, making little uhuhuh noises, endless whimpers and gasps of his name. "su-su'kuna, 'kuna! ohhh, uh, uh—'kuna"

sukuna throws his head back, cock so hard its throbbing. like he could cum. like he could cum and all he's got is two fingers inside your weeping cunny. if you sound like this now, if you're arching like this now, hips bucking up and legs kicking like this now—

"fuck baby, thereee you go" he goads, thumb reaching up to massage at your clit. the coil in your lower belly tightens up, faster and faster and sweat burns down your neck and you can tell you're about to come and you try to—you try to get the words out, hand that was previously clawing at his skin reaching down to try and push his hand away. but sukuna's stronger than you, not stopping, grunting out in your ear "can't wait to get inside this cunt. gonna fuck her so good, gonna give my sweet girl what she needs, shit, baby, listen to you, sound so pretty—you're such a good girl. gonna cream around me so good. go ahead and cum pretty, let go, i'll take care of it"

that feeling draws up, tighter and tighter and to fight back a scream, you bite down on his neck, panting wetly against his skin. your legs kick out, squirming wildly in his lap and your orgasms crashes into you like a freight train.

sukuna—he. he keeps his promise. takes care of it, talks you through it, fingers still pumping inside and stretching you out. presses sweet kisses to the side of your face, doesn't even seem to feel your teeth digging in, free hand running up and down your spine. laughs, whenever you seem to come back to it.

his hand reaches up, pats your ass softly. "on your stomach baby, good girl"

it would have been harder, you think, if you hadn't already cum. but you're pliant, going easily to your stomach. you can feel his hands, hot like firey brands, pulling you up to your knees, gripping tightly onto your hips. he cants his cock up against your pussy, swipes it through your slick before reaching down to guide it inside.

your mouth parts on a loud moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head. he's so much bigger than his fingers, wide and girthy—filling you up so well. he pulls out, pushes in a little more, repeats the process until his balls push up against your ass with a soft smack that has you both groaning out.

his hands fall back to your hips, pulling all the way out before slamming back in. you let out a loud yelp, almost pained, sensitive from just cumming and he's thrusting into you with short, hard jerks of his hips, cock hitting your sweet spot so well, breaths coming out of you in aborted little gasps. you fall forwards into the pillows, moaning louder now and sukuna doesn't slow down—but he speeds up, goes harder, grunting softly underneath your whiny and wet noises.

"ffffuck, fuck, baby, yeah. good fucking girl. knew this'd be the tightest little cunt. squeezin me so tight, pretty girl" pours the dirty words from his mouth as his balls smack loudly against your ass. your cunt squelches, so wet from your orgasm and getting wetter still. your hands fly to his arms, whining, pushing blindly at him. its too much, too fast—you can't take it, and you whine again, hands clawing at the sheets trying to—"no, no, fuck. don't run from it baby. c'mon you can take it, i know my good girl can take it"

you can't speak, so you shake your head wildly, jerking forwards hard enough that his cock slips out and that makes you moan like... like a whore, turning on your side to catch your breath. but its only for a second, before sukuna's back, guiding you onto your front with a soft cooing noise—slipping back inside.

its a different angle now, with his arm around your waist, keeping your ass nice and pert against his cock as he drills into your weepy cunt. dirty talk spews from his mouth, telling you to take it, telling you how good you are, how tight your cunny is clamping around his cock. calls you a whore, a slut, and you whine loudly at that, hands spasming in the sheets as you shake your head wildly.

"i-i'm not," you protest, pushing your ass back, "not a slut, 'kuna, not—i'm not, please, pleasepleasepleaseples—"

sukuna laughs, sounding dark and sarcastic. "no, baby, i'm sorry—fuck, you're not a slut, just fffuck, you're just so good for me aren't you? sweet girl, taking it so well, pussy's so good baby, i'll keep you forever. keep you right here on my cock, mm. wanted to be gentle for my sweet girl, i'll treat her right next time—"

his thrusts send you up the bed, headboard knocking against the wall, and you can feel his face shove into the sheets next to your head as he speeds up. he's close to cumming, he tells you as his fingers intertwine with yours. he squeezes your hand tight, grunting lowly in your ear before pulling out so fast your body crumples to the bed like dead weight. he jerks his cock quickly, spurting cum over your ass and lower thighs.

you cough, swallow around your slightly hoarse throat. "they...su-'kuna, what if they...heard? and they come?"

sukuna's hands caresses your flank, every inch of bare skin he can reach. "didn't i tell you i'd take care of it sweetheart?"

you think you manage to nod, fighting against your eyes slipping shut. and you think, you think sukuna laughs again, promises again that he's not letting you go. and your heart clenches when you realize what it had been, the reason he had helped you in the first place.

and it makes you feel gross, makes you feel used. like a whore. and you fall into sleep. and the last thought on your mind is, he'll take care of it.

#✭.jjk #✭.sukuna #✭.yandere #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x black reader #yandere sukuna #yandere sukuna x reader #౨ৎ AMALAINSE -- do not steal my works !

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months

Text

When I Say Run 1

Warnings: dark elements, such as chasing and kidnapping.

Note: I do appreciate all your feedback if you read this. I will hopefully have the next few part done soon. I don't intend this to be very much more than three or so parts.

Inspired by @navybrat817's Monday Thot

You've seen the man before. Often the market is overcrowded enough that you rarely see the same face twice, but you recognize him at once. His deep blue eyes are hard to forget along with the grim shadow cast over his unaltered and unamused expression. You know him because he always seems to know you.

More than once, you caught him watching you. At first, you convinced yourself he was looking past you, or through you, as it felt. But he doesn't look away that day, you do.

You move to the next stall to examine some figs. You realise why you really noticed him. He doesn't belong. What it seems, by his fraying ball cap and canvas jacket, is that he is hiding from someone.

The more you think about him, the more uneasy you are. How is it that you see him every time you come to the market? You come early and he is there, late and he is there. The coincidence feels too canny to be believed.

Still, you aren’t convinced it is more than that. You get carried away and make up ridiculous hypotheticals in your mind. There are many who come to the market every weekend. You probably run into a dozen people over and over and never even realise it. Why then, does he stick out in your mind?

You grab a carton of cherries and a couple of peaches. You pay and take your change, brushing against someone as you pull your hand back. You feel something fall on your foot and kneel down to help gather the dropped plums. The man’s gloved fingers touch the bruises on the skin and you hold back a gasp as you look him in the face.

“Sorry,” you utter as you hand him a dark plum, “I didn’t see you there.”

You stand as he takes the fruit and slip your own into your cloth bag. You sling it over your shoulder as he assures you it's fine but you don’t wait for a conversation. You hadn’t even noticed him get that close. Before, he was well across the plaza with a horde between you. That he moved that fast, so seamlessly is eerie.

You enter a tent a few stalls down and pretend to admire the patterned china of a teapot. There is a putrid taste in your mouth, the rotten flavour of paranoia on your dry tongue. You check the tag on the pot and leave without purchase.

You look around as you emerge back into the late morning sun, the heat of the crowd adding to the sheen of sweat over your brow. You clear your throat as you don’t see the man and keep your head down as you resign yourself to your light haul. You will feel better once you got home.

You weave through the swarm to the edge of the market and dip down the side street as the hum of voices fades behind you. Your apartment is a few blocks down, nestled above a bookstore cafe. It's s humble and affordable, but you can’t complain.

You pull out your change purse as you near the shop but as you reach the front door, it swings open before you can reach for it. It’s him. Again. The leather gloves, the vibrant irises, the dark shanks of hair that frame his squared jaw. He is striking in more ways than one.

You thank him as he holds the door and enter the small shop. You’re nervous. You can get your coffee and wait him out. You don’t want to lead him back to your apartment just above. Or you could lead him on a chase through the city until you lose him and circle back. Your mind races as you try to convince yourself you’re overreacting but you just can’t.

You order your cinnamon blend but the man once more curtails you. He hold a bill out to the cashier and grits for her to keep the change.

“Sir, you don’t have to--”

“I’d like to buy you a coffee,” he insists as he waves the bill at the cashier, “want something sweet to go with it?”

His accent is subtle. He doesn’t speak your language naturally but he does it well. You shake your head and step away from the till. He follows you to the corner where you await your order.

“You can have the coffee,” you say, “I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” he asks. His bluntness makes you squirm.

“I have a boyfriend,” you lie as you rub your neck, “here--”

You unclasped your coin purse and he stops you, squeezing your hand until the clasp clicks shut. “No, you don’t,” he says, “it’s my treat.”

“I don’t want it,” you recoil from him and repeat, “I’m not interested.”

You make to brush by him and he catches your arm, “why not?”

“Because,” you jerk away from him, “why are you following me?”

“Following you?” he scoffs, “you feel special, don’t you?”

“No, I told you, I have a boyfriend.”

“You know, when you lie,” he says, “I can see it…” he hovers his finger along your throat, “right there. Your pulse picks up.”

You push his hand away and sidle past him. You’re shaking as you hurry to the door and look back. He watches you but stays where he is. Your order is called and he turns to grab it. You leave under the chime of the door and peer up and down the street.

You go to the left, heading for the market to hide among the sea of people. It will give you time to figure out what to do next. The station is on the other side of the plaza, you could probably get there without much trouble. That will scare him away.

Your footsteps echo around you like a movie scene. You grip your bag on your shoulder and stop short as a figure appears from the alleyway. You can hear the market just ahead of you, just one corner away.

“You forgot your coffee,” the man says as he blocks your path, “don’t you know that it’s rude to refuse a gift?”

You swallow and back away, speechless. You glanc around. How did he move so fast? You spin on your heel and walk in the other direction. You listen for him behind you but when you dare to peek over your shoulder, he is gone.

You quiver and hook around the next corner, hoping to loop to the west entrance of the market. He’s there too. He tilts his head as he grins and tosses the coffee so it spills down the brick wall. You retreat away from the splash and blink at him dumbly. The street is mostly empty but you hear someone else.

You spin back and fight not to break into a sprint. That time, you don’t look back. You head back along the same way you came but turn down another street before you get to the alley. A metal rattle sounds from overhead as a blur drops down in front you from the rickety fire escape above. The man fixes his hat and chuckles.

“I think you should start running,” he taunts.

You nearly trip over your heels as you rear back. Fear bubbles in your chest and you fall into a run, spurred by his ominous timbre. The bag bounces against your side as you squeeze your change purse in your other hand, feet hitting the old brick road heavy and hard. You stumble as you glance back but find no pursuit.

You slow as your chest burns and stop to catch your breath. It take a moment to get your bearings. You bend over and gulp. You straighten up and face the street behind you, searching for the man in the grey jacket. There is only a couple holding hands and a group of young boys giggling as they kick around a beaten football.

You look up along the rooves of the buildings and the balconies. You don’t see anything. You shake your head and puff. Fucking creep. Probably just wanted to scare you.

You don’t go back to your apartment right away. You’re too agitated for that. You can’t help but look around every few steps and peek down every alley and street before you pass. It’s a good forty minutes before you realise you're lost. You never come to this part of town.

You swear under your breath and cringe. You should have gone to the precinct like you planned. You were so panicked you didn’t think. You were more focused on getting away than getting safe.

You drop your change purse into your jumbled bag of cherries and peaches. You reach into your pocket and your heart drops. You search both pockets. Your phone must have fallen out when you were running.

You resign yourself to a listless trail back home through the urban maze. You could figure it out, there has to be a map around here somewhere. You are sure you just passed one a moment ago.

You start down the street and mourn the loss of your phone. That would take a while to replace with your lousy wages. Fuck. Why didn’t you buy the warranty?

The roar of a motorcycle cuts through the din of the city streets and echoes all around you. You ignore it and follow the sidewalk as you squint at the street signs above. You try to find something familiar, something to find your way.

Suddenly you're taken off your feet, a crushing grip knots the back of your shirt as you're hurtled forward. You scream as the brickwork hazes beneath you and suddenly the engine revs and you’re turned sharply with its motion. You float just above the ground, dangling from your shirt.

You looked up in confusion, the strength of the man holding you with one arm sends ice through your veins. The twinkling eyes, the angle of his jaw, and the slight curve of his lips makes you wince. He thrusts you closer and bends you over the front of the motorcycle so that you're trapped between him and the tank.

“Better tuck those feet in,” he warns as you're folded over the metal on your stomach, “I told you to run.”

He veers suddenly and the momentum pushes you against him as you clung to the bike, wind whipping your face as it hovers before the dingy pipes of the bike. It feels as if you’ll fly off at any second. You reach to grasp onto the man's jacket as you clench every muscle of your body to keep from slipping.

The engine rips through the air as your head spins. You have a choice; fall off and die or hang on and live.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #drabble #series #captain america #winter soldier #avengers #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes x reader

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konigbabe · 1 year

Text

like real people do

Pairing: ID!Leon Kennedy x fem!teacher!reader | single dad AU

Word count: 5.8k

Tags/warnings: no y/n; fluff; eventual smut; p-in-v; slice of life; gendered female reader; gendered female anatomy; original kid Kennedy character

Summary: He's the sun, and you're the earth, drawn into his orbit; yet, he's your student's father. Handsome. Confident. Alluring. But off limits–at least he should be.

a/n: Inspired by @yeyinde’s ask. Also, canon ID!Leon is around 29 but Leon in this '"universe" is aged up to be in his 30s (age won't be specified but I imagine him to be in his mid-to-late 30s).

divider by @benkeibear [source]

series masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

The voice in your head keeps telling you to be professional, the thought of spending an evening with this man hard to resist; his confident, easy-going demeanor, the way he doesn’t give up easily– “So? It’s just dinner.”

The innocence of children always manages to brighten up even the darkest of days, their smiles and eagerness to learn contagious; filling your heart with positivity. It's a feeling that's hard to come by as an adult; life's challenges tend to chip away at your soul and slowly rob you of that childhood magic.

As the clock strikes five and your shift comes to an end, the school falls into an eerie silence. A lingering sense of relief washes over you when leaving the building; you've done your part in shaping young minds.

Walking out the front door, the warmth of the sun caresses your skin, its rays sliding around your bare arms like silk.

Twisting the key in the lock, your eyes catch a glimpse of slight movement from the corner of your vision. Turning your head, you see a little girl perched on the concrete steps below, her delicate features illuminated by the warm glow of the sun.

Her hair, a cascade of light brown waves, frames her chubby cheeks and the crown of her head is adorned with blonde highlights that shimmer like golden threads.

She turns to you when you address her, slowly stepping down to her level.

"What are you still doing here," you sit down, her small backpack creating a wall between your bodies.

As you sit side by side with the little girl, basking in the comforting embrace of the sunlight, she kicks her legs up; eyes up front, both of you watch the cars pass by on the street.

The Washington Spring air’s filled with the sweet scent of blooming cherry blossoms, carried on a gentle breeze that rustles through the trees. The distant sounds of children playing in a nearby park mingle with the honking of cars and the chirping of birds, creating a symphony of noise that signifies the arrival of spring in the bustling city.

"Waiting for daddy," she says with a hint of excitement in her voice.

The little girl looks up at you, her eyes full of wonder and innocence. You can't help but wonder about the mysterious Mr Kennedy and his absence; an enigma surrounding his name.

Like a forgotten toy left on the shelf, the girl's father remains absent from any involvement in her education. Despite several months passing since her admission to your class, there has been no sign of him. No parent-teacher meetings, no Father's Day celebration, nothing.

An enigma.

"Speaking of," your voice trails off for a moment, "How’s your daddy doing?" you question her. You shouldn’t; it goes beyond your job description to put a kid in situations like these. But still–

Her eyes, a vivid shade of cerulean, sparkle like sunlit water as she gazes at you; smile wide upon the mention of her father, the young kid toys with the straps on her bag.

"He’s busy."

A pang of understanding pinches your heart.

–his presence (or rather the absurd lack of it) keeps gnawing at your brain.

"He fights monsters," the girl adds after a moment of silence; her tone more serious. It's as if she's describing a mythical hero, fighting off beasts in some far-off land.

"He seems to be busy quite a lot," you smile to ease the topic; well aware that the girl, as bright as she is, surely catches on as you keep asking the same question every week, "is your mom coming to the parent–teacher meeting?"

The girl shakes her head before she speaks, "I don’t know my mom."

Oh.

You know you shouldn’t push more; well aware of the unprofessionalism you’re displaying.

"The woman who picks you up–"

"–aunt Claire," the kid corrects you, "I’m sorry for interrupting, miss teacher."

You smile, trying to put her at ease. It's clear that she's been brought up with good manners.

Lost in how to answer her, you almost don't hear the sound of a car approaching. The girl jumps up, her face alight with excitement. A low rumble reverberates through the air as a sleek black SUV glides up to the curb, its shiny exterior reflecting the warm rays of the sun.

The tinted windows obscure the view inside the car, adding an air of mystery to the vehicle. As the car comes to a stop, the quiet hum of the engine fades to a gentle purr, and the driver's door swings open.

The girl grabs her backpack at the same time a man steps out of the car; you’re able to only see the light brown hair decorating his head.

"Daddy," the girl yelps in excitement. You stand up, dusting the invisible dust from your jeans.

He stands tall, his broad shoulders stretching the fabric of the crisp white shirt, tucked tightly into the blue dress pants. A single button undone on his collar, revealing the curve of his clavicles. The sun glints off his aviator sunglasses, hiding his eyes from view. He approaches the little girl with a warm smile as she runs into her father, you presume; standing still, watching the situation unfold before your eyes.

Lowering himself to her level, he extends his arms, inviting her in. She eagerly accepts, wrapping her little arms around his neck in a welcoming embrace.

"Hey there, pup," you manage to hear his voice; low and soft. Gentle. "Sorry I’m late; got held up by paperwork. Y’know the drill."

The kid chuckles before pulling away, a sound so pure and innocent it brings a smile to your face.

Standing back up, his face turns towards you. You're struck by his imposing presence, the way he commands attention without even trying. His chiseled jawline is dusted with a light stubble, giving him an air of ruggedness. He moves with confidence towards you, one hand enclosed with his daughter’s.

The girl tugs at the sleeve of his shirt, introducing you before he even reaches your standing point–to which he smiles gently.

"Well, nice to meet you," his hand extended in greeting, "I’m Leon Kennedy. Her dad," he nods towards the girl.

"Mr Kennedy," you murmur, taking his hand in yours; noting the callouses on his palm.

As your eyes travel up his arm, they catch sight of a fresh bandage peeking out from under his slightly rolled up sleeve. But it's not until you look up at his face that you see the true extent of his weariness. Small scratches mark his jaw, subtle hues of purple and yellow decorate his cheekbone like a watercolor painting.

It’s clear that he's been through a rough patch. Makes you wander back to the girl’s words–

("He fights monsters.")

–and maybe he does. In some twisted sense.

"I actually wanted to speak with you," you release his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin lingering on your fingertips., "are you free next Tuesday? Around one PM?"

"Am I in trouble," he chuckles; the stretch of his lips exposing a slight scar on his lower lip.

The girl tilts her head, eyes studying you intently. You can't help but notice the slight beauty marks across her neck, the softness of her features, the way she looks up at her father with curiosity.

"Not really; I just need to discuss some matters with you."

"Okay," he responds, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, yet he remains stoic. Posed. "Sure."

"I’ll see you then," you nod and take your leave, but not before stealing a few glances at his back as he turns away from you. It’s impossible not to notice how his broad shoulders strain against the fabric, or how his hair cascades over his forehead; tousled yet somehow perfectly in place.

The weekend flies by, the days blurring together until suddenly it's Tuesday.

Despite his daughter's reassurances from yesterday that he'll be here, the uncertainty of whether he'll actually show up still grips you tightly.

A knock on the open door disturbs your grading.

"Mr Kennedy," you remark upon his arrival. The pen falls onto the desk with a clunk; back straighten, you invite him to sit on the chair prepared for him beforehand.

He’s dressed more casual–the black, expensive looking leather jacket squeaks against the wooden chair as he sits down after a simple "Hello". The faint but distinct aroma of sharp, citrusy notes wafts from his collar; the refreshing and invigorating aroma that catches your attention before your eyes trail to the bandage on his wrist.

Clearly seeing the way your eyes subconsciously linger on the piece of medical tape, Leon puts his other hand over it, shielding your view. Silently focusing your attention back on his eyes; the same blue hues as his daughter’s.

Sitting before you, legs spread apart, the undeniable similarities between him and his daughter are glaringly apparent. The way he holds himself commands respect, his posture erect and confident.

"Mr Kennedy, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you in person."

Fingers interlocking as you lean on your elbows, his gaze following your every movement like a predator stalking its prey; almost as if he’s sizing you up. His eyes watchful.

"Okay," he responds casually, a hint of question behind the simple word.

You clear your throat before continuing. "Your daughter is a remarkable child," a small smile accompanying your words. "She's well-behaved, intelligent, and often surpasses her peers."

Leon nods, lips pressed together.

"Got that from her mother, probably," he remarks. Almost bites back. Jaw tightening.

Leaning back, your fingers drum a quick rhythm against your desk.

"But we’re not here to evaluate your daughter; but you, actually, Mr Kennedy."

Leon’s brows arch up, highlighting the soft surprise that flashes across his face. The subtle shift in his expression does not go unnoticed by you.

"Didn’t know I was being evaluated," his voice trails off.

You nod in acknowledgement, sensing the man's confusion.

"You’re aware of our school assemblies, right?"

His face remains stoic, so you continue.

"Father's Day, parent-teacher meetings, career days, sports day," you list a few, hoping to spark the idea in the man’s mind.

"So," he leans back against the chair, arms folded on his chest.

With an exhale, upon your failed attempt to make him take the hint, you resolve to explaining the school rules to him.

"Our school mandates that the child’s parent or legal guardian be present at at least three of those assemblies per school year. You haven’t been present on any of them, not even last year."

He lifts his chin slightly and raises his eyebrows, eyes fixed on you with a look that suggests he's waiting for more information or an explanation.

"There’s actually a policy within out school that allows teachers to prohibit the child from participating in certain activities or events if a parent is not present–"

"–you’re kidding," Leon interjects, his tone laced with disbelief.

Raising your hand, you stop him from continuing, "and your daughter is a great student, so I don't expect that to happen to her. But with your continuous absence, she's at risk of being excluded from certain activities."

"My job keeps me busy. And I don’t really have a say in it," Leon retorts.

Arms still folded across his chest, his brows furrow in frustration. Defence sets inside his flesh; jaw slightly twitching, his eyes bore into yours.

"Maybe her mother could–"

"–not an option," he stops you before you manage to finish the sentence.

You nod in understanding. Leaving forward, you hope to appeal to Leon’s sense of responsibility a little more.

"In that case; we’re having a sports day this Friday. If you could just show up to support your daughter, I could mark it as you being present."

Leon chuckles, his voice smooth. Looking out the nearby window, he stares into the field right next to the school for a moment, deep in thought. The sunlight filtering through the window casts a warm glow on his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.

Silence passes before he speaks up, "Wouldn't a dinner suffice instead?"

You clear your throat and try to compose yourself, feeling your heartbeat pick up at the unexpected request. "That's not very appropriate, Mr Kennedy, " you say softly, attempting to hide the fluttering in your chest. "Let's see each other at the soccer match."

"Sure. I’ll see what I can do; is that all?" he asks, head turned to the side. You gaze upon the now exposed wound on his jawline, vaguely resembling a cat’s claw scratch. The bruise colors on his cheek faded over the past few days.

"Yes," you assure him.

"Y’know, this whole thing could’ve been an email."

You smile wryly, "Would you react to that email?"

Looking back at you, there’s a flicker of mischievous dancing in his eyes. Leon's gaze holds yours for a moment longer, and you find yourself drawn to the subtle crinkles at the corners of his eyes, evidence of his amusement.

"You got me there."

The sun blankets the field in gold, casting elongated shadows of the children as they scamper around in pursuit of the ball. It’s still quite early. The air’s crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and; sound of excited cheers and shouts echo throughout the surrounding area.

It’s comforting. Soothing in a way.

With a group of teachers, you watch the little girl darting across the field, her movements resembling that of a graceful gazelle as she expertly maneuvers the ball. She weaves in and out of the other players, a look of determination etched on her youthful face.

A chorus of her name echoes across the field, drifting like a wispy trail of smoke. The other kids cheer her on as she makes her way towards the goal, her tiny frame seemingly defying the laws of physics with her quick and nimble movements.

A round of applause erupts when the ball meets the back of the net. You watch as the little girl’s teammates rush to congratulate her.

"And who is that," a woman’s voice tears your gaze away from the cheerful moment, hands stopping mid-clasp.

Curious, you look at her. The other teachers already gazing to your right. To the parking lot.

Leaning against the sleek car, its design demanding attention; even from further away, he exudes an air of quiet confidence that's impossible to ignore. Eyes covered by another set of sunglasses, the same leather jacket strains against his folded arms.

Mr Kennedy.

Leon Kennedy.

Something about him always seems to draw attention; to captivate anyone who catches a glimpse of him.

It’s odd. Uncanny–

You should know better than to think in such a way about your student’s father.

–and you wonder if it’s just you who feels that way.

As the group of teachers chatter, a voice pipes up, "Is he someone's father?"

"He has to be," the conversation carries on, "or he wouldn’t be here–"

"–or he’s a creep."

Turning to face the person who said it, you scoff at the teacher before speaking up.

"He’s her dad," You nod in the direction of the girl with a beaming smile on your face, as she energetically waves at Leon. His response, though polite, is less enthusiastic, evident by the restrained movement of his hand.

Escaping the gossip, you follow the white boundary lines of the field towards your target, the soft grass crunching beneath your feet. Leon's eyes are fixed on the field, his sharp features softened by the spring glow.

But he's quick to notice your approach, turning his head ever so slightly to the left. It makes you feel naked as he shamelessly watches you coming closer.

"Mr Kennedy," you greet him.

As you approach, the warm spring breeze ruffles your hair, the sweet scent of blooming flowers mixing with his heady aroma. Posture relaxed, his broad shoulders almost blend with the darkness of the car behind him.

"Just call me Leon."

Eyes back on the field, a tinge of carelessness in his voice, a small tug on his lips. Hesitating momentarily, you put your hands in your pockets.

"I’d rather stick to being professional."

It makes him chuckle; voice rumbling with amusement–

"You’re making me feel old," he teases.

–making your chest tighten. His words brush against your ears like the gentle rustling of leaves on a cool autumn breeze.

The lightness in his tone, the hint of playfulness, stirs something deep within you.

It’s your turn to return the light laugh. The sound mingling with the chirping of birds in the distance.

"It’s good that you’re here. Your daughter seems to appreciate it as well."

Leon's eyes flicker to his daughter, still surrounded by her teammates; a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah," he says, the warmth in his voice evident, "she’s been talking about this game for a week."

"She’s really talented in sports."

A cool breeze brushes against your skin as he removes his sunglasses. Eyes reminiscent of the clear waters of a mountain lake–the color seems to deepen and intensify as he looks at you, drawing you in.

"That she got from me," the corners of his mouth curve up into a charming smile. His voice deep and smooth, like a glass of well-aged whiskey. You can sense his confidence, the way he carries himself with ease, and it's hard not to be drawn in.

It's alluring. The way he exudes a sense of self-assurance.

Smiling lightly, hand resting on the cool hood of his car, you both watch the children race each other. Cheers fill the soccer fields.

Even in momentarily silence, it’s comfortable–

"Well, she certainly inherited some good genes, Mr Kennedy."

–there’s no awkward cluster around the two of you. It’s natural.

It draws Leon’s attention back to you. Arms folded, his fingers sneak around his bicep, gripping gently as he shamelessly looks at you. His face a canvas of chiseled features and sharp lines. reminiscent of a Greek statue carved out of marble. A faint scent of musk and cologne lingers around him, blending with the sweet aroma of blooming flowers in the air.

"Just so you know, miss teacher," his voice soft melody that lingers in your mind, "the dinner invitation still stands."

It’s tempting.

The words hang in the air, tantalizingly close.

A whistle cuts through the sounds of the soccer field, interrupting the moment. Leon’s attention briefly flickers towards his daughter, checking as the little girl sprints towards the two of you, before returning to your face.

"And I should remind you, Mr Kennedy, that it’s not very appropriate to ask your daughter’s teacher out."

The voice in your head keeps telling you to be professional, the thought of spending an evening with this man is hard to resist though. His confident, easy-going demeanor, the way he doesn’t give up easily–

"So? It’s just dinner," his tone is almost conspiratorial, as if he's sharing a secret with you.

–it makes you feel alive.

(Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It’s not strictly forbidden.

Only frown upon. Harshly.)

It's like he's the sun, and you're the earth, drawn into his orbit.

"Daddy," his daughter doesn’t hesitate, jumping straight into her father’s arm; yet Leon isn’t phased at all, hoisting her into his arms, "Did you see my goal?"

"I did, pup," arm sneaking underneath her knees, you notice the bandage gone, "you killed it."

"Miss teacher," the kid addresses you, hand sneaking into her dad’s hair to hold him tightly while looking up at you with bright, curious eyes, "Did you see me? Did you see my goal?"

"Of course," you answer with a warm smile, "you did great. Seems like you got good genes for it."

The little girl beams with pride, hugging her father even tighter. Leon chuckles, the sound low and rich, and nods his head in agreement.

"I’ll see you on Monday then; pleasure seeing you, Mr Kennedy," as you turn to leave, you can't help but feel a twinge of regret.

The low hum of chatter fills the air, punctuated by occasional laughter and the clink of glasses. The dim lighting casts a warm glow over the wooden booths and bar, giving the place a cozy feel. The smell of fried food and beer lingers in the air, adding to the ambiance of the traditional American pub.

From a corner, a live band plays classic rock tunes, and the patrons nod along to the rhythm, singing softly under their breaths. It's a perfect spot to unwind after a long workday, catch up with friends. Or even make new connections.

Your little freedom.

Away from responsibilities. From the stress of daily life.

This is your escape, your sanctuary, where you can let loose and just be yourself.

Coming to the bartender, you order another round for the group you’re with, only to be taken back by a familiar voice saying your name.

Turning to look at the man by your right, the white stripes on his jacket contrast against the dim, warm ambiance of the room. Fingers tapping on the rim of the glass of whiskey, he takes a sip, his gaze fixed on you; the amber liquid catching the light, casting a glow across his features.

"Mr Kennedy," you exhale, almost in disbelief by the sudden situation.

Mind whirling with surprise and curiosity; the bar is chill against your exposed arm as you lean onto it, turning to look at the man by your side.

"Wouldn’t expect a teacher to be in a bar on Friday night," he smirks, the corner of his lips curving up in amusement.

"We’re not as frigid as people have us to be," you replied, feeling a smile tug at the corners of your lips.

Voice like a smoldering flame, waiting to be ignited, he tilts the glass towards you, "Oh, really."

The allure of his presence tangible.

A gravitational pull.

"Well, Mr Kennedy," the words roll off your tongue smoothly, "I suppose we all have our ways of letting loose after a hard week."

He chuckles, the sound deep and throaty; making your pulse quicken, heartbeat pick up. "I couldn't agree more," he says, taking another sip of his drink.

You study him for a moment; taking in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, how his hair fal across his forehead in a disheveled yet stylish way. There’s something undeniably attractive about him, something that draws you in against all odds–

–like a moth to a flame.

Life has a funny way of working out.

You should stop.

But ‘should’ doesn’t exist in the moment of impulse. In the realm of desire. Pure, unblistered passion. The temptation to follow desire is too strong–

The world falls away.

–and all thought of 'should' dissipates.

Leon's hands slide around your thighs, gripping the flesh firmly as his body pushes against yours. Pinned to the wall; his lips trail the pulse of your neck. The tip of his tongue leaving wet patches on the heated skin.

The sudden intrusion of reality makes you gasp,"What about—".

It’s Leon’s hand on your breast; squeezing, teasing the clothed flesh through the thin material, thumbing at the erect nipple, that earns him a moan. His daughter’s name spilling over into a sound so soft. Inviting.

Like a hummingbird.

A content hum echoes in his chest; pressed tightly against yours. Feeling the muscles contract beneath you, respond to your movement; to the way your hips press against the growing bulge in his pants.

"—she’s stayin’ at my friend’s," he mumbles against the curve of your collarbones, teeth grazing the firm area.

With a strong grip, your fingers entangle in his hair. The texture soft and silky, like running your hands through fine threads of spun gold.

"Isn’t she young for sleepovers?"

It makes him look at you. Eyes glazed over; hungry. Primal–

He pulls you into an embrace, arm wrapping around your back, his palm cupping your ass. The heat of his body seeps through your clothing, searing your skin with its intensity, his breath ghosting over your lips as he whispers, "I really don’t wanna talk about my kid right now."

It’s a command rather than anything else.

Followed by your clothes.

He has you bare before you make up your mind.

–causing your skin to crawl.

With every touch, every whisper, every breath, he leaves you feeling more exposed, more vulnerable.

Limbs tangled together, lips pressed against each other; there’s no beginning and no end. When one begins, the other follows, like an unbroken circle of passion and desire.

Utter consumption by the fire inside you.

Leon’s hands feel scorching. Each stroke branding your skin.

He splits your apart, fills you to the brim. The head of his cock kisses the innermost parts of you as you stay seated on top of him. Nails scratching the firm muscle of his breastplate; he grips your sides. Digs his fingers into the soft, plump flesh there.

Teeth nip at your chin. Gently nibbles accompanied by your hips circling on top of him.

Cascade of groans, grunts and moans echo throughout Leon’s bedroom; each sound building on the other to create a crescendo of pleasure. The mattress beneath you creaks and strains under your knees.

Lost in the feeling.

His words a salacious melody; sung in a sultry whisper followed by his teeth, nibling at your earlobe; securing your grip on his shoulders feeling the strength of his muscles as he guides your moves.

Up and down. Up and down.

Circle your hips when your pelvis meets his. When your ass touches his thighs; when his fingers dig into the round flesh.

The rhythm builds, the tension mounting with every breath. The ache of desire deep inside, a longing that can only be sated by him. With each movement, you feel closer to the edge, your body aching for release.

Leon whispers encouragement, his voice like a caress against your skin. Head buried in the crook of your neck, your arms tighten around his shoulder. Face buried in the top of his head, the scent of him fills your senses; a heady, intoxicating aroma that envelops you in its warmth.

You breathe him in, savoring the subtle notes of bergamot and spice, the rich undertones of musk and earthiness.

Leon’s name leaves your lips in a soft, breathless moan, a prayer to the god of pleasure.

His lips brush against your collarbone, lingering there for a moment before trailing lower, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Skin erupting in goosebumps as his breath tickles your chest, your body bows like a taut bowstring, a supplication to his touch. Offering yourself up to him completely.

Hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and planes of your skin with reverent fingers. As if he knows just where to touch you.

With a strong pull and push, your back meets the hard mattress. His hands move over you like a painter's brush, each stroke bringing out a new hue of pleasure. Hips grinding against yours.

Pressing your body closer to his, chest to chest, he rocks against you. The intensity of his movements leaves you gasping for air, a low moan escaping your lips as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin as he continues to rut into you.

Long lost is the slow motion–

Your pelvis meets his in a harsh, demanding thrust.

–now he’s chasing his own high. His own release.

His hand slides to cup your jaw, grip your shoulder, eyes boring into yours; intense and unwavering, as if he’s trying to read your thoughts through the depth of your eyes. Consumed by the heat of you.

Head thrown back, you close your eyes; unable to match the fire in his as he grinds against you; his breaths ragged gasps, the only sound in the room the soft rustling of sheets and the slapping of skin against skin.

Leon knows he won’t last long. Not with the way your mouth remains agape, nails digging into the firm tendons of his biceps; heels digging into the flesh of his ass, pushing him deeper. Demanding him to go harder.

You just look so pretty underneath him.

Fingertips trace the warm flesh of your curves. They move slowly, mapping the supple contours of your body with precision; each touch deliberate, a way of committing the curves of your form to memory.

The sensation is electric, every nerve ending on high alert.

His thumb finds your clit, circling it with teasing precision, a feather-light touch. Pushing your hips into his, he obliges your silent demand – adding a bit more pressure with each pass. The slow, steady rhythm of his touch in bright contrast to the sharp thrusts.

Building the tension inside you, until you feel like you might burst. But he doesn't let up, not yet. He's savoring every moment, enjoying the way you writhe beneath him.

Your breath hitches, body tensing as he works you with an almost clinical precision. The ache between your legs grows, spreading through your entire body. He watches you, gauging your reactions, and adjusts his touch accordingly.

The way he focuses on you, with a singular, unwavering intensity, is both thrilling and terrifying.

As for Leon, every movement, every sound, is calculated. He wants to make this last. He wants to make you lose control.

His muscles tense as he drives into you, each thrust bringing him closer to the edge. His breaths come in short gasps, matching the rhythm of your moans. The heat between you intensifies, a physical force that binds you together.

With one final push, final flick of a thumb, he takes you over the edge, his name on your lips.

Clenching around him, walls fluttering, his thrusts grow slow. Leisurely.

As if he’s tantalizing himself. Savoring the feel before he lets go with a groan; a guttural sound that echoes through the bedroom; body spasming. The two of you entwined in a moment of pure, unadulterated bliss.

There should be some sort of regret.

Standing by the foot of Leon’s bed, still searching for your clothes amid the scattered chaos of the apartment, covered by a random shirt you’ve found on the ground (that’s definitely not the one you’ve come with), you can’t help but be drawn to the sleeping man lying before you.

The sheets barely cover the curve of his lower back, and even in slumber, the muscles of his back remain visible; the outline of his physique remains defined and sharp, even in relaxation. The memory of his back muscles beneath your palms lingers on your skin, as if he were still present with you in that moment.

There’s no regret.

Exiting the bedroom, you walk past the kitchen into the hallway. The emptiness of the space is palpable, with nothing adorning the plain white walls; no family photos or decorations to add personality. Only the essential pieces of furniture remain. The floor creaks beneath your bare feet as you open the door closer to you–

(It’s almost like he doesn’t have anyone.

A sense of desolation creeps in you.)

–and are met with a blinding contrast to the rest of the apartment. Rainbow colored sheets neatly tucked into the small bed, pillows in shape of various animals. Light furniture covered in school supplies; and a photo decorating the nightstand.

You pick it up, immediately recognized the two people. It might be the first time you’re seeing Leon actually smile, wide and bright. Happy; with his daughter tightly wrapped in his arms. Faces pressed together, smiling at the camera.

"I hope you're not trying to steal anything," Leon's voice interrupts your reverie; low and husky, still laced by the morning sleep, "I don't have much, y’know."

As you pivot to face him, you can't resist noticing how his bare feet stand out against his fully-clothed form. Hair tousled and messy, only adding to his rugged appeal.

An irresistible wave of attraction washes over you as you scrutinize his appearance, and his playful tone only adds fuel to the fire.

"Don't worry, I'm not after your prized possessions," you reply with a smirk, feeling emboldened by his proximity.

Leon's eyes twinkle mischievously as he steps closer to you, his warm breath brushing against your cheek. "Well, in that case, what’re you after?"

"I was just looking for a bathroom."

Leon's gaze lingers on you, lips curled up in a half-smile. "The bathroom’s down the hall to the right," he points with a nod of his head.

You nod back, trying to ignore the electric sensation that courses through you at his proximity. "Thanks," you say, stepping past him towards the direction he indicated.

As you walk down the hallway, you can't shake off the feeling of emptiness that you felt earlier. It's clear that Leon lives a minimalist lifestyle, but the lack of personal touches leaves you with a sense of melancholy.

Entering the bathroom, you take a moment to splash water on your face, trying to compose yourself before facing Leon again.

His voice echoes through the small apartment as you make your way towards his voice, entering the kitchen; you're struck by how immaculate it is. Everything’s in its place, and there isn't a single dish out of place. The countertop is spotless, the sink free of any debris, the stainless-steel appliances gleam in the light.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee fills the air with the morning sun streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room.

"I’ll pick her up in an hour," Leon stands in front of the refrigerator, two mugs in one hand, bare feet making a soft thumping sound against the linoleum floor. His hair’s still tousled from sleep, his t-shirt is wrinkled, clinging to his muscles as he holds the phone to his ear.

There’s a certain charm to his disheveled appearance that you find appealing.

Looking at you, he makes no effort to stop the call, instead a playful undertones his voice as he hands you a mug and motions towards the coffee machine, "yeah, just woke up. Had a long night."

Shaking your head at his words; he watches you with a small, amused smile, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

"See you then. Bye, Claire,” he ends the call, turning his full attention to you.

"Y’know, miss teacher," he pours himself a glass of water, "if you just wanted to skip the whole dinner thing, you should’ve just said."

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satorusugurugurl · 4 months

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I Think He Knows: (Chapter Two)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he possibly tell you how he feels when you’re leaving him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,065

Warning: Language, suggestiveness, grinding, neck kisses 🥴 wet dream, making out

A/N: I loved this got me all hot with several parts. Ugh, I fucking love Geto!!! If you want to be on the tag list you MUST have your age in bio!!

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

The alcohol must have gone to your brain. Or maybe it was laced with something! Could alcohol expire? Because there was no way, no way in hell, you heard Suguru correctly.

“I'm sorry.” The smell of earthy musk and mint twists around you like tendrils. “I think I misheard you. Could you repeat that?”

Suguru places his hand flat against the wall next to your head, leaning in closer, his breath teasing your lips. “You heard me loud and clear. I offered to teach you.” Both of you are breathing heavily as your eyes dart from hungry gaze back to his lips.

“I-Is this a joke? Did Satoru put you up to this?”

Your blatant dismissal of his proposal almost hurts. Were you just not into him the same way he was into you? Or were you just shy? There was a possibility that you weren’t sure how to act in a situation like this. Suguru would not manipulate or push you into doing anything you didn’t want. Regardless of how he felt, you’re still his best friend. He didn’t want to ruin your friendship.

“No one put me up to it. This is me, wholeheartedly offering to help you out.”

“T-This is sudden, and you’re drunk.”

Suguru can see a look in your eyes. The subtle way your eyes dart from his eyes to his lips. How you shift your legs, and how your breath comes as heavy exhales against his mouth. You smell like sweet fruit with a twinge of alcohol. He can only imagine how good it would taste if it smelled this good. God, he wants to taste you so fucking back. And from all the ways your body moves, it seems you might like it too. But he wasn’t going to force it on you.

“I’m not drunk, but if you are, we can put a pin in this conversation until later.”

Your fingers grasp his shirt, gently playing with the fabric. He wonders what’s going through that pretty little head of yours. You hadn’t rejected the idea of kissing him, but you hadn’t said yes. He didn’t know that you were buzzed and currently contemplating what you wanted to do.

Having your first kiss in a dark alley with your best friend was tempting. You’d always imagined what it would be like to be kissed. In all the movies and books you’ve read, people make it out to be this extravagant thing. It’s a mind-blowing experience; it could make or break a relationship, which is why you were so hesitant.

Was Suguru offering to ‘help’ you, or was he wanting to lose himself?

Whenever he had nightmares about Riko, he did one of three things. One, he’d throw himself into his art, forgetting to eat while he painted his feelings out. Two, he would find some girl at the bar, take her home and fuck her stupid. The third option was that he’d shut in on himself and ignore calls and texts until you had to intervene, but he hadn’t done that in a couple of years.

Knowing the state that he was in, you were uncertain if he was offering to ‘help’ with research or if he was seeing you as a girl to take home and lose himself in. The alcohol and warmth of an early summer night weren’t helping the situation. You needed to think about this clearly, but he was complicating it.

His mouth was so close; the smell of sake and the mint gum had you melting, inching closer. It was just for research; one kiss wouldn’t hurt, would it? It might help you with your writing; god, just having him so close his hands on either side of your head against the wall, how good he smelt, it had your brain buzzing with inspiration.

“You smell really good.” The breathless words that leave your mouth have Suguru shuddering. “Like really good.”

“Yeah? You smell good, too.” His head is no longer facing you. Instead, his face is in the crook of your neck, and he inhales, taking in your scent. “So good you make me dizzy.”

“O-Ooh.”

Suguru’s eyes are focused on your soft, delicate skin, and then he does something that will probably cross the line, a line that he’s so desperately wanted to run across. His lips gently against your neck, a jolt of warmth between your legs. The tiniest gasp sounds from your mouth, but Suguru notices it’s not a sound of apprehension or displeasure. No, that tiny gasp was one he had heard from several of his past partners. Hearing it leave, other girls had clued him that they were feeling good. Perhaps they might want to take it further.

But hearing it come from you.

The self-control it took for him not to slam his lips against yours at that moment was wavering. He wanted to stay strong, and he had to do it for you and your friendship. By some miracle, he managed to pull himself away from your neck, giving him a chance to take you in.

Your lips were slightly parted, and your chest heaved with the heavy pants escaping you. Seeing you like this in a new light, fuck, this was so intense. Suguru’s lips inched closer, almost touching yours as his breathing quickened to meet yours.

“What do you want.”

“I-I want—” You gulped, gripping his shirt tighter, “I want to—“

“Yo, Suguru!” The side door to the alley opened, and Satoru popped his head out. “Nanami and Shoko just got cut off; they’re ready to go—ooh, oh shit.”

His annoying blue eyes glanced over the two of you. You were pinned against the wall, trapped by his best friend, while Suguru was inches from your face. His sudden appearance had Suguru grumbling in annoyance and you a stuttering mess. The fingers that so delicately held onto Suguru pushed him back, freeing you from his larger frame.

“T-They’re ready to go!?” Your voice was too high as you tried to play it cool but failed miserably. “Great! Let me go wash up real quick!”

Suguru watched as you ran back inside, shoulder-chucking Satoru in the process. His other best friend followed you with his eyes, only stepping out into the alleyway until he lost you in the crowd. When he looked at Suguru, he chuckled nervously. He witnessed him gently bumping his head against the wall.

He could have done that forever if it wasn’t for his friend's hand gently grabbing his shoulder. “Sorry, man, if I knew you two were getting handsy back here, I wouldn’t have barged in like I did.” Suguru exhaled through his nose, letting out all the pent-up frustration that encouraged him to beat the shit out of Satoru.

“Nah, it’s fine; we weren’t even doing anything.”

“Well, we have very different ideas of ‘anything’. Having her caged in by your body, lips inches from each other, did not look at all like anything. That looked like you were finally making a move!”

“A move that you fucked up.” He scrubbed a hand down his face.

“So you’re mad—great uhm—I’m going to wrangle up Nanamin and Shoko.”

While Suguru stood in the alley, trying to calm the almost murderous rage that boiled in his chest, you were splashing water on your face in the bathroom and ignoring the knocks from drunk women outside as you rang your fingers over your lips. The heat of his breath still lingers there, aching to have felt him against you. You found yourself imagining what yanking your best friend in and kissing him would have felt like.

Just imagining it had your body all tingly. Your heart felt as if it had run a marathon. All of these sensations were new and strange, and you liked it. There was excitement about how close Suguru was and how he’d almost kissed you and your neck. Your fingers ran over that spot, trying to imagine what several kisses against your surprisingly oversensitive kin would feel like. One kiss alone had heat pooling between your legs.

Getting turned on by reading books, fanfics, or movies was something you were familiar with. Another thing was getting turned on by another living human, your childhood best friend! Books could only go so far, to actually feel the warmth of another person, one you were familiar with; it had goosebumps rising against your skin.

You could lose yourself thinking about what could have been and how things would have gone down if Satoru hadn’t interrupted you. Would you have let him kiss you? Let his lips, which looked so soft, brush against yours for research? Or would you have chickened out? Several scenarios could have gone down, but you would never know because your dumbass friend had interrupted you both.

Now that you were sobering up, would you even be able to let a situation like that happen again without completely freaking out? Suguru had said he wanted to help improve your romance scenes. But what was it you were so nervous about? Was it just because of the fact you were a virgin? Or was it because Suguru was your friend, and you didn’t want to ruin that? It was most likely a combination of both.

Several things could have happened, and you could stand in the bathroom imagining different outcomes, but that wouldn’t help. The best thing to do was to sober up entirely and process about what the fuck had just happened. You could decide what to do once you wrap your head around it.

Either allow Suguru to teach you things or try to improve your writing on your own.

After several minutes of clearing your head, you left the bathroom, ignoring the glares from the women in line. Suguru was waiting for you at the table where you’d been. Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you waited to see if things were awkward or weird between you.

Much to your relief, he just smiled as you joined his side. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah.”

Things were strangely normal as you and the group crowded in Satoru’s car. The music blasted as Satoru drove to a drive-thru for ice cream. Satoru and Shoko sat in the front, followed by Haibara and Nanami, while you and Suguru sat in the back. Your hands rested near each other, maybe an inch apart.

With the music blaring and the drunken conversations yapping, now might be a good time to talk to Suguru about the almost alley kiss. Turning your head so you could face him, you watched his eyes struggling to stay open. He shut them before shaking his head, trying to keep them open before they ultimately shut again. The nightmares Suguru suffered were the worst. They felt so lifelike, putting him back in his second year, right before the accident. So when he had them, he had issues falling asleep, which was why he’d been up since three.

While the kiss that almost happened was eating you up, begging to be discussed, to happen, Suguru was far more important. You gently eased his head down, allowing him to rest it on your shoulder. He hummed softly, a tired sound of approval or an incoherent thanks before he rubbed his face against you. You rested your head against him, staring forward at the cars in front of you.

But your attention is quickly drawn back to the seat between you as Suguru hooks his pinky around yours as he falls asleep. You could have easily pulled away, freeing yourself from his loose grip, but you twisted his finger around his. That simple gesture resulted in Suguru humming happily.

While he relaxed, you felt tense. Here you were, being a pillow for your best friend after he offered to teach you things. Now, you acted casually with each other as if everything was normal. Was he waiting for you to mention it, or was it that he was just so overcome by exhaustion that he was waiting until later when there were no remains of alcohol in your system?

You should’ve been thinking about what you wanted to do yourself, whether that was allowing him to teach you things or to remain friends. But the warmth of his pinky wrapped around yours and the slow, shallow breasts that escaped him had your eyes feeling oh so heavy. You blinked hard, trying to stay awake, but you were a goner once you rested your head fully against his.

Your dreams whisked you off to the world you had built in your mind. A mystical kingdom full of magic and wonder. You found yourself wandering the village square, looking at vendors, before you were suddenly yanked into an alley, much like the one Suguru had pulled you down.

“Oaklynn.” The man with a hooded cloak, most likely Ilsan, your main male protagonist, whispered.

“What’s wrong, Ilsan? Is there danger? One of the Reverians?” You glanced towards the bustling street you had just left, watching people walk by.

Suddenly, his hand's cage around your head, drawing your attention to the knight. “No, there’s no danger.” His voice is smooth and rich, making you shiver as he pulls in closer.

“Then what is it?”

The knight leans forward, pressing a hot kiss against your neck. The sudden sensation leaves you gasping, your back arching off the stone wall. “You just looked so delectable.” His breaths out, knocking your legs apart with his foot. “I just had to taste you, please, princess.” You surprisingly oblige, spreading your legs wide, allowing him to bunch up your gown in his hands, pooling the fabric around your hips.

“I-Ilsan,” his hips attached to your neck, “oh my gods~!” His lips suck, his teeth nip at your sensitive skin, leaving you feeling weak and hot. “Ilsan.”

“Oak,” his knee suddenly slides between your spread legs, pressing firmly against your clothed cunt. “Huh~ look at that.” He rubs his knee back and forth over your sex. Making you cry out, only to have him clamp his hand firmly over your mouth. “Soaking wet~ how shameless my princess.”

You whimper against his palm, which is so warm and smells like earthy musk. Your hips roll, dragging your clit perfectly over his thigh. It feels so good; your pussy is hot, so hot it feels like it’s on fire. You arch, rolling faster and faster.

“You're so wet I can feel you through my pants.” The cloaked man licks at your pulse, nipping it gently. “I can help you~ teach you how to feel this good~.”

His voice you know his voice. The character in front of you pulls away, allowing you to push the hood of his cloak back. The man with his knee between your thighs was not the auburn-haired Ilsan with emerald eyes. No, it’s long black hair in a bun, the rest cascading down your best friend's back. His dark eyes darken as you roll your hips against him.

“Princess,” he grunts, “you feel so good. Let me touch you. I wanna make you cum~.”

“S-Sugu~ oooh fuck!” You cry out, tilting your head back. “I-I’m gonna~ gonna~!”

“Yes~ cum for me, baby~ cum all over my thigh~”

“I-I’m cu—!!”

Your eyes open, and you gasp. Your hips stop rocking against the pillow you’re hugging. Your shorts are wet, so fuckin wet, leaving you confused as you slowly sit up in bed that’s not yours. Confusion doesn’t even have a chance to settle in as the bedroom door flies open.

Suguru stood there, chest heaving as he looked around, searching the room. “What happened?! What’s wrong?!” He turns the light on; his hair is damp, still wet from a shower.

“S-Suguru, wait, why—” Glancing around the room, hung up with different paintings and photos, you came to the harsh realization that you were not in your apartment. You were in Suguru’s. So that meant the pillow you were rocking against was his.

“I heard you groaning and moaning.” He relaxed once he realized you weren’t in any danger. “I thought something was wrong.”

“I-I’m fine!”

“Are you sure? You’re flushed.”

“Yep, just fine!!” He tilted his head, dark strands of hair falling over his shoulder. “Yep! Well! Uhm, why am I here?!”

Suguru rubbed his neck, darting his gaze towards the wall. “Well, we both fell asleep in the back seat. Satoru woke me up with his stupid flash from his cell phone when he dropped us off. I was so out of it and carrying you that I forgot to grab your purse and keys.” You already saw where this was going. “So I figured I’d let you sleep in my bed while I took the couch. Are you sure you’re okay, princess?” Suguru watched you stiffen, pulling the sheets up to cover your hips.

“Mhmm, yep, never better.”

“Is that why you’re stiff as a board?”

Damn, his perspective gaze. “Yep, uhm, I just—”You were wet, and you were almost certain there was a wet spot on the pillow between your legs. If he were to see that, you might die of embarrassment. “Had a dream,” Suguru observed the way you sat. Your face was flushed, your pulse raced in your throat, and you were panting slightly.

“Uh-huh,” he grinned, “a wet dream? Want me to grab a pen and notebook so you can take some notes?”

“What?! No! I didn’t have a wet dream!” Suguru barked out a laugh as you failed to convince him otherwise. “A-And I wouldn’t need a pen and paper! I don’t hardly remember it!”

“So it was a wet dream.”

You grumbled, covering your face with your hands; there was no point in lying now. “I hate you sometimes.” Suguru laughed softly, shaking his head as he sat on the bed before you.

“Nah, you love me.” You both chuckle as he plays with the sheet on your lap.

The gentle caress of his fingers has you thinking back to the alley and how gentle he was, how he had asked what you wanted. In the heat of the moment, you weren’t so sure how to reiterate what it was you. From the suddenness of his actions to the alcohol that was making you dizzy. Now that you were sitting in his bed with him across from you, what you wanted was clear.

It made sense, from your reaction in the bathroom to how badly your body reacted to being near him. Even your dreams all pointed in the direction that your subconscious wanted to go. Two years in Europe was a long time. And while you desperately wanted to see the sights and improve your writing, being away from all your friends and family for that long would be unbearable if there was a chance that your best friend helping you with your romance scenes would allow you to stay in Japan.

What was the harm in trying?

You placed your hand on him, Preventing him from moving his fingers over the sheets further. “You okay?” He asked, taking in the flashed look on your face. “I was just teasing. Everybody has wet dreams sometimes. If you made a mess, I don’t mind. I can easily change my sheets.” Suguru expected you to playfully smack him on the cheek or punch him in the arm. Instead of doing either of those things, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I was thinking about your offer. You know how to teach me stuff.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, and seeing that I’m not buzzed anymore, I finally decided what I wanted.”

“And what is it that you want?” He inched in closer, crowding you against the headboard of his bed.

You spread your legs wide, allowing him to sit between them. “I want to improve my writing. I don’t want to be gone for a whole two years.” Suguru just nodded as you spoke. “And I don’t want to go out and fool around with anybody. I would rather learn these kinds of things from somebody that I know and trust.” You grip the fabric of his t-shirt.

“So, you’re going to take me up on my offer? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“So, I have your permission to kiss you? I think that’s the best way to start this off. Seeing that you’ve never been kissed before.” All you did was nod your head, and his hands cupped your face instantly. “If you want to stop, just tell me.”

A final nod was all of the consent he needed. He leaned in and gently pressed his lips against yours. They're warm and soft, and you press your face against him. Pulling back just an inch once he smiles against you

“What?” You ask, your grip tightening on his shirt.

“Nothing, I just—I’m happy to finally,” he sighs, “to finally help you with your book, is all.” Suguru exhales against your mouth, mint toothpaste still fresh on his breath. “Now that the first peck is out of the way, let me give you a real kiss.”

“A rea—mph!”

His lips are against yours in a heated kiss. Once, that was full of passion and fire. The smell of mint intensifies as his tongue flakes out against your bottom lip. He was asking politely for entrance. You release the gentle grip on his shirt to wrap your arm around his neck as you allow him entrance into your mouth. His tongue gently moves against yours and his symphony of minty flavor. He’s pressing himself harder against you, caging you in against the headboard.

Your tongue moves hesitantly against his, and your movements are gentle and unsure. The sheer innocence has Suguru groaning into your mouth. Hearing sounds like that escape him has your pussy throbbing in delight. You moan back, and Suguru deepens the kiss now that he knows you’re into it. He places a hand on your hip while the other gently cups the back of your head, pressing your mouth tighter against his.

Kissing was a lot of fun. The way your mom’s mailed it together, eagerly exploring each other with your tongues, how do you tingle in all the right places? There was no way kissing like this. This couldn't get any better. But it does when he presses his knee between your legs gently against your clothes core. The sudden sensation of his knee firmly pressing against you was way better than your dream.

You shiver in both excitement and hesitation. That shivering has Suguru breaking the heated kiss. “You good? Need to stop?”

“N-No, I just.”

“You just what?”

“It reminds me about the dream I had.”

“The not a wet dream, dream?”

If he weren’t so goddamn hot right now, you would’ve walked out. “Yes, that dream.” Suguru hums, trailing his lips down your neck.

“Do you want to try what you were doing in your dream?” Your best friend is fully anticipating for you to say no. That all you wanted to do was continue to kiss.

“Yes.” That is the last thing he expected you to say.

Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945

Forever Tag List:

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wheneverfeasible · 1 month

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A random plot idea that came to me suddenly. Please feel free to use this idea, just credit me if it inspires you and send a link with any story written!

I’ve read a few fics with the premise but it’s like a She’s All That AU where King Steve is bet to make The Freak, Eddie Munson, fall in love with him, or make him popular, or get him to prom so that they can Carrie him. And of course Steve goes along with it because he’s still trying to be what people want him to be or whatever and he doesn’t like it but he does it, only to end up catching feelings for Eddie.

And okay yeah. Cue that heartbreak angst when Eddie finds out. But…BUT…

Imagine that AU but Eddie knows about the bet. They don’t know he knows, but he discovers it quickly. He’s King Freak after all; the gossip gets back to him before the popular jocks even get to putting the plan in motion, or he overhears it himself, or whatever. But he knows.

He knows and he plays along. He lets Steve woo him, acts first like he’s wary and annoyed about the guy, makes him work for it, but he lets himself pretend to fold and accept the dates. Accepts the kissing. Accepts the more.

Because yeah, he knows it’s fake, knows Steve could never actually want him, but he still has King Steve’s mouth around his dick, and he honestly has to congratulate the guy for going so far for a bet. And hell, he’s not going to pass up the chance to see just how good the fabled King is with his dick either.

Eddie figures he’ll have some fantastic sex, eat good food and get some dope gifts like a new amp for his sweetheart all courtesy of Harrington money, and…yeah, okay, even if it’s fake, Steve’s actually pretty good company. And Eddie even makes friends with one of the cheerleaders and isn’t that fucking bizarre but she’s sweet even if her boyfriend is an ass.

And Steve is still friends with his ex and through that he knows some dweeb kids, and damn is Harrington actually kind of good with kids, kind of…nice? And he’s funny in a bitchy kind of way, and his family life actually kind of (a lot of) sucks. And he helps this band geek who was being bullied by one of his teammates, and…and maybe, in another life, Eddie might have thought King Steve was actually a good dude instead of the douchebag he knew he was.

Because this was fake. It’s all just a bet. And Eddie is going to laugh when, after all of this, he gets to pull the final prank on Harrington and all his court. Because he knows it’s fake. He knows Steve doesn’t actually like him. He knows that, even when he laughs in all their faces at the end because he got to fuck King Steve in the ass, he’s going to be leaving it all alone and…and without Steve.

And that’s fine. It’s fake. It’s fine. Steve could and would never actually like him. The King and The Freak. And it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.

And the truth is revealed, and Eddie laughs at them because he’s known all along, and Eddie pretends his heart isn’t breaking while Steve does the same. And it’s okay and it’s fine.

Except it isn’t.

But it is fine, because Steve’s ex? That band geeked he helped? Eddie’s cheerleader friend?

By god they’re going to get these two idiots to realize what’s been right in front of their eyes this whole time.

And this is only the beginning of the royal love story of King Hair and King Freak and how they turned Hawkins High upside down.

I guess you could say they really are all that.

Tagged: @derythcorvinus

#she’s all that au #she’s all that au adjacent at least #no upside down au #king steve #king freak eddie #eddie the freak munson #steve the hair harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie au #stranger things #modern au #if you squint #plot thots

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sl-vega · 3 months

Note

Hi there! Recently stumbled upon your Hiori piece (I Don’t Know Much, But I Know I Want You) and Oh. My. Gosh. It’s amazing!! The story was so cute and I also love the little Karasu interactions you threw in; it matches their characters so well and it’s so well written! If you ever feel motivated or inspired to do so, I’d love to see where you’d take the piece in a part 2! No pressure of course, I just think that seeing how they’d interact in your writing would be really awesome. Currently on my way to binge read every other work of yours; I love your writing style o7

Thanks for reading my ask and have a lovely day!! :)

˚୨୧⋆｡ MALL MEET CUTES

part one // part two

pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader

genre: fluff, oneshot, classmates to lovers, friends to lovers (?), pre-bluelock au/canon compliant

synopsis: hiori is still pretty damn smitten when it comes to you, so like the lovesick fool he his, he decides to drag karasu to the mall with him to help him find a gift to impress you, of course, in a strange turn of events it turns out you're at the mall too, so whatever shall our poor loverboy do when he sees you? (or in which hiori "soccer genius" yo, is dumb enough to ask karasu of all people for girl advice, and karasu like the wonderful friend he is, tags along for the drama)

CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, i actually did research on a mall in kyoto so look at me go, might make a part three if i really feel like it

author's note: AKJFJFHAFHKJ TYYY ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET, i'm so glad you liked the first part and all of hiori + karasu's interactions, it really means a lot to me that you thought i did them justice <3

"Would getting her makeup be a good idea?"

Hiori asked his senior as he stood outside of COLOUR STUDIO, it was a cosmetics store that he heard the girls in his class talk about occasionally , you among them.

"Or would that be too intimate? Do ya' think she'd think I'm trying too hard? Maybe we should've just stuck to stationery...."

Hiori bombarded Karasu with questions as he sighed and stared up at the daunting illuminated white sign of the shop.

His friend groaned and grabbed the sleeve of Hiori's light blue sweat shirt, dragging him into the store where a few employees and clerks gave them slightly concerned looks.

"No, we're here now so we may as well get something."

Karasu chastised his younger teammate as he escorted him into the lip product aisle, in which Hiori found himself surrounded by many unfamiliar brands with colourful packaging.

"Ya' sure know yer' way around Karasu, have ya' been here before?"

"I've been to their branch over in Osaka, my sister makes me get 'er shit whenever she runs out..."

Karasu plucked a small box from the middle of the shelf, making a point to read the label and the brand to make sure it was the one he needed.

"So what are you gonna get yer' special girl?"

He asked teasingly, as his slender fingers clutched around the small container he was holding.

"I dunno actually...I was hoping you might help me?"

Hiori replied, chuckling nervously. He already knew that Karasu had an older sister, so must have some knowledge on these kinds of things.

His teammate seemed to deadpan at his friend's request, feigning a hurt expression at his friend's question.

"So I'm just a personal shopping assistant to ya'? I'm hurt Hiori."

Karasu gave him a playful pout before breaking into a mild fit of laughter after Hiori swatted his shoulder. The older boy promptly turned to one of the shelves and tossed Hiori a small pink tube of lip gloss.

"Get 'er this one, the quality is pretty good and it has a reasonable price."

Karasu said nonchalantly as his back was still turned, still browsing through some of the shelves. Hiori looked down at the product tube and read out the label to himself.

"Canmake Candy Wrap Lip..."

He muttered as he rotated the slender cylinder in his hand, reading the adhesive tag on it, he realized that Karasu was right, the price was within his budget, and the packaging was rather cute, not to mention how the tube itself contained a good amount of product.

He was about to thank his friend before realizing that Karasu was back at the front counter of the store, probably asking one of the employees for help with finding something.

Observing his surroundings, Hiori thought that browsing the shop a little bit more couldn't hurt, he still had plenty of funds to spare, more than enough to buy you something else.

Hiori continued to browse the current aisle he was in, allowing his fingers to brush against the array of cosmetics, all neatly sorted and arranged by brand, type, and flavour.

As he continued to run his hand along the rows upon rows of products, he stumbled across another area of products that caught his eye.

"Rohto Mentholatum Lip Balm..."

He read the mini card board sign that was clipped to the shelf as he observed the packaging. The one's that were currently stocked were said to be peach flavoured, the price seemed fairly reasonable as well.

Now, that he thought about it, having a lip balm on hand would be pretty practical, Hiori hated the feeling of his chapped lips. Plus, he deserved some kind of reward.

Hiori reached for one of the tubes, and right before he was about to take the lip balm from the shelf, his fingers brushed against a stranger's hand who was reaching for the exact some one.

On instinct, Hiori pulled away, muttering a quick apology. He turned to said stranger to say tell them that they could take it before realizing that said stranger wasn't a stranger at all.

"Oh! Hiori?"

Oh God, it was you

"H-hey!"

He managed to squeak out as you gave him a soft smile, he was surprised he hadn't made a complete fool of himself yet. Without realizing it, he had promptly shoved the tube of lip gloss he was going to buy for you into his back pocket.

"Hi! I didn't realize you were the shopping type Hiori."

You greeted him once more as you observed the hand that quickly pocketed the lip tube, you didn't press any further however.

"Oh, I'm not actually, I'm just getting a gift for someone special..."

Hiori chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He chastised himself for his wording, of course he had to say it like that, now if he gave you the gift you'd know for sure that he liked you.

But then again, that would spare him the humiliation of actually having to say it directly to your face, not that he ever wanted to confess in the first place...

"Someone...special? I didn't know you had a girlfriend Hiori..."

You trailed off, you sounded disappointed almost.

Hiori's face flushed at your words, he didn't mean to give you that idea. He could slowly feel heat creep up his neck as you continued to stare at him.

"Guess I shouldn't be that surprised..."

This time you were avoiding eye contact, you laughed somewhat bitterly. Were you jealous? Part of Hiori wanted to delude himself into thinking that, but another part of him wanted to die right there and then to avoid making a bigger fool out of himself.

"N-No I don't have a girlfriend actually!"

He assured you as his face turned an even brighter shade of red.

Where was Karasu when ya' needed him?

Suddenly, Hiori felt a light tap against his head. It was Karasu! His knight in shining armor, to save him from the train wreck of a conversation. His teammate was holding a small basket full of a few products, some mascara, eye liner, and a few skin cream tubs among them.

"I'm gonna go check out now, are ya' done yet?"

His friend asked as he rested his hand on Hiori's shoulder, Karasu looked up at you, realizing that there was company present.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You glanced between the two boys, you had recalled Karasu from Hiori's youth team, but you didn't know much about the older boy, but you had spotted him hanging around Hiori pretty frequently, so you assumed that they were fairly close.

"Oh, I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"

You questioned as your eyes flickered between the two of them, your head was tilted slightly in curiosity. You noticed Karasu's grip on Hiori's shoulder tighten ever so slightly at the sound of your question.

Hiori shook his head frantically, Karasu was probably giving you that same unsettling stare he always used whenever he was sizing someone up on you.

"No! Not at all! But I should get going right about now..."

He assured you that nothing was wrong, but he was already flustered enough, and there was no way Karasu would let him hear the end of whatever this incident should be labelled as.

"Well I'll see you school I guess!"

You flashed him another bright smile before turning to Karasu, and you gave the older boy a curt and quick bow.

"I'm (Y/N), Hiori's classmate, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Karasu was caught off guard by your sudden politeness, but he returned the favour.

"Karasu."

He stated quickly before taking Hiori's hand in his own, you seemed to take note of this.

You were about to walk away, so you waved to them before saying;

"Have fun on your date!"

Wait what?!

If Hiori's face was red before, it was basically crimson by now. The girl he liked not only thought he was taken, but now she thought he was into guys?!

"W-we're not!-He's not-I'm not-"

Karasu simply wheezed at the current predicament, clearly amused by your assumption of Hiori and him's relationship and by his younger friend's sudden flustered expression.

"I wish! Don't worry yer' pretty little head off though, he's still avaliable∼. He's quite taken with you at that too."

Karasu teased as he winked at Hiori, clearly taking sadistic pleasure in his friend's suffering.

"Karasu!"

Hiori whisper shouted as his friend dragged him out the store, still laughing as the cyan-haired boy continued his flustered protests which bore no fruit.

Well at least you knew how he felt now...

BONUS!

"This is why I told ya' to quit flirting with me like that! People are getting the wrong idea about us..."

"Aww but I can't have random girls stealing you away from me∼"

"Shut up ya' stupid crow!"

"Make me prodigy∼"

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ilys00ga · 8 months

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐓.𝟐

➞ pair: yoongi x f reader

➞ synopsis: where you meet him during your best friend's wedding. can a heart beat again after breaking to pieces?

➞ genre: best friend's brother!yoongi, actress!female reader, bookshop owner!yoongi, angst, kind of hurt/comfort, there's also some fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, slow burn.

➞ warnings: mentions of cheating, heartbreak, reader is going through some deep shit, failed past relationship, alcohol consumption (drink mindfully and responsibly (not me saying this when I don't even drink lmao)). this is PURE fiction!

➞ A/N: I wanna start by saying thank you to the one or two persons who requested another part of this fic. as I mentioned before, I had no intention or inspiration to write more of it, but I'm glad that yall forced me into coming up with this (jkjk). I don't KNOW how and what , but I WANT to write more parts of this. so, in the meantime, enjoy this and expect something to be posted in some few months lmao. I had to rewrite this a hundred times, I kind of don't wanna proofread it ever again 😭 so pls ignore any mistakes or questionable points (🙏🙏🙏!!!!!!). love <3

➞ tags: @viankiss + @parkjennykim + @acquiescence804

★ MASTERLIST.

Ethereal clouds blanketed the sky above the town, giving a gleam of light every now and then as they played a game of hide and seek with the sun. The crisp wind bit the skin of your face, carrying the scent of freshly wet concrete in every direction it went. the world was vivid in color around you and underneath your feet. As per always, nothing could beat the delight of walking down the street shortly after a round or two of rain.

as you make your way down the sidewalk, you reach a shopwindow displaying a collection of book goodness. The huge sign right at the top of the storefront read 'SNOOZE', and you wondered what kind of significance it carried for it to be the chosen name of the shop before you.

not wasting any more precious time, you decided to pay a visit and see if any book would call out your name as soon as it spots you, and lure you closer to fan its pages and listen to their story.

The first thing that welcomed you as soon as you walked into the place was a radiating warmth. the air was sweet-scented with a mix of wood, paper, new and old books, multiple perfumes and a mouth watering smell of both coffee and tea. It was almost too overwhelming, but the atmosphere soaked your heart with so much comfort almost immediately that it left you speechless.

The shop was on two floors. The first one was largely specious. Every wall was loaded up with books neatly lined up from top to bottom, and planted everywhere were tables presenting neatly organized books. Some people were scattered around, talking in hushed voices or just silently browsing. Others you could see chilling on the second floor, where a coffee bar was. It was not as spacious as the one underneath, but it was commodious enough for some extra small couches and chairs here and there.

you started walking around the lovely aisles, taking your time as you scanned through them. your finger ran down spines, and your nose inhaled the sweet, dearly loved smell of paper books in.

At the heart of your wandering, piano notes rode the air inside the shop, rushing as they slipped between shelves and making their way to your ears. it tugged a smile on your face, the smooth melody that sounded somewhat familiar, and you stalked its source with sheer curiosity.

There, when you finally made it, you found the man you met at your best friend’s wedding a couple of months earlier, seated on the piano bench, focused. Yoongi was his name. Yoongi, Soyoon’s older brother, who walked around with a box of UNO cards in his pocket. such a memorable person.

He looked slightly different than the last (fist and only) time you saw him, though. His hair was shorter, pushed back with a pair of sunglasses resting on his head. He also had sidecuts, and some ear piercings. totally different from the other day.

perhaps the "performance" went on for about two minutes more, u couldn't tell, but soon he had his hands clasped on his lap and smiled, satisfied. Before you could walk away, Yoongi turned and his eyes immediately fell on you. ‘oh’, he whispered as his eyes widened in surprise, and you cracked a faint smile.

"didn't expect to see you again." he spoke first, standing up and approaching you.

"Me neither. I was losing hope in playing another round of UNO with you again."

"Well, about that.." scratching the back of his head, he bit his lip sheepishly and confessed, "I kept a box in my pocket for days but then lost track and didn’t think we’d see each other again.."

"Too bad I can't beat you today.." you scrunched your nose teasingly.

"we can play another time?" he suggested, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark pants and relaxing his board shoulders.

"Sure, why not." you averted your eyes from his for a moment before meeting them again with a small smile.

Neither of you said anything for a short moment. it wasn't exactly awkward—or at least not from your end—in fact, something deep inside kept eagerly nagging, pushing you to say something and keep pulling strings of conversation from the man before you. so, you decided to comply and chat up with a hint of hesitance hanging from your teeth, "You work here?"

"oh, yeah. with a friend of mine." he answered, "is there anything specific you'd like?"

"no, I’d just discovered the place so I was walking around."

"I see… coffee? or do you prefer tea?"

"Coffee is good."

"Alright, come with me." He led you upstairs, told you to take a seat, and started preparing two cups for the both of you. Truthfully speaking, the cozyness of the store caught you off guard. really. It didn't feel like a shop, no, it felt like a private reading space in the comfort of your own house. For a moment, you felt sad as you wondered whether it was a painfully underrated place or not. It would've been such a shame if a place like that one wasn't appreciated enough, you thought.

a stretched out arm placed a cup in front of you. looking up, you were reminded of his presence once again.

"there you go," he said and sat across from you.

"How's the situation here?" you inquired, fingers hugging the warm mug between your hands.

"pretty good. We started recently, but it's already going well."

"I see." you nodded your head and took a sip, "Associating readers and bookworms all day must be nice."

"It's fun, sometimes." he hummed, "Are you one?"

"a bookworm? not really, no. I mean, I do love reading but I'm almost always busy filming so.."

"filming…?"

"oh, yeah. I'm an actress. a very not well known one, at that." you chuckled.

"That's cool." you could read elements of genuine interest off of his expression. you weren’t sure why, but it made you smile.

"you think so?" you asked.

"Of course I do. acting has always been interesting to me."

The two of you exchanged bits of comments and opinions for a few more minutes. it wasn't until you glanced down at your wrist watch that you realized it was time for you to leave.

"But you haven't picked a book yet," he insisted when you got up and bid your goodbyes.

"there were too many good ones, I really couldn't choose."

"Wait, come with me." you trailed along behind him as he headed downstairs, until he came to a halt and showed you a tall bookcase. written on the very top was a big “BLIND DATE WITH A BOOK”. Each one of the books in it was wrapped in the same gray paperwrap and had words scribbled on it. after a quick glance, you could tell that they were short anonymous letters.

"People drop mystery books here all the time. see if you find something that stirs your interest?" Yoongi proposed.

Doing as he said, you went through the notes, reading each one carefully, until one grabbed your attention.

“for the mourning soul,

harried and frayed at the edges,

this is a hug from me to you.”

It read.

“Good choice.” somewhere to your left, you could hear Yoongi softly muttering.

"baby, please listen to me!" he pleaded, hand tightening around your arm to prevent you from walking away.

"What more do you have to say? I saw everything with my own eyes!" your voice cracked as you held a sob in, trying so hard to hold yourself together and not break down in front of the man that just broke your heart with no care.

"it's not what it looks like! I love you, why'd you think I would lie to you?!"

and all of a sudden, every word known to man vanished from the top of your tongue. your brain went blank, your face frozen. all you could muster was a faint "...you.."

“Cut!” the director’s voice rang out and sliced its way through the scene.

Everyone on set looked at you with knitted brows as he walked up to you, pulling you aside. you shift your weight from one foot to the other, mentally preparing yourself for whatever remark he was intending to deliver your way.

“__, we’ve done intense scenes like this one before. I know you can do better.” he crossed his arms, eyebrows inching closer to each other as he spoke.

“I'm sorry, sir. it's just so ha-"

“How hard can it be to express and demystify being cheated on? have you never been cheated on before? just conjure that picture up, then translate and convey it. it’s not that hard.” he rolled his eyes and instructed with a sharp tone. it made your stomach twist again and you felt sick, almost as though those pair of strict eyes grew an arm and bunched you right in the chest, hence your aching bottom lip as you chewed at it and looked down at your feet.

and with a timid voice, you answered, “I know, I'm sorry, I will try my best.”

“right.” was all he muttered before he walked away, announcing a ten minutes long break to the whole crew.

it took everything within you not to walk up to him and scream at his face until your throat bled and burned with an old rage. you really wanted to do that, but you didn’t. you couldn't. so you just stood there and watched the room move like nothing had been said.

A guy walked in. He hastened to reach the director and whispered something in his ear. another guy came up and handed you a cup of coffee. you thanked him and put your mind to the drink, savoring its bitterness as it washed every corner of your mouth.

some minutes later, your phone beeped with an incoming message:

from Saera <3: There’s something i think you should know. Let's meet up when you’re done.

Planning it all step by step was what the universe had done. the director suddenly called it a wrap, and the room was moving quicker than before.

“Here’s your bottle, miss.” a blond bartender said with a sweet grin on his face. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a necklace sitting comfortably between the partially exposed pecks of his chest—a sight you were sure you didn’t see a few minutes ago since the first few buttons of his shirt were definitely not unbuttoned.

You muttered a quiet ‘thank you’ and opened the bottle of your favorite alcoholic drink, filling the empty glass you were clutching with the other hand and taking a decent sip. it burnt as it washed down the walls of your throat, to your chest and spread all over your system.

“Oof, I really needed that.” hissing, you threw your head backward.

Over the past couple of months, that bar came to be a comfort zone for you. when the emotions you tenderly carried in the palms of your hands overflowed and raced down your arms, reaching your elbows to then drip like heavy raindrops by your feet on the floor, you rushed your way to this pub to pat it dry.

Maybe it was the coziness of its vintage interior decor presented to the visiting eye that pulled you in. or the quiet atmosphere that lured every presence that steps into the place with curious eyes, welcoming it with a warm embrace and a gentle smile. or the hushed voices of customers spending their time in various of ways and feelings, one sitting alone and sipping on a huge glass of beer with a grim face, another sitting lifelessly with barely opened eyes and a bunch of empty glasses stacked up on the table before them, a couple with tinted cheeks sharing whispered love between each other and some elderly people just hanging out here and there.

The cocky bartender was somehow always on shift whenever you showed up. He seemed to love shamelessly hitting on you with that large smile of his, but Instead of paying him any attention, you fix your eyes on the stacked up bottles and glasses behind him, shining with reflections of soft yellow, and politely smile back every single time. That didn't seem to wind him up, though.

A thick steam of thoughts fogged your mind up as you sat on one of the high red stools lined up at the counter, facing the room with your back and consuming one glass after another.

A soft knock on the wooden counter to your right pulled you out of your wandering thoughts. your back stiffened and your head snapped up. Then you saw him, once again, Yoongi smiling down at you, and he ever so softly said, "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

He didn't have his sunglasses above his head, you noticed. his fringe fell on his forehead, and he didn't have the piercings on, you noticed that too. Amber light bulbs beamed gold on his pale skin, going perfectly right with the black silk dress shirt he was wearing.

"Are you stalking me?" you said with a thick, slurred voice.

he tilted his head, still smiling, and pointed, "this bar is two blacks away from the bookshop. I like to come here often."

you didn't say anything further—maybe it was just the alcohol, or maybe it was something you couldn't confidently put your finger on, but there was a voice that kept praising his face in the back of your head and you just sat there, listening, observing, red-cheeked, droopy-eyed, motionless.

Yoongi nodded towards the seat right next to yours and muttered, “can i?”

"o-of course!" you spat an answer out, pressing your eyes shut and facing away from him. maybe drinking too much wasn't the best idea that night. or maybe it was that you should've paid more attention and recognized the very familiar street beforehand? either way, you felt too unstable to function in front of another human being at that moment.

"You look troubled." was the first thing he said after the batista had come, served him the drink he ordered and left again.

"ah… just tired."

The man didn't say anything for a while. The frown he immediately noticed on your face when he spotted you just earlier ran a hundred questions in his brain, however, at the very tip of his tongue laid a question he really wanted to voice out ever since the two of you had met at the bookstore, but he just couldn't.

After giving it some thought, he gathered some strength and decided to just ask his concern away.

“that thing you told me about the other day,” he started, carefully picking his words, and you tried to listen as attentively as your fogged up mind could, "does it still hurt?”

At first, you couldn't understand what he was referring to exactly, not until you thought back on the two times you two had met before.

he watched your pointer finger, the one you'd been gliding along the rim of your glass freeze. He didn’t speak, neither did you. it seemed like neither of you was breathing for a few seconds. The air in the room was getting colder, and so were the tips of your fingers as they hung above and barely touched the rim.

Gulping the saliva that gathered on top of your tongue, you contemplated whether you should provide an answer to his question or just ignore it like it was never asked at all. This was a question no one had ever asked you since the entire cheating situation had happened. it was always ‘are you okay?' or ‘Did you move on?’. something of the sort. Not once did anyone wonder whether it still stinged your heart every time the image of your ex popped up before your eyes or not. not once did anyone ask if the scene still haunted you after all these months or not.

But it’s not like you were mad or pointing accusatory fingers at anybody. the pain was yours, and only you shall bask and drown in it. only you shall figure out how the fuck to get the hell out of that dark pit and heal from it.

It was just something that you yourself were too caught up in the hurricane of your grief and bitterness to even ask your own self, ‘does it really still hurt?’, ‘Are you getting any better?’, 'are you still stuck?', 'what if you're stuck there forever?'

It took a long moment before you could manage a proper reply to that stirring query. until you uttered a small ‘he died’ loud enough for him to hear.

From the corner of your eyes, you could see him lifting his head, yet he remained silent. you rawly added, "the asshole died in a car accident like nothing had happened at all... tell me," you paused to lift your tremling hand and rest its palm over your chest, right where you heart was beating fast, " how should I mend what’s been ruptured in here now..? Why is it even still hurting..? Why am I mad..? I don't understand. Do you..? I…”

Yoongi took his time to answer, humming then absent-mindedly nodding his head before speaking again, “it takes some time.”

“how do you know that?” you inquired again, lifting your head to have a look at his side profile.

“I know how it feels to be abandoned by someone so special, at the very least.”

“you got dumped?” you blurted.

He let out a breathy scoff, lightly scratching at the skin under his left eye with flushed cheeks.

“did you really have to say it that way?” he hissed playfully and wet his lower lip, eyes pinned on yours, “but yes, my ex left me to chase after her dreams.”

somewhere deep in those dark orbs, you could catch a glimpse of something sorrowful, but it quickly vanished as he attempted to smile and then looked away.

“I guess we’re both losers, then.” you downed the three quarters full glass in one draft. The room was spinning. you were feeling gradually more light-headed.

“We are not losers just because we got our hearts broken.” Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t sound that buzzed yet. his voice got deeper, and his words stood steady the more he talked.

“Then what are we? If not a loser, then what does being cheated on or abandoned for some worldly goal make you?" tears started welling up from deep inside, but even in your dizzy state, you couldn't let them out. not at that moment, not with Yoongi some inches away from you. you gulped, and with a trembling voice, you muttered, "being stuck in one square while they move on with their lives and build castles for themselves, then have the audacity to die like nothing had happened at all, what does that make you?”

“a lover. being betrayed by a loved one despite all the unconditional love you offered makes you somebody who loves so sincerely. a wretched lover."

you allow his words to set in, analyzing them briefly and pondering before letting a snort out.

“That's even worse.” you said, bitterly.

Yoongi smiled, equally bitter as you, "turns out we're actually more similar than I had thought."

a ‘do you need anything else, dear?’ popped your little bubble up when the bartender showed up again, not once glancing at the man sitting right next to you as he addressed all of his attention towards you.

“no, we’re leaving.” came a sharp answer from Yoongi, and when you glanced at him you saw that his face held a stiff expression, one that was very different from the wide smile and crinkly eyes it was displaying some minutes ago.

The bartender turned his head towards him with a flat smile, then excused himself to serve some new customers.

“we’re leaving?” you tilted your head with furrowed eyes in confusion.

“yeah. you look gone as hell, and it’s getting late.” he started getting up, “i’ll give you a ride.”

“That sounds about right.” absently nodding your head, you stood up as well, and he guided you out of the building.

The door to your flat beeped once automatically unlocked, and just as you stepped in, you were faced with Saera. she stood there with her hands on her hips, eyeing your drunken state, unsatisfied. her shoulders lowered, and her brows rose as soon as she caught sight of Yoongi standing right behind you, then said: “you two..”

Yoongi began explaining the situation briefly to her, scratching the back of his neck as he stuttered on his words and blushed.

“she's not that wasted. All is good. Just put her to bed.” he finished his summary and hummed, satisfied with himself.

Before Saera could say anything, you grumbled an “I can take care of myself just fine.” and walked up to your room with unsteady steps, waving them off.

“and I'll go.” Yoongi mumbled, quickly walking out with a ghost of faint red still remaining on his plump, milky cheeks.

#bts yoongi #yoongi #bts #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts scenarios #min yoongi #yoongi angst #suga fluff #suga angst #strangers to friends #friends to lovers #bts fic #suga fic

209 notes · View notes

pedantic-poison · 1 year

Text

golden | MS47

GIF by brawn-gp

pairing: black cat gf! fem reader x golden retriever bf! mick schumacher

warnings: fluff! and also a brief but very explicit mention of oral (f receiving) and p in v (oops lol)

requested: yes!

word count: 0.9k

author's note: second time posting this because the first time it didn't show up in the tags at all so thanks for that tumblr! anyways yes this IS so extremely inspired by the song daylight by taylor swift not that anyone asked but the second i read the request i couldn't help it

you'd met at a party, where you'd been standing quietly in a corner, drink in your hand, content to just mind your business without talking to anyone until you'd been there long enough that you wouldn't feel bad leaving

it was some friend's birthday, not close enough that you had to spend most of the night with them, but you like them enough to make an appearance, even though you hated parties

Mick, golden boy that he is, was the center of attention without really meaning to be

talking to everyone like they were an old friend he'd known for years, and at some point he looked up and realized that you were the only person in the room who he hadn't spoken to

he didn't even know your name, actually

and he couldn't help himself, he was just too curious, and he thought you were so gorgeous, he figured it was better to just go talk to you than to stare at you with heart eyes from across the room

Mick is such a sunshine boy that even when other people sometimes find you a little standoffish, when he first saw you, he just adored you right away

wasn't intimidated by you at all he was just completely enamored

initially, you were a little overwhelmed by him, kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop and show that it was an act

how sweet he was, how kind, how considerate, the way he would listen to you so intently, like the moment you opened your mouth to finally speak the rest of the world faded away

you just couldn't believe that he was being genuine, that he really cared about you that way

but the look on his face when he's watching you is so earnest

he didn't mind that at first you weren't very talkative, or that it took a little while for you to really trust that his affection for you was real

besides, he can talk enough for the both of you anyways

you finally had to confront just how much you cared about him because of the shit show with Haas

more than once Mick had to talk you down from personally fighting G*nter on his behalf

and once you finally let those walls down and let him in? Mick was stuck to you like glue

he'd come home, or back to your shared hotel room, after a long day during race weekends and just collapse onto you, laying his head on your chest while you'd scratch his head or his back

he fell asleep like that, on top of you, more than a few times

sometimes you weren't really sure what to do or say, but Mick would just assure you that you were making him feel better, that you were doing everything right, even when he was the one who needed comfort

and when you have a bad day at work or school?

that man pampers you like a princess

he literally will not let you do ANYTHING for yourself

and you don't even have to tell him that you had a rough day, he can just see it in your face the moment you walk through the door

he gives you these mini lectures about asking for help when you need it, reminding you that you help him when he has a tough time, and that it's only fair for him to get to return the favor

if you ever try to tell him that he's already so sweet to you, all the time, he won't hear it

just ushers you towards the couch or bed with your favorite blanket in hand

he'll have you lie back against his chest, nestled in between his legs, so he can wrap his arms around you and hold you to him, tight and comforting

whispering sweet nothings into your ear, planting kisses on the top of your head

bubble baths, your favorite foods and shows, holding your book in front of your face for you so your arms don't get tired, kissing the back of your neck or your shoulder each time he turns the page

supporting your body with his as he finger fucks you until you're shaking, caging you in with those big, buff arms and his warm body, your legs draped over his so he can keep them open for him, surrounding you and overwhelming all of your senses, so all you can feel or think of is him, his free hand roaming your body, massaging your tits and reaching up to cradle your throat so he can tilt your head back to give him better access

or making you ride his face so you can make yourself feel good, until you've cum so many times and so hard that you can barely see straight, and then fucking you into the mattress, deep and slow, whispering words of praise about how you're doing so well for him, how you feel so good, looking so pretty while you take his cock like a good girl

when you're overthinking and can't stop worrying about something, and his usual pampering tricks don't work, he'll just fuck you dumb, make you go mindless with pleasure so that you can't think period

he hates having to be away from you for race weekends, even now that he's with mercedes and isn't fighting for his life every weekend

even when you're both busy, he'll always manage to make time for you, dropping in and surprising you, even if it's only for a few days before he's off to the next track

he's also completely immune to any of your usual attempts at self-sabotage

he doesn't let you lash out at him or start fights or have huge blow out arguments

he just wants to give you the whole world

and you just want him

because his love isn't black and white, or burning red

it's golden

like daylight

573 notes · View notes

meo-on-prairie · 1 year

Text

No Body, No Crime

Satosugu x reader

Prompt: You know in your soul that he did it, but there are no ways for you to prove a feeling. But you can play this game he started, and you won’t give up until the day he dies.

Words count: 6.3k

Tags: Satosugu x reader established, Fluff, angst, murder, Slightly suggestive, crime. TW: death, murder, dismemberment, disturbing actions, infidelity, manipulation, and revenge mdni.

Rambling: I was on the verge of tears when I finished this fic, idek if I like it anymore lmao, so if you don't like it, idk what to tell you lmao. I honestly don’t know what to tag this fic as. Just like beware that it’s inspired by: “no body, no crime” by Taylor Swift (of course), The Glory K-drama, and the countless murder podcast I listen to while driving. I hope yall enjoy.

/////////

Odd. Shoko is late, 2 hours late to be exact. She’s not exactly the most punctual person you know but she has never been this late. Especially not on the monthly dinner with you, Suguru, and Satoru. After graduating college together, the 4 of you have made a point to have dinner together at least once a month.

This monthly dinner is something none of you would ever miss. All of you have been making it work for years, through the career changes, through your shitty ex-relationship, through the time when you were confused about how you feel toward Satoru and Suguru. Even after Shoko decided to get married to this Neonatologist named Andrew she met at the hospital she works at, the 4 of you still keep up the routine.

The three of you took turns calling her the past 2 hours and nothing. Straight to voicemail. Not even a text saying she can’t make it today and to reschedule. Odd. you can’t get rid of this nauseating feeling in your stomach.

“Let’s go” you stand up abruptly and begin to walk out of the restaurant toward the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” Satoru asked. Both him and Suguru hurried after you. Satoru unlocked the car, and Suguru opened the door for you to get in. Ever since you joined the relationship, they made a point to never let you drive or touch the car door, ‘you’re our treasure, you will be treated like one’.

“I want to drop by Shoko’s place, maybe she’s got tired from her night shift and overslept or something, I don't know, I just want to make sure nothing is wrong.” You’re panicking, they can see that. During college, if Satoru and Suguru were attached by the hips, you and Shoko were never one without the other. You can’t simply just shake off this anxiety you feel when it comes to your best friend.

They nodded and got into the front seats. They don’t question you. They know how much Shoko means to you, not to mention she’s their friend too. Satoru drives the three of you to Shoko’s place while Suguru tries to calm your anxiety.

“It’s okay, Sweet. You’re probably right about her being deep asleep due to her night shift. She seems pretty stressed and tired lately from her text.” Suguru reasoned.

Satoru gives a slight nod and adds, “Her phone could be dead, and she missed the alarm that would wake her up for our dinner”.

“Yeah… I hope you’re right.” You feel slightly better from the reasonable and likely scenarios they proposed. Still, it couldn't get rid of this sinking feeling you feel in your stomach..

After a short drive, you three reach Shoko’s house. You notice that her husband's truck is in front of the driveway, the tires are brand new, it looks like he just got them replaced today. Odd. Very rarely do people replace all their tires at once. You chalk it up to just coincidence. You walk toward her door and ring the doorbell, Andrew answers the door.

“Hey man, is Shoko home? She was supposed to meet us for dinner around 2 hours ago.” Satoru greeted

“No. She’s not home. I don't know where she is.” Andrew answered abruptly.

“Well, did something happen? Did some emergency come up with her family? She’s your wife, out of everyone she would at least tell you where she is.” Suguru pressed him for more information. It doesn’t make sense for him to not know where his wife is at this hour.

“I told you! I don’t know where she is! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a night shift to get ready for.” With that, Andrew slammed the door to your faces.

Odd. He sounded agitated, and anxious. Like he’s trying to hide something… deny something. Your whole body is shaken in fear with the thoughts of the worst. Nothing makes sense. Shoko would never just vanish without telling anyone. She literally messaged the group chat yesterday saying she’ll see you three at dinner and she has something to tell you all. Nothing makes sense.

Satoru noticed how pale your face had gone and immediately pulled you in for a hug, “It’s going to be okay, Love. She’s going to be okay. We’ll wait till tomorrow and see if she’ll contact us. Then we’ll figure out what to do from there okay?” he said in a hush tone.

“Everything is going to be okay, Sweet. We’ll figure it out together.” Suguru gives your temple a long kiss as he runs his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion.

The three of you drove home in silence. You didn’t dare to leave your phone for one second, you went to sleep with your phone unmuted. Suguru and Satoru make sure at least one of them is by your side at all times. They worry about Shoko too, but they know you need them to be there and keep you grounded. They make sure to hold you extra close that night, you fall asleep in their comforting arms, hoping for the best, but the sinking feeling makes you expect the worst.

/////////

The worst did come. At 6AM, 2 days since you last heard from Shoko, you were woken up by the loud banging on your door.

You groggily lift up the two arms that’s trapping you in bed, then reposition their arm so your boyfriends can cuddle each other instead, you gently close the bedroom door behind you. You walk toward the front door, silently cursing whoever knocked on your door at this crack of dawn hour. When you opened the door, your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Good morning. We recently got a missing person report on Miss Shoko from her husband. Is it okay if we come in to ask you a few questions that could be helpful toward our investigation?” One of the two police officers standing outside your door politely requested.

“Yes…” you answer barely above a whisper, open the door wider for the officers to come in, you call out for Satoru and Suguru for them to wake up and come down to the living room. You lead the officers toward the living room and invite them to sit while you get them water and wait for your boyfriends to come down.

You don't remember much after that. It felt as if time had stopped and the world was crumbling apart. Satoru and Suguru answer the majority of the question, you seem to only be able to answer in ‘yes’ and ‘no’ when the officers specifically address you. You were on autopilot. Your best friend, missing without a trace. Not a single hint on whether she’s dead or alive.

You closed the door after the officers. The moment you hear the ‘click’ of the lock, your legs give out and tears begin to fall from your eyes. You sob uncontrollably, gasping for air. Your shoulders shake violently. This can’t be real. No. you refuse to believe this is reality. Shoko, the person you just talked to on the phone 2 days ago, vanished completely leaving no trace behind.

Satoru and Suguru immediately rush to your side, they wrap their arms around you and hold you tight. They place soft kisses all over you and rub your back in a soothing motion.

“I promise you, Sweet. I’ll make sure to find her for us, okay?” Suguru whispered. Never in a million years did Suguru think he would ever have to find his own missing friend as a detective.

You, Satoru, and Suguru sat there, right in front of the door for hours. Just sitting in each other's embrace and comfort as you three mourn your friend, who you do not know is dead or alive.

/////////

After crying to the point your body can no longer produce anymore tears. You get started on breakfast. Well, not you, you’re too out of it for anything, Suguru is the one cooking, you tried to set up the table but Satoru just guide you to the table and told you to not worry about it.

With nothing to do, you decide to scroll through old messages between you and Shoko. Most of them are about how useless her husband is.

“He can’t even wash the dishes that he used! He ate from them, and then just left them in the sink!”

“This fucker think the laundry magically fold itself! Oh god I want to kill him...” this one makes you giggle a little.

“He said he’s going to work but the nurse just called me cuz they couldn’t reach him and there’s a car accident with a baby in it, where the fuck is he?”

“I just found a big purchase for an expensive bracelet, a month ago in our joint account, he said he thought I bought it. lol maybe he’s cheating on me.” This one caught your attention. It was from 3 weeks ago, you thought Shoko was just joking, you didn’t think too much of it since Shoko said it so casually, unlike the other times she vented about her husband.

No. No. No. No. It can’t be. But the brand new tires, 4 of them, his attitude and response, this message that Shoko sent to you. God, you feel like throwing up.

“He did it…” you breathe out

“What was that, Love?”

“He did it! Andrew killed her! He killed Shoko!” you scream out, throwing your phone across the table so they can see the text message.

“I know he did it! All 4 of his tires are brand new and his attitude when we ask where she was and- and this text from Shoko, he killed her!” Your speech becomes frantic as you explain your reasoning. You rest your head on your hands, trying to just process it all.

Satoru’s eyes widen as they read Shoko’s text. He did it. Satoru feels his stomach sinking as he connects the dots. Everything is as you say, it all points to Shoko’s husband as the culprit. Andrew killed Shoko.

“But we have no proof, until we can find evidence or Shoko’s body, he is innocent” Suguru pointed out. Coming around to the table with the french toasts he was making for breakfast. He placed 2 on your plate. You push your plate away, not feeling like eating with everything you have to take in. Suguru grabs your hand and places a kiss on your finger to make you look at him.

“Sweet, you need to eat, at least half, you’ll only feel worse if you don’t eat. We’ll think about this some more after breakfast okay?” Suguru tries to reason with you. He understands how distress you're feeling right now. He looks over at Satoru, his boyfriend's grip on your phone is making his hand turn white.

Suguru walks over to Satoru, he wraps his arm around Satoru, hugging him tightly from behind to snap him out of it, he then takes your phone away from Satoru’s hand. “You too, ‘Toru, let’s eat first, we’ll figure out what to do after, okay?”

If you and Satoru didn’t know Suguru like part of your soul, you would mistake his calmness for indifference. But that couldn’t be farther from the truth, Suguru is like the calm before the storm, you won’t notice his anger until after it’s all said and done.

You three eat in silence. Suguru is an amazing cook, the french toasts are far from being mediocre. Yet, none of you seem to find the appetite to eat with all the information you need to process.

After breakfast, you tell the boys you’ll clean up and wash the dishes since they cook and set up. Though they agree to not argue with you about it, they end up helping you with washing the dishes anyway.

“What do you want to do, Sweet?” Suguru decided to be the one to talk about the issues that have been weighing yours and their minds.

“I’m not sure, Suguru. There is nothing I can do but hope that they'll be able to find some evidence, or at least her whereabouts.” you said softly, defeatedly. There is truly nothing you can do in this situation.

“Alright then, I’ll ask my boss to put me on the case. Just like I promised you.” Suguru smiled at you.

You feel a pair of arms snake around your torso. Satoru gave Suguru a peck on the lips then rested his head on your shoulder, “We’ll find her, Love. We’ll use whatever means we have and find her.”

You can’t help but smile at their words. Sometimes you ask yourself how you are so lucky to find 2 of your soulmates. You’re so incredibly lucky to be able to love and be loved by them. They make the fickleness of life much easier to navigate. Despite your storm of emotions due to Shoko’s disappearance, you find yourself still able to let go and feel grounded around them. They’re your rocks. You trust their words. You trust them.

/////////

Everything is easier said than done. It has been 6 months since Shoko’s disappearance. Suguru did become head detective of the case just like he promised, but every lead he got resulted in a deadend. At this point the case is considered cold, but Suguru refuses to let it go and continues to investigate by himself. Satoru used his company’s along with his own influence to get the case into headlines in the media, in hope that someone would be able to give Suguru more intel to work with. Satoru even hired someone to spy on Andrew and report back to him once a week.

But with all the walls you've been facing, you’re starting to gaslight yourself into thinking that Andrew is actually innocent, and your intuition is just plain wrong. That is, until the spy on Andrew sent Satoru the weekly report while the three of you were cuddling on the couch watching Barbie.

When Satoru’s phone rings, you don't bother pausing the movie, thinking it’s just gonna be mundane like the other reports the past 6 months. Satoru got up to grab his phone along with some water from the kitchen. His knuckles turn white when he sees what the spy sent him.

“Suguru, Love, you guys need to see this.” Satoru calls out to you two with gritted teeth.

You pause the movie and quickly go to the kitchen, Suguru following you.

“What’s wrong?” Suguru before you could.

“The rat bastard actually brought home his mistress.” Satoru hands you the phone, he’s fuming now, his other hand balled up tightly. Suguru immediately notices and takes Satoru’s hand, holding onto it so Satoru won’t dig his nails into his palm and hurt himself.

You look at the pictures on Satoru’s phone. Andrew holding hands with the mistress. Them carrying boxes from his truck. Her wearing Shoko’s favorite designer dress, a silver bracelet on her left hand. They were going out for dinner. Bastards.

You can feel your gut burn, your heart aching, and tears of anger threaten to spill from your eyes. Suguru’s face is grim, his hand squeezing Satoru just as hard as Satoru squeezing his. All the 3 of you can see is red. Boiling pit of lava in your stomachs. This nuclear waste of a human, not only killed your best friend, but brought his mistress into the house that your best friend bought, let his mistress wear your best friend’s favorite dress, and slept with his mistress in your best friend’s bed.

“I’m going to kill him.” Satoru said with conviction.

“No.” Your tone is scarily calm, “simply killing him won’t be enough.”

Suguru grabs your hand without letting go of Satoru’s hand, brings it to his lips and places a gentle kiss. “What are you thinking, Sweet? We’re ready to be your executioner.”

Satoru nodded in agreement. The red in their eyes can’t be missed. They’re just as furious as you are.

Looking into their resolute gazes, you pulled both Satoru and Suguru into an embrace. They return your feelings by wrapping their arms around you. You always know this, but now more than ever, you truly believe that even if the entire world were to condemn you, these two would burn the world down for you; and so would you for them.

You all know in your souls that he did it, but there are no ways for you to prove a feeling. But you can play this game he started, and you won’t give up until the day he dies. Together with your executioners, You will make the two rats pay for their action.

/////////

Good thing your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, is filthy rich. The private spy he hired gives you a lot of information about the mistress. Her name is Maruka, she’s 10 years younger than Andrew, clearly a sugar-baby. She used to work as a cosmetologist but quitted around 3 months ago. From the words of the people that used to be in her life, her biggest love is money. They can’t fault her for it though, she was one of those orphan kids that was passed around in the foster system, she grew up with her whole life stuffed inside a single garbage bag.

You pitied her life for a bit. Thinking maybe she’s just an innocent bystander that also got rope into Andrew’s scheme. Unfortunately, giving people the benefit of the doubt hasn't been working out for you lately.

You first interact with her at the luxury spa she often frequent after moving in with Andrew. You have the spy let you know when she’s going to the spa so you can join and strike up a friendship with her. When you spot her entering the spa’s sauna, you quickly prepare yourself while reciting the script you have in your head.

You enter the sauna, sit directly in front of Maruka. You wait for a few minutes before striking up a conversation.

“Hi, I’m Ina, do you go to his spa often? I haven’t seen you around before.” You lied, a fake name in case she recognizes your real one.

“I’m Maruka, and yeah, I’m pretty new to this spa. It's been getting pretty serious between me and my boyfriend recently, I even moved in with him so I want to take care of myself for him.” she giggles.

“Aww, that’s cute. How did you meet?” Your inquiries.

“Oh we met at a bar, he bought me a drink and we started talking and we just hit it off, he was so charming.”

“You must be very happy then.” you give her a slight smile, “the way you talk about him, it seem like your relationship is full of sunshine and flower”

“You would think so, but unfortunately he had a wife, so we have to date in secret. But he promised me that he would divorce her for me” she laughs. That pisses you off but you hold down your anger.

“You said you moved in recently, did he finally divorce his wife recently?”

“Oh. My. God. That’s the best part. She disappeared! 6 months ago! She might be dead for all we know so he gets to keep the fancy house. It’s as if we’re destined to be and god was helping us out!” you squeal in excitement.

If Suguru and Satoru were here, they would nominate you for the Oscar for how well you’re able to hold back your anger and continue to be friendly with this piece of work. This shameless woman considers someone’s misfortune as her blessing. Disgusting.

“Wow, that’s impressively lucky, maybe you are being watched over by god.” you said in feint amazement. “We should grab lunch together, you’re fun to talk to, it'll be on me. And I’ll bring you to a nice place where we can test your blessing”

She giggled in happiness, “Sure!”.

You know she would agree as soon as you invite her, this is a luxury spa after all, only those with money and membership can enter. She won’t let go of an opportunity to form connections with someone who is wealthy enough to be in this spa.

/////////

Just as you proposed, you bring her to the most expensive restaurant in town, you have to show your wealth (by using Satoru’s card) so she would want to stick to you even closer. Afterward you bring her to Toji’s horse racing ring.

Toji used to be Shoko’s and Suguru’s smoke and drink buddy in college. He wasn’t necessarily close to your group, but you consider each other friends. So when you come asking him for a favor to avenge Shoko, along with the money to reimburse him. He told you to keep the money and to use his horse racing ring however you please.

“Where are we?” Maruka asked in confusion.

“A horse racing ring, owned by my friend, you should place some bet to test out your blessing.” you giggle.

“If you lose, the ring will only take half of what you bet. But if you win, you’ll win twice the amount you bet, and the ring will only take 10% of what you win. It’s a win-win scenario for everyone. People who play will gain more than they lose, and the ring gains a small revenue to keep it going.” You entice her further.

“Oh, I have never placed a bet before…” She hesitated a little, but clearly still interested.

“Here,” you hand her a slip of paper “Just write down your name, the amount you're betting, and the number on the horse you think will win, then put it in that box at the front.”

She takes the slip, she looks at it, contemplating for a moment. She then put down her name, $50, and horse number 3. She places it into the box at the front and you nod at the worker standing next to it, giving him the signal.

“Now what?” she ask nervously

“Now we watch!”

You two sit down in one of the seats in the VIP area. You glance at her, she’s anxious, first time gamblers always feel anxious at their first bet, but this adrenaline is what keeps them hooked. You watch as the horses race each other. Number 3 won. You watch as Maruka jumps up in joy and you smile at her.

“Would you look at that! You truly are blessed!” You feint excitement, hyping her up even more. This is the adrenaline you want her to feel, the high you want her to feel.

“Oh my gosh oh my gosh!! Ina!! I won!!” she said excitedly

“Yes you did! You're now $90 richer.” you smile, handing her another slip of paper “Want to go again?”

She took the paper from your hand immediately without hesitation this time. She excitedly wrote down her next bet again, $200 this time. You can’t help the grin being formed on your face. You got her hook, line, and sinker.

/////////

Good thing that your other boyfriend, Getou Suguru, is a famous detective. He knows the in and out of the law well, knows what evidence is crucial and what is useless. He’s the person that composes files on Maruka and Andrew that would help with your plan. In fact, Suguru is in his office filing out the new updates and pictures Satoru’s spy sent him.

You walk into his office to see him sitting at his desk with papers and pictures all over the table. You slide your hands on his shoulders and give him a small massage, you kiss his temple then rest your head on his shoulder.

“I love you.” you whisper softly

“I love you too” Suguru replies, turning his head slightly to give you a quick kiss on your lips.

You look at the pictures scattered on the table. The spy has been documenting Mamuka and Andrew’s day. Andrew’s day tends to be pretty boring now that he got what he wanted, he just went to work, went home, took Maruka out for dinner, nothing special. Maruka on the other hand, with no work to occupy and her new addiction to gambling on horse races, has been blowing through her money like water.

You made sure that the workers at Toji’s ring would let her win frequently at first, building her confidence in her luck. Then, you make sure she’ll start to lose. Of course, she will win when the worker notices she’s getting frustrated and about to give up. To give her that high. To keep her hook.

From what Shoko’s work friend, a nurse, at Andrew’s hospital has been telling you, he has been more and more agitated lately. Looks like Maruka’s spending habits are slowly affecting their relationship. You made sure to decline every single one of her invites to dinner with her and Andrew. You can’t risk them finding out you and Shoko’s best friend, and you as Ina are the same person.

“How is everything going on your side?” Suguru ask softly

“Oh, you know, just occasional lunch and dinner with the bitch, keep the ‘friendship’ going. The way she talks pisses me off though, she talks like a child. Sitting with her makes me miss Shoko even more. That should be Shoko’s place at the table with me, not her.” you complain with a sign, making Suguru chuckle.

“I miss her too, Sweet” He reached his hand up to pat your head, “What about Satoru? How’s his task going?”

“Magnificent actually, this whole life insurance company plan actually brings in money for the company, so it’s like killing two birds with one stone.” Satoru chimes in from behind you two, he leans down to give both you and Suguru a soft kiss.

“Seems like everything is going smoothly as planned then.” Suguru stands up from his chair to go to his vinyl shelf, he picks one and puts it on his new record player that you got him last Christmas. Lovers by Taylor swift come on and he reaches his hand out to both you and Satoru.

“How about a small celebratory dance? We can go for a celebratory dinner tonight” Suguru suggested.

You giggle and walk over to take his hand and so did Satoru. You spend the next few minutes twirling between them and watching them dance with each other. You’re genuinely happy, the happiest you have felt since Shoko’s disappearance. Revenge tastes oh so sweet, but it tastes addictingly sweet with your lovers around.

/////////

“Ugh, my boyfriend refused to give me an allowance today. Something about that he needed to save up for my ring. He’s bullshitting, I know it.” Maruka complained to you during your lunch with her. “I need money so I can win, I need to win so I can pay back my loan, this is so annoying!”

“That does sound annoying. I hate seeing you so upset like this. Is there any way I can help?” you asked in a concerned tone.

“I don’t know, Ina. I feel like the only way to solve any of my problems lately is money.” Maruka sighs. You smirk, pulling out a wad of cash from your purse.

“Here, $2000, for you.” You hand the stack of money to her. Smiling slightly.

“Wha- why? Thank you but…” Maruka start

“Oh don’t mention it, I recently invested in this new Insurance company owned by Gojo Corp. Their life insurance policy is pretty interesting. You can file for policies under someone else's name as long as you have their paperwork such as birth certificate, citizenship, social security number, things like that” You lied with the nonchalant attitude

“I recently filed one under my boyfriend’s name after finding out he was cheating on me and planning on buying a one way ticket to disappear to Russa.” You shrug. “Good thing the insurance company reimburse you double the amount you invest for disappearance cases, something about the owner having a friend that disappeared without a trace.”

You know it sounds too much like a lie. You know this lie sounds too good to be true. But you don’t need Maruka to believe you right now. You just need her to take the bait. After all, she ran out of money, in debt, with a gambling addiction. It shouldn’t take long for her to crawl to the insurance company from the prospect of easy money.

“Huh, interesting. Anyway, thank you.” She take the wad of cash

“No problem, just a small gift.” you reply. You can already see the cogwheel in her head spinning.

You parted ways with Maruka after eating and returned home. You send a text to your boyfriends before submerging yourself in your hot tub, “bait placed”. You enjoy the warmth of the hot tub and the water massage from it. You reminisce about your times with Shoko.

She would often tease you for how dense you were. “Everyone and their mother could tell that Satoru and Suguru have a thing for you, everyone but you apparently”.

Everytime you’re sad about another failed relationship, she would drag you out to go shopping or to the bar with her. Then you two would go to 3 different fast-food places, order an ungodly amount of food, and eat away your pain.

When you told her, you think you might like Satoru and Suguru more than friends, she said “fucking finally. go tell them that, I can’t handle those two being sad little puppies every time you get into a relationship with someone else anymore.”

You were maid-of-honor at her wedding. You can still remember how she looked in her wedding dress so clearly. You two went to pick it out together. You held her hand before she walk down the aisle, “anytime during the wedding, if you don’t wanna the do this anymore, I have the car readied”

She just laughed and said, “it’s just a marriage, I can handle myself, I don’t need you to worry about me.”

You should’ve grabbed her hand and dragged her to the car. That’s your biggest regret.

Your phone rings and snaps you out of your memory lane. A message from Satoru that said “she took the bait”. You smile at the text and step out of the hot tub. You’re thinking about making Satoru’s favorite dessert and Suguru's favorite food for dinner. Your boys have been working so hard for you. You should reward your favorite executioners tonight.

/////////

Good thing Satoru’s dad made him get a boating license during the summer of his 15. It’s a reason you three get to enjoy the weekend on a private yacht, in the middle of the ocean. You're currently enjoying a glass of champagne with some chocolate covered strawberry, sun-bathing in the lounge chair as your boys race each other in the water.

It's been a week since Maruka last contacted you to hangout. And according to Shoko’s nurse friend, it's been 3 days since Andrew came in for work. How interesting. Maybe you should give her a call.

You pick up our phone and click on Maruka’s contact, it rings 3 times before she pick up.

“Ina! Hi! What are you calling for?” She sounds panicky. She sounds like a kid doing something they shouldn’t be doing.

“Hey, I just wanna call to check up on you, haven't heard from you in a minute. What cha up to?”

“Oh nothing, just cooking… for my boyfriend! Yeah.”

“Oooh, what are you making?” you ask casually

“Just a beef stew, nothing special, just plain ol’ beef stew” Maruka answered rapidly, her attitude reminding you of Andrew’s attitude on the day of Shoko’s disappearance.

“Well, I’m just checking in, I would invite you out shopping with me but I’m on vacation right now. I’ll let you know when I’m back.”

With that, you and Maruka say bye to each other. You get up from your relaxed position and walk over to the railing on the yacht to call out to your boyfriends, who are trying to drown each other in their water splashing war.

“My loves,” You shout out to them, mischief in your voice. They stop what they were doing to look at you, enjoying the view quite a bit with the minimal amount of fabric you have on you, “it’s time for the anonymous tip and the wellness check don’t you think?”

A smirk grew on both of their faces as they swim back to the yacht to make some important phone calls. You lean on the railing to enjoy the sight of you boys. Their muscles flex in the most delicious way as they make their way through the water.

Your eyes didn’t leave their body as they climbed back up to the yacht. You're still staring as they both grab their phone to make some phone calls. You can’t help it, the way their skin glistens in the sun due to that water. The fact that they’re half naked right now with the short they’re wearing clinging onto their skin, giving you the sight of their defined thighs. Ah… it’s not as if you have never seen them in nothing but their birthday suit before, but still… your boys are just too attractive for their own good.

“If you stare any harder, you’ll burn a hole through us.” Satoru tease, you were too busy staring to notice he’s already finished with his phone call.

“I blame you two.” I joke, leaning into his body as he wraps his hand around you. Your smile gets wider when you feel another body pushing you closer to Satoru’s from behind.

“Oh? Please, do tell us how it’s our fault…” Suguru whispers into your ears, he nibbles on your ears a little before looking up to kiss Satoru.

Oh… you already know you’re gonna be in heaven for the next few hours. It’s a good day today.

/////////

Sunlight peeked through the blind of your shared room, waking you up. You look over to see Satoru and Suguru cuddling, you can’t pinpoint where one begins and where the other ends. You grab your phone to check the time, it’s 10am too early for lunch but too late for breakfast. You three just got back from your vacation in the middle of the ocean so you’re taking it slow before going back to work.

You get out of bed to go brush your teeth and get started on making brunch for yourself and your boys. You have a feeling it’s going to be a good day today. Eggs and bacon for brunch sound oddly enticing right now.

You take out the bacon from the fridge and place them slice by slice on a metal tray. You put them in the oven and get started on frying the eggs. Satoru likes his egg scramble, while Suguru likes sunny side up.

“Good morning” two voices greet you, not quite in sync because they’re not fully awake yet.

“Good morning, My Loves” you greet them back, “you could’ve slept in some more.”

“Nah, you weren’t in bed with us.” Suguru replies, he walks into the kitchen to help you cook. Satoru decides to go to the Living room to turn on the TV to a news channel before going to set up the table.

The TV in the living room drones on about the weather, politics, and current events as you guys eat. You three discuss how you are gonna spend the rest of your day as you finish up your brunch.

“Breaking news: Woman murders her boyfriend with the intention of cashing in on his life insurance policy to support her addiction.” The new anchor announces as the three of you wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen table.

“This morning, the police conducted a wellness check on Mr. Andrew, the husband of Ms. Shoko, who vanished without a trace a year ago. This check was prompted by an anonymous tip reporting his absence from work for three consecutive days, during which no one at his workplace could reach him. However, upon their arrival, law enforcement discovered only Ms. Maruka, Andrew's current girlfriend, present at the residence. Subsequent investigation of the home led to the unsettling discovery of fragments representing approximately 20% of Mr. Andrew's body, alongside three pots of meat stew. Analysis of the DNA extracted from the bones within the stew suggested the disturbing possibility that Mr. Andrew may have been used as an ingredient in this unsettling concoction.” The news anchor further elaborated on the case.

“Gross.” The three of you cringe at gruesome action.

“What was her plan with those stews? She isn’t thinking of eating it right?” Satoru commented, grimacing at the thought.

“Who knows, maybe she plans on feeding it to the stray dogs.” Suguru entertains Satoru’s thoughts.

“Ew. Even dogs wouldn’t want to eat that human waste.” you laugh, joining their antic.

“Based on an alternative anonymous tip, it appears that Ms. Maruka might be struggling with a gambling addiction and substantial debt. Additionally, she recently acquired a substantial life insurance policy in Mr. Andrew's name just one week ago. At present, all the available evidence strongly indicates that Ms. Maruka is the primary and sole individual under suspicion in connection with Mr. Andrew's demise.” The law enforcement officer being interviewed said with conviction.

You can help the wide grind forming on your lips as you wipe the dishes dry, “I can’t wait to tell Shoko about this.”

“I can already hear how much she's gonna enjoy this.” Sugar commented, chuckling at the thought, handing you another plate he just cleaned.

“We’ll tell her about this together. All three of us” Satoru said as he leaned down to place a kiss on your shoulder.

Yeah, the four of you will have the dinner you missed again. You, Satoru, and Suguru will tell Shoko all the mischief she missed. It won’t be now, or anytime soon. But you’ll tell her all about it, all three of you.

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bvtbxtch · 1 year

Text

Checkmate. | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You thought your night couldn't get much worse, until a certain metalhead makes you an offer you can't refuse.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x Original!Jock!Character, minimal usage of Y/N.

Series Warnings: MDNI!!!! 18+ smut, fluff and angst, mentions of drug and alcohol use, Eddie and Reader partake in substances and he drives, both give consent under the influence but no one is so intoxicated they don't know what they're doing, mentions of physical harm towards reader and domestic violence if you squint. Ageless or minor blogs will be blocked.

Word Count: 9.8k (Shes a mammoth, of course)\

A/N: Hello my babies thank you for coming to my ted talk. Here is my next series and I have no idea how long it will be thank you kindly. This man has just had a chokehold on my brain. This fic was inspired by the song Sex by the 1975 and Checkmate by Conan Gray. I want to say a special thank you to @darknesseddiem for being my sweet angel baby and chatting with me through some hard shit!! Love you lots! I hope you all enjoy!!

Going to tag some mutuals and my fave blogs because I would love feedback and ideas on what you would like to see next!!

@andvys @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddie-munsons-mullet @ali-r3n @lovebugism @trashmouth-richie

“Fuck” you gasp as you frantically look in all of your jacket pockets for any remnants of a cigarette. Your eyes clouded with tears as you tried to take deep breaths. You wish that the ground would swallow you whole as drunk teens climbed over you on the front steps of whoever’s house was hosting this weekend’s rager. You wished you talked your boyfriend out of this party - hell you wish that you were at home alone. That way this mess would have been avoided, or it could have happened in the comfort of your own home - or without being humiliated by most of the people you went to highschool with.

You laid on Billy’s unmade bed, pulling back on your shirt and fixing your panties that had been hastily pushed to the side.

“So, is that really what you’re wearing tonight?” the blonde studied you through the mirror on his wall. He had pulled his old Hawkins tee over his curls and smoothed it over his toned stomach.

“Wha- what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You peered down at your bare legs and suddenly felt self conscious. You had picked out Billy’s ‘favorite’ plaid skirt (for easy access) and paired it with an oversized one shoulder tee. Your previously perfected curls stood in a halo of frizz after your pre party escapades (which if you were feeling honest with yourself, were more pleasurable for one of you).

“It just, is like the same thing you always wear, babe. Show off that bod you got, you look like a prude” Billy sneered. You rolled your eyes as you readjusted the shirt you had donned.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight,” you mumbled.

“What are you talking about?” the mullet of curls whirled around and glared at you. “This is the biggest party of the summer and I need to make an appearance. You know people will ask questions if you aren’t there.” He stalked up to the bed and stood over where you sat. He grabbed your chin and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Plus what happens when I get too drunk and need to relieve myself in the bathroom, huh?” He snickered as he grabbed your hands and pulled you up. “Now get out of that pretty head of yours and get ready to have fun. It's like all of our favorite things. Booze, friends, music, me…” He pulled you to the door and smacked your ass as you left, you let out a yelp and a sigh as you walked to his front door.

“Those sound like all of your favorite things.” You mumbled, but the boy did not hear you. The two of you pulled out of his driveway and raced through the sleepy streets of Hawkins.

“Who’s all gonna be there tonight?” You asked. You weren't necessarily miss congeniality when it came to the Hawkins High population. You often found solace of the likes of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley; Steve being your neighbor since you moved to town, and Robin hardly ever leaving his side. They were the few other people who you felt fully comfortable being yourself around.

“Well of course all the boys are gonna be there, I think Harrington said he might show up, and Chrissy and the cheer girls will probably go, and… Heather will be there”He stuttered on Heather’s name, which made you look over at him. His cheeks cast a light pink glow and he glued his eyes to the road. He had never mentioned her by name before. She had always been a part of the ‘popular girls’. You were a secure person but you had a knot in your stomach. You hadn’t seen as much of your boyfriend lately, apparently going to show his alumni support at basketball games, or out with the boys. He had come back to your bed with a few suspicious looking marks on his chest and neck that he had shook off as bruises from golf with the guys. You weren’t dumb; you had your suspicions, but you found it easier to not confront him now. College applications had just gone out, and you had heard back from few. You were ready to leave Billy Hargrove and this shitty town, but the prospects were dwindling and even if you didn’t have a future, you would have someone to be with in town. You felt the stomach acid rising in your throat, making you feel sick.

“Heather, huh? You haven’t mentioned her before”

“Yeah, she has been at a few shindigs before… do you not remember?” Billy’s voice was hoarse, he was getting defensive. “Why are you getting so jealous?”

“Whatever, Hargrove. Let’s just drop it.” You had minimal energy to fight with him.

“No seriously, do you have a problem with her? Like, she’s just a girl, we’re dating. Do you seriously not trust me? Because I’ll stay stuck to your side all night if that’s what you fucking want.” His voice continued to rise as he babbled.

“Jesus fuck! I don’t care that much! You just haven’t mentioned her before. Just drop it” You scowled and turned your body to stare out the window.

“No, you look at me” The man grabbed your arm and pulled you hard towards the console of his car. “Do you fucking think I’m stupid? I’d drop your sorry ass before I went on to someone else - and this kind of shit makes me want to drop your ass so you better fucking behave because you know what happens if I fucking dump you.” His eyes were now fixed on yours instead of the road. You pulled your arm away with no avail

“Jesus, fine, I get it! Now let go, you’re hurting me” He let go of your arm as you threw your body towards the car door. You let a small ‘asshole’ slip out of your mouth, but he did not hear you. You rode in silence to the party. When the car stopped you opened your door and slammed it shut, leaving Billy to scramble out of his car after you. He caught up to you and grabbed your wrist.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He pouted

“Yeah whatever, let’s just drop it, okay? We’re here for a good time” you mumbled. You would do anything to get out of his grip. You needed a drink. He pulled you into his chest and planted a sloppy kiss to your mouth. He tried to stick his tongue in your mouth to deepen the kiss but you pulled away from him and led him inside with a tight lipped smile.

As the hours bled together like the alcohol on the linoleum, your brain begins to go fuzzy. Your boyfriend who was, at one time, hanging off of you, was nowhere to be found. You excuse yourself from the flip cup tournament occurring in the dining room to go to the bathroom and ground yourself from the alcohol that you had consumed. You came face to face with a girl with beautiful brown locks and big brown eyes. As soon as she looked up at you, she cast her gaze to the floor and scurried past you, a guilty smile plastered to her lips. As you made it to the end of the hallway, you were met with your boyfriend's figure. His eyes bulged out as you now stormed towards him; his hands flew to his neck.

“What the fuck is this?” you clamor, the alcohol fuelling your courage and anger.

“What are you talking about?” You pushed Billy into the wall and grabbed his wrists. When his neck was freed, you were met with sprinkles of violet bruises and lipstick.

“Are you fucking kidding me” you laughed dryly. You pulled Derek’s shirt up to see the marks lead down his stomach and disappear at the hem of his jeans. You let go and your hand wound up to slap his cheek. He takes the hit and stalks after you as you trudge back to the party.

“Y/N wait!” Billy’s pleas garner a crowd, drunk party goers begin to form a snickering gang around the two of you.

“Tell Heather I say hey, and stay the fuck away from me okay?” You turn on your heel and head for the front door.

“You want a puff of mine?” You hear a familiar voice ask you. You feel a soft thump and warmth beside you. You look over and you are met with dazzling chocolate brown eyes, a mop of curly bangs and a lopsided smile. The boy has a joint pinched between his fingers and is holding it between the two of you. You can smell the alcohol and weed radiating off of him, but unlike most of the people here, it brings you comfort. You don’t condone taking anything from strangers but tonight you needed it - and he wasn’t a stranger. Not really.

“Thanks” you whisper as you take the joint from his hands and place it in your mouth. The boy flicks his zippo and holds it to the joint in your mouth. When he pulls away, he spends what seems like hours studying your face. Your face was flushed, but you were pale. Your brows were furrowed in (what he thought was) the most beautiful way. Your lipstick had left a distant stain on your mouth and your mascara had just begun to smudge under your eyes. You looked tired, and you had obviously been crying. Eddie thinks you’re the most interesting and beautiful person he has seen tonight. He had thought you were beautiful when he had bumped into you in the hallways, or shared a friendly wave under the bleachers during a smoke break; but seeing you up close was worlds different. He feels addicted to your face already - maybe it was the beers and weed talking, but he couldn’t look away.

“How much do I owe you, Munson?” you mouthed through the joint.

“Owe me? Princess, you wound me! This one is free of charge.” Eddie quips as he throws his hands to his heart. He smiles as he plucks the joint from your lips, takes a puff, and places it back in your mouth. As little as you had talked to the metalhead in school, you remembered always being intrigued by him. Your gaze often rested on him as he made an ass out of himself. You often caught yourself smiling with him. His face always felt so kind and welcoming, a welcome change from the cruel judgmental stares of the population of Hawkins High. The only reason you weren’t eaten alive was because of Billy. Without him, you would have been the freaky new girl. But you also knew that Eddie Munson’s reputation preceded him: although he was labeled the freak, he was one of the few drug dealers in Hawkins, which also made him a hot commodity with the female population - and was masterful with skills that pertained to them (apparently).

“Totally free, huh? No strings attached?” you teased as you knocked your shoulder into his.

“Nah, pretty girl clause. I don’t charge for them… especially when they’ve been crying” His smile fell as he examined you. You met his eyes briefly but you couldn’t keep his gaze.. You glued your eyes to your sneakers. Eddie grabbed your chin softly and raised your face to meet his.

“Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be outside of a party crying, you should be making the boys inside cry” he thumbed at a rogue tear that fell down your face, then grabbed the joint from you again. Your breath hitched as he blew smoke back at your face.

“Tell me what’s going on.” You have no idea why, but you trusted him with your predicament.

“My-my boyfriend… I just caught him with another girl.” You laugh at yourself as the words fall out of your mouth. You never thought you would be the pathetic girl babbling to someone about her shitty life, but here you are. Eddie’s eyes harden and he begins to tense his jaw.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” he growls.

“Umm, his name is Billy”

“Fuck- no way, Billy Hargrove did this to you? What a fucking prick! What are you gonna do?”

“Nothing tonight. It’s not even worth it.” You slump. Wiping your eyes, you look back up to Eddie and smile. “Sorry, don’t mean to be a buzzkill. You can go back inside if you want, Eddie. I shouldn’t be bothering you with my shit.”

“Sweetheart, wherever you are feels like it's the most interesting place to be… now if I go inside, I would really hope that you would join me because the two of us can’t have much fun at this party if you’re out here alone, now can we?” Both you and Eddie blush furiously. His words went straight to the pit of your stomach. You didn’t know what you deserved for him to be so nice to you, but you hope that it doesn’t stop. Eddie jumps up onto his feet and stands in front of you, his hands reaching out to yours to pull you up. For a split second, you felt unsure of yourself. You stopped before Eddie led you back up the porch steps towards the house.

“You aren’t being nice to me just to get in my pants are you, Munson?” Although you try your best to hide it, insecurity seeps through your voice.

“Normally I would be flattered, but I can tell that’s the opposite of what you need right now. If you would let me, Y/N, I would love to go shotgun a beer with you and have fun at a party, that’s it.” Eddie’s smile is genuine. His eyes are soft and he smiles warmly at you. For the first time in what seemed like hours, you smiled a genuine smile. With a small ‘lets go’, you let Eddie lead you back into the party.

After a few more drinks, you find yourself across from Eddie in a circle of drunk teens. A beer bottle centered between all of you. You were never one for drinking games like this, but tonight you need a change, you want to do something you normally never would, thanks to your new drinking companion. What you don't anticipate is your boyfriend entering the circle, Heather not far behind him. Your gaze hardens as you see him fold his legs into a seated position. He looked angry at you, which fuelled your rage even more - how the fuck could he be mad at you? Your eyes peel from his form, to the lanky metalhead sitting across from you. He mouths the words ' it's okay’ then sends you a wink, your posture relaxed and you focus all of your attention at the mop head across the circle from you, not the boy you thought loved you.

A few rounds of the bottle, a few rounds of kisses, a few rounds of laughs. You are enjoying reacting to what was happening in the game of spin the bottle until the glass in the center lands on you. Time seems to stand still as you feel your heartbeat in your ears. Eddie’s face drops as he watches you, sensing your panic. He looks down at his hands and picks his thumbnails, not wanting to see the hot mess that was going to unfold in front of him. He was too pissed at your boyfriend to watch you - a literal angel - kiss someone who had hurt you so bad.

You felt your eyes beginning to well up with tears, feeling like you only had one choice in the circle full of strangers. You could hear some of them laughing at you - obviously knowing of what had transpired between you and Billy before. You look around desperately, hoping there is some way you could take your leave, then you make eye contact with the boy that had his stare trained on the floor. Your heart pounds harder as you unravel your legs and crawl across the circle - in the opposite direction of where your boyfriend was sitting. There are gasps and oohs escaping the crowd as you inch your way closer to the boy you were going to kiss. Eddie looks up at the commotion and instantly turns flush as his stare meets yours. You seem calm, but Eddie’s hands begin to shake. He makes the mistake of glancing over at Billy, who is bright red and clenching his fists. Was this really happening?

Eddie uncrosses his own legs and leans back on his hands, ready to receive you. As you meet his legs, he holds his breath. You slink up his body and when your face was close enough for Eddie to feel your breath on his face, you part your legs and sit into his lap. Eddie’s breath immediately hitches as everyone in the room falls silent. His arms fly to hover around your waist as your arms wrap around his neck. You gently lean in and close your eyes, giving Eddie a chance to pull away if he wanted to (but lord knows he didn’t). Your lips meet softly and you feel everything around you still. Eddie’s lips are chapped, but still feel soft against yours. You move your face to the side slightly for Eddie to deepen the kiss. His tongue glides across your lip as a permission to deepen your embrace further. You hum into him and he takes advantage, his tongue softly roaming the inside of your mouth, battling your own tongue. Your stomach backflips as Eddie grabs the side of your face, your squirm in his lap causes him to moan softly into your mouth. Everything felt spinny in the best way possible, you grab onto Eddie as you are afraid the euphoria was going to send you floating away. Suddenly, you feel a tight grip on your arm and you are being pulled to your feet from behind. You’re separated from Eddie with a smack of your mouths, and you are left to gaze at him in total awe as you are dragged out of the room backwards.The grip on your arm pulls you around the corner and it wasn’t until Eddie was fully out of sight that you felt any sort of panic.

Your back hit the wall with a thud and you were instantly trapped between two large biceps. You stare up at furious baby blue eyes glaring back at you. Billy’s hot breath fans over your face.

“What the fuck was that, Y/N? Are you fucking kidding me?” he slurs through gritted teeth. The vein on his neck was beginning to pop out. You’ve seen this vein many times before. The alcohol and intoxicating kiss were going to your head and the idea of your hypocrite boyfriend getting mad at you for a stupid spin the bottle game after he had fucked someone else gave you the giggles. You let a small one slip past your lips. Billy slams his hands against the wall that leaves a ring in your ears and your chest tightening. Your giggle fades and smile drops instantly.

“Fucking humiliate me like that again and I will fucking ruin you. You got it? You wanna do anything in this town, you want to see anyone, I’ll make sure you can’t. University? That fucking gross record store you work at? Gone. I’ll fucking own your life if you do that shit to me ever again. I can’t believe you would do something like that to me.”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me, right? You’re the one that’s mad at me?” you sneer. Derek takes a step back like you have punched him in the gut. “Go cry on Heather’s shoulder, because as far as I’m concerned, I’m single tonight. Fuck my life up just as hard as you fucked Heather in the bathroom.” The furious figure's hand forms a hard fist at his side. He looks like he is getting ready to wind up and hit you and you wince prematurely in anticipation…

Eddie sits in the circle completely stunned; your lips still burned onto his. It took him several seconds for his breathing to steady and for him to realize where he was: in front of a crowd of drunk teens that now look at him wide eyed, saying nothing. It also took him moments to realize that you were in fact sitting on his lap, but now were not. He runs his hands through his curls and offers his audience a tight lipped smile as he leans over and spins the bottle again. He rises from his seat and sets off after your figure, which had just disappeared around the corner. He floats over to where he could see your shadow, knees still shaky from going weak underneath your body. What he is greeted with snaps him out of his daze.

“Hey, is this dickhead bothering you?” a welcome voice rang in your ear and saves you in the knick of time. You look over to the side and see the once soft and dazzling brown irises are cold, his lopsided smile curved into a frown and his jaw was tense. Billy’s eyes meet with Eddie’s and you swear you see smoke coming out of his ears.

“Fuck off, Munson. This is between me and my girlfriend , so why don’t you find some other desperate slut to take home and leave her alone, okay?” He pushes two fingers into Eddie’s shoulder.

“Woah, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you snap.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. The meathead needs to take his aggression out on someone, apparently the fuck in the bathroom didn’t do it for him” Eddie snarls, puffing his chest out, inviting Derek to make a move.

“Sweetheart? I’ll fucking-” Derek goes to swing at the metalhead’s face but you insert yourself between the two of them.

“Both of you, back the fuck up. I am so not in the fucking mood.” You push Eddie away, towards the front door. Eddie’s eyes are trained on the enraged boy, ensuring he stays planted in the hallway. Your boyfriend’s hands are held in fists so hard that you imagine there’s crescent shapes etching into his palms. Once you were a safe distance away, Eddie’s gaze shifts to your hands pushing on his chest. He grabs them and pulls you to the entryway of the house. His eyes soften when they land on you, his face now painted with worry.

“Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he? I’ll fucking kill him if he-”

“Relax, Munson. I’m okay. He’s pissed. I guess he has the right to be.”

“Are you kidding? You have every right to be pissed at him! The way I see it, you just got revenge - which I am happy to have helped facilitate by the way.” To Eddie’s surprise, your retort to his comment was a wholehearted chuckle. He looks at you in amused bewilderment as you give him a hearty laugh. Your nose scrunches up and your eyes begin to water. Eddie’s heart soars, he thinks he could get used to seeing you like this. He takes a mental picture that he hopes will last him forever. Your laugh is infectious and soon he joins you. Your head leans into his chest and he is holding you to ground himself as well - feeling like he was going to explode with glee just being around you. Your laughing settles and you peered up at your savior, your eyes becoming cloudy with anxiety.

“Hey, this party kind of blows” he scoffs. “You wanna go?” he rubs circles into your shoulder comfortingly. You lean into his touch and smile softly.

“Yeah, I am ready to get the fuck out of here. Walk me home?”

“Oh, sweetheart. I’ll do you one better.” Eddie grabs your hand and leads you to the door. As you shut the door behind you, you make eye contact with Heather, who is staring wide eyed at you. You felt sorry for her. As difficult as it felt, you let the thought of her marks down your boyfriend’s body disappear with her figure behind the door.

You shiver in the damp summer twilight. Hawkins had been blistering hot during the daytime, but the nights were a welcome pause. You take a deep inhale of fresh air as you catch up to Eddie at the end of the driveway. You walk with him in comfortable silence. The streetlights encapsulate Eddie in a halo of light, his pale skin glowing and eyes shining. The more you study the mop headed boy, the faster your heart beats. Once you have rounded the corner of the sidewalk the boy grabs your hand. You flinch, but squeeze his hand tightly in appreciation. Why was he being so nice to you today? Are you just a lay for tonight or is he genuinely interested in you? As much as you wanted it to be genuine, you remind yourself that anything to distract you from this night was welcome. And he was in fact a pretty cute distraction.

“I’m sorry your boyfriend’s a dick” he utters. He bumps his shoulder with yours as your eyes turn to the pavement beneath your converse.

“Yeah, it’s okay I guess.” Eddie could feel you shutting down. Your grip loosens on his hand.

“You don’t deserve that, you know?” Eddie stops walking and pulls you to face him. You roll your eyes and scoff at him.

“Alright, Munson. Take it easy, if you keep this up I might think that you like me or something”

“But, I do like you.” Eddie retorts. His answer blindsides you. He can’t mean he likes you like that. Plus you have a boyfriend.

“You don’t even know me.”

“Well, I know that kiss wasn’t just a normal kiss” Eddie’s eyes bored into you, full of a comforting darkness that was unfamiliar to you.. A coldness ran through your veins and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “Here’s what I’m thinking. We give you some matching marks that your boyfriend has. We can have fun tonight and you can forget about what you saw at that party. Or we enjoy the ride back to your house and we say goodnight and I still go home feeling like the luckiest guy in the world because I got to kiss a really beautiful girl tonight. What do you say? Van’s right here.”

Your cheeks are hot and the butterflies in your stomach feel like they are going to fly out of your body. Your mouth feels dry and your head is spinning. Did he really just offer to sleep with you to get back at Billy? Would you even be able to bring yourself to do it? But the kiss… You couldn’t stop picturing the kiss. It felt perfect. It felt like he was the only person that you were supposed to kiss. If your shitty boyfriend was off with someone else, why shouldn’t you have fun too? You stand in contemplative silence for a moment, then look up at Eddie with your big doe eyes. He feels like he could fall apart right then. You nod feverishly at him. He studies your face closely to make sure there was no hesitation, then his eyes darken with excitement and something that you could not read.

Eddie lunges into you like you are his prey. His hands fly to your hips and he pushes you onto the side of his van. Your mouth opens to let him deepen the kiss and he hums into you. Your butterflies move from your stomach to your core as Eddie puts his knee in between your legs. You break the kiss to catch your breath, giving the brunette prime real estate at your neck. He traces kisses from the side of your mouth to your pulse point, then he bites down hard - garnering a sharp gasp from you. You feel Eddie chuckle against your skin. He drags his tongue against the new bruise that was forming to soothe the dull ache.

“Eddie” you gasp, feeling the strength slipping from your legs, you needed more from him. Eddie raises his head from your neck. His golden eyes bore into you with pure lust and passion, but he is considerate; he studies your face closely, looking for any trace of hesitancy. He pushes his weight off of you and gives you air.

“You okay? This is okay right?” God, you feel as if you were going to drown in his eyes. His voice is saccharine sweet and you want to melt into him. But there was a sickly pang of guilt, knowing that you were doing all of this behind your boyfriend’s back. No matter how shitty he was, you couldn’t help but feel bad. But Eddie making you feel this good was too difficult to ignore; so, you decide that you can feel bad later - now it was time for you to give in to what feels good.

“Yeah, we should get going,” you pant. You pull at the lapels of his vest so he is back on you, your lips feeling lonely without him. You feel Eddie pawing at the passenger door of his van to the left of you. Once he gets it unlocked, he lifts you by the hips and sits you on the passenger seat, but instead of detaching himself from your lips, he grabs at your thighs so they wrap around his lean waist. A shock wave of pleasure shoots straight to your core as you feel Eddie’s calloused hands trace up your thighs. His cool rings send shivers down your spine and spread heat to your core. You push your body closer to Eddie’s, which warrants a moan into your mouth. Eddie’s beginning to sweat, he feels like he could explode any minute. The feeling of your core just a few layers of where he wants you the most drives him wild. His hands wander to the hem of your skirt and up the top of your thighs. You use his infatuation with your legs to mouth at his neck. You pepper soft pecks to his Adam's apple, pulling a hard gulp from the boy. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest in anticipation of what was going to come next. You spread a blotchy galaxy of bruises across his neck, but when you bite down on his pulse point, you hear a growl in the back of Eddie’s throat that takes your breath away.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” His hands travel further up your legs and rest at your hip, toying with the hem of your panties. You wiggle your hips as silent encouragement. Eddie hooks his fingers around the soft cotton of your underwear and pulls them down cautiously, giving you plenty of time to stop him if needed. The summer breeze hits your core and you shiver. Eddie gasps once he has your panties in his hand.

“Cute underwear. This all for me? You’re so wet already” he coos as he scrunches the fabric into his hand. “I’m gonna have to take these as a souvenir, if you don’t mind” You roll your eyes and laugh, but your smile fades as Eddie drops to his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact with you.

“E-Eddie, what are you doing? We can’t do this in the middle of the road” you protest, pulling your skirt down and tugging your knees together.

“Then you better be quiet so we don’t get caught”. Eddie returns his hands to your thighs and traces over your knees so he can pull your legs back open. With a sigh, you give in. Eddie gives you a reassuring smirk, then presses a kiss to your knee. It feels like it is getting harder and harder to take steady breaths as you watch the beautiful boy beneath you plant chaste kisses up your thigh. You felt like you were going to suffocate the closer he got to where you wanted him the most, the anticipation strangling you like a noose. You wriggle in the seat, head pulled down to examine what the metalhead was doing beneath you.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby” Eddie's praises went straight to your core and you let out a strained moan. Eddie sent a pointed look up to you, warning you to keep quiet. You bite down on your lip as the boy disappears under the small amount of skirt left covering your decency. Eddie presses small kisses around your cunt, making you twitch with every move. You’re getting desperate for some release and Eddie could tell. Your hips subtly thrust towards his face and you can feel a smile on the next teasing kiss.

“Eddie, please, please,” your calls sound like prayers to him and he could get used to hearing the hymn coming from you. He decides to relieve you from your distress and takes a long swipe along your folds. You wrack out a mewl so sensual Eddie felt like he could cum right then. His tongue felt euphoric and he hums praise into you as he takes another swipe.

“Pussy tastes so good, princess. You’re so sweet” Eddie says before his lips bare down on your clit, sending your head jolting back in ecstasy. One of your hands flies to the roof of the van, the other in Eddie’s hair. As you claw at his scalp, Eddie doubles down on your heat, sending you closer and closer over the edge.

“Eddie, please, I’m so close” you pant.

“Come on, Y/N. Cum for me” Eddie encourages, probing a finger into your throbbing core. Eddie fixates his tongue on your clit, ensuring his eyes can watch your face as you fall apart over him. His finger curls expertly inside you, encouraging your orgasm to radiate through your body. Before you can register what was happening, your chest grows tight and you lose all feelings in your legs, a euphoric sob is pulled from your lungs and you couldn’t help but tighten your grip in Eddie’s hair, to his delight. Eddie moans into your core as he works you through, feeling hardly able to control his own high as well. When you moan again, Eddie detaches his mouth from you and swiftly raises to his feet. His hand cupped over your mouth as he continued to pump in and out of you, pushing you to overstimulation. You mewl beneath Eddie’s hand and he scolds you.

“Now, this is how you get us caught, sweetheart.” Eddie peers down each side of the sidewalk, luckily no one had seen the two of you. Eddie pulls his fingers out of your cunt and takes his hand off of your mouth, giving you an opportunity to catch your breath. Chest heaving, feeling high solely off of your orgasm, you swoon as you watch Eddie take the fingers that are covered in your essence and pop them into his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Get in the back, pretty girl” Eddie demands. You shake your head as you hop off the seat, legs wobbly and head spinning. You take Eddie’s hand and climb into the now open sliding door, giving Eddie a beautiful shot of your glistening pussy under your skirt. He curses to himself as he climbs in after you.

You take in the sights of the back of Eddie’s van and although it isn’t necessarily clean, it is cozy and you immediately feel comfortable being there with him. There are a few throw pillows tossed haphazardly in the corner, along with a few blankets strewn out on the floor. Cassettes littered whatever area they could claim and various metal posters decorated the walls. To your surprise, a line of wrapped condoms sat in one of the cupholders.

Eddie’s mouth was back on you as soon as he closed the door. The taste of your own essence and the weed you had smoked earlier made you feel high all over again. Eddie sits back against one of the van’s walls and guides you by the hips into his lap. The feeling of his rough denim on your bare core riled you up and again you were a mewling mess on his lap.

“Take this off, I wanna see you” Eddie mutters as he fumbles with the hem of your T-shirt. You fling off your shirt as Eddie ogles at your figure. His hands drift to your breasts and he moans in satisfaction.

“If I take mine off, you gotta take yours off” you tease. Eddie happily obliges you and pulls his shirt off. You were finally able to fully take in the boy's beautiful alabaster skin. You admired the dark ink that danced along his muscles and the neat lining of hair that leads to where you want to see the most. As much as you appreciated the distraction, you did find yourself truly appreciating Eddie for his looks as well as his sexual prowess. He truly was beautiful and looked even more so looking up at you with a fucked out stare, eyeing you like you were his whole universe. Eddie mouthed at the edge of your bra as he reaches around your back to unclasp your pesky straps. Your moans and breaths invigorate him even more and you could now feel his erection growing furiously hard beneath you. When your bra falls from your shoulders, Eddie captures one of your nipples in his mouth, while pawing at your other breast. You wanted his mouth to become a permanent fixture of your body. He felt so natural being there, and you couldn’t get enough. Your hands land on Eddie’s pecs, feeling the muscles moving beneath you, you claw down his stomach. Eddie hisses into your skin, loving the pain. You fumble with his belt beneath you, impatient to get his pants off. Again, you feel Eddie’s smirk against your skin. He separates himself from you to assist you in unclasping his belt and pants.

“Impatient girl,” he teases.

“Just get your pants off, Munson” You want your response to sound confident and sassy, but you are getting desperate, and your voice sounds whiny and breathy. It made Eddie laugh in confidence. He could ask you to do anything for him and you would do it right now, he knew that.

Eddie grabs your wrists that were still frantically trying to get into his pants and he pulls them away. You wriggle off of him and watch with bated breath as the boy peels off his jeans. Your eyes widen at the erection that Eddie is sporting. You couldn’t help yourself - you reach to him and run your hand across his bulge, eliciting a hiss from the boy. You flinch, but return your hand.

“Is this okay?” you question with sickly sweet care. Eddie could cum right this second.

“More than okay, princess,” he sighs. “Feels so fucking good already”. You place yourself between the boy’s legs and continue to rub at him, squeezing his length and rubbing your hands over his sensitive head every few strokes.

You understand how Eddie could get off by pleasuring you, because the sounds he was making sent heat straight to your core. His sighs and praises left you with a bewildered smile on your face. Your fingers curl beneath Eddie’s plaid boxers and he held his breath. You share a look, ensuring each other that you were both okay with going forward. You free Eddie’s cock and it flexes up towards his bellybutton. He is large - both exceptionally long and girthy. His veins trace the underside of his cock and lead to his weeping, pink tip. You feel your mouth watering as you lower yourself to Eddie’s waist. Your eyes peer up at him as you take one long swipe at him with your tongue. Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head as he lets out a groan. You tease his tip, taking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his slit. Eddie’s hand finds purchase in your hair, stroking and pulling softly to ground himself. He was desperate to cum, he could just let himself go in this second, but then he wouldn’t be able to take full advantage of the time he has with you.

“Fuck, babe. You feel so good on my cock” Eddie’s praise encouraged you to take as much of Eddie that would fit in your mouth, and sucked back up his length. You bob on his cock until your eyes are watering. You milk Eddie for all of his sweet sounds and touches. You take a moment to look up at the boy and you are met with one of the most beautiful sights you have ever seen.

Eddie’s mouth was parted slightly. His bangs were beginning to stick to his forehead from the heat in the van. The rest of his hair settled on his shoulders, curls beginning to frizz. His brows were perfectly furrowed in concentration. His eyes pressed shut. A red flush formed on his face. He looked angelic. You could get used to looking at him like this: a moaning mess underneath you. You push Eddie’s cock further into your mouth and hold it there. Eddie’s eyes fling open in ecstasy and he looks down at you. He also thinks this is one of the best sights he’s ever seen. Then he feels you gag and he feels like his soul has left his body.

You moan into him then you gag, pulling back to catch your breath. Suddenly, Eddie is pushing you back against the opposite wall of the van.

“Eddie wha-”

“As much as I love seeing you choke on my cock, I can’t fucking hold on anymore. I need your pussy,” Eddie pleads as he undos the zipper on your skirt. You assist him in pulling it off as he reaches into his cup holder and grabs a small silver foil. He rips it open with his teeth and hisses as he slides the condom onto his penis. You felt a pang of nerves now. Being so close and intimate to Eddie felt so evil - he wasn’t your boyfriend. But it felt so right. Your pussy quivered just thinking of him being inside you. Eddie positioned between your legs. He rubbed his head between your folds, evoking moans from both of you.

“Fuck, you’re still so wet. You like sucking my dick, huh?” Eddie quips.

“Unff. Eddie, I love it.” You jolt as his head rubs at your clit. “Please, Eddie. Need you”

Eddie's eyes drop to where you are connected and he lines himself up with your entrance. He slowly presses in with a low growl.

“Fuck. You’re sucking me in”

“So big Eddie. Fuck” You pant. He had gotten barely half way and you felt deliciously full already. The stretch, mixing pleasure and pain. He is a perfect gentleman in taking his time with you. You admire his self control. You could tell going slow was not easy for him. His brows were furrowed even harder than before, his breath short and raspy. Finally, Eddie bottoms out. You felt like you were going to lose control too. You whimper underneath the metalhead.

“It's okay baby, you take my cock so well” Eddie’s hand came up to stroke your face gently, a brash juxtaposition to the lewd act you were both participating in. You turn your cheek and open your mouth on Eddie’s thumb. You look up at him with your watery eyes and suck down hard. Eddie thought he was going to collapse right then and there.

Eddie pulls himself all the way back out of you, instantly making you feel empty. You’re overwhelmed with fullness and pleasure as his cock rams back into you. You can’t help but yell out in pleasure. You bite your lip and cover your mouth with your hands. Eddie begins fucking into you at a ruthless pace. He pulls your hand from your mouth .

“Don’t stop those noises. I wanna hear you” he coos, pulling a sob from you. His cock hits just the right spot and you could feel yourself hurling towards the second orgasm of the night.

“E-Eddie… m’close. Please don’t stop” you whine. Eddie smiles down at you, quickening his pace. His hand flies down to where the two of you meet and while muttering endless praises, rubs precise circles on your clit. You feel Eddie’s hips stutter as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head and gasp as your orgasm falls on you. Your pussy has Eddie in a vice and he could barely hold back his own finish, but he was determined to work you through your climax, to make you feel as good as you can for as long as he could. He can feel your legs shaking beneath him and sees tears well up in your eyes. As you push his hands away from your sensitive clit, he puts his hands beneath your back and pulls you into his lap. Your hands fly to the wall of the van. Eddie fucks into your pussy at a dizzying pace, so hard that you felt that you could barely hold on.

“That’s right baby, bounce on that cock like a good girl. Take it” You whine at his words while your pussy throbs from your ebbing orgasm. You look around and suddenly feel a pang of jealousy. You wondered how many girls he had done this with in the back of his van - hell, anywhere. Were you just another conquest? What makes you different? Eddie saw an opportunity and he took it; and as hypocritical as you were, you hated thinking that he was going to leave the party and go see someone else. You look down at Eddie, his hair surrounding him like a halo, his cheeks fully flushed and sweat dripping down his face.

“Come for me, Eddie.”

“Wha-”

“Come for me. Come on, I wanna see you cum” Your eyes darken with lust and never left his face. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you and his breath shallowed. With a grunt and a few hard thrusts, you could feel Eddie’s cock being milked for all it was worth. You almost wish that he wasn’t wearing a condom so you could really feel him. His hips settle and you put your weight down on Eddie’s body, both heaving and sweaty. You let out a small giggle but Eddie studies your face closely, something is happening behind your eyes. Something’s wrong.

“Hey” , his voice was soft and tender. “Everything okay?”

“What? Of course. That was… that was great” you sigh, but Eddie doesn’t seem convinced. You roll off of him and lay to his right, looking into his beautiful brown eyes.

“If you regret it we don’t have to do it ever again and you can pretend like you don’t know me” Eddie’s eyes darted from yours and a dry laugh left his lips. Was Eddie Munson insecure?

“Eddie, that was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I don’t regret it at all” you smile at him. You can feel his muscles relax beside you and his face sank into his usual dopey smile. You weren’t lying. Things with your boyfriend had been… tense to say the least.

The movie playing out of Billy’s old pick up truck was drowned out by wet smacks against your neck. As usual, your boyfriend ignored your requests to not be marked up and was in the middle of gnawing at you when his hands started to migrate to your thigh. You nudged his hand away, but he persisted, swatting your hand away from his. This time, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. His kisses traveled down to your collar bone and he played with the hem of your shirt.

“Babe, we’re in public.” You scolded him, pushing him off of you. You had begun to feel like everyone around you was aware of what you were doing. You weren’t afraid of taking some risks, but you were just not feeling it tonight.

“Yeah, and the public is watching a movie, so relax.” Billy presses his kiss-swollen lips to yours and forces his tongue into your mouth. You took your hands and pressed against his pecks to push him off.

“I don’t want to do this right now, Hargrove. Seriously.” You turned your whole body against the door, away from him. He scoffed at you and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“So you wear a skimpy little dress like that and you agree to come to the drive in with me just to actually sit and fucking watch a movie? Or are you dressing up for someone else? Andy works here right? Is that who it’s for?” His voice raised with every word he spat at you. You could feel the tears starting to prick at your eyes. But you wouldn’t cry for him - you didn’t want to give him what he wants. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as a death grip engulfs your bicep. Billy pulls you to him, so close that you can feel his breath fanning on your face. Your breath gets caught in your throat.

“Don’t joke like that, Billy. I would never.”

“Prove it to me then.”

“Wh-what” you whimpered.

“Prove to me how much you love me.”

“Billy… please”

“Prove. It.” he seethed. He let your arm go and pushed you towards the passenger door. He leaned back and undid his jeans.

He raised his arms behind his head in satisfaction as you held back tears. You opened the truck door and slammed it, trudging towards the small concession to ask Robin for a ride home.

You and Eddie wrangle your clothes, sharing small laughs and pleasant conversation. You both share another joint as you both stall ending the night. Finally, the conversation lulls and you’re afraid the time has come for you to go home. Eddie lets out a lazy yawn and you can’t help but admire his treasure trail that peeks out over his jeans as he stretches his arms above his head.

“You getting tired?” he inquires, fidgeting with his rings.

“Yeah, I could sleep,” you admit. It was close to three in the morning and not only had you been up for almost 24 hours, you were so emotionally exhausted, feeling whiplash from your eventful evening. “I can let you go home,” you get up to open the van door, but Eddie grabs you by the waist and pulls you back into him. You giggle giddily. It’s been a long time since you have enjoyed being manhandled, but all of Eddie’s intentions seem so sickly sweet you couldn’t help but blush.

“Woah woah woah. You think I am going to let you walk home looking like that” He snorts.

“Looking like what?”

“Fucking gorgeous, and fucked out’. Eddie’s eyes rake over your figure again, sending heat back straight to your core. “Plus, I still have your underwear and there’s no way in hell you’re gonna walk home without those.”

“Well, you could give them back then,” you retort

“Not a chance in hell, sweetheart” He lands a chaste peck on your cheek before unwrapping his arms from you. He swings open the sliding door and hops out. Galivantly, he spins on his heel and offers his hand out to you. You take it and hop down onto the sidewalk. He opens the passenger door for you and helps you in. Once you are settled, he entraps you between his arms and leans his face close to yours. His eyes flicker between your mouth and eyes and he licks his lips. Suddenly, both of your movements feel more intimate. You meet him in the middle and lift your hand up to his cheek, he flinches at your touch, but quickly melts into you. Your mouths meld together perfectly and you would be content with staying like this forever. Eddie pulls away and rests his forehead against yours and offers you a sweet smile. He closes the door, leaving you for moments of silence. You can’t help but smile into your lap and touch your lips, still burning with the metalhead’s kiss.

He turns the ignition and turns the radio up, Black Sabbath ringing through the van. You tell Eddie your address and he turns off of the low lit neighborhood road. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you but you saw Eddie’s hand twitch a few times. He wanted to reach out and touch you so bad, already feeling so starved of your energy. His Adam's apple bobs and he slowly reaches out to touch your knee. Eddie’s warmth sends butterflies to your stomach. Never have you felt so cared for by someone, let alone a random revenge hook up. You feel conflicted. As you stare out the window you couldn’t help but feel like a bad person - not for sleeping with Eddie, but for sleeping with someone with the intent to hurt your boyfriend. At least when Billy did it, you thought, it might have just been a mistake or getting caught up in the moment. You went out and sought out an action to hurt him on purpose. But fucking Eddie felt too good, and from the conversation you had after spin the bottle, it was clear to you that you were just an object for Billy’s interest. When he was done with you he would move on and get what he wanted from someone else. So, should you feel bad about finding something - someone you like being with? You couldn’t break up with Billy, you wanted to forget about this whole night but his words will ring out in your brain and heart forever. You let out a deep sigh and relax into Eddie’s seat.

“What’s eating you, sweet thing?” Eddie squeezes your thigh and you flash him a tight, but kind smile.

“It’s just been an… interesting night.”

“Listen-” Eddie turns down the radio so Ozzy Osbourne is a mere whisper. “I don’t want you to feel bad about what we did. I don’t want you to be upset at yourself for that. So, if you want to forget this thing happened, I do understand. Really” His puppy dog eyes flickered between the road and your face, looking for any clues to what was going on in your head. You are such a mystery and he so desperately wanted to continue figuring you out, but, like you, your boyfriend seemed to be the only thing on his mind. You rub your lips together, deep in thought.

“Eddie, I don’t regret what we did at all. But, I mean I do feel bad. I cheated on my boyfriend… but he’s a piece of shit” you mumble. “I don’t want you to feel bad either. I had a lot of fun tonight. I was being honest when I said this was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, I promise.” You grab the hand resting on your thigh and give it a squeeze.

Eddie’s heart could beat right out of his chest. There was a twist of guilt in your voice but you seemed… different. You aren’t sad. You don’t seem angry. You seem similar to Eddie: enamored with the person you are looking at. It gives him hope that he could selfishly go home and think there is a chance that he might see you again. A comfortable silence falls upon the two of you, both giddy at the contact and reassurance you have both received, but your eyes stay cloudy. Even though Eddie doesn’t know you well, he can tell you are still deep in thought about something. It makes him nervous not knowing what about. Did he do something wrong? Are you going to tell him that this was all a joke and you never want to see him again? Eddie dreads turning onto your street, he’s not ready to say goodnight and potentially goodbye. He begrudgingly pulls into your small driveway and turns the key in the ignition. The console light illuminates your faces and Eddie is sure he is looking at an angel. Your soft eyes peer at him through thick lashes and you bite your swollen lips.

“I, umm, I had a thought” you peep. Eddie nods at you in encouragement to keep going.

“I mean… If my boyfriend is going to fuck around behind my back, why can’t I do the same, you know?” You fiddle with the rings on Eddie’s fingers that are still in your lap. “I mean, he’s practically holding the relationship hostage so why can’t I have fun behind his back too?” You peer up at the boy whose eyes soften when you do. He could tell you were nervous to say this to him, scared of being judged. Little did he know, you were also worried that this was just some random fuck for him too.

“Eddie, I was wondering if you wanted to make an… arrangement” you stop fiddling with his rings and your eyes bore into him; full of hope and desire. A smile quickly spread across Eddie’s face.

“Hmmm, yeah, sweetheart. I think we could make that work.” You smile down at your hands, worried that if you look too hard into Eddie’s eyes, there would be no way you would ever make it out of them. Your eyes spot a sharpie laying on the floor of your seat. You reach down and pick it up. Eddie shoots you a questioning look but lets you grab his hand anyway. Trying not to shake too badly, you neatly scribble your phone number on his hand. When you let go of him, Eddie looks at his hand in awe, like he has just won a million dollars. The truth is he felt like he had. He would tattoo your number on his skin if it meant that he would be able to see you again. You bombard his internal celebration with a peck on his cheek.

“Thank you for the ride, Eddie.”

“Which one?” He quips. You smile but roll your eyes as you regretfully pull away from him and hop out of the van.

“You better call me tomorrow.” you warn

“Sweetheart, it's gonna take everything in me not to call you as soon as I get home.” Eddie’s smile was from ear to ear. Heat rises to your cheeks and your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. You turn and walk up the driveway with a matching grin. This night went from bad to worse to the best night you think you’ve ever had.

Like the perfect gentleman, Eddie waits until he sees your door close before he pulls out of your driveway. When you close and lock your door you are met with silence and darkness, but you felt as though your joy could light the whole neighborhood. You slide down your front door and pull your knees to your chest. You let out a content sigh, followed by a giggle. If Billy wants to fuck around. He’s gonna find out. He thought that you would sit around and be walked all over? Absolutely not. He might think that he’ll win the heartbreak, but with your new arrangement with a beautiful brunette? Checkmate.

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