#she is here to silently judge
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hakujahime · 1 year ago
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clarissaweasley-10 · 5 months ago
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only my mom has the incredible talent of yelling at me for hours and then again berate me for crying abt it like- atp i dont know what she even expects me to do.
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red-animator · 1 month ago
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I hate the "Carmilla adopts Vaggie" concept with a burning passion and here's why:
There is not enough time for that in the show whatsoever. An adoption plot where a main character gets adopted needs at least 20 episodes, not just to build the relationship between Vaggie and Carmilla but also between Vaggie and Odette, and Vaggie and Clara (Carmilla's daughters), and there needs to be time to establish Carmilla as a character instead of just a plot device, and even if the show had a 26 episode season that would take a long time
The main cast is big enough already, Carmilla does not need to become a major player and adding yet another major character would make it harder to characterize the existing ones and establish relationships between them
Vaggie is a whole grown adult woman, she does not need to be adopted
It feels reductive to Carmilla as a character for her to just go "yeah I'll adopt this random person who I trained once," both in terms of her as an overlord and as an existing mother to two daughters. It cheapens the relationship between Carmilla and her daughters for her to adopt someone she knew for like an hour. Her entire motivation in season 1 was to protect her family and how important her daughters are to her, and for her to turn around and just adopt someone else (who also used to try and kill them every year) cheapens their importance unless you spend an incredible amount of time building up why Carmilla wants to adopt her
Carmilla as an overlord needs to be interrogated if she's to adopt Vaggie. Charlie's hotel is about trying to redeem sinners and Carmilla owning souls directly opposes that
Again, Vaggie is a grown adult woman. At absolute most she could use a mentor but even then we circle back to the issues of a giant cast because Lucifer is a fallen angel like her and he's already right there
That's such a boring dynamic. Neither Hazbin nor Helluva have ever had "nuclear" family dynamics, and Vaggie being adopted is just such a plain and unimaginative interpretation
I would much rather Vaggie's subplot be about investigating her past as an exterminator and how she can move on from being a murderer in a hate cult who specifically targeted and wished to exterminate the people she is now trying to help
In fandom, it often completely erases the complexity of Carmilla as an overlord and doesn't do anything with her daughters aside from making them Vaggie/Chaggie cheerleaders
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rcgecore · 1 year ago
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ENDLESS EDITS OF ANASTASIA BARNES : character study.
mutuals may like & reblog.
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1shimaru · 2 years ago
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she comes to OUR house unannounced and loudly rummages around at 5am and picks at our rice, OUR RICE! Get out of my house if you're going to disrespect me like this!
THEN she wants to be stationed in the room that us siblings have for ourselves, NO!! My siblings use that room to listen to whore lyrics and decompress, you are NOT encroaching upon our space like that. Why do we suddenly have to make MORE SPACE when we've given you space? and so late at night, too! She's not even discussing, she's just saying stupid things like "I'll just sit here" tHAT IS MY COMPUTER RISER, IT WILL BREAK!!
SHE EVEN!! OOOOGHHH SHE EVEN comments, she jokes where our TV is stationed (my parents' room) and how "the TV is out in the open at my house heehee" WELL YOU'RE NOT AT YOUR HOUSE, ARE YOU?? GOD HELP ME!
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lesbianstarlightglimmer · 9 months ago
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Last day of new teacher orientation tomorrow and I had better get my questions answered tomorrow or I’m gonna explode
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greengoblinswifey · 4 months ago
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Little Do You Know—Player 001/Hwang In Ho x Fem!Reader
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summary—after making a passing remark on the possibility of the front man being attractive, your crush on young-il who unbeknownst to you is the front man, boils over. based on this request.
warnings— flirting, oral(f&m receiving), praising, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie.
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The group sat gathered around with a small meal, the kind of makeshift dinner that felt comforting despite the bleak circumstances. Gi-hun leaned back, his arms crossed, recounting some story about the Front Man. “I’m telling you, he has cameras everywhere. He probably sees and hears everything we��re saying.”
The mood was tense, as it often was when the Front Man became the topic of conversation. But your lips twitched upward, a thought making you suppress a giggle.
Dae-ho, ever the curious one, caught it immediately. “What’s so funny?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in your direction.
You waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing. It’s silly. Forget it.”
Young-il, sitting across from you, tilted his head slightly, his expression soft. “Come on,” he said gently, his voice soothing in a way that made you feel oddly safe. “Anything you have to say, we’ll appreciate. Don’t hold back.”
Encouraged by his tone, you hesitated for just a moment before shrugging. “Alright, but don’t judge me.” You exhaled a breathy laugh, looking down at your lap for a second before glancing back up. “What if the Front Man is, like—really hot?”
The reaction was instant. Dae-ho choked on his milk, sputtering, while Jun-Hee’s eyes widened slightly before she went back to eating as if she hadn’t heard you. Even Jung-Bae, usually laid back, looked at you like you’d just grown a second head.
“Seriously?” Gi-hun said, shaking his head in disbelief. “That’s what you’re concerned about?”
“What?” you asked defensively, your shoulders lifting in mock innocence. “I’m just saying. It’s possible!”
Gi-hun groaned, covering his face with his hands. “We’re talking about a guy who might be orchestrating all this madness, and you’re worried if he’s good-looking?”
Before you could respond, your eyes flicked to Young-il. Everyone else was either laughing awkwardly or shaking their heads, but Young-il wasn’t saying a word. Instead, a subtle smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, almost imperceptible to anyone else. Almost.
Your gaze stayed on him for a moment, your brow quirking as you tilted your head slightly in return, a silent question hanging between the two of you. His smirk deepened just enough for you to catch the meaning, amusement, maybe even intrigue, but he quickly smoothed his expression before anyone else noticed. He was hot too, you thought.
Gi-hun, still shaking his head, muttered, “Out of everything you could be thinking about.”
“Well, excuse me for lightening the mood,” you shot back playfully, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like I said I wanted to marry him or something. Geez.”
As the group moved on, you couldn’t help but replay the moment in your head. Maybe you were overthinking it, but wasn’t Young-il’s smirk a little too knowing? Or maybe it was just your ridiculous crush on him twisting your perception. You’d never admit it out loud, but you found yourself drawn to his quiet confidence, the calm authority he exuded even in casual moments like this.
It was ironic, really, here you were crushing on Young-il while joking about the Front Man. Little did you know, the very man you were teasing about might as well have been sitting right in front of you, wearing the mask in plain sight.
You shook the thought off with a small laugh. Overthinking, as usual. Still, when Young-il glanced your way again, his gaze warm and unreadable, you couldn’t stop your stomach from fluttering.
The night had settled into a familiar stillness, broken only by the occasional shuffle of someone shifting in their sleep. You couldn’t sleep, your earlier exchange with Young-il replaying in your mind. That smirk, so brief, had lodged itself in your thoughts.
You were still awake when he appeared, his footsteps quiet as he approached where you lay, tucked into a dim corner of the quarters. He didn’t say anything at first, just crouched down beside you, his dark eyes searching yours.
“Can’t sleep either?” he asked softly.
“Guess not,” you replied.
He tilted his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Still thinking about the Front Man being hot?”
“I didn’t mean to make it weird,” you said laughing and flustered.
“You didn’t,” he assured you. “But if I didn’t know better, I’d say you might have a type.”
Your cheeks warmed under his words, and you rolled your eyes, trying to deflect. “Oh, come on. I was joking.”
“Were you?” he teased, his smile widening just a bit.
You were about to retort, but something in his expression stopped you. His hand, warm and steady, brushed against your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“You know,” he said, his tone teasing, “if you wanted to get something off your chest, now’s the time.”
Your breath hitched. “What are you trying to say, Young-il?”
“Just that I’m here,” he replied, “If there’s something you want.”
His words sent a jolt through you, and before you could second guess yourself, you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. The kiss started slow, testing the waters, but quickly deepened as his hand came up to cradle your face.
The thought of the games seemed to fall away as you lost yourself in the way his lips moved against yours. His hands were firm but gentle, holding your face as the kiss turned hungrier, more insistent. His fingers found their way into your hair, tugging slightly, drawing a low moan from him that you quickly stifled.
“Quiet,” he murmured against your lips, a teasing smirk playing on his face as his thumb brushed over your cheek. “We wouldn’t want to wake anyone, would we?”
Your heart raced as his lips moved to your neck, his hands on your waist as he guided you back against the small bed. He trailed kisses down your chest, his kisses slow and savoring every moment.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
A soft gasp escaped your lips as his kisses grew bolder, trailing lower. He pulled off your bottoms and your lace panties, tongue licking from your hole to your clit. The way he did it so suddenly, so smoothly, made your pussy throb. You instinctively bit down on your lip, your hands fisting the fabric beneath you as you fought to keep your composure.
“Relax,” he whispered. “Let me taste you.”
His hands slid down your thighs, spreading them open as he adjusted your position. He glanced up at you, his dark eyes meeting yours with a glimmer of mischief and tenderness. You pressed your lips together tightly, his skilled tongue flicking your clit then moving to your leaking hole.
“Don’t hold back too much,” he murmured, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I want to hear those pretty moans, just a little.”
Your cheeks warmed at his words, his tone leaving you breathless. You felt the warmth of his fingertips on your thighs and the tenderness of his kisses on your pussy, and his praises were a quiet balm to the storm of emotions swirling inside you because of the game.
“You taste so fucking good,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”
Your fingers gripped his shoulders as he continued ravishing your pussy, mouth engulfing you and sucking as though the meal from earlier wasn’t enough. He was attentive to your pleasure, fingers pumping steadily inside your pussy as sucked and flicked your clit with precision. The precision you expected and appreciated in an older man. No one had ever made you feel this good. The pleasure was otherworldly and your legs shook from it all.
The coil in your abdomen and euphoria built with every passing second and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep quiet. His words and actions blurred together, creating a warmth that left you trembling. When his tongue brought you to your peak, you bit down on your lip to stifle a cry, your entire body shuddering as he pressed a soft kiss to your clit.
“You did amazing,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your ear as he leaned closer.
You gently nudged Young-il to lie back, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “My turn,” you murmured, your fingers grazing the waistband of his bottoms.
He raised an eyebrow, a chuckle escaping him, but there was no mistaking the lust in his gaze. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” you interrupted softly.
Slowly, you slid his bottoms down, taking in the sight of his, long, thick cock with a mixture of nervousness and determination. He was big, but you could take him. His sharp inhale was audible as your lips wrapped around the head, his hand instinctively brushing against your cheek as you went down.
“You’re too good to me,” he whispered, his voice low and tinged with awe.
Your fingers wrapped around his girth, careful and deliberate, and you began to stroke as you sucked with a rhythm that earned a quiet moan from him. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, but you focused, letting his quiet praises guide you.
“Just like that,” he murmured, his fingers threading in your curls. “You’re doing so well.”
You glanced up at him, mouth full, eyes watering and saliva mixed with pre cum dripping down your chin. Your cheeks warmed from his words and the darkness of his gaze. The way he looked at you like you were the most beautiful little thing in the world as you took him down your throat made your heart race. You bobbed your head faster, using as much tongue as you could on his thick shaft, your actions conveying what words couldn’t.
The effect was immediate. His head fell back against the pillow, a low moan escaping him as his free hand gripped the fabric beneath him.
“God, you’re incredible,” he said, his voice rough. “That pretty face of yours, how will I last?”
You couldn’t help but smile with his cock buried in your throat, your movements continued, now slower and purposeful as you went up and down. His breathing grew heavier, and his hand in your hair tightened slightly as he struggled to maintain composure.
“You’re too good,” he managed, his voice breaking slightly. “I—”
Before he could finish, the coil in him snapped, and his praises were replaced with a low, drawn out moan of relief. You swallowed the ropes of hot cum, watching as he tried to catch his breath, his gaze locking with yours almost immediately.
“You’re perfect,” he said, his tone full of affection and disbelief. He reached out to cup your face, pulling you closer until his lips pressed against yours, savoring the taste of himself on your lips.
Your confidence emboldened by the way he looked at you with dazed, lust filled eyes. His hands still rested on your waist, fingers brushing your skin as you leaned into him, your voice soft but teasing.
“Can I ride you?” you asked, pussy aching for him.
His lips curved into a smile, his thumbs drawing slow circles on your hips. “Anything you want, princess,” he murmured.
You bit your lip as you shifted, settling over his hard cock with a nervous laugh that he silenced by cupping your cheek. “Take your time,” he said.
When you finally sank down onto his length, his hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding you with a steady rhythm that sent shivers down your spine. The quiet moan he let out made you even wetter, and you instinctively leaned forward, resting your hands on his chest for balance.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough but filled with admiration. “You ride me so well, just like that.”
His praises made you bolder, and you bounced on his cock with more confidence, your breathing shallow as he let his hands roam, one sliding up to gently cup your tits. The warmth of his touch made you bite back a moan and his eyes darkened as he noticed.
“You’ve got to be quiet pretty girl,” he whispered, his hands still steadying you. “Think you can do that?”
You nodded quickly, though the feeling building inside you made it harder with every moment. His grip on your hips tightened, and he thrusted up into you, the two of you finding a rhythm that made it impossible to focus on anything but how he stretched your pussy. He was so big, your pussy was sure to remember the shape of his cock after you were done.
“I want to cum with you,” you admitted breathlessly, leaning down so your lips were close to his ear. “Inside me.”
Young-il’s breath hitched, his eyes meeting yours with pure lust. A slow smirk spread across his face. “Beg for it,” he whispered.
Your cheeks burned, but the desire in his gaze made you bold. “Please,” you murmured, leaning closer. “I want you to cum with me. Please.”
He groaned softly, his hands gripping your hips even tighter. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice unsteady. “Just hold on to me.”
The pleasure between you reached its peak as his praises and your whispered pleas filled the air. When the release finally came, it was almost overwhelming, and you buried your face against his neck to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. His hands held you firmly in place as he came with you, cum spurting inside you while you soaked his cock, his breaths ragged but filled with relief.
“You’re amazing,” he murmured after a long pause, brushing stray strands of hair from your face. His gaze softened as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You couldn’t help but smile, your heart racing as you settled against him. “So are you,” you whispered back, letting the moment linger in the quiet comfort of his embrace.
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cosmosluckycharms · 2 months ago
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Bug Like Angel
pt5
Animal noises
hey guys warning might be ooc cause i am writing this half asleep
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"SHOOT- I'M LATE AGAIN!"
You had band practice with the others today
Why are you always late?
You promised them, and you accidentally slept through your alarm. Again.
You forgot Lyla was down for today too, she was focused solely on the anomalies today, so she couldn't wake you up.
Shit.
You scrambled around in your room getting ready for the day.
You put on your clothes and quickly do your hair.
You tried looking for your guitar and forgot you left it downstairs.
You ran downstairs and almost tripped.
You stopped when you saw everyone eating breakfast at the table.
Without you.
It made you less mad that they were together without you, you were used to them being together without you.
It made you sad how you never even realized.
"..You guys have been having breakfast together? Without me?"
They all went silent. You could see the guilty looks on their faces. As soon as Dick opened his mouth to talk, you shut them up.
"Why would you even-" You stopped yourself, you had things to do. "You know what? This is a problem for future y/n."
You grabbed your keys and put it in your bag while you ran around trying to finish getting ready.
"Alfred, I'm gonna be gone till later, I promised my friends I'm gonna be at band practice"
You ran into the bathroom to finish brushing your teeth.
"Also if one of them shows up at the door, please let them in! Hobie's my ride today!" You called out from inside the bathroom
"Alright, young miss." you heard Alfred say from the kitchen.
You did your makeup quickly and put on your shoes.
You grabbed your bag that had your guitar picks inside, along with some essentials like money, a hairbrush, makeup, etc.
You just needed your phone, which you had left in the kitchen.
As soon as you run out of the bathroom and into the dining room you get jumpscared.
"Boo." Hobie jumped, scaring you.
You screamed before play hitting him
Okay, screw you too, spidey-senses!
While you explained to Hobie you were almost done getting ready, you could slightly feel the others glaring at you and Hobie.
it wasn't them trying to figure him out,it was them judging him.
Damian couldn't understand, why were you hanging out with someone like him?! He's too punk and crazy looking, it's so dumb you were excited to hang out with him.
He snapped out of it as soon as he saw you and Hobie about to exit the manor.
He was about to demand to know where you were going, but suddenly as soon as you were about to walk out the door, you felt Hobie pull on the back of the collar of your shirt.
"Hm?" you asked Hobie
"Don't you think you're missing something, Tinkerbell?" Hobie asked, pointing to your back.
"what do you mean? I have everything, I think. I have my lipgloss and everything.." you started rambling to yourself for a bit, checking the mental checklist you had for yourself.
After a few moments, you realize you thought you had your guitar with you!
You did not!
You ran to grab it, everyone looking at you both.
You grabbed your guitar and said bye to everyone.
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Jason does not like Hobie.
He didn't even get to introduce himself to your family.
He straight up ignored all of them, besides Alfred, to see you!
He didn't like how excited you were to just be around him.
He didn't like how naturally you guys play fought like siblings.
He didn't like how close you guys seemed.
He didn't like how he walked around like he's been here before.
He didn't like how he had a nickname for you.
He needed to know who this guy was.
But how?
He followed you both to your practice. While dressed in a red hood.
Oops.
He watches as you both get into your car and go to a place to practice music.He sees a tiny 12-year-old girl with short black hair playing electric guitar, like you.
He sees a blonde girl with half her hair of hair shaved off getting her guitar ready while talking a curly haired boy with big doe eyes.
He sees the boy next to her getting his keyboard ready while awkwardly flirting with the girl.
He sees a boy with stupidly luscious hair getting the amps up and ready.
He can see them all getting slightly anxious, he assumes it's because of you being late.
He didn't know its because they could all sense someone watching them.
Finally, you and Hobie walk in and immediately feel the presence.
You text Miguel that you feel a tiny bit anxious and send him your location.
Better safe than sorry!
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After an hour or two of playing, you all decide to sit down and take a break.
The feeling someone was watching you was still there, it just died down the slightest bit.
After a while, Pavitr finally spoke up.
"Am I the only one feeling that someone watching us?"
Immediately you all said different variants of yes.
It was so strange, why would anyone watch you guys?
You assumed it was maybe a kid on the street who was listening to your music, but that didn't explain your spidey senses going off.
As soon as you were about to talk about it, all your spidey senses went off, and someone popped up in front of you.
Red Hood, or your brother, Jason Todd.
Immediately everyone got up and gave you knowing glances.
Sure, you never told anyone about your family's identities, but technically everybody in the spiderverse and their moms knew.
Something about you being a mix of two multi-verses.
"Woah! No need to get so defensive!" Red Hood said, putting his hands up.
"why are you here?" you asked, glaring at him dead in the eyes. Well, he was wearing a mask so you looked at him where his eyes were supposed to be.
"Can't someone drop by for a visit? You guys were great, by the way," he said. You weren't sure what he wanted.
At this point, you had Peni hidden behind you. Sure, he wouldn't ever do anything to any kid, but it was a force of habit you had to protect her.
You didn't notice Hobie slowly moving beside you to protect you if anything happened.
"Welp, I just came in to check on regular civilians, nothing wrong with that," he smirked. he knew he was getting under your skin.
"well, it's a good thing we don't need help. Goodbye." you shooed him away like he had done multiple times to you.
He scoffed and left.
You all let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.
It was getting late anyway. You should all start packing up and go out someplace to eat.
It was your turn to choose which place to go, and you immediately chose Batburger.
As soon as you all ordered and sat down, you all immediately started talking about why Red Hood popped by.
Your friends all knew about the neglect from everyone, no one understood why they were here.
Why now?
The topics changed throughout everything, from school drama to plans for the future, to plans for future hangouts.
Everything was great, you all grabbed your meals and were eating the mountain of food you guys ordered.
"I'm telling you, the food in my universe is so much better!" Miles argued with you.
"it's so not! It's greasy!" You argued back
"like batburger isn't?" Miles smirked, you both played arguing.
You gasped dramatically. "YOU TAKE THAT BACK!" you play slapped Miles.
"LISTEN DINGBAT I SAID-" Miles rudely pointed his finger in your face.
"GET YOUR FINGER OUT OF MY FACE!" You and Miles started throwing fries at each other's faces, everyone else at the table laughing at how stupid you guys are.
Suddenly, your spidey senses went slightly off. Not enough for you and Miles to notice, but the others stopped laughing.
You didn't understand until you heard a very familiar voice.
"Is there a problem here?" You looked up and saw your other brother, Dick, looking at you guys with his stupid signature smile.
The same smile that made the hairs on your neck stand up.
Immediately you and Miles straightened up. Not in fear, but because you didn't want him to see you enjoying yourself.
"No, Richard."
You see him flinch at the use of his full name and not his nickname. His smile slightly faltered, but not enough for anyone other than you to notice.
"All alright then." he started walking away and you noticed behind him were your other siblings, Tim and Damian.
Shit.
You needed to get out of here.
Gwen immediately noticed you looking slightly panicky and immediately started holding your hand to calm you down.
It worked.
Everyone looked at each other, almost to say "Let's go."
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You all left and decided to go to a park to calm down.
You all lay down on the grass in quiet. It was nice.
You don't mind doing anything with them, as long as you are together.
You wish you could stay in this moment forever.
After a while, you and Peni ended up falling asleep.
Noir came and picked up Peni.
Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr had to go home to their respective universes.
Hobie took and carried you home, there's no way he was gonna leave you lying in the middle of Gotham at night.
He made sure to carry everything you had with you into the manor.
Alfred let Hobie in as soon as he saw you being carried by him.
As soon as he got inside, Jason offered to carry you to your room, but Hobie had already started walking toward's it.
"Nah, sorry mate. She's knackered right now and moving her around might make her go mad."
As soon as he got to your room, he dropped you off on your bed took off your shoes and tucked you into bed, kissing you on the forehead, something that he's done to all the spider kids as a form of affection.
As soon as he went downstairs, he started getting questioned by everyone there.
"Who are you?" asked Damian.
"Wouldn't you like to know, weather-boy?" Hobie teased.
"Why is she so attached to you?!" Asked Jason.
"I ain't got a scooby doo," Hobie replied.
Soon, the questions turned into everyone yelling at Hobie for no reason.
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You woke up from the commotion.
You went downstairs to see Hobie having a serious face.
That was not a good sign.
You kept walking further until you were on the same floor as everyone else.
"What's going on?" you asked rather meekly.
No one heard, so you spoke louder.
"What's going on?"
Still, no one heard, so you had no choice but to yell.
"WHAT IS GOING ON?!"
Everyone stopped to look at you. Everyone but Hobie was surprised to see you speak that loudly. They weren't used to you using that tone.
Everything was silent and tense for a moment.
"Well? is anyone gonna say anything or are you all gonna act stupid?" You were cranky. You needed a nap.
"We don't want you hanging around those guys anymore." your father, Bruce said.
"I don't care. I still am gonna be with them," you said.
"You don't have a choice," Damian added, agreeing with his father.
"Well nothing is stopping me, I'll still see them," you replied, glaring at Bruce.
"You're under my roof. You can make your own decisions when you aren't living here." Bruce said, rather mad you won't be obident.
"Maybe I don't want to live under your roof..." you muttered, thinking no one would hear.
"What was that?" you heard Dick say, clearly expecting you to crumble and apologize.
"Maybe I don't wanna live under your roof!" you turn to look at Hobie. He looks proud.
"Then leave." you hear Tim say.
"All alright." you start walking to your room to pack your essentials.
Everyone suddenly looks shocked. They weren't expecting that. You felt Hobie put a hand on your shoulder and help you pack. You grab your phone and see you never replied to Miguel's texts where he asked if you're okay.
You reply to him and tell him you're alright. You ask him if you can stay at his apartment because of family problems.
He immediately replies and says yes.
You finish packing up and go downstairs.
You didn't say bye to anyone as you left.
You went to a random abandoned building to use your bracelet to make a portal to Miguel's universe.
Hobie tagged along, to keep you safe.
As soon as he saw Miguel take you inside, he waved bye and went to his universe.
As soon as you got inside, you broke down.
Over how tired you are, over how your family treated you, and how you just wanted a hug.
You fell asleep hugging Miguel that night
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hi guys this is kinda bad but like idk i might make a fluffy oneshot of the spiderkids js hanging out cause reader deserves a break idk
tags (please let me know if i missed anyone!): @bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n
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kashverse · 3 months ago
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sukuna does not believe in meditation. he doesn’t need it. why the hell would he? he’s the king of the corporate world, an adult, a man. he doesn’t need to sit around, close his eyes, and breathe. except today. because today? today has been absolute bullshit.
his idiot of a finance director nearly lost a multi-million deal, the company’s stocks dipped because some fucker spread false rumors about them on social media, and—oh, the cherry on top—some guy on his legal team apparently didn’t know what an NDA was. so here he is. standing in the pinkest fucking room on the planet.
the walls are covered in stickers and drawings that he’s been forbidden from taking down. shelves are lined with an army of sonny angels and labubus, their beady little eyes watching his every move like silent judges. and at the center of it all, sitting criss-cross applesauce with the air of a messiah, is his five-year-old daughter. she looks up at him, face blank.
"…you look grumpy."
sukuna sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "yeah, yeah. look—" he groans. "—teach me that stupid balloon thing."
his daughter gasps. "papa! it’s not stupid!"
"yeah, okay, whatever, just do it."
"say it’s not stupid first."
sukuna grits his teeth. "it’s not stupid."
"say it nicely."
he closes his eyes for a brief moment before exhaling sharply. "it’s. not. stupid."
"good!" she beams. "okay, papa. sit!"
sukuna lowers himself onto the plush pink carpet, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees. "like this?"
"mhm!" she nods. "now, close your eyes."
he grumbles but does it. "okay," she starts, voice soft and gentle, like she’s leading a spiritual retreat.
"now, papa, you have to imagine your tummy is a balloon."
sukuna cracks one eye open. "my what?"
"your tummy," she repeats firmly. "imagine it’s a balloon, papa. every time you breathe in, the balloon gets bigger. every time you breathe out, the balloon gets smaller."
sukuna’s brow twitches.
"papa," she warns. "do it properly." he exhales through his nose. "fine."
so he inhales—deeply—filling his lungs, trying to visualize his absurdly defined torso turning into a fucking balloon. and then exhales. inhale. balloon gets big. exhale. balloon gets small.
…okay.
…not bad.
"see?" his daughter chirps. "it’s good, right?" sukuna opens one eye.
"…it’s not terrible."
his daughter huffs. "say it’s good, papa."
"it’s good, papa."
"papa!"
he smirks. "what? you said to say it."
his daughter glares at him. "do another balloon breath before i tell mama you’re not listening." sukuna groans but obeys, exhaling deeply. he swears the labubus on the shelf look pleased.
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accioharrington9 · 4 months ago
Text
we can't be friends (but i'd like to just pretend)
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
prompt: four times you spent a holiday with your best friend Steve Harrington and one time you didn't and missed him.
word count: 10.2k
warnings: friends-to-lovers, everyone can see it (including steve and reader but they're both kind of in denial), mutual pining, characters in their mid-twenties, fluff and (some) emotional angst, steve uses a cheesy nickname for reader, mentions of partying and alcohol consumption, some swearing, no use of y/n
notes: hi all, this is the first reader fic that i publish here, so bear with me, i tried my best <3 in light of the year-end celebrations, this fun little idea of a fic came to me and i decided to give it a shot, so i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3
🥂🥂🥂
“What are your resolutions for the new year?”
You looked up from your glass of champagne when Steve asked you that question out of the blue. You were both leaning against the kitchen island at Nancy and Jonathan’s apartment, distractedly observing your friends playing a drinking game you had both stepped out of.  You were glad to allow your friends their fun, but mostly, to have a reason to get some alone time, just the two of you. A silent agreement, as always.
“You know I don’t believe in resolutions,” you answered before bringing a flute smudged by your red lipstick to your lips.
“Oh, come on, kitten, humor me for a second.”
You raised an eyebrow at him while he waited for your response with a cheeky smile. You heard Robin burst into laughter from the living room, but you were too focused on Steve’s loose strand of hair and the woody scent of his new cologne to acknowledge it.
“Fine,” you obliged him. “Well, I resolve to quit drinking coffee, exercise more, and buy a new and well-functioning car.”
“You’re full of shit,” Steve laughed. “Like you’re ever going to get rid of Gina.”
“Of course I’m not getting rid of Gina, she’s my ride-or-die,” you said, referring to your personified old car.
“Yeah, emphasis on ‘die’ – you're missing a rearview mirror in there.”
You nudged him playfully, briefly losing your balance but Steve helped steady you immediately, putting a hand on your hips that hovered there longer than necessary. You chuckled for good measure but couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face.
Everyone knew you and Steve had a thing for each other. It had been that way since high school – lingering looks in the hallway between classes, overly tactile during a mundane conversation, pretending to forget something at the other’s house to have a reason to go there again… Everyone knew it, was used to it, and never mentioned anything about it – you and Steve included.
Nothing had ever happened because the timing was always off. If it wasn’t Steve who was dating someone, you were; then you moved away to go to college, and when you came back to Hawkins after graduating, Steve had just left for an internship in New York. Eventually, you grew tired of the never-ending “what-ifs” and made your peace knowing that Steve Harrington would always be more than just a friend but less than a lover. A fine line you both tiptoed in and out of too much over the past eight years.
“What about you?” you eventually asked Steve. “You’re corny as shit, you must have a lot of them resolutions in mind.”
“I only thought of a couple, and they’re not that corny.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
Steve laughed again, running a hand through his hair as he reflected on what he’d say. You admired him while he did so. It was frustrating, still having that teenage crush on your longtime friend, not being able to let it go, not entirely at least. You sometimes wished you could be his friend the way Robin was to him, or Eddie was to you. It would make it all so much easier, so much less painful than this in two minds you were both stuck in, this blatant desire for more, this fear that it could all be ruined in seconds, poor decisions fragmenting the illusion of a blissful friendship.
“I thought about learning how to play the guitar.”
“Cliché,” you teased. “What else?”
You could see the turn the conversation had taken when Steve hesitated before talking – looked nervous, even.
“Moving out. Getting my own place.”
You stared at Steve, quiet. You couldn’t say you were surprised – he’d been roommates with Eddie since they both enrolled in community college a few years ago. Even after graduating and getting a job, they stayed that way, because it was simple; splitting the bills, having someone to talk to after a lonely day. But it could only work for so long. It was only a matter of time until one or the other got bored and needed a change of scenery. To you, it was no surprise Steve had that revelation first.
“You sound serious,” was the only comment you could express.
“Because I am,” Steve said. “I started looking at one-bedroom apartments to rent in the neighborhood.”
“Does Eddie know?” you asked.
Steve pursed his lips as he shook his head from left to right. You hummed and couldn’t help but look at the young man in question, with his curly hair tied back in a bun and his poor imitation of some football player his team had to guess the name of. You loved this friend group – you loved the dynamic, the hijinks, and the stability. You loved hanging out with Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan at Eddie and Steve's apartment. You loved everything about it and the thought of losing your bearings, of disrupting your habits, made you too sad for the 31st of December, five minutes away from another midnight of confetti, embraces, and promises.
“You’re the first person I told,” Steve eventually said, breaking the silence that had settled between you two. “I thought you could share some of that wisdom you have to advise me.”
You snorted, lazily knocking your shoulder against his arm. “You buttering up to me, Harrington?”
“Only if it’s working.”
You got lost in his beautiful brown eyes, aware of the subtlest things, like his pinky finger brushing your hand timidly, the mint toothpaste on his breath, or how perfectly he wore the sweater you gifted him. It felt so right, standing close to him and toying with the possibility of the unknown. It always did with Steve.
“Okay guys, it’s officially one minute away from midnight, gather ‘round!!” Nancy exclaimed, clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention.
Reluctantly, you left the little bubble of peace and happiness you had created in the kitchen, Steve following closely behind. As you started counting down from ten, surrounded by all your closest and dearest friends, you only had eyes for Steve.
It had become a habit since you first celebrated New Year’s Eve with him years ago – you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d kiss you at midnight. It was a fantasy you’d entertained ever since you were eighteen, the final and first thought of each year that passed without ever becoming real. Each year, naively, you thought it’d be different. But each year, it was the same old song all over again.
As the clock struck midnight and cheers erupted among the friend group, you hugged everyone. You saved the best ‘til last, heart beating frantically as Steve wrapped his arms around you. You buried your face in his neck, getting drunk on his cologne – pathetic, disillusioned.
“Happy New Year, kitten,” Steve whispered in your ear before kissing your cheek – soft, tender, and terribly platonic, as usual.
“Happy New Year, Harrington,” you kissed his cheek in return, the trace of your lipstick leaving a mark on his skin like a temporary tattoo.
And you were too busy thinking about the undone to notice that this year, Steve held you in his arms a little longer than usual.
🌹🌹🌹
“Bro-lentine’s Day?”
“Is that one of those boys band they keep talking about on the radio?"
You held back a laugh at Steve’s question and Eddie’s comment regarding the odd suggestion Robin had just made. The four of you were waiting in line at a Wendy's drive-thru in Steve’s car, the crescent moon shining its feeble light in the night sky above.
“Why would you even think about spending Valentine’s Day with your loser single friends when you have a beautiful girlfriend you could shower with gifts?” Eddie asked, to which Steve, behind the wheel, concurred immediately.
“I mean, I obviously love you guys, but I mostly suggest that because Vickie’s working a night shift on the 14th and I figured it’d be nice to hang out together, the four of us, instead of just… I don’t know, being alone?” Robin admitted.
“Oh, so we’re your stand-ins?” Eddie exclaimed, feigning offense under your amused attention. “Classy, Buckley.”
“That sounds a hell of a lot like a pity party, Rob,” Steve pointed out.
You laughed along as Robin kept putting her foot in her mouth. It was often like that – Robin and Eddie gently bickering in the back seats while you exchanged knowing looks with Steve, in your designated seat at the front of the car.
The only difference was this time, when Steve searched for your eyes to have a silent laugh with you, you avoided his gaze, pretending to look in the distance, thinking about something you needed to say to him but couldn’t find the courage to.
“Okay, fine,” Eddie eventually yielded. “Let’s do this thing. But I have one condition – we go to Steve’s new apartment.”
“Excellent idea!” Robin exclaimed, enthusiastic.
“I told you guys, I’m not done unboxing my stuff, the place is a mess,” Steve argued as he started the ignition to move forward.
Robin rolled her eyes. “You say that like you have a thousand boxes.”
“It's his plethora of hair products - they take up a lot of room,” Eddie teased, which made Robin snort.
“You’re both hilarious, seriously, I can’t stop laughing,” Steve said with a straight face.
“So, it’s a deal,” Eddie said. “Bro-lentine’s Day at Steve’s new place – no, I’m sorry Rob, you’ll have to find another name, I hate how it sounds when it comes out of my mouth.”
“What do you think, babes?”
You only focused back on the conversation when Robin called your name, looking away from the constellations in the sky.
“Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry babes but count me out of this one,” you said with a sorry smile.
Robin laughed, thinking you were probably messing with her. Steve was driving slowly now that the line ahead finally seemed to clear.
“Right, because you have something better to do on Valentine’s Day, of course,” Robin joked while Eddie chuckled.
You tried not to take offense because you knew it was some innocent banter, but it didn’t stop you from frowning.
“Actually, yes, I do,” you contradicted. “I have a date that day.”
The car braked abruptly, causing a blast of horns from the vehicle behind and surprised yelps from the back seats.
“What the fuck, Harrington??” Eddie ranted. “That’s why I keep telling you you’re a shit driver, seriously, how did you manage to get your license, man?"
“Sorry, I got… distracted for a sec’,” Steve apologized.
You couldn’t bear to look Steve in the eye, so you toyed with the bracelets around your wrists and stared at your shoes, waiting for your friends’ reaction to the news.
“Is it someone we know?” Robin asked bluntly. “It’s the cute guy from the music shop at the mall, isn’t it? I knew he had a crush on you, you’re the only one who got Like a Prayer for half price.”
“It was… actually a twenty-percent discount,” you corrected, even though none of your friends cared about that information.
“Who even asks someone out on Valentine’s Day?” Eddie asked himself out loud. “We have three hundred and sixty-five days a year, why choose this nightmare of a commercialized day deliberately?”
“I think it’s cute,” Robin shrugged.
You attempted a smile, but it was nowhere near convincing. Robin and Eddie weren’t even paying attention to you anymore, discussing with each other the pros and cons of a first date on the 14th of February. You gathered the courage to look at Steve, decipher his expression. He might’ve been trying to get your attention a moment ago, but now, he was just staring in front of him, both hands firmly holding the lower part of the wheel.
“So, you’re really going to abandon me with these two idiots, huh?”
Your laugh at Steve’s rhetorical question was a mix of amusement and relief. If there was one thing that meant more than anything to you, it was the harmony between you two. You knew that as soon as you or Steve dated someone, that harmony was threatened. It had happened before. It was a fatality.
“You’ll be just fine,” you assured softly. “It’s just one night.”
Steve chuckled, finally making it to the pickup window. “Yeah, you’re right. Just one night. Easy-peasy.”
At that moment, you couldn’t have imagined that on the 14th of February, you’d find yourself knocking on Steve’s door at ten in the evening, makeup ruined by your disappointed tears, holding tight to your coat and shame in the cold evening air.
When Steve opened the door and saw you standing before him, he blinked at the unexpected sight of you sniffing and shivering.
“What are you doing here, kitten? Is everything okay?”
As soon as you heard Steve’s voice and the concern he displayed, it was out of your control – another tear rolled down your cheek.
“Oh no. Come here.”
You didn’t need to be asked twice- when Steve opened his arms at you, you dived in, letting him hug you tight, accepting his warmth and empathy.
“Dude stood you up?” Steve asked, voice muffled as his face was buried in your hair.
“Worse,” you said. “He was there.”
Steve huffed, because it could’ve been a funny anecdote if not for the dried mascara that ran under your eyes.
“So, we’re not going to the music shop again, huh?”
“I never said it was the guy from the music shop,” you pointed out.
“You never denied it either.”
You snorted and you felt Steve smile against your head. He was the first to part from your embrace, but you were under the impression he could’ve stayed like that much longer.
“What’s taking so long, dingus?” Robin shouted from the living room. “You need help with the pizzas?”
“It’s not the pizzas,” Steve retorted as you stepped inside the apartment.
Both Robin and Eddie turned around on the couch and looked equally surprised to see you there.
“Is it okay if I crash Bro-lentine’s Day?” you asked sheepishly.
“We’re not calling it that!” Eddie said in a singsong.
“You’re more than welcome to crash Bro-lentine’s Day, babes,” Robin told you while wrapping her arm around your shoulders as you sat next to her.
“I give up,” Eddie sighed before heading for the kitchen.
“What did the loser do to get you like that?” Robin inquired, touching your face where the tears had dried.
“Honestly, he wasn’t even that bad,” you explained. “He just… wasn’t what I expected. I guess I’m tired of getting my hopes up and ending up disappointed every time.” You paused, reflecting on that state of mind. “It’s stupid, I know.”
“It’s not stupid,” Robin contradicted with a sympathetic smile. “It’s Valentine’s Day, anyone would’ve expected a perfect date.”
“Hence why you don’t date on that doomed day.”
“Can’t you just let it go already, Eddie??”
You smiled softly at your friends’ innocent quarrel, and you realized in the end, there were no other people you’d rather spend the day of love and romance with.
So, you settled comfortably on the couch in Steve’s new apartment, surrounded by dozens of wrapped boxes and your closest friends with a glass of wine and a cheesy movie to watch, sharing the details of your date with them.
“Well, his loss, darling, not yours,” Eddie said in conclusion to your story.
“Definitely,” Robin nodded.
You smiled lightly and you thought maybe, just maybe, they were right.
“Why are you smiling like that, Harrington?” Eddie then asked.
“Hmm? Oh, no reason,” Steve answered casually before finding a tiny spot between you and Robin on the couch.
🎉🎉🎉
There was nothing more frustrating than being late to meet your friends and having your car’s engine make that hideous sputtering sound as you kept putting the key in the ignition without it ever starting.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you echoed in sync with the car’s noises.
“I see Gina’s being cranky today.”
You glared at Steve, sitting in the passenger seat and enjoying himself a little too much.
“It’s too hot outside, she doesn’t like it when it’s too hot,” you explained to yourself more than Steve.
“It’s the 4th of July, kitten. It’s always hot on the 4th of July.”
“Thank you so much for this enlightening forecast, Harrington, have you ever considered a career in meteorology?”
You bit your lip when you realized how harsh your comeback had sounded. You slowly turned your head to lay regretful eyes on your friend.
“Sorry,” you winced.
“You’re good. I think I know why Gina’s cranky today – she takes from her owner.”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t bother denying it.
The sun was starting to set in a sky adorned with pink and orange hues only summer could take credit for. The air was hot, crickets chirping and bees buzzing while the whole town was already busying itself in preparation for the incoming festivities.
For the past six years, on Independence Day, you’ve met all your friends by the lake on the outskirts of Hawkins to have a barbecue with beers and watch the fireworks. It was a tradition you all honored religiously each Fourth of July.
Except this year, Robin was celebrating with Vickie’s family, Eddie was working at the music camp, which meant you were spending the evening with Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve, a group hangout that looked an awful lot like a double date, and it worked yourself up into quite a state.
“Did you get the Buds?” you asked Steve as the ignition still wouldn’t start.
“Packs in the trunk,” Steve answered straight off.
“And the blankets?”
“In the backseat.”
“The radio for the music?”
“Nance’s taking care of it.”
You fell back in your seat after failing one too many times to start the car and just closed your eyes, sighing heavily. You wiped your hands on your shorts, the summer heat getting the best of you, chest heaving and patience hanging by a thread.
“We can take my car tonight, maybe Gina needs the rest,” Steve suggested. It irritated you even more.
“We always take your car, tonight’s the one night a year we take mine,” you argued, putting the keys in the ignition again.
“We’ll take yours another time, then, it’s no big deal.”
“No,” you just said.
Without a heads-up, you got out of the vehicle. Steve followed you as you opened the hood to check the engine. You were rough in your endeavor, hair falling out on your face and hands quickly stained with oil.
“Why are you being so stubborn today?” Steve asked you, tone cutting sharp like a knife.
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are! You can tell as much as I can your car’s not going anywhere tonight, mine’s parked right behind and ready to go, so why are we losing time for nothing?”
“She’s just being picky right now but I’m getting there. She needs a little boost and she’s good to go,” you insisted, wiping the back of your hand on your forehead before realizing it’d smudge the oil.
“Yeah, sure, at this rate, she’ll be good to go for Thanksgiving,” Steve said ironically.
You shut the hood close abruptly, shooting daggers at Steve as he stood in front of you with his arms crossed. He looked just as irritated as you did.
“You’re being an asshole,” you stated matter-of-factly.
Steve snickered, eyebrows raising like he couldn’t believe what he just heard.
“Oh, I’m the asshole in this situation? You’re a fine one to talk!”
“Are you seriously turning the tables on me right now?!”
“I’m not, you’re clearly in a mood today and you’re taking it out on me! Last I heard, I’m not a punching bag!”
Your face twisted into a scowl because Steve annoyed you a great deal, but mostly because he was right. You were far from being good company today, and today was meant to be fun, chill, eventful. You could blame it all on Gina, but you knew that was just the tip of the iceberg.
“I’m just saying I’m going to get the car started just fine, all I need is a few minutes to figure it out. And we’re already late anyway, they won’t hate us for the extra ten minutes,” you said as you opened the hood again.
“This is not about the car and we both know it,” Steve stated, sure of himself. Of course, he was – he knew you like the back of his hand.
You closed the hood as soon as you opened it, walking closer to Steve to face him properly.
“Maybe you should take it easy if you want her to work, you know,” Steve remarked.
“Why don’t you just say what’s on my mind, Steve? Since you apparently know it better than I do,” you hit him with your words.
“But that’s just the thing! I don’t!” Steve exclaimed, his voice raising an octave. “I don’t know what’s going on with you right now and you won’t tell me a goddamn thing!”
“You already know what’s going on with me, I made it perfectly clear – I want my fucking car to start so we can go and meet our friends, as we do every year!”
“And I made it perfectly clear that we can take my car, so why are we still arguing about this??”
“Because it’s the way things are supposed to be!!”
The silence that followed that revelation felt intrusive. You couldn’t wait for Steve to tell you off, to argue with you some more, but instead, he didn’t say another word and just stared at you, dumbfounded. It allowed you to reflect on your behavior of the past ten minutes and you immediately dropped your eyes to look at your shoes, ashamed.
“What do you mean?” Steve asked you then, voice softer.
You sighed and looked in the distance, avoiding his gaze.
“It’s the tradition. On the 4th of July, you come to my place to help me pack everything, we take my car to pick up Eddie and Robin on the way to the lake, we meet Nance and Jonathan there, then, you and Eddie set the barbecue while Jonathan and I take care of the music, and Nance and Robin lay the blankets to make us cozy. And we eat and drink until they shoot the fireworks from downtown – it’s how the day is supposed to go.”
“Right, and it’s how it’s going to go today,” Steve assured, confused.
“No, it’s not. Rob and Eddie are not there this year, and because of Gina, we’re late and missing out on the sunset.” You paused, taking a breath. “It’s what I look forward to the most. Watching the sunset on the lake with you guys. All of you.”
Steve relaxed his shoulders and breathed out like he finally made sense of the underlying problem. He stepped closer to you and his hand cupped your face, willing you to look him in the eyes.
“Okay, I’m going to take a wild guess and assume it has something to do with Nancy and Jonathan talking about moving to Chicago next year for Nancy’s job,” Steve said. “Am I boiling or getting colder?”
The rhetorical question elicited a weak smile on your lips.
“I know Chicago’s not that far from Hawkins, but… I like the way things are right now, you know?” you explained while Steve listened, nodding. “I like that we can hang out whenever we want to, show up unannounced at each other’s place, and whatnot.”
“You can still do that if they move to Chicago. It’ll just take you more than three hours to get there,” he teased you.
Steve did it – he made you laugh. “I’m not so sure Gina would survive the trip.”
“I’ll let you borrow my car, then,” Steve whispered, and even though you were bantering, it sounded like a promise.
You chuckled, the knot in your stomach coming undone as Steve put his thumb to your forehead, stroking where you had wiped the oil stain earlier.
“You look like shit,” he told you unceremoniously.
“And you’re a shitty friend,” you bit back, making you both smile.
Friend. The denomination never felt strong enough to define what you and Steve meant to one another. Yet, it was the only one you used, the only one that brought you comfort, especially in those blurry moments that kept you wondering why that boy had always been so sweet and kind to you, even when you felt undeserving.
You jumped at the sound of a car honking from the street, bringing you back to reality as you and Steve turned your heads to see what happened. You felt amused, and somehow relieved when you saw Nancy popping her head out the passenger window of Jonathan’s car like a beautifully staged interruption.
“Oh my God, you guys are late too?” Nancy shouted at them. “I told Jonathan to go over the speed limit, and as you can imagine, he was not happy about it.”
Steve laughed, and you followed suit because it was almost ridiculous, how perfect the situation had turned out. Sure, things felt different this year, with winds of change impending, and the future of your friend group unclear. But at least, you were all on the same page.
“While we’re here, get in the car with us!” Nancy offered, gesturing for you to come closer. “Maybe we can still catch the sunset.”
You exchanged an amused look with Steve, silently agreeing that your uncooperative car and your latest conversation would remain a secret you’d share only between you. Your friends didn’t need to know the reason why you were late.
So, you and Steve hurried to put everything in Jonathan’s car, climbed in the backseat, and made it to the lake just in time to admire the remnant of sunset and put everything into place to wait for the fireworks.
And as you put a blanket over your and Nancy’s shoulders, the fire crackling in the quiet of the evening around you, you couldn’t help but search for Steve’s eyes. He was already looking at you, sitting across the fire next to Jonathan. You smiled when you realized, and he winked at you, playful, secretive.
Maybe you were lying to yourself, in the end. Maybe you didn’t mean it when you said you liked things the way they were. Maybe there was one thing you wouldn’t mind changing, you thought as you looked away from Steve to look up at the fireworks now erupting in the sky above.
🎃🎃🎃
“I’m not sure I get it, Robin – who are you dressed as?”
“Are you seriously asking me that question, Nance? Marty McFly? Don’t tell me you still haven’t watched Back to the Future!”
“I didn’t have time.”
“In five years, you didn’t have time to watch a two-hour movie?”
“I work a lot, okay?!”
You were only half-listening to Robin and Nancy’s bickering as you finished getting ready for the Halloween party that your high school classmate Tina and her best friend Vicki Carmichael threw every year.
Usually, on the 31st of October, you would just crash at Steve and Eddie’s former apartment with the group, stuffing your face with popcorn and watching horror movies. But this year, the boys didn’t live at that apartment anymore and it was the last Halloween you’d all spend together in Hawkins before Jonathan and Nancy moved to Chicago next January. You all agreed it called for a memorable celebration, hence why you were now getting ready with the girls at your place.
“So, you mean to tell me you haven’t had time to watch Back to the Future, but you had it to watch all three Star Wars movies, judging on your costume?” Robin asked while Nancy grunted in frustration.
“I told you last week, me and Jonathan are wearing couple’s costumes – he’s Han Solo and I’m Princess Leia, obviously,” she explained while pointing at her long white dress and peculiar hairstyle.
“Couple’s costumes,” Robin repeated. “Kids these days, they’re just talking nonsense.”
“It’s romantic and fun, you’re just jealous you didn’t think about it for you and Vickie,” Nancy retorted as you were starting to think you were in the middle of playground taunts.
“Oh yeah, I should’ve asked Vickie to dress as Doc, it would’ve been crazy romantic,” Robin sassed.
Once the heels were at your feet, you turned around on your chair to stare at your friends.
“You two realize how stupid your fight is, right?” you chipped in.
“We’re not fighting,” Robin and Nancy said in unison.
You rolled your eyes and turned back around to face your vanity and finish your makeup, but it was too late – you had involuntarily drawn the attention to you.
“And who are you dressing as, hot stuff?” Nancy cooed while smirking at your reflection in the mirror.
You hummed the Dirty Dancing theme song to answer her question, and she nodded approvingly, taking in your pink dress and silver heels.
“I love it,” Nancy smiled.
“Thanks,” you said as you stood up. “And you two look equally great, so stop biting each other’s heads off.”
“So, if you’re Jennifer Grey, does it mean Steve’s dressing as Patrick Swayze? I could see him pulling that off.”
Robin’s question took you aback for it came out of nowhere. You gaped at her, face warm and thoughts racing.
“Hmm, no, he’s not. That’d… be a great couple’s costume, for sure. But we’re not a couple, so…” you stammered, awfully self-conscious.
“Well, yeah, but you might as well be.”
“Robin,” Nancy reprimanded her with warning eyes.
“What??” Robin exclaimed while you watched, confused. “It’s not like she doesn’t know what I mean, it’s been going on for years, this… whatever this is. And honestly, we’re all tired of pretending like we can’t see it.”
Nancy blushed, embarrassment written all over her face as she rubbed a hand over it.
“I don’t… understand,” you admitted, tugging at the hems of your dress to anchor yourself in the moment.
“There’s nothing to understand, babes,” Nancy said softly. “Robin was just joking. Right, Rob?”
Nancy was now glaring at Robin, who had no option but to concur. It felt like you were missing something there, and you didn’t like it. Were your friends talking behind your back? Were they annoyed at your relationship with Steve? Annoyed at the ambiguity, the unsaid, the attraction? Was it all that obvious as of late?
“I’m sorry, guys,” Robin said with a sigh. “I had a fight with Vickie earlier today and it messed me up a little bit.”
“Oh, babes,” Nancy softened, hugging Robin from the side.
“I know that’s no excuse for being a jerk,” Robin winced in your direction.
“You’re all right,” you said with a sympathetic smile, and both Robin and Nancy seemed relieved.
The three of you talked Robin through her problem until it was time to meet the guys outside. Nancy was the first to exit the apartment, but Robin lingered by the front door, hand hovering hesitantly above the handle. Eventually, she made up her mind and turned over to face you.
“I just want you to know that I’m really sorry for earlier,” Robin told you.
“It’s okay, Rob, I get it. You were upset about your fight with Vickie and said stuff you didn’t mean. It’s fine, it happens to all of us,” you said, wondering why Robin had felt the need to bounce back on that.
“No, but see, that’s the thing – I did mean it,” she contradicted. “I just didn’t say it like I should’ve.”
“And how should you say it?” you asked with a frown.
Robin looked uncertain now, fidgeting where she stood. You imagined that if Nancy were still in the room with you two, she’d probably give Robin an earful.
“When I said that we’re all tired of pretending like we can’t see what there is between you and Steve, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” she elaborated under your undivided attention. “It’s just… We’re your friends, and you know, as friends, we want what’s best for each other, I’m sure you feel that way about us too –“
“Robin, cut to the chase, please,” you interjected before she could lose herself in her explanation.
“We just think if you two admitted what you’re both obviously feeling for each other… You could be very happy together. And the rest of us would be too because damn, we’ve watched it happen since high school and it’s about time one of you does something about it, babes.”
You stared at the door behind Robin, wishing to run away from this conversation that was too much for you to handle. It was the first time one of your friends confronted you on the matter, upfront, and you had no idea how to react.
“I’m not expecting you to say anything, don’t worry,” Robin added. “I just wanted you to know what everyone else is thinking. Do what you want with that information.”
You opened your mouth to respond but you heard the distinctive sound of Eddie’s van parking on the street, your sign that it was time to go and end this conversation for good. You rushed to the door, opening it before Robin could and hurtling down the stairs to some extent on your heels. Once you were outside, you breathed in slowly, calming down and processing what one of your best friends had just confided to you.
You and Robin met Nancy on the curb as Eddie slid the van’s side door open to let you in the backseats.
“Evening, ladies,” Eddie greeted.
“Wow, you’re Elton!” Nancy exclaimed after studying Eddie’s costume, a white ensemble with feathers and glitter that was the singer’s signature.
“You could get that but not mine?!” Robin exclaimed, almost offended.
“Move on, Rob, and let’s have fun tonight,” Nancy teased her while sitting near Jonathan, dressed in the easily identifiable Han Solo outfit.
Robin took the passenger seat next to Eddie, leaving you with no choice but to sit next to Steve at the back of the van. Of course. Almost like it had been on purpose, you thought to yourself.
You settled next to him and you were almost insecure, something you’d never felt around him. You resented Robin for not knowing best, and not keeping her mouth shut.
“Hey, kitten,” Steve welcomed you as you smoothed the edges of your dress.
“Hey, Harrington,” you said in return, attempting to smile at him.
You studied his costume as he studied yours. Aviator sunglasses on his head, green jumpsuit, sleeves rolled back under his elbows – Maverick from Top Gun. You'd gushed over the character when the movie came out, and you wondered if it happened to be a funny coincidence or if Steve had picked that costume on purpose.
“Baby,” Steve suddenly said.
“What?” you choked out with widened eyes.
Steve frowned. “Your costume,” he clarified. “Baby from Dirty Dancing, right?”
You processed the information and chuckled awkwardly, feeling stupid. You let Robin get in your head and you hated it.
“Right,” you breathed out as Eddie drove away.
Something passed in Steve’s eyes, and you were not sure what it was. Hesitation, desire, resignation… You watched and waited, fingers laced on your lap, heartbeat echoing in your ears.
“You look… very nice,” Steve told you in a hushed voice.
You knew neither Nancy nor Jonathan could’ve heard it – they were engaged in a vivid conversation with Robin and Eddie in the front of the car. It was an intimate declaration, meant for you and you only.
Your lips parted subtly, but Steve’s eyes caught it regardless. It did not soothe the rate of your beating heart.
“Thanks,” you croaked it, throat tight. “You’re not too bad yourself."
Steve smiled briefly, then did the strangest thing. He leaned in, his face awfully close to yours, and you thought; this was it. He was going to kiss you. Right then, right there, in the back of Eddie’s van dressed as the guy from Top Gun on the way to a Halloween party.
And as much as you wanted him to kiss you, it wasn’t how you wanted him to do it. Not the place, not the time. Maybe Steve realized it too because he moved away as quickly as he had gotten closer to you, clearing his throat and watching out the window like nothing happened.
The party at Tina’s villa was loud, messy, and packed with former classmates – some you were glad to run into, others you made a strong case of avoiding. You had a nice chat with your high school sweetheart, even though you could feel Steve’s eyes on you the whole time. When you couldn’t bear the weight of his yearning gaze, you took a sip of that rum punch Vicki Carmichael had made – a few times.
You fled to the bathroom around eleven to freshen up and have some alone time. You were reasonably drunk, but still conscious enough to notice someone was already in the room when you barged into it.
“Oh, so sorry, I didn’t know someone was in there –”
You cut the apology short when you recognized the person’s reflection staring at you in the mirror.
“Becky, hi,” you said, surprised.
The girl greeted you back, the sound of your name imperceptible amid the party people shouting in the hallway. Now, you were reasonably drunk and very uncomfortable.
Becky was the last girl Steve had dated. They had been together for two years and seemed happy until Becky broke up with Steve overnight. Everyone assumed she’d probably met someone else, but you always felt like that was too simple and there was another more plausible explanation.
“You okay?” Becky asked you.
“Y – yeah, I just needed to cool off,” you mumbled.
You assumed Becky would urge you to clear off and leave her be, but instead, she stepped aside to give you some space in front of the sink.
You closed the door behind you and stood in front of the mirror, silently watching Becky perfect the mascara on her lashes. You quickly gathered she was dressed as Madonna in the Material Girl music video.
“It’s… been a while,” you said to break that awful silence. “What are you up to these days?”
“Small talk, huh? I thought we were way past that.”
You chuckled, ill at ease and too drunk to have a proper conversation. Out of all the girls Steve had dated, Becky was the one who unsettled you the most. You never knew what to expect of her.
“How’s Stevie?” Becky then asked before reapplying some lipstick.
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was Becky's inquiry, but something turned your stomach. You always hated it when she called Steve that name. It reminded you of a jealous version of yourself you’d rather leave in the past.
“He’s good,” you said casually, no matter your inner turmoil. “You know. Same old, same old.”
Becky’s lips turned into the semblance of a smile.
“I take it you two still aren’t together.”
You felt your heart drop at that comment. What did she mean, “still”? And what was up with everyone and their insights regarding your relationship with Steve?
“It sounded a lot less petty in my head, I promise,” Becky said when you stayed silent.
“It’s not that,” you replied. “I’m just… surprised you would say that.”
Becky sighed and turned around to face you. It looked like she was about to get a lot of things off her chest, and you were not sober enough for that.
“You know why I broke up with Steve?” Becky asked you, and she obviously wasn’t waiting for an answer. “Why all the girls he dates eventually break things off with him?”
You blinked. You didn’t want Steve’s ex-girlfriend to share that information with you. You had absolutely no desire to detain such knowledge. Yet, you shook your head, permitting Becky to say what she really thought, too curious to pretend you didn’t care.
“Because it’s painfully obvious he’s in love with you and we’re just here passing time until he finally has the balls to tell you.”
In love. You had thought about it all with Steve – he thinks I’m pretty; he’s attracted to me; he likes me more than a friend. But never in your wildest dreams had you dared fantasize about these powerful little words.
He’s in love with you, Becky’s voice repeated like a broken record on a loop in your mind. Taunting, hopeful, too good to be true.
You found yourself sitting on the bathtub’s edge, both arms at your side, speechless. Becky leaned against the wall across from you and chuckled like she'd just shared the funniest story.
“Don’t tell me this is shocking news.”
“I…” you started without finishing your thought. You were at a loss for words and your head started spinning, the fateful sentence seeping into your mind faster than the liquor in your system.
“Look, obviously, it wasn’t my place to tell, but you know, despite everything, I always liked you,” Becky confessed. “You were always nice to me, even though I could tell it was not easy for you.”
You lowered your eyes, apologetic. It was true – you had always been nice to Becky. After all, it wasn’t the girl’s fault if you had feelings you’d never dare confess to your best friend.
“That’s why I’m telling you,” Becky resumed. “I’m trying to help you two out. This whole faint-hearted act was probably cute when you were sixteen, but you’re adults now. Are you waiting for him to get married and start a family with someone else to tell him how you feel?”
The mere thought made your heart ache. You didn’t want to picture Steve married to someone else. It made you nauseous.
“Sorry, that was harsh,” Becky apologized.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked her in a whisper, feeling like your head was about to explode. “Why are you telling this to me and not him?”
Becky stared at you like you’d just said the most nonsensical thing.
“Because he’s an idiot and a coward. If you’re waiting for him to make a move, you’ll wait a long time, honey.”
You spaced out for a moment, and when you returned to your senses, Becky was gone, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts in that bathroom.
Becky was right. Steve was an idiot and a coward. The inebriation clouded all your good judgments, so you got to your feet and walked out of the bathroom to look for Steve. After everything that happened tonight, you were confused, upset, and even angry.
You found him outside by the pool, joking around with some guys from his old swim team in high school. You marched to him, bold and determined, and he didn’t notice you right away, so you hooked your fingers to the fabric around his arm and dragged him behind you. You ignored the guys whistling at you both or Steve protesting and asking what had gotten into you until you walked into an empty room on the side of the villa and closed the patio door behind you.
“Okay, what the hell was that about??” Steve exclaimed, his voice loud in the quiet of the room, away from the party noises and the music. “Have you lost your shit??”
“You’re an idiot,” you told him in an accusing tone.
“Tell me about it,” Steve sassed you.
“And a coward!”
“Oh, so you have a whole list, huh?”
“That’s what Becky said.”
Steve looked at you in silence, processing what you just said.
“Of course, you talked to Becky….” he sighed. “Let me guess – she said I stole her INXS tape? She needs to let it go, she clearly lost it, she can’t keep blaming me for –“
“I don’t want you to get married, Steve,” you interrupted him, blurting out what you had been obsessing about for the last ten minutes.
Steve froze and looked at you like you were insane. And you might just be, you realized. You took a step back, dizzy and embarrassed.
“I… was not planning on getting married any time soon. Where is that coming from?” Steve asked you, stepping toward you.
You bit your tongue, holding from saying another stupidity you’d immediately regret. Suddenly, your choice to confront Steve and isolate yourselves in a bedroom didn’t look like the brilliant plan it seemed to be five minutes ago.
“Forget it, I’m drunk, and I don’t know what I’m saying,” you stammered, head low as you walked toward the door.
“Hey,” Steve brought you short by taking your hand before you had the chance to leave. His touch was tender, your hand fit perfectly in his, and you understood what Becky meant when she said "still not together".
“Talk to me,” Steve urged, lacing his fingers with yours. It was unbearable, how natural it felt. “You used to tell me everything, and now, I have no idea what’s up with you anymore.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat, wishing you could go back in time and stop yourself from putting the two of you in this awful situation.
“Come on, kitten, we’re friends, you can tell me anything.”
Friends. You loathed the word that normally comforted you. You couldn’t stand to hear it.
He’s in love with you. How could he say you were friends when he was the one you called first when your car broke down, when he’d snuck out of college to comfort you after you got dumped by your ex-boyfriend, when he drove you across the country to see your sick grandfather for the last time? How did he have the audacity to minimize what you meant to each other after taking such a significant place in your heart for years and years?
“We’re not friends,” you mumbled.
You looked at him and thought you could see heartbreak in his eyes. You’d hurt him. You’d hurt him badly.
“We’re not?” he asked, his voice breaking in the inflection.
You held your breath as Steve questioned you with glistening eyes. He didn’t understand what you were trying to tell him, and it was killing you.
“You know what I mean,” you breathed out, unable to say the actual words.
He’s in love with you. It was so simple. Why couldn’t he just admit it?
You’re in love with him too, why can’t you say it?  you admitted to yourself.
Because no, it wasn’t that simple. Steve wasn’t the only coward in this situation. After all these years, it was so scary to admit, even more to say out loud. How could you expect him to say it when you were terrified of doing it yourself?
Eventually, Steve let go of your hand, an almost insignificant gesture that shattered your heart into a million pieces.
“Actually… No. I don’t know what you mean,” he said, defeated, before leaving the room.
You did it. You ruined everything, you thought as you sat on the floor and cried your heartbreak away.
🎁🎁🎁
It was supposed to be the merriest day of the year, with children's laughter filling the air and countless presents to unwrap. Yet, your heart was not in it, and you had to hold back tears during dinner that night at your parents’ house.
You hadn’t talked to or heard from Steve in almost two months, and it was officially the longest you’d spent without seeing each other. The thought was excruciating. He was your best friend in the entire world, you were head over heels in love with him, and the absence of him was like gasping for air on the verge of drowning.
But today was a merry day. Today was all about spending time together, eating a nice homemade meal, and reuniting. So, you played the part – you ate dinner, played board games with your cousins, and chatted with your uncles and aunts. You did what you were expected to do, and nothing more.
When you returned to your place, to your sad and lonely apartment, you sat down on the floor, still in your red party dress, back to your couch with a glass of wine, and flipped through a photo album Nancy and Jonathan had given you for your twenty-fifth birthday.
It was a recollection of happy times Jonathan had captured with his camera throughout the years – from graduating high school to renting your first crappy apartment, taking your first trip to New York with the group, and celebrating various occasions with them.
You took the last photo from the album, holding it between your fingers to get a closer look. It was a picture of you and Steve on New Year’s Eve the year before. You were posing for the camera, smiling from ear to ear. You were looking at the lens, but Steve only had eyes for you, holding you in his arms with rosy cheeks. When you looked at it like that, in retrospect and from another’s perspective, it seemed so evident that the guy in the picture loved the girl posing next to him.
You were fully crying now, blurry eyes and stuffy nose in contradiction with the holiday spirit. You were about to put the picture away in the album when something in the back of it caught your eye.
There was a note in the handwriting you would recognize anywhere at any given time – Steve’s. Your heart skipped a beat. It had gone unnoticed the first time you’d looked through the album at your birthday party and none of your friends had mentioned a thing about it. You started to look at a handful of pictures to see if others had something hidden on the other side, but they were all blank. All except for one.
You took a deep breath, pondering. Maybe Nancy and Jonathan were unaware of it, but Steve not saying anything didn’t make sense. This note had been there, forgotten in an album gathering dust in your bookcase, for months, and it could’ve gone on for years had you not felt nostalgic on that specific day.
You wondered if you should read it or pretend you’d never seen it. It was only a few words; they were probably some meaningless inside jokes or more personal birthday wishes. But they could also be something more, much more.
You knew you couldn’t live with the uncertainty, so you gathered your courage and read.
Happy birthday, kitten! Don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but I want you to know you’re my favorite person in the entire world, and I love you. Yours always, Steve PS: stop being a sourpuss just ‘cause you turned 25
It had been there. Right there, under your nose, all along. Yours always.
Before you could think it through, your coat was around your shoulders and you were behind the wheel, ready to drive to Steve’s place and tell him how you felt. Screw the stability and the uncertainty – you loved the boy too and you needed to tell him tonight.
It was past midnight, the air was cold and the streetlights reflected in the puddles on the pavement as you drove a little too fast toward Steve’s building. Your heart was racing in your chest, anticipation mingling with excitement while you rehearsed what you’d say in your head.
You were going to confess your true feelings to Steve. Nothing could scare you anymore.
Except, perhaps, the ominous sputtering sound your car made when you tried to restart at a traffic light.
“No, no, no, no, no, come on, not now!!” you begged desperately.
The ignition wouldn’t turn over, and you could’ve screamed at the sky. Was it some sort of cosmic sign preventing you from making the biggest mistake of your life?
You got out of the car to check the engine under the hood. When you opened it, it did something it’d never done before – it gave off fumes.
You coughed violently as you stepped away from the car, looking all around you and realizing you were alone on the street in the middle of the night with a kaput car and wasted opportunities.
“This is a nightmare,” you told yourself out loud. “This can’t be happening to me.”
Your eyes burned as you were about to cry again, disheartened and pathetic. Then, some headlights on the other side of the road caught your attention.
A maroon car stopped next to you and turned the ignition off. You held your breath, recognizing the vehicle instantly and wondering if the universe wouldn’t happen to be messing with you.
The driver exited the car and eyed yours up and down before chuckling.
“I had a feeling Gina wouldn’t make it through the year,” he said.
You laughed, the sound choked up in your throat at the improbability of the situation. You couldn’t believe Steve was there, rescuing you even without meaning to, always being there when you needed him to, the constant one in your life. As luck would have it, you thought.
“What are you doing here this late at night?” you asked him.
“Could ask you the same thing,” he remarked with a smile.
You returned his smile, nervously fixing your hair. The wind was rising, and the air was filled with change and expectations.
“I was… on my way to your place, actually,” you explained, somehow shyly. “I wanted to talk to you.”
A few seconds passed until Steve spoke again like he was processing the information. “That’s funny, I was on my way to your place too.”
You swallowed, unable to stop hoping. “You were?”
“Yeah… Of course, I was,” Steve shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep, and I realized I never got a chance to give you your present because we weren't speaking to each other, so… Anyways, I can just give it to you now.”
“We’re literally in the middle of the road, Steve.”
He looked around at the empty and silent street for good measure. “Yeah, and it’s not like it’s rush hour right now, I think we’re good.”
You opened your mouth to retort but opted against saying anything else. It was your first interaction with him in weeks, it was out of the question to ruin it just to have the last word.
The young man got something from the backseat of his car and immediately handed it to you. You took it carefully, turning it over in your hand to try and figure out what was beneath the wrapping paper.
“I… don’t have your gift,” you admitted, crestfallen. “I mean, I did get you something, but I didn’t think to give it to you tonight.”
“It’s okay, kitten. Just open it.”
You complied, slowly unwrapping the paper with trembling fingers and shortness of breath as Steve observed quietly.
You were now looking at a book’s front cover, and it might’ve seemed unremarkable at first glance, but it was not some common paperback.
“First limited edition,” Steve explained, even though you already knew. “You talked about it at Eddie’s place a couple of months ago, that it was almost impossible to find today, and you’d love to have it. So, I went to every bookstore in town to ask if they knew where to get it, and one of them gave me their counterpart's number from England, they had to send it all the way here but… Yeah,” Steve concluded, face red and hands in his pocket. “I found it.”
You looked up from the book to lock eyes with Steve. He seemed expectant and abashed, almost anxious of your reaction.
“You went to all this trouble for me?” you asked in disbelief.
He pursed his lips and nodded as if it was that obvious.
“You’re well worth the trouble.”
All this time, you had expected blatant signs, big gestures, and declarations, when Steve had been telling you how he felt in his own way for years. It had always been there – in fleeting touches, longing stares, and understated actions.
“I read it,” you eventually confessed.
"The book?" Steve asked, puzzled.
“No," you laughed. "The note you wrote in my photo album. I read it tonight.”
You noticed the way Steve held his breath at that revelation. Suddenly, you no longer cared that you were standing in the middle of the road with your dead car by your side. Suddenly, all that mattered was the pretty boy standing before you and what you felt for him.
“It was corny, right?” Steve said with a nervous laugh. “I know you don’t like it when it’s corny but –“
“Can’t you just be serious for one minute, Harrington?” you cut him short with an amused eye roll. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel here.”
“I know,” Steve breathed out. “I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel for months now, but I never find the right words.”
In the elation of the moment, your words got a mind of their own, and you heard yourself saying: “Show me, then.”
Friends. A designation you held onto for the past eight years, a status that put things into perspective whenever Steve introduced a new girlfriend to the group, a word that freed you of your guilt when getting into relationships yourself, a term that helped you when you would yearn for something more, something you thought to be unrealistic and unreachable.
That word no longer held any power over you now that you were in Steve Harrington’s arms and he leaned in to seal his lips with yours into a long-awaited and overdue kiss, the promise of a cherished and beautiful future.
You'd envisioned the scene time and time again in your mind, but none of the imaginary scenarios your fantasies created could measure up to that kiss. It was sweet, yet demanding, like you were the air he needed to breathe. He kissed you like he loved - sincerely, tenderly, and intensely. You smiled against his mouth, and your heart melted when he did it too.
When you parted from him, lips swollen and eyelashes fluttering, you felt like everything was finally right and mourned the time you wasted being scared of changes.
“So… What now?” you whispered, getting a strand of hair out of Steve’s face to look at him better.
The boy held your gaze, enamored and enraptured like you’d never seen him before. You enjoyed it while it lasted because it was a momentary bliss until reality caught up.
“Well, first, we’re going to call a tow truck," Steve said as he entwined his fingers with yours. "And then, you’ll bid farewell to Gina,” he nodded toward the car.
Your heart tightened in your chest. You’d almost forgotten about your car. It was truly ironic, how you needed to say goodbye to your oldest partner while embracing a new beginning with your best friend.
“Can it wait until tomorrow?” you asked while batting your lashes at him.
“Hey, just because we’re going to make out a lot from now on doesn’t mean you get to do that,” Steve jokingly scolded you while gesturing at your face.
“Do what?” you asked, coy and amused.
Steve laughed and put his arm around your shoulders. “Come on, kitten, I’m taking you home.”
At first, it didn’t feel like much had changed between you and Steve. You were still teasing each other, spending time with the group before Nancy and Jonathan’s departure, and arguing about what car you should buy now that Gina was in a junkyard.
But things had changed for the better, and you realized it on New Year’s Eve when Steve kissed you at midnight, as he would for many new years to come.
❤️❤️❤️
2K notes · View notes
lufyuu · 10 months ago
Text
,,The Verdict''
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Dragon Judge x Criminal male reader
Tw/s: abuse of power, corruption, rough dom, somewhat dubcon (?), breeding, mating, claiming, mentions of getting reader pregnant, marking, double stuffing, brat taming-ish, mentions of blood (reader biting his own lip & scratching)
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Goddamnit. God fucking damnit.
You could've gotten away with it if it weren't for the judge's sharp eyes in noticing you sprinting away from the scene of the crime. It wasn't as if you weren't trying to hide either— you were in the dark, how could he had even notice! Unfortunately, your days of being known as the mysterious serial killer are now over as you stand in court, face to face with the families of your victims. Fuck.
You turn to look at the infamous judge or lord, a title given by the public to him. He has been and is still shrouded in mystery. His intimidating gaze is a sufficent warning to make people look away and abandon any thought of discovering more about him. He is known to be a very neutral and cold judge. Having been around this exact courthouse for 20 years, he seems to have never aged, staying forever in his prime. With a face and body like his, who wouldn't want a taste? Unfortunately, the ones who did shoot their shots were rejected in the most humbling way possible. They wouldn't even disclose it due to embarrassment. How this man came to be is still a mystery to the public. Not even people who work close to him can discover his origins. He is the one whom citizens claim to possess abilities one couldn't explain. Due to all the reasons stated above, the people tend to believe in whatever he says. Whatever the judge says, goes around here.
And there he is, right before your very eyes with court ending very soon you can assume. His expression is as calm as can be. Even when a serial killer such as yourself stands infront of him. His demanding presence commanding everyone to pay attention as the trial proceeds. Honestly, you should've been thrown in jail at this point, you've admitted to the crime already, what is the point of this trial?
"Mr [L. Name], is it true you commited these acts of manslaughter?", he turns his head towards you, gazing into your soul almost. You look up at him, gazing back with uncaring and bored eyes, "yes", a simple and clear answer. The entire courtroom is silent, the air is tense. You can feel eyes burning into your back, the cries of your victims' relatives satisfy you enough for you to let a fleeting smile spread on your face, disgusting everyone and anyone who notices. "Before we conclude this trial, the court will hear from the victims' families. Please step forward now if you have anything you would like to say to the defendant.", as the judge says this, many, many people came to the stance to have a word or two. Despite all this, his gaze settled on you, never leaving your figure.
You look at the family member infront of you. The sister of the first victim you had took the life of. You can't be bothered to remember his name though. "You fucking monster, how could you even do that to anyone let alone MULTIPLE PEOPLE!?", her tears eventually caught up with her, hiccuping as she stutters on her next few words which you drown out with thoughts of what to have for your first meal in prison. Not a single bone in your body feels guilty for the crimes you have commited. For the pain you have caused your victims' families.
With nine of the ten family members having said what they wanted and you drowning them out, it was time for the last one. This particular guy you can recall, Jason Williams, the brother of the victim you had dated. In the middle of his heartbreaking speech, he came closer to you and slapped you real hard. Your whole head turned 45° degrees due to the impact on your cheek. You look back with a hand on your cheek, amused almost. "Couldn't even hold back, no wonder your sister hated you", your expression showed no remorse, almost mocking him in a sense, which tipped him off even more. Fortunately for you, before he could do anything more physical, the judge butted in on the whole 'fight'. "Order in the court!", his deep and commanding voice caught the attention of everyone in the vicinity. He continues his command, "Quin, please remove the parties involved and restore order in the courtroom", Quin, the bailiff, immediately goes to de-escalate the situation by asking Jason to step back and that justice would be served. With a final glare, Jason steps back, not wanting to look at you anymore.
With everything out of the way, you glance back at the judge who seems to still be looking at you. "We will take a break to allow all parties to collect themselves before the sentencing. Court will pick up where we left in 20 minutes." And with those words, the audience and prosecution walked out of the room, including you who was escorted out by several guards to a secure room to ensure you wouldn't escape.
The room itself is rather simple and basic. Nothing out of the ordinary really. An air vent, an ac, thick walls and a sofa. At least it's comfortable.
Just 5 minutes into your relaxing, you hear a knock on the door. You don't get up as it's pointless seeing how they've locked it from the outside. You merely open your eyes and await whoever's beyond the door to come in. The moment the door opens, you are surprised to see an important figure walk in. "Oh? Lord, uh...", you try to recall his name, but to no avail, you've never cared to remember names other than your own. "Liu Zihao", "huh?", you raise an eyebrow at the sudden sound, "my name", he looks down at your laying body. Something in you decided it's best for you to sit up instead of laying down. Getting up from your comfortable position, you cross your legs and arms. "So what are you here for? To cuss me out like all the others?", you ask, not even sparing him a glance, even yawning a bit and closing your eyes in hopes he'd go away soon. Without saying another word, he gets closer to you. When you reopen your eyes, he's right in front of you. You get a bit jumpy and try to throw a fist at him, which he catches with ease.
Your fingers are eventually intertwined with his as he presses down one hand on the cushion right next to you. Your expression is conflicted. Your fight or flight insticts have kicked in, yet you almost tremble at his presence. You don't know what it is about him that makes you almost tremble. "Hm", he lets out a hum of curiosity and lets go of your hand, turning his heels and walking out the simple room. Leaving you in the room all alone once more as the door lock clicked.
"What the fuck was that for", you ask to nobody in particular seeing as you're alone. You look at your palm which had touched his a moment ago, finding nothing out of the ordinary despite a strange sensation enveloping it earlier on. Not thinking much of it, you plop back to your lazy laying position you were in before and doze off for a few minutes before being roughly woken up and taken to court once more.
"Ahem, Court is back in session. We will now proceed with the final verdict.", judge Liu announces to everyone as they hold hands with one another, having hope that justice would be served and you'd finally be out of the streets where you could potentially spot another target. You are told to rise from your hard seat. "After careful consideration of the evidence and arguments presented to the court, I hereby declare that the defendant, Mr [Name] [L. Name], is found guilty of the charges brought against him.", with that sentencing, you weren't surprised at all. You admitted to everything, and there was sufficient proof once you pointed them out. But of course, Zihao still had to continue his obligatory speech. "The crimes you have committed warrant a punishment which has never been given to a criminal such as yourself ever before.", this got you intrigued. You were sure you'd face the death penalty or even life in prison, but now that the judge has said those words, your mind begins to race through countless possibilities.
"Therefore, [Name] [L. Name] shall be personally punished and re-educated under my direct supervision."
What.
What did he just say?
You could hear for a split second the audience behind you start to whisper amongst each other but those are drowned out by your thoughts of confusion and shock. What did he mean by that? What could he want to do with you? He's unpredictable. There'd be no way anyone would agree with him—
"Court is adjurned.", Zihao stands up, indicating the session has ended. He moves his attention to the bailiff, "please escort [Name] [L. Name] to my headquarters.", Quin nods in obedience as he strode towards your still shocked and confused state. "Do not resist.", he lets out a warning and takes you to the judge's headquarters. You can hear the audience and victims' families cheer as justice has been served. Your punishment shall be served by the one and only judge, making this all the more exciting. What judge Liu says, goes.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
All you remember is being escorted into a special carriage with black curtains. As the carriage carried on, you couldn't do anything, not even looking out the windows due to the curtains. Though, you did feel the road being very bumpy. It almost felt like hours before you finally arrive at the judge's headquarters.
When you first step through the doors, you take note of the high ceilings and extravagant interior. You walk further into the manor-like building, noticing even more details along the way. The walls seemed to have been carved as if this was once a victorian era castle. It looked very clean. upon closer inspection, you notice symbols of which you don't recognize. The shape resembled one of a dragon. You paid it no attention. When you turn to your left, your eyes lay on a pair of stairs which seemed as if they reached heavens due to the height of it. The railings are golden, if you squint a little, they had an effect which made it seem as if they're glowing.
You don't even notice the bailiff leaving until you heard the tall doors slam shut. You quickly look behind as it startled you. Why would he even leave you alone, that didnt make sense.
After a few moments of pondering whether to escape immediately or continue your exploration, you decide to ascend the almost never ending stairs to the top floor. There, you see that the top floor is a whole room itself. There are no doors to open, just an untouched bedroom which could honestly be called a treasure room at the same time. The amount of shiny things you could name were almost endless. Despite the whole thing looking a bit untouched, you could tell someone has taken care of it or at the very least, tried to. The desk and books are collecting dust but at least the sheets are clean. Taking another step forward, you examine the royalty-like room. There's a chandelier placed in the middle of the room. It hangs over you, something about it feel off. Maybe it's the fact it looks so much like a glowing purple bubble floating in the air. Maybe your eyesight's gotten worse? Though, you sure do notice the tall windows.
In your peripheral vision, you could see a box that caught your eye. You walk towards the box, which sits on top of the desk. Lifting it with your two hands, you blow off some of the dust. It wasn't locked, thankfully. You take a peak inside and see... a collar of some kind. A collar made out of what seems to be black leather with precious amethysts embedded into the leather itself, along with some chains drooping around it. You looked at it and thought about one thing. This thing could fetch you a pretty penny or two. Deciding on selling it the moment you get out of this fancy manor, you reach into the box and grab it using one hand. "That idiotic judge, leaving me all alone here", not only would he be blamed for letting a serial killer escape, but he would also lose a precious gem adorned collar. Within a blink of an eye, you felt something placing itself around your neck. Wait...where did the collar go!?
You panic and look in the mirror to see said collar somehow clasped on your neck. "Fuck fuck what is this shit!?", you start to cuss out of fear. You'd never been scared by anything but this....this is different. There must be some magic or paranormal activity for this to even happen. How did it teleport from your hand to your neck, that doesn't make sense!
You try to pry it off your neck but to no avail, it was tight around your neck. It wouldn't let go of you. Not now that you've accepted being its owner's mate. Your gut is screaming at you to get out of there as fast as possible. With the collar unable to be loose, you focus on escaping first. "Fuck", you try to break the windows to escape as you usually do but stop to think. You're very high above ground at this moment, if you jump off from this height, you'd end up dead or with broken bones which you don't feel like dealing with. The only decision you had left was to go back downstairs and to hopefully be able to escape through the entrance or a back door before Zihao arrives. Sprinting like your life depends on it, you finally arrive at the entrance of the manor. You push it but it doesn't budge. At that moment, you hear an "ahem" coming from behind you. Your whole body freezes, not daring to even look back. You recognize the voice as their footsteps get closer to you until you felt their chest press against your back. Their hands trailing your body. Their hands settling to grip your waist in place. "I see you've accepted my gift", you could even imagine the person to be smiling as they say this.
Their left hand grabs your chin to face them. You weren't surprised to see the judge. What shocked you was the fact he looked like a predator who just found its prey. His pupils looked like a..serpent's..? Not only that, you could see his eye color changing and glowing a bright purple. You try to pull your head back in order not to face his predatory gaze, but his hand stops you. He has a strong grip on your chin, preventing you from looking away. Even though your whole body is almost trembling with fear, you manage to ask, "w-what to do you...want...", he tilts his head a bit, as if he himself is confused. "You're now my mate, I can do whatever I please with you, can't I?", he states as if it's the most obvious thing ever, making you even more nervous. You try your best to stay calm, but how could you? Why did he even use the term 'mate'...
"What m-mate? I'm...nothing of the sorts, let go!", you thrash in his hold, trying your hardest and using all your strength to break free which eventually, you reach your goal. "F-fuck, crazy bastard!", your words spill out as you stumble back, trying to catch the breath you'd been unconsciously holding while in his strong grip. He only stared at you, you could see clearly now that he isn't human, there's no way he could be one. With the black to purple gradient horns ontop his head. Heck, you even see a long tail behind him. Your fight or flight immediately activated as you tried your best to get out of there. You've already established that 1. This man's grip is strong and that 2. He isn't human. There's no way you'd be able to beat him in a fight. You try to reach the front door. You're just a few inches away before he pulls you back to him, this time, your whole body is facing his. "Don't run", is all he says, you look at him as if he's said something crazy, "don't run?? Fuck you, let go of me right now", despite this man being easily 6'5 and intimidating as fuck, you manage to overcome your fear and speak your mind.
"I've finally found you after years of being in the mortal realm, stay with me, my mate", he says as he gently grabs your hand to touch his cheek. Whatever he said made you even more confused, is this all a dream? No way any of this is real. "What are you on..!?", you question but honestly didn't want to know the answer. All you want and nerd at this moment is to be able to escape his grasp as this time, it seems more secure. Without even answering, the serpent-like man whisked you up into his arms, carrying you as if you were light as feather. Even when you thrash on and on, it's as if he doesn't feel your weight at all.
Despite voicing out and even using action to show your unwillingness, he doesn't stop and continues to make the journey up the stairs with you in his arms. It doesn't take long until the both of you reach the top floor.
He proceeds to throw you on the bed as gently as someone could be. Before you could get up and even process what had happened, you're pinned down to the bed by Zihao. "Hey, hey Lord Liu–", just as you're about to protest once more, you're silenced by Zihao's lips shutting you up. At first, it was just smashing your lips together, but you knew Zihao wanted more than that. He tries to get you to slip up and open your mouth, but you don't let him. You try your best to keep your lips sealed. This proves to be even more difficult the moment his hand trails down your tummy and stops at your pants. With just a touch, your pants are suddenly discarded of along with your underwear. "Wh–", you made a mistake. The moment you had realized you accidentally left an opening for him, it was too late. His tongue slides itself into your open mouth. You have no way of closing it now. What's weird is that you could almost feel his tongue down your throat, "a-aufh!??!...", the sudden feeling shocks you yet you couldn't say anything about it so all you could think to do was try to push him off of you.
Using all your strength, you manage to push him off. It was weird seeing how you couldn't push him off earlier on. You wipe your lips, which had his saliva and your own drool still covering it. You couldn't deny that he's an amazing kisser and the way he explored your mouth did turn you on a bit but you're as scared as ever with him not being human and calling you his 'mate'. At this point, he's almost straddling you in a way. He licks his lips, and that was when you saw his long tongue. It's split in the very middle, making him look even more serpent-like. With his weight on you, you couldn't get up and sprint down the stairs and out the door like you wanted. Instead, you tried to talk him out of whatever he was about to do. "Judge Liu, why in the world would a judge want to do this with a criminal..!?", you catch your breath while you're trying to persuade him, well, more of asking now that you think about it. This obviously doesn't work. He's already decided on you as his. A simple question of why he's doing what he is right now is futile. "This is your sentencing, I'm merely carrying out my duty", after he says this, he loosens his tie and discards it on the ground next to the bed. "Having you in front of me is...exhilarating", his eyes are filled with so much lust and love while looking at your fearful figure pinned to the bed he's always wanted you to be on. "Consider this as discipline for the crimes you've commited", with just a snap of his fingers, your arms are suddenly bound above your head. When you take a look, you can see a seal of some kind hovering over your hands, preventing any movement.
With every touch of his on your skin, you felt pleasure even if you didn't want to admit to it. His hands trailing up and down your body, from your neck until your crotch. It was as if he's exploring his new treasure. "That is unless you desire the death penalty?", you shake your head as a 'no'. This definitely is better than the death penalty but you still have questions. One of them being what kind of nonsense was he even spouting? Some shit about being his 'mate' or whatnot. While infront of you, Zihao unzips his pants. "What the fuck!?", you couldn't believe what you were seeing and involuntary let out a scream of confusion as what you saw wasn't just a cock, he had two. "Hm?", he glances up at you once more, confused as to why you let out such a noise. You could only stare with your eyes wide open. As he followed your gaze, he noticed what you were staring at, "ah, it hadn't crossed my mind..you mortals aren't usually this size", though he wasn't wrong, you were talking about how he has two instead of one. "I meant you having two...", you refused to continue your sentence having already eluded to the fact he has two of which you and many others only have one of.. Fortunately, he already knows what you were trying to point out, "there shouldn't be an issue regarding them, you'll be able to take them fairly well without difficulty", this doesn't convince you, not at all. Looking at the length and width, you think you'll die if you try to fit both in you.
Fortunately for you, he didn't put it in immediately. He, at the very least, has the decency to prep you beforehand. As he was about to put two fingers in your mouth, you close it immediately. This ends up with his fingers on your lips instead. It's clear what he wants you to do but you refuse. "Open up", he demands. You aren't just going to let him put his fingers in your mouth. If you do, your ego wouldn't ever recover from it. You shook your head no as an answer seeing how you can't really open your mouth. His lips twitch ever so slightly. "You've been given mercy by me and yet you're still a brat?", he asks, eyes piercing yours. While that is technically true, you'd never thought this 'mercy' of his would get you into this kind of situation. Reluctantly, you open your mouth, leaving a small gap between your bottom and upper lip. It's big enough for him to shove both fingers into your mouth. He looks at you expectantly. You knew what he wanted so you slowly sucked and licked his fingers. His fingers eventually got deeper into your mouth, almost reaching your throat due to how long they are. You almost choke on them. His eyes scan your face, that adorable expression you're making is turning him on a bit more by the second. Before long, he removes his fingers from your mouth. Letting you catch your breath a bit.
Although, that didnt last long as he pressed his two fingers on your hole. "Don't take it that far! I'm a man—", God, how many times have you been interrupted by him? You can't remember and you simply don't want to. His long and slender fingers pushed their way into your tight hole while you could only close your eyes to avoid meeting his gaze. Of course just closing your eyes can't solve everything. You still felt this fingers push and twist inside of you in search of something in particular. You let out breathy and quiet moans until his fingers finally found what they were looking for. Your sweet spot. "Ahgh..!", a louder moan came out of your mouth as a response to the sudden pleasureful feeling. When you open your eyes, you could see Zihao look at you with hungry eyes. He continues to stretch your hole for the next 2 minutes. All the while you closed your eyes. "If this is already making you feel full, I fear my cock will be too much for you to handle", just then, he removes his fingers from your hole.
The sudden feeling of emptiness hits you so you open your eyes to look at what he's doing. Without warning, he takes one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder, leaving an easier access for him. Using his other hand, he places a firm grip on your waist, "h-hey now—", you couldn't say anything once had plunged one of his cocks inside of you. It wasn't even all the way yet but it had you arch your back, widen your eyes and mouth. You swore some tears even came out. "A-AaAgh..!", was the only noise you could let out. A mix of pleasure, pain and shock. Zihao lets out a groan of pleasure as he finally enters your hole. Though, he longed to be all the way in you and so he didn't waste anytime, thrusting all the way in this time. You let out a loud moan, almost like a scream of a moan. "Hah...you take me in so well", you couldn't even cover your face with your hands due to them being bound together. It's humiliating even if nobody's here to see. Having someone dominate you when you're a serial killer hurts your pride and ego. You look at him with a gaze which to you, conveys hatred yet pleasure. This only turns him on even more. "My mate...I've been craving for this", the second he finishes his sentence, he pulls up just until his tip is in before slamming his hips forward once more. Without anything to bite on to conceal your voice, you bite your lip until it starts to bleed. His thrusts get rougher and faster by the second. He groans and moans as he pounds your cute hole, all he wants is to fill you up with his seed. It's his natural instict afterall.
You were starting to manage the unexplainable feeling of his big cock stretching and pounding your hole when all of a sudden, he hits your sweet spot once more. Your voice might be raspy by tomorrow if you keep scream moaning all throughout tonight. You hoped it wouldn't last that long though. You wanted so badly to cling onto something or someone, to dig your fingerd into the sheets or Zihao's back but the seal prevented you. With the amount of stimulation you've been getting, you can feel yourself about to cum. You moan loudly once more as cum splurted out of your cock, coating your stomach with the fluid. This doesn't stop Zihao from thrusting in and out of you like there's no tomorrow. He's chasing his own climax.
Having just came, you're extra sensitive to his attacks. You could feel every inch of him enter. "Agh...take it all inside", Zihao groans as he can feel himself reach his limit after a few more minutes.
For the first time in the 7 minutes, he stops to catch his breath. You also take this opportunity to pant and try to grasp what had just happened. To your surprise, Zihao had broken off the seal that was bounding your two hands. You didn't have the strength to question it, you only put your hands back down, relaxing them as they had gotten quite sore.
Not even 3 minutes pass and you noticed something rubbing against your already filled hole. "W-what are you doing now..?", you question as you saw him bringing his second cock near your entrance, "you won't be able to conceive my kids with just one round", he's forcibly pushing his cock in your stuffed hole as he says this. You could only brace for impact as you gripped the bedsheets beside you. Not long after, you feel the head of his second cock pushing in. The pain is noticeable, you try to suppress it as best as you can to get through. Fortunately for you, his cocks have a sort of natural lube. Not only does it reduce the pain of the receiver, it also helps slide it in smoother.
"My love, wrap your hands around me instead", the way he said it in such a gentle and soft way made you give in. For the first time in your criminal life, you're holding and at the same time, being held by a male being.
Your thoughts are interrupted for the 2nd and probably not the last time by Zihao's dick entering you. You look down to see your stomach has a very visible bulge. When Zihao goes to press on your stomach, you moan out. "Seems you're very sensitive, you'll bring wonderful offsprings", he smiles. Before you could even question it, he starts to pound you again but this time with both his cocks deep inside your poor stretched out hole. Some of his cum even dripped out your hole due to how fiercely and deep he thrusted. Your brain is fogged due to being so full. Your nails dig themselves into his still clothed back, nearly tearing his expensive leather. He wouldn't mind if you did at all. He loves the way you're clinging onto him with your arms around him. "Hah...agh", he lets out a string of groans as he hits your prostate each time he thrusts back in. You could only writhe in the pleasure, not being able to conceal your voice anymore as you moan louder than before. If some passersby came along, they'd hear your moans and the sound of skin against skin. With Zihao's cum already inside, there's noticeable squelching noises each time he pounds your ass.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Even after having you've came five more times, Zihao shows no sign of stopping. He's only came about twice you presume, not being able to recall much. Both your bodies sweaty and sticky. Your voice has gotten hoarse. You can barely think with so much cock inside you. Your lewd sounds and expressions only fuels Zihao's urge to fuck you even dumber. It's almost as if his hips are unstoppable. By now, his clothes and yours are already discarded on the ground next to the bed. This lets your nails dig into his bare back, leaving scratch marks as gold liquid, which someone can only assume to be blood, drip out of the scars. Zihao doesn't react at all despite how painful the scratches look. You feel as if you're about to die from overstimulation, or at the very least, pass out soon enough. You feel a sense of relief once Zihao finally came in you and stopped for a moment, letting you rest. "H-hah...ah..", you look at the ceiling, your hands no longer wrapped around Zihao. Instead, they're sprawled out on the bed as you pant, out of breath. "You're my mate and I'll make sure everyone knows that", you could hear Zihao say. Out of curiosity and a tint of fear, you look at him. He proceeds to trail his finger around your lower tummy, using some sort of magic? Power? You don't know, you can see his hand having a purple glow to it before you suddenly experience intense pleasure all over your body. You look down and see a symbol on your body. Before you could even say anything, you're roughly lifted up into his lap. This sudden action shocks you as he's looking up at your cute face.
"This is my mark on you, all mortal and immortal alike shall know to stay away fron you", he says with a fierce voice, proud of his mark on your skin and then points at the symbol, almost poking your skin. "Claim...? What do you mea—", just as you are about to finish your sentence, he thrusts upwards, going balls deep in you. You end up jolting for a moment with your eyes wide. "My claim in you, you're mine, no one else's." With your body now weak and wanting him to fuck you senseless, you rest your head on his shoulder, your face almost smushed into his chest. Wanting him to do all the job for you. He finds this reaction to his mark very amusing and continues to bounce you up and down on his cocks. His thrusts are relentless, making you close your eyes. You bite his collarbone, trying to suppress the pain however you could. Even when you're distracted, you feel something slithering up your leg. When you open your eyes and put your chin over Zihao's shoulder, you see his long scaly tail wrap itself around your leg. Despite the sight being able to freak anyone out, it treats your leg with gentility, not ever squeezing too tight. Unfortunately, your cock filled mind's too foggy to even register it's Zihao's tail.
You don't even notice him cumming inside you. It's only when he stops do you realize. You're almost about to pass out, how long will your 'punishment' last..? "Z-Zihao....I can't take anymore...", you huff out, panting. He, on the other hand, only smirked, "the night is still young, you're my mate for a reason, are you not?", you wish you had never committed those crimes.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗
Your memory of last night is quite hazy. You barely remember what happened after the 8th or maybe 10th round, you can't even recount. Zihao's inhuman stamina lasted all night long. When you awoke, it was already noon, long past when you're usually awake. Instead of finding yourself alone in your own bed, you turn to the side to be face to face with the dragon's peaceful face. His long eyelashes cast a shadow over his shut eyes. It's a completely different view compared to the night before. You could barely move anything. With the bruises all over your body, people would have thought you got into a fight if it weren't for the hickeys on every part of your body. Your neck, your chest, your thights, everywhere. You stared at the one who caused these on your body. Wondering what to do with this whole thing.
"What happened last night...", you question yourself quietly, trying not to awaken the man infront of you. You try to recall the best you can about last night. "Something about mate and..", you look at him to confirm your suspicions. Purple horns, a long scaly tail and serpent eyes from which you still remember due to how intimidating they were last night. Yep. He truly is a dragon. The one you've heard about ever since you were a baby. All your life, you thought all those stories were just crazy talk from old folks. How wrong you were.
Though, even with this being explained, you are still confused about how Zihao is able to have a human form. Not to mention what he meant as being 'his mate' and laying his 'claim' on you. When you go to check your tummy, you can still see the symbol clear as day. The shape is peculiar. The main shape is a circle with a diamond shape inside of it. In the very middle, there is almost a vine-shaped line which stretches out horizontally. The color is an unmistakable purple.
While you're lost in your own thoughts, you fail to notice Zihao's eyes opening slowly. One look at his eyes and you'd wonder why hadn't you suspected him of being non-human earlier. "My dear [Name]?", he calls out for you with a gentle voice, snapping you out of your train of thought. His tail wrapping around your leg once more. "W-wha, wait", caught off guard, you mess up your words. He throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer than before. With his grip being so strong and you being bruised up, you can't really escape this. It's your fate now and whether you like it or not, you have to accept it.
"Your punishment isn't over yet. Did you think one night would compensate the lives you took?", he states the very much obvious thing to him. You look at him with a worried look. What you did was wrong, sure but isn't this too excessive...? Being personally fucked dumb by the Judge every single night without a chance of escaping. God your pride and ego...you're not even sure if they survived last night, let alone several more nights. With a hesitant tone, you ask, "how much longer then?", which he answers without skipping a beat, "If I'm not wrong, it'll take about 7,783,457 more years", "WHAT!? Are you forgetting I'm a human? My life span's like 60 more years if I'm lucky, I'll die long before then", you yell at his outrageous words, trying to get up but eventually being pushed nack down. He chuckles, finding your reaction very amusing. "Don't fret, you're now the dragon's mate, you will live for as long as I do.", there he goes again about you being his mate. "And..how long is that exactly..", Zihao smiles sweetly, "we have the rest of eternity for us", you can almost see his face glowing as these words come out his mouth.
"Hold on, I have loads of other questions. What did you mean by having your kids??? On top of being human, I'm a human MALE", you emphasize the male part. It's common knowledge that males don't have wombs and, therefore, can not get impregnated. Perhaps it was just dirty talk? "Oh, of course you can, see this? It's proof you can", he rubs your tummy once more, gesturing at the mark he had left last night. You're flustered by his choice of words and instinctually lift your hand up to hit him for even saying such things, only to be stop in your tracks once more. "My dear, don't be like that", his expression is smug. He knew you were going to hit him sooner or later. "I guess I better make sure you learn your lesson instead of spoiling you."
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This man has my heart rn 😍☝️ I have so many ideas for him in the future.
Speaking of ideas, my next oc is an middle aged man/dilf 😋
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tastesousweet · 4 months ago
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⭒ blurb : roommate!hamzah goes bald .. & "we listen and we don't judge"
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roommate!hamzah x poc!reader
summary : blurb and smau in which hamzah is bald now and roommate!reader begs him to do the tiktok trend "we listen and we don't judge"
mickey speaks : hiii love u slushies & more of my hamzah works can be found here <3
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youruser
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Liked by kynewman, mandys_iphone, and others
yourusername this lyfe toooooo sweet 💭❤️
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enyaumanzor hi ur so fucking cute • ♥︎ by author
yourusername MUUAHHHHH
mandys_iphone my heart skipped a beat • ♥︎ by author
yourusername can i get a little kiss kiss?
thatmartinkid Uh well no cus she's actually my Girlfriend 🤓!
yourusername omg go somewhere else lil boy !!!!!
ynfan ooooweeeeee i needed this yes lawdd • ♥︎ by author
hamzahandyntruther RIP HAMZAH CURLS and HELLO HAMY/N CONTENT!!!!!! #loserscanalsobewinners 🤔? • ♥︎ by author
hamzahthefantastic mmmbruh • ♥︎ by author
yourusername mmmmokay
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--- we listen and we don't judge
you start the video and lean back to get you both in frame, causing hamzah to yelp in panic as he tries to push his beanie down over his head quicker, "wait!" his voice strains and you giggle before cutting the clip.
it cuts to both of you silently staring at the camera before hamzah smirks and makes you both laugh.
"okay this one's serious," you say as you lean back after starting the video once more, entirely overlapping hamzah's space (not that he minds). you grab your notebook from beside you on the couch, "ready?"
hamzah who has been following your movements the entire time, is already looking at you when you look over to him, "girl, i've been ready. you're the one with the giggles"
"the attitude is crazy"
"aht!" he raises a finger while stretching his arm behind you to rest on top of the soft couch, "what do we do?"
you catch on and nod your head with him as you reply together, "we listen and we don't judge"
"right!" he exclaims harshly, catching you off guard, especially when he shakes you by your shoulders slightly. his face drops when you don't laugh and he turns to the camera with his jaw dropped. he shakes his head with a dismissive kiss of his teeth, "wicked reference. you wouldn't get it."
"uh huh, you go first hamzah." he rubs your shoulder before putting his hand back onto the couch to rest.
he clears his throat, "'kay, sometimes when i'm really bored and you're like showering, or something, i move around something in your room. it's like something small you don't notice like switching where a stuffed animal is on your bed or somethin'"
your smile falls the more he speaks, "oh. starting off strong!"
the camera cuts and you're both overly-smiling, "we listen and we don't judge!!"
"when i'm like really hungry..." you look into his eyes, "this is like middle of the night, right, and i'll go into the kitchen and just sneak a bite or two of your leftovers-"
"oh nahhhh, what the hell??? y/n!"
"no! listen! like, if there's nothing else to eat!"
hamzah pouts slightly, "that's just evil, bro"
"you want me to starve? okay, i'll just starve next time and you'll be sorry!"
"no i won't" he squints his eyes, "and don't start that gaslightin-"
the clip cuts to you both excitedly repeating, "we listen and we don't judge!"
"well sometimes when you get home late from hanging out with people i'll hop in bed and fake being asleep because i like it when you sit there and harass me to wake up," he smiles menacingly.
"ew, you're a freak! you like when i beg for your attention???" you question while laughing.
"well yes!"
"we listen and we don't judge!"
"i hid your contacts for like three days once because i thought you looked cute with your glasses on" you say it with a smile as if it wasn't such a devious act.
"what?" hamzah turns to laugh at you, "pardon???"
"we listen and we don't judge."
"well, i got really drunk once and peed in your bathtub."
your face is still before you blink and look at him with a smile threatening to split, "when was this??"
"uhhhh, i dunno. i think like a month or two ago, but martin was using your toilet and i literally couldn't hold it-"
"so you pissed in my tub with martin stood inches away?"
hamzah begins to laugh so hard he can barely get out his breathy, "yes, exactly"
"i actually hate the image you just put in my head oh my god!!!!" you squeal and melt yourself into your cascading giggle-fit and sink further into hamzah's side.
you both laugh together- the kind of laughter that overpowers your entire being, when your eyes are squinted and there is no air in your lungs to produce an abundant sound any longer.
hamzah breaks his hold on you to wipe his eyes and reach for your phone yelling, "turn this shit off"
it cuts to a final clip of you smiling with your head resting on top of hamzah's as you pet his beanie-clad head, "bald!"
"enough!!!" the video gets blurry before cutting off as hamzah manhandles you off of him.
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1K notes · View notes
shiimmer · 5 months ago
Text
cherry kiss
sevika x f!stripper!reader
warnings! pole dancing (if that can be taken as a warning), public sex(??), fingering, orgasm denial, pussy slapping, slight choking, cunnilingus, masturbating, hair pulling, dom!sevika, sub!reader, sevika is a bit mean but we love it, she gets called ma’am once
men and minors dni!!
no mentions of y/n, but reader is called by her stage name cherry
word count: 3.4k words (i got a little too passionate…)
ৎ୭ summary: sevika found herself in a strip club, only to end up getting a lot more than a simple lap dance.
note: wrote smut for the first time in years, and idk how to feel. excuse me if this is absolutely shit, i was sleep deprived every time i was writing this. sorry for any errors, english isn’t my first language. not proofread!!
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it isn’t exactly the place sevika usually finds herself in. strip clubs are not her thing. she prefers action over mere watching, but today just wasn’t it. not even a good lay in babette’s brothel can save her sour mood, which is more than surprising even for her. she doesn’t even know why she’s here. she just needs a distraction, and she knows the quietness of her place would only deepen her stress, which is something she really does not want right now, no matter how well she can handle it.
so here she is, in a strip club, surrounded by cheap smelling perfume, neon signs casting some light around the dimly lit place. boasting laughter, cheers and all sorts of other noises she’d rather block out from men around her fill her ears as they watch women dancing on the stage and sway around the pole. sevika, however, is completely silent. almost eerily so.
she just watches. glares, more like as she sits in the booth, awaiting another stripper nicknamed cherry, as the announcer says. ‘silly choice of a name,’ she thinks. her leg bounces under the table, swirling the whisky she just took a sip of on her tongue as the curtain spreads open, revealing you, and her body goes still. it’s like a spell, and sevika isn’t quite sure what has her so mesmerized the second you appear on that long, runway-like stage, neon lights shining on your almost naked body, the way they enhance the confident aura you give out. her grey eyes are focused solely on you, almost as if she’s judging your every movement. from the sway of your hips, to the subtle bounce of your breasts in that skimpy red bra as you stride toward the pole and your fingers wrap around the metal one by one.
a low hum rumbles in the back of her throat, a mixture of curiosity and appreciation while watching you perform. you clearly know what you’re doing, that sevika can see, and it works. even on her. she’d rather die than admit it out loud to anyone, but you have your charm to you and she likes it.
it’s like she’s not even blinking, at least that’s how it feels to you. you notice the woman’s gaze the second you approach the pole, and how it never moves away, not even when she takes a sip of her whisky. your coworkers shared their experience whenever they left the stage, saying how sevika’s glare caused them to nearly mess up their performance. in all honesty, it had made you nervous yourself while you waited for your own turn. dancing before a woman of such power, it’s nothing like dancing for all those nobodies who salivate over a sliver of skin shown. but as you had taken a first step on that stage, with your gaze immediately falling on her, all of that vanishes into something else, something you just can’t explain with words.
you give it your all, making sure to give her the show she never forgets and possibly needs, based on the worn out look she wears on her face. your body moves to the rhythm of the same song you always have to dance to. the song you’re normally so sick of, now gives you a rush. you dance with newfound passion, happy to show off your skills and body to silco’s number two. you play with her, yet you give her the most of you. fingertips lingering on your skin a second longer as you caress your body, from your hips to your breasts. looking over your shoulder when you’re turned towards the pole, the corners of your lips twitching up when you bend forward, showing off your thong-clad rear. it’s all for her, and you are absolutely enjoying the attention.
the endless cheering and lewd comments from men are fully blocked in your mind, your goal as clear as piltover’s sky. you want to make this woman watch you until the very end, to have her gaze on you and you only.
and oh, does it work. sevika’s gaze does not move away from you even when your performance ends and you go back backstage, and you’re certain her eyes are focused on your thighs as you walk. the euphoria you feel after this dance was nothing you’ve ever experienced. for the first time since working here, you’re almost disappointed that you had to leave the stage. your theme song that usually drags on suddenly felt short. you want to give her more of you, all of you.
you sulk in your seat, fixing up your neatly done makeup. there isn’t any need to fix it, you just want to get your mind off of the woman, but it’s completely useless. her grey eyes pollute your brain, and you can still see them when you close your eyes. never in your life were you this desperate for someone, it’s almost embarrassing. you sigh and put the makeup brush done, pursing your lips together. you wonder if you’ll see her again, if you’ll get to dance for her just like you had just a moment ago. you would give her more than just a plain dance show, so much more.
your thoughts get abruptly interrupted by your boss, her voice loud and demanding as she calls out to you. all you can do is hold back an eye roll and get up from the chair, making her way over to her with a look that can only be described as ‘i don’t get paid enough for this.’
“you’re expected in the vip salon,” she bites, her wrinkles crinkling under that heavy layer of makeup. “it’s a very important guest. don’t fuck it up.”
she taps your chest with her point finger, long nail stabbing your skin, and leaves the backstage. you watch her arrogant stomp, scoffing under your breath as soon as she’s far enough from you to not hear it. she calls every guest important, even the scummiest man in zaun is a ‘special guest.’ you know why she says it, she wants you to do your best, to not embarrass her brand, but it quickly gets annoying than encouraging.
your heels thump against the floor as you walk slowly to the salon, your mind running at full speed. you can only hope it’s sevika, but a part of you doubts it. there is no way she liked your performance so much she’d pay for private dance, right?
oh, how wrong you were.
the second you open the fluffy curtain, you’re met with those same steel eyes, belonging to none other than sevika. you eye her up and down, taking in the way she sits on the couch, her muscular thighs spread open and her exposed arm thrown over the backrest. you linger on the bare part of her lower stomach, abs peeking out of the crop top and v-line disappearing under the waistband of her pants. it’s a downright sinful sight, almost picture worthy.
“i didn’t pay for you to just stand there, did i?” her deep voice catches you off guard, and your eyes travel back up to her face. she’s smirking at you, fully aware of your gawking.
you can only pray to janna to survive this dance, secluded in a small room with this dangerously sexy woman.
“right. sorry,” you give her a small apologetic grin while walking to the small music box in the corner to tune in a song.
your hands are shaking a little, but it’s hardly nervousness. it’s excitement, anticipation, maybe even a hint of arousal. your blood is running hot, and you can feel a kick of energy, as if dosed on shimmer. none of your customers made you feel this way, but her.
your hands are already wrapped around the silver pole with your back facing her, ready to move to the music until her voice echoed in your ears.
“come here.”
your whole body stiffens, the music blocked out in your mind. being a stripper for years, never had you actually danced in front of a client. it’s sort of a rule for you; just watch but no touch, but when it comes to sevika, you are more than ready to forget it all just to please her. you pull yourself away from the pole and walk up to her, hands running over your sides. her eyes never leave your face and, by the gods, shivers run down your spine in waves, running all the way between your legs.
three more steps, and you finally stand between her spread thighs, and only now that you stand so close you notice just how damn thick they are. she looked better up close, no art or photo of her could do her justice, that you are sure of. a smirk makes its way on sevika’s lips as she watches your hips sway, your fingertips tap and stroke your skin. she is so into it, her hand is practically itching to just grab you by the waist and drag you down on her thigh.
it’s as if your minds link for a moment, because your smaller hand finds hers, guiding it to your stomach. sevika doesn’t react, at least not visibly, though you can’t say that about yourself. the second her rough, calloused palm runs over your abdomen to your hip, your body reacts on its own, almost like it isn’t even connected to your brain. she pulls you down on her leg, chuckling under her breath as your breath hitches. she has you where she wants you, and you can only comply to her every wish.
“babette’s is a few blocks away, y’know?” you mutter breathlessly, and you can only curse yourself out for how affected you are by her mere presence. it’s embarrassing, humiliating even, but you are oh so close to not give a single fuck. “someone can catch us here.”
sevika chuckles once more, liking your slightly mouthy attitude. it makes her want to put you in your place, take out her bad mood on you in all the ways she can. “by the way you’re reacting, i doubt you even give a damn,” her voice fills your ears, laced with a playful biting tone. “cherry.”
you suddenly feel coldness of a metal on your arm, pointy ridges of metal fingers digging into the flesh. she moves you around like a rag doll, like you weight nothing to her, until you straddle both of her legs and your thighs are spread apart. “tell me, what kind of services can you offer for extra coin?” she teases you, her thick fingers toying and pulling on the string of your thongs, making it snap back to your skin. “besides a little lap dance.”
the air is thick with tension, pushing down on your shoulders. it’s an intense, sexual sensation, one you can barely get enough of. you feel as if you are getting dragged by the ankle into the deep pit of unbridled lust, and it bubbles deep in your belly. you crave her.
you yearn for her.
“for you? anything,” you muster up the last bits of your attitude and smirk at her, your hand coming up to her right shoulder to steady yourself. “free of charge.”
it’s all sevika needs, and in a matter of seconds, she pounces on you, her lips running along your pulse. she doesn’t kiss, not yet. she merely toys with you, shapes you to her liking until you are but a mess. every touch of hers has a purpose, and unlike in a brothel, she is taking her sweet damn time. she’s frustrating herself by this point, all of the shit she had to deal with were simmering under the lid and ready to leak out, but something in her told her to utterly wreck you.
the music continues to play, silencing every small noise that escapes from your mouth. her fingers start to travel lower, following the fabric of the lace until the fingertips hover just above your clothed clit. she doesn’t even brush over it, yet you can feel your cunt clench around nothing. you bit on your bottom lip as sevika’s fingers linger on your thong, cheap cherry taste of your lipstick hitting your tongue.
“means that i can do this, right?” she asks into your skin, finally putting pressure on your clit. you jump in her lap, the sudden touch making you flinch away.
sevika doesn’t let you move away. she only chuckles when her mechanical arm goes down to your hip, pinning you to her lap like you are her trophy. there is no way she’s letting you go now, she wants to see you tremble.
your mind is hazy, and so foggy you can barely think of anything other than her, and the feeling of her fingers circling over your sensitive clit.
“do anything you want. i’m here to give you a show, aren’t i?” you try to keep your bravado, but it collapses like a house of cards the second her hand slips under the fabric, touching your cunt.
“fuck, you’re wet,” she laughs at you, pulling away from the crook of your neck to look into your eyes. “are you that desperate, or what?”
you cry out in pleasure as an answer, which is all she needs. her fingers tease your clit, circling it, pinching it between her thumb and point finger, which only makes you wetter for her. it’s as if you’ve never had a good fuck in your life, and she is there to fix that.
sevika continues to tease you for a few lingering seconds, simply enjoying the sight of you crumbling beneath her touch, until she moves lower and leaves your swollen bundle of nerves twitching, yearning for contact. she doesn’t waste time to slip not one, but two of her fingers into your drenched hole, stretching it out.
“oh fuck,” you groan out once you feel her fingers move, pumping into you in a rough, but slow pace.
she keeps them curled just right, brushing over that sweet spot that makes your back arch and your eyes roll back. it’s clear that she is experienced, because she knows just how to touch you to keep you shivering in her lap. you drop your head to look at her hand moving between your legs, but sevika doesn’t allow you that for long.
her prosthetic hand shoots up to your neck, cocking your head upwards to keep you from looking away. she only applies little pressure to your throat, not hard enough to choke you out, but rather a little warning.
“eyes on me, cherry,” she rasps out, her eyes so intense it sends shivers down your spine. “be a good girl.”
her voice has you clenching around her fingers, pathetic mewls of pleasure rolling out of your mouth. you have no choice but to keep your gaze on her, your sight blurry and slightly unfocused as sevika’s fingers continue to fuck your cunt. as much as she enjoys the sounds you’re making, your voice is slowly starting to get louder than the music that still plays in the background.
with the metal hand on your throat, she tugs you forward, crashing her lips on your in a bruising kiss to swallow the moans you’re letting out. she doesn’t give you a chance to let you dominate the kiss as her tongue slides into your mouth. she is in charge, and she’s letting you know it.
the taste of hard liquor and smoke hits your tongue, but you’re too deep in pleasure to cringe at the taste. in all honesty it turns you on even more. the sensation of her thick fingers, pumping in and out of your drenched pussy combined with her mouth on yours make you go crazy. you are so close, your orgasm just a few thrusts away.
the way your walls clench and unclench tells sevika that you’re about to cum, but where is the fun in giving you what you want so early. she pulls her fingers out, and when you try to whine in protest, she lands a few hard smacks on your cunt. you can feel the slaps even through the fabric of your lingerie, that’s how rough she is.
“not yet, cherry. i’m far from done with you,” she mumbles when she pulls away from the kiss, her lips glistening with the mixture of your and her saliva. she grins, reaching for one of many fluffy cushions and throwing it on the floor underneath you. “on your knees.”
she lets go of your throat, letting you sink down on the floor. your knees nuzzle into the softness of the pillow, hands falling on the buckle of her belt to undo it. sevika lifts her hips when you unbutton her pants, letting you pull them down along with her underwear. she pulls one leg out to spread her legs more, giving you space to get closer.
you don’t dive in right away. instead, you run your tongue over her thighs, all while looking up at her. it’s like your little revenge on her for teasing you before, and for not letting you cum. sevika grits her teeth, her nostrils flaring a little. a woman normally with patience of steel is suddenly a ticking bomb, ready to explode.
her real hand moves to your hair, grabbing a fistful of the strands. she doesn’t pull at it, but her grip is tight. “don’t test my patience. not today.”
the tone of her voice, authoritative and commanding gives you chills, your cunt once again clenching around nothing. your eyes wander over her body until it stops on the wet mess between her muscular legs, and that’s all it takes to convince you to give her what she wants.
“yes, ma’am,” you whisper, and sevika’s grip on your hair loosens just enough for you to move.
with one final glance at her face, you delve your tongue into her cunt, moaning at the taste of her. your nose nudges against her swollen clit, which makes her let out a deep moan. her whole expression falters as you eat her out, curses and noises escaping her mouth like a mantra, a sinful prayer.
“you’re good, cherry,” she praises you breathlessly, fingers combing through your hair. “you sure you – oh, fuck – didn’t choose a wrong profession?”
you don’t give her an answer, your mouth being too busy with her pussy to talk. you eat her like a woman starved, like she is your last meal. you can feel her slick staining your chin, but you can hardly care. you only have one goal in mind, and that’s to take her over the edge.
your own cunt throbs whenever she moans, or accidentally tugs at your hair when your tongue laps at her clit. you’re desperate for release, just as you are desperate for her. your hand slowly slides into your panties, chasing your orgasm as your fingers rub your clit.
sevika can see what you’re doing, but all she can think about is how well your mouth pleases her. she tries to compose herself, to last longer, but the burning sensation in the pit of her stomach is getting unbearable, the coil ready to snap at any moment. all she needs is one final push.
and you give it to her. your lips wrap around her clit, sucking on it, which is what sends sevika over the edge. she throws her head back and moans out loud, not even caring who might hear outside of the salon. she cums into your mouth, her thighs squeezing your head. your own orgasm follows right after, and you whimper into her cunt. your back arches, you can’t pull away nor can you catch a breath, not when her muscular thighs keep you in a lock. your whole lower face is buried in her cunt for a few seconds, and you have to tap on her thigh to let you go, your lungs begging for air.
she looks down at you and realization hits her, her legs spreading apart again to let you move. you both gasp for air when you pull away, pants filling the room. the music stopped playing a while ago, and it dawns on you that your time with her should’ve ended minutes ago. yet you find yourself unable to actually leave the salon, not when you have just silco’s second-in-command cum like that.
sevika, who is not in a better state than you, feels the same. she grins down at you, her hand caressing your hair with gentleness that’s almost uncharacteristic to her.
“you may be a stripper, cherry, but i think you just found yourself a regular.”
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street-smarts00 · 9 days ago
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Wish You Were Sober
Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
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Summary: The four times you confessed to Spencer while drunk, and the one time you did it sober
WC: 8.0 k
Tags/warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, lot’s of mention of alcohol consumption, regretting things said while drunk, drunk flirty reader, reader is emotionally constipated and doesn’t want to feel her feelings at first
A/N: chat I’ve been sitting on this for MONTHS it’s been marinating in my google docs for a while so hope you enjoy! I lowkey picture this happening in earlier seasons Spence but picture whatever you like ;) Beta read by the lovely @whats-yesterday00
The first time it happened, your feelings were just starting to peek through the surface. 
You tried your hardest to shove them back down. Trying to convince yourself that developing the beginnings of a crush was absolutely not happening. But the alcohol opened the door you tried to close.
The whole team went out for drinks on a friday night. After multiple shots with Derek and JJ, plus the drinks you had before that, you were feeling quite a buzz. A buzz that always left you more flirty and courageous than normal. 
You were busy dancing amongst the crowd with Penelope and JJ. The music was flowing through you all as it blasted throughout the bar. The movement and crowd caused the temperature to rise exponentially. 
You wiped the sweat forming on your forehead and paused your dancing. 
“What’s wrong?” JJ asked. 
“I’m melting,” you answered, fanning yourself. “I gotta go sit down.” 
Penelope blew you a kiss and said, “be back soon!” as you made your way to the table. You of course blew a kiss back to her. 
After weaving through the mass of people, you approached the table housing the rest of your coworkers with a heavy sigh. 
“You done partying already, pretty girl?” Derek teased. 
“No, not yet. I just need a breather. It feels like 1000 degrees right now.” You sat down across from him and next to Spencer. 
Derek’s attention was pulled towards someone behind you. A smirk grew on his face, “Oh Reid look, it’s that girl from earlier she’s back.” 
Spencer’s face flushed at Derek’s remark. 
“What girl?” you asked intrigued. You hated the taste that question left in your mouth. 
“It’s nothing,” Spencer tried to brush off before Derek interrupted. 
“She was flirting with him when he went up to the bar.” 
“She was not!” Spencer squeaked. 
Derek chuckled, “oh yes she was,” his eyes turned back to you. “She was definitely into him. And judging by the fact that she keeps looking over here, I think she wants to talk to him again.”
Spencer hid his face in his hands and quietly groaned.
“Why don’t you go over there? Go talk to her,” you encouraged while silently hoping he doesn’t leave the table.
Spencer lifted his face from his hands. His face was scarlet now. 
“I can’t.” 
“Why not?” 
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but cut himself off. He saw your eyes staring back at him and felt his palms getting sweaty. He swallowed and stuttered on his words. “Because I wouldn’t know what to say. I can’t flirt.” 
Derek leaned back in his chair, dissatisfied with his answer. “That’s bull.” 
“It’s not bull.” That was probably the closest you came to hearing Spencer curse. “I’d probably make a fool of myself and say something stupid.” 
“Spencer, you say a lot of things,” this earned a chuckle from Derek across the table, “But I don’t think you could ever say something stupid.” 
Spencer tried to resist the smile spreading on his face from your compliment. 
“Still doesn’t change the fact that once I open my mouth, she’ll lose all interest in me.” 
A small pout appeared on your lips. “Well, I don’t see how a girl wouldn’t find you endearing.” 
“Really?” He didn’t believe you. 
“Yes! I thought you were so cute when I first met you,” your eyes brightened. “The day we met, I remember you were rambling about something and I just sat there amazed.” 
He swallowed as his ears turned crimson. “You thought I was cute?” his voice cracked at the end of his question.
“Sweetie, I think you’re more than cute,” your voice lowered as you locked eyes with him. 
“Morgan calls you pretty boy for a reason,” you continued with a mischievous glint in your eyes. 
Spencer’s heart damn near stopped. He knew your playful demeanor was from the amount of drinks you’d consumed, but still seeing you so openly attracted to him was making him delirious. 
Morgan, of course, found the whole interaction to be the most intriguing thing he’d seen all week. The growing amused smile on his face was telling enough. 
“Wow I think that girl from the bar has got some competition,” he teased. 
You shrugged in response to his comment. “Maybe,” was all you gave as your answer. You stood up from your chair with Spencer's eyes still beaming at you. 
“I’m gonna go dance some more,” you turned to the man next to you. “You wanna come with, pretty boy?”
Spencer struggled to get the words out for a few seconds. “I can’t. I don’t know how to dance.” 
You tried to hide the disappointment on your face but the gleam in your eyes had dimmed. 
“Maybe next time,” you replied before making your way back to the girls. 
Spencer watched you walk away and disappear into the crowd. He then received an extensive amount of teasing and questions as to why he didn’t say yes from Morgan for the next 20 minutes while you were gone. 
Over the weekend, the hangxiety set in. You layed in bed staring at the ceiling as the memories from Friday night flooded your mind. 
The anxiety followed into Monday as you stood in the elevator. The doors opened to the sixth floor and you reluctantly dragged yourself to the bullpen. 
Your hands tightened around your bag as you approached your desk. Spencer’s eyes lingered on you as you set your things down
“Morning,” he greeted with a small smile.  
“Morning,” you mumbled. 
You fidgeted with your hands and stepped closer to his desk. 
“Listen Spence, about Friday night… l’m sorry I was flirty with you.” 
His cheeks turned a dusty rose at the memory. “It’s alright.” 
This still didn’t ease your worries. “Are you sure?  The last thing I want is for you to feel uncomfortable around me. Especially because of something I did.”
His eyes softened when he noticed just how nervous you were. 
“I don’t, I promise,” he reassured. 
“So we’re okay?”
He nodded with a small smile and the weight started to lift off your shoulders. 
___________________________________________
The second time it happened was a few weeks later. 
It was Derek’s birthday. The whole team went out to dinner followed by a trip to the bar to keep the night going. 
Spencer stayed behind at the table, watching you order drinks and chat with Emily at the bar. He also tried to ignore the angry green feeling surfacing as the bartender flirted with you. 
“So, are you finally gonna dance with her tonight?” Derek asked the young man as he sat down beside him. 
Spencer sighed as he kept his eyes trained on you. “I don’t know.” 
His friend patted him on the back, “Come on man. Consider it my birthday present.” 
Spencer turned his attention to the man beside him. “I already got you a present.” 
“Kid,” Rossi interjected from farther down the table, “in my professional opinion, when a woman asks you to dance, you dance.” 
This brought out a smile from Hotch. 
“Even if you think you’ll look like a fool,” Rossi continued. 
“Like two weeks ago when that woman asked Morgan to dance,” Hotch teased, which brought out an annoyed expression from the man in question. 
“Hey! I was not that bad,” Derek defended. 
“You looked like a bird doing a mating dance,” Spencer now joined in. 
Derek looked appalled from the younger man’s joke. 
Soon after you approached the table with Emily. “What’s so funny?” You asked the table.
”Morgan's attempts to woo women,” Rossi joked. 
Emily took a sip from her drink and rolled her eyes playfully. “Oh where do I begin?” 
Derek stood up from the table shaking his head and smiling. “Well, I’m gonna go dance with people who appreciate my moves.” He then made his way to the open area where Penelope and JJ were. 
Back at the table, before you could sit down, the speakers of the bar started to play Maneater by Nelly Furtado. You gasped and a bright smile filled your features. 
“I love this song!” You squealed. 
You set your half consumed drink down on the table and looked at Spencer, “Do you want to go dance?” 
He looked at you surprised. “Me?” He squeaked. 
You giggled, finding his reaction cute, “Yes you!”
Spencer started closing in on himself. Before he could come up with the excuse he used last time you said, “I can teach you. It’ll be so much fun!” 
You were oblivious to the knowing looks from your other team mates at the table. Your focus was only on Spencer. Staring deep into his golden eyes and finding nothing but comfort. 
“Okay,” he agreed with a small smile. 
You beamed with excitement, “Yay! Let’s go.” You offered your hand to him. He took it and found you pulling him up from his chair and towards the dance floor. 
He followed you through the people in the crowd until you found an open space to settle. You held onto his hands as you swayed to the beat. 
Spencer tried to follow you but was still noticeably tense. He was also less focused on his dancing because he was too enamored by your movements. Watching you sway so effortlessly with the rhythm. 
“Look at you Spence! You’re getting the hang of it,” you praised. 
He appreciated the compliment but cringed, “I feel awkward.” 
“That’s not how dancing should feel. You should feel free and loose.” You let go of his hands and spun around.
A real smile spread on his lips, “I’m surprised you’re this coordinated with how many drinks you’ve had.” 
“Oh, I guess you missed when I almost stepped on you.” 
He chuckled, shaking his head, “I guess I didn’t.” 
The song ended and changed to Don’t Stop The Music by Rihanna. Your jaw dropped and your face filled with excitement. 
“You like this song?” he asked even though he already knew the answer. 
You grabbed his hands once more and grinned, “Yes!” You resumed dancing with his hands in yours. This time you were mouthing the lyrics of the song. 
I gotta get my body moving, shake the stress away you heard from the speakers and shook Spencer's hands. 
“You gotta shake the stress baby!” you cheered at him. 
He bashfully laughed watching you drunkenly shout. And hearing you call him baby, but that’s beside the point.
As the song played your hips and shoulders moved to the rhythm of the music. He wasn’t as successful as you when it came to swaying his hips but he could move his shoulders and copy you. 
Who knew that you’d be up in here lookin’ like you do?
You took a step back and gestured to him as the song said. Spencer shook his head and pulled on your hands to bring you back closer to him. 
Do you know what you started? I just came here to party
You took him pulling you back as a way to sneak your arms around his neck. 
But now we're rockin’ on the dance floor actin’ naughty 
Spencer’s cheeks started to turn red at the closeness. 
Your hands around my waist, just let the music play
You retracted your hands to grab his and place them on your waist. 
We’re hand in hand, chest to chest, and now we’re face to face 
By the time your arms returned wrapped around his neck, his ears were crimson. With your arms around him your shirt raised slightly. His hands met the gap of your skin that was exposed. 
Even though he felt like his insides were going to melt, he kept his hands on you and kept dancing. Spencer followed the steps you took, the way you moved back and forth. He was finally starting to let the music flow through him. 
You definitely took notice. It only made you more eager to dance with him. 
As the song continued into the next verse you grew more confident. 
Don’t you feel the passion ready to explode? 
Your hands moved to his shoulders. You moved in closer, and with a playful smirk sang along the words so Spencer could hear. 
What goes on between us, no one has to know
Just when Spencer thought the fluttering in his stomach couldn’t get worse, you leaned in close to his ear and whispered the next lyric.
This is a private show
The air between you was magnetic. It felt like you were in your own little world. Like the rest of the bar goers were gone. Suddenly, it was just you two on that dance floor. 
Spencer’s face was inches away from yours. You were so close you could count the freckles on his pink cheeks. 
“You look so cute, all flustered,” you muttered. 
He licked his lips nervously, “I’m not used to dancing like this with someone.” 
“Are you having fun at least?” 
“Yes,” he answered instantly. 
“Well then, we should do this more often,” you offered with a sweet smile. 
As the song came to an end you leaned up and left a kiss on Spencer’s cheek. You took a step back to fully look at him. His eyes slightly widened and his lips parted from your peck on his cheek. 
“I love dancing with you,” you released your hold on his shoulders. The ghost of your touch was still hot on his skin. “Hopefully we can do this again.” 
His eyes shined as he looked at you, “I’d like that.” 
________________________________________
The third time it happened, Spencer got a phone call at 12:04 am. 
He was resting on his couch, nose deep in a book, when he heard his phone buzz. He breathed a sigh of relief at the caller ID revealing it to be you instead of Hotch with a new case. 
When he answered, he heard loud music and faint voices in the back. 
“Hello?” 
You quickly answered back, “Spencer! I didn’t wake you, did I?” Your voice had a higher pitch than normal. 
“No, I was just reading. What’s up?” 
“I went out to a bar for girls night but…I had one too many drinks,” you whined. 
He sat up straighter, “are you alright?” 
There was a pause before you spoke again. “The room is spinning. I’m really dizzy and everything is overwhelming,” you mumbled. Hearing you sound so scared and small made his heart hurt. 
“I didn’t want to bother the girls because they’re having so much fun and none of them can drive right now.” 
Before you could finish your statement, he was already standing up and walking to find his shoes and jacket. 
“Do you want me to pick you up?” He knew the answer. 
“Please. Can you?” you begged. 
Spencer was grabbing his keys and out the door in a heartbeat. “Of course, I’m on my way.”
Ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot. He walked inside and looked around the crowded room. A few meters away, a hand rose from a booth and waved him over. 
He followed it and found Emily, JJ and Penelope keeping you company at the booth. You rested your head in your arms, which were folded on the table. 
JJ carefully tapped your arm, “hey, your ride is here.” 
You slowly lifted your head up and beamed at the sight of him. 
“Hi.”
“Hi,” he said softly. 
“They found me,” you said pointing to your friends. “They said they would babysit me until you showed up.” 
He chuckled and lightly rubbed your shoulder, “You okay? You think you can walk to the car?” 
You nodded and slowly stood up. 
“Text one of us when you get home safe,” Penelope announced. 
You gave a lazy thumbs up in her direction and turned to Spencer, “Can you remind me to do that?” 
The corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. “Of course. Come on, let's get you home,” he nodded towards the door. 
You waved and said goodbye to the girls before Spencer led you through the crowd with his hand in yours. You grasped his hand like it was an anchor in the over-stimulating environment. 
When you stepped outside, the cool breeze caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. The fresh air and dulled sounds were already starting to help you feel better. 
Unfortunately, your balance was still screwed and you managed to trip over air. Before you could fall to the ground, Spencer swiftly reached out and caught you. He helped you stand back up and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. 
“I got you, you’re okay,” he muttered close to your ears. 
Him being so sweet was going to make your stomach twist. 
The rest of the walk to the car he kept his arm around you. Your body instinctively leaned into him and used his frame to keep you upright. 
When you reached his car, he opened the passenger door and let go of his hold on you. You almost whined at the loss of contact. 
“Thanks for coming to get me,” you spoke quietly as he helped guide you into the car.  
Before he closed the door and headed to the driver's seat he offered a kind, “You’re welcome.” 
The beginning of the car ride was quite aside from the hushed music on the radio. You leaned back, slouching in the car seat. 
You watched Spencer’s hands on the wheel instead of the rapidly changing view of the windshield. Your fuzzy mind was trying to focus on anything that wasn't the dizzy spinning feeling that couldn't go away. 
Of course your thoughts were jumbled with images of the man next to you. 
“You’re so nice,” you said with a fond look. 
He looked at you with brief confusion over your random declaration. “Thanks,” he returned his eyes to the road. 
You shuffled in your seat to face him. 
“No you’re really nice,” you huffed, frustrated he somehow didn’t understand the full scope of what your drunk brain meant. “You’re so kind and sweet to everyone. I love it.” 
An amused smile grew on his face. “I try to be,” he returned.  
“You are.” 
He quickly glanced over to see your figure leaning against the seat. Or more like the seat holding you up. Your eyes occasionally felt heavy, leading to your eyelids fluttering every so often. 
“You look half asleep,” he teased. 
“I feel half asleep.” 
“Then why are you so chatty all of a sudden?” 
You shrugged, “I don’t know, just feel like talking.” 
You forced your eyes open to get a better look at him. “I like talking with you.” 
Spencer tried not to think about how your voice was much more soft and melodious than normal. 
“I like talking with you too,” he affirmed. 
He suddenly went down a mental rabbit hole of your previous conversations with him. How often you conversed over coffee early in the morning. All those plane rides home where you both had to stifle your laughter so as to not bother the others. Or the dozens of times he rambled to you about endless topics. 
“I’m surprised I haven't bored you yet with how much I talk.” 
“Oh sweetie, I could never get bored of you.” 
His ears started to turn red at the flirtatious tone in your voice. 
“I could listen to you talk for hours. Even about things I don’t understand. I’ll always listen to you,” you continued.
“Really?” He muttered with a slight voice crack. His heart rate was steadily growing. 
“Uh huh,” you confirmed sweetly. 
His eyes darted to yours for a fleeting moment. You looked completely and utterly enraptured by him. 
“Your voice sounds like honey.”
Spencer's grip on the steering wheel tightened. He kept his gaze trained on the road ahead. 
“We’re almost at your apartment,” he deflected. 
Your smile fell slightly. 
The air in the car was growing stale by the seconds. Neither of you spoke until he pulled up to your building. 
As you reached for the door handle, he whispered for you to “wait one second.” You complied. He got out of the car and walked to your side. He opened the passenger door and held out a hand for you. 
“What a gentleman,” you said with a smug grin. 
He chuckled and made sure you didn’t stumble as you stepped out of the car. 
“I try,” he replied. 
“You succeed.” 
As you walked together to your apartment, neither of you let go of the other's hand. At your door, you fumbled with your keys. Spencer tried to offer to open the door himself but you shooed away his hand and mumbled, “I got it, I got it.” 
After fighting with the lock, you stepped inside and practically threw your bag on the couch. You were seconds away from falling on the couch yourself before Spencer calmly grabbed your shoulders. 
“Come on, let's get you to bed.” 
You whined but didn’t object. He guided you down the hall to your room. In the dark, he reached for your lamp and turned it on. You plopped down on your bed and yawned. 
“Where are your makeup wipes?” He asked, looking around the room.
You pointed towards the dresser, “In the top left drawer.” He followed your directions and returned to your bed, handing the pack to you. 
“See I told you. You’re so nice,” you complimented while lazily cleaning your hours old makeup off. 
“Why because I got you your makeup wipes?” He joked with a playful tone. 
You giggled in response. The sound made Spencer feel like he was the intoxicated one. He would never get used to the way you laughed. 
“No silly, not just that. The fact that you’re still here.”
You tried and failed at getting your lipstick and eyeliner off. Instead you smeared the deep colors around your face. 
Spencer’s lips formed a thin line, trying not to smile at you smearing your makeup. He grabbed a fresh wipe and kneeled down in front of you. “Here let me help,” he mumbled. With careful hands, he pressed the damp wipe to your face to finish the job. 
“Of course I was going to stay with you,” he acknowledged your previous comment. “I’m not going to just drop you off. I wanted to make sure you were safe and feeling okay.” 
You tried not to smile because his hand was so close to your mouth. Your brain was going to short circuit at the closeness. His face mere inches away. His hand and the skin of your face are only separated by a tiny piece of cloth. 
You watched intently as he used his thumb to wipe off the last bit of lipstick. His movements were desperately slow as he handled you with care. Like you were a fragile statue he couldn’t let break. 
The action made your chest tighten and your heart race. If you had consumed another drink or two back at the bar, you would’ve jumped at the chance to kiss him. 
But instead, you stared deeply into his eyes as he checked your face for any more makeup residue. His pupils were wide. You assumed it was from the dim lighting of the room. 
You may not have been drunk enough to kiss him, but you were drunk enough to joke about it. 
“What if I just kissed you right now?”
His eyes widened and his lips parted in shock. “What has gotten into you?” he questioned in a lighthearted tone. 
“What? it’s not just me! You’re also staring at my lips!” you put your hands up in defense with a mischievous grin. “Just say you wanna kiss me.” 
He chuckled at your antics. “Because I’m taking off your makeup. And what about you staring at my eyes?” 
A grin spread on your face. “I can’t help it. They’re beautiful. Nice to look at.” 
“They’re not that nice.” 
“I beg to differ gorgeous,” you returned with a wink. “I could look at them all day.” 
Spencer smiled as his cheeks turned pink. He looked between your eyes and your lips before his expression faltered for a moment. Like he was mentally stuck on something. 
However, because of your dizzy mind and vision, you didn’t pick up on it. 
He stood back up and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You think you’ll be okay?” 
You nodded, “Yeah. Thanks again for … everything.” 
“You’re welcome.” He started walking towards your bedroom door but before he left the room, he paused. “Don’t forget to let the girls know you got home safe.” 
Your jaw went slack and a hand flew to your forehead, “oh my god you’re right.” 
He fought back a grin from your reaction. “Goodnight,” he offered before he left. 
You waved and said goodnight as his frame left your bedroom. The sound of the front door shutting soon followed. 
Before you passed out for the night you texted penelope you got home safe. But you didn’t see her reply until the morning. 
Penelope: yay! 
Penelope: hope you feel better my sweets <3
Thanks :) I have a raging migraine so I better feel better soon 
Penelope: :(
Penelope: oh btw, how’d it go with boy genius???
Ugh 
I flirted with him AGAIN 
Penelope: you’re kidding! 
Penelope: What did you say?
I can’t remember all of it but at some point I said his voice sounds like honey 
Penelope: OMG
Oh no it gets worse
He helped me take off my makeup and I said I wanted to kiss him. And THEN I pointed out how he stared at my lips and I said “just say you wanna kiss me” 
Penelope: oh girlie
Penelope: I think you have to throw in the towel 
Penelope: you love him
You stared at the words on the screen before your hands could even type a reply. Mentally fighting with yourself about the subject. 
No way
I can’t be in love with him
He’s my friend I can’t do that 
Penelope: I don’t think you have much of a choice  
You sighed and turned off your phone. As you reached for the aspirin bottle, you prayed you wouldn’t do something stupid like this ever again 
You were wrong. 
______________________________________
By the fourth time it happened, almost a month had passed since you asked him to pick you up. 
To celebrate the success of a case, his coworkers and friends wanted to go out for some down time. He thanked them for the invitation but kindly rejected it saying he had previous plans to attend some film festival. In reality, he had been on the fence about attending the film festival and ended up spending the evening at home. 
As much as he wanted an excuse to spend time with you, he couldn’t go through another evening of you flirting with him. 
Normally, it’d be his dream to have you flirt with him and call him sweet names. To hear how much you liked his voice, his eyes, and the way his brilliant mind worked. But the more it occurred, the more confused he felt.
At first, he assumed you were just a flirtatious drunk and there was no meaning behind your advances. But as time went on, he saw your actions and affectionate words had so much desire, so much longing that he started to suspect they were based on real feelings. 
Yet, it was only reserved for the version of you that had multiple drinks running through your system. 
He’d almost given up on asking you how you felt. Almost. 
Something that gave him a glimmer of hope was a voicemail he received. 
In an effort to actually get some sleep, he took a late night shower. When he returned to his bedroom, he found his cell phone had received a voicemail. He checked and saw he missed a call from the very person he was anxiously avoiding. 
With new clean pajamas on, he grabbed his phone and sat down on his bed ready for the possible plea for him to pick you up. He clicked the message and lifted the phone to his ear. 
“Hi Spence! I wanted to talk but it looks like you’re busy,” your voice sounded sweet and bubbly. He deduced you might have already gone home at this point given the fact that this time there was no loud background music or voices.
“I missed you tonight. I wish you came with us. I know that isn’t always your favorite place to be, but I still kinda had hope. I love spending time with you. I don’t care if it’s at work or off the clock, it makes me so happy to see you.”
His heart felt warm from the way you talked about him. Your voice sounded giddy and occasionally you would slur your words. 
“It’s kinda silly but when we don’t have work or plans, I will literally count down the days until I get to see you again. Isn’t that silly? I spend like five or six days of my week with you and when I don’t see you, I’m thinking about when I’ll see you again.” 
Spencer found familiarity in what you were saying. For the last few weeks he found his thoughts were constantly revolving back to you. Whether intentionally or not. 
“I pretty much think about you all the time. It’s becoming a bit of a problem. I don’t mean you’re a problem! The problem is how much I like you. I’ve never liked someone as much as I like you.”
There was a brief pause in your message. He almost thought the voicemail was over until your voice returned softer than before. 
“I’m probably falling in love with you.” 
“And that’s really scary to think about because I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before. You’re different Spence, when I’m around you I feel-“ 
You were cut off by the time limit of the voicemail. Spencer stared at his phone screen with wide eyes. His heart was beating so fast it could’ve jumped out of his chest. 
He finally got an answer to the question that plagued his mind. You loved him back. 
You loved him. 
His whole body was filled with adrenaline. He almost grabbed his keys and drove over to you at that moment. But he knew he had to wait. He couldn’t have this conversation with you while you were still intoxicated and would probably fall asleep by the time he got there. 
Spencer on the other hand, could barely sleep. He was too busy on cloud 9 to come back down and let sleep overtake him. 
The next morning he was practically buzzing with excitement. He got up earlier than normal for work so he could stop by your apartment. 
He nervously knocked on your door. He kept fidgeting by fixing his tie and cardigan while he waited for you. 
When you did open the door he saw you were still in the process of getting ready. You had on dress pants and an old college t-shirt. 
You looked surprised to see him of course since he didn’t announce he was going to come over. “Spencer? What are you doing here?”
Suspicion started to creep its way into his mind. For now he ignored it and pushed on. 
“I thought we could commute to work together. I figured you would be hungover and not in the best mood to drive.” 
Your eyebrows raised and lips turned up. “That is so sweet of you,” you beamed. You opened the door wider, suggesting he was welcome. He followed and walked inside your apartment
“You’re absolutely right by the way. I feel like shit,” you groaned. “My head is killing me, I’m exhausted and I have this massive bruise on my leg.” You waved your hand over your right thigh indicating where the injury was. 
“I have no clue how I got it. I probably fell but I'm not sure. Most of last night is fuzzy, I barely even remember how I got home,” you joked with a chuckle.
The suspicion Spencer felt turned into a pit in his stomach. With furrowed brows he asked the million dollar question. “Do you remember calling me last night?”
You stared at the ground as you tried to shuffle through the vague images of the night before. “No I don’t. What did we talk about?” you asked innocently. 
His grip on the strap of his satchel tightened. “We didn’t. Talk. I couldn’t pick up the phone and didn’t realize you had called me until this morning. That’s why I wanted to stop by. To make sure you were okay.” He topped off his lie with a flat smile. 
”Thanks for checking up on me,” you sweetly replied, not yet aware of the internal mess he was experiencing. 
“It’s no problem,” his voice almost cracked.
“I need to finish getting dressed and brush my teeth but I’ll be ready to leave in like five minutes.” You speed walked back to your bedroom. 
It wasn’t until he heard the door close that he finally let the storm of emotions rip through him. His chest was getting tighter by the second. It felt like he was suffocating. 
You don’t remember. 
You told him you loved him and you don’t remember it at all. The best news he’d heard in months was a blip in your memory. Was late night drunk babbling. 
He felt so foolish. So stupid for thinking you might really reciprocate his feelings. 
One part of himself that was still holding onto hope tried to remember that “drunk words are sober thoughts.” But that’s not always true. 
He knew studies have shown intoxication can lead to someone misinterpreting their own thoughts or feelings. Leading to them impulsively expressing things that they don’t really believe. 
Unfortunately, the factual and heartbroken part of his brain was overwhelming compared to the sliver of hope he had left. 
“Alright, I’m good to go,” you snuck back into the living room. Your voice brought him back to the present. 
You grabbed your purse off the couch and walked towards the front door. As you put on your jacket you noticed the sudden change in Spencer’s demeanor. 
“Spence, you okay?”
”Yeah, I’m fine,” he nodded and answered with a light voice. But you could see right through it. His eyes gave it away. They looked so full of hurt. 
”Spencer-“
”I promise, I’m fine,” he interrupted. He offered you a fake smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He walked to your door and tightly held his bag. “We should go before we hit traffic.” 
You observed him for a few seconds longer than he liked. The profiler side of you wanted to pry but you knew it was a bad idea to push your friend. 
The drive to work was agonizingly quiet. It was odd for you two to barely speak when in close quarters. Instead, you both let the tension hang in the air, ignored and untouched. 
Spencer sat with his feelings for most of the drive. He didn’t want to be hopeful anymore. He didn’t want to be confused if it was real anymore. At this point, he just wanted to give up. 
Now, he’d have to keep a tight lid on his feelings for you. Leave it to fester and wear away at his heart. 
Like that would do any good though. He couldn’t stop loving you no matter how hard he tried. 
____________________________________
The following days felt like a dream to you. But not in a good way. 
It felt like one of those dreams where you know something is off, but can’t tell what it is. 
Spencer had been closed off ever since he picked you up for work. You couldn't wrap your head around why. He seemed so happy and eager when he arrived at your apartment that morning. 
That was the last time you saw him act normal around you. Now there was an underlying bitterness in the words he spoke. Everytime you tried to ask him if he was okay, whatever excuse he gave you left a sour taste in his mouth. 
You weren’t the only one to notice either. Everyone could sense the air go stale when you entered a room he was in. How his eyes no longer lingered on you. Or how it almost pained him to even look at you. 
His sudden change in behavior was starting to drive you insane. You were overthinking and overanalyzing every single interaction you had with him, leading up to that day in your apartment. Every move you made around him was calculated. You were terrified one wrong word or move would make him hate you. 
“He hates me.” 
“He doesn’t hate you,” Penelope swung around in her chair to face you. “I think it’s impossible for him to hate you.” 
You shook your head, “but still he won’t talk to me Pen. He’s always been so open with me and the last few days he’s been shutting me out. He hasn’t been weird around you guys at all.” 
She twirled a sparkly purple pen in her hands as she watched you sulk. “You said it started on Thursday last week?” 
“Yeah, the day after our last case.” 
Penelope sat back in her chair thinking. “Do you think the case bothered him? Could that be why he went home instead of going out with us?” 
“No, I don't think so. The next morning when he showed up at my apartment he was in a good mood. A great mood even,” you folded your arms in frustration. “But when I left the room and came back he looked like a sad puppy.” 
Penelope tapped her pen against her chin. “Why was he at your apartment before work?” 
“Apparently, I called him the night before but he didn’t pick up so he stopped by to check up on me and assumed I’d be hungover.” 
“Awe, that’s sweet,” she cooed before her confusion crossed her features. “Wait, you apparently called him? You’re not sure?” 
You cringed as you explained, “I don’t remember calling him. I was really drunk.” 
She tried to hide the amusement on her face but failed. “Why did you call him?” 
You stared at the floor trying to piece together what happened after you got home that night. “I remember missing him. I wanted to talk to him, but I’m not sure what about.” 
“It’d pay good money to hear whatever voicemail you must’ve left him,” she chuckled with a cheeky grin. 
“Right!” You started to chuckle with her until vague memories of talking on the phone came to light. Your face fell as your drunk declarations were pulled out of your long term memory. 
“Oh god,” you said barely above a whisper. 
Penelope filled with concern, “sweetie what’s wrong?” 
“I did leave him a voicemail. He must have listened to it while I was changing,” your eyes widened and anxiety started flowing through your veins. 
Before she could ask what you said in the message, you interrupted. “I have to go,” you alerted as you remembered Spencer already left the office. “I’ll text you later!” 
You practically ran back to the bullpen to grab your things and tell Hotch you were leaving for the night. 
The car ride to his apartment was agonizing. You gripped the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white.
This was all your fault. He couldn’t stand to be around you and talk to you anymore because you drunkenly told him you loved him. 
You ruined your friendship. 
The least you could do was go to his apartment to try to make things right. Try to fix whatever you have broken. 
You couldn’t lose him. Not Spencer. Not the first man you ever actually truly wholeheartedly loved. Even if he didn’t love you back the same way. You’d rather live with the soul crushing pain of unrequited feelings, than lose one of the most important people in your life. 
The walk to his apartment was even worse than the drive to his building. With every step you took, your heart grew heavier. By the time you weakly knocked on his door, your eyes had started to water. 
When Spencer opened the door, his face fell with concern. 
“I remember,” you whispered before he could ask what was wrong. 
A look of realization dawned on him. He stepped to the side and opened the door wider, “come in.” 
You followed and stood awkwardly in his living room. You’d been here hundreds of times before. But now it feels different. Even though you were welcomed inside it still felt like he was miles away. 
“Spencer, I am so sorry.” 
“For what?” He already knows what you’re talking about, you can see it in his eyes. 
“The voicemail.” 
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You’re sorry for sending it?”
“Yes, no!” you stuttered fidgeting with your rings. “I meant what I said. Every bit of it. I just uh- I wish I had told you all of that when I was sober. Maybe I could’ve phrased it better. Not come off so strong.” 
“Why didn’t you?” he inquired, a hint of desperation in his voice.
He took a single step closer to you. “You could’ve told me.” 
Your eyebrows furrowed at him, “wait, you’re not mad about what I said?” 
He mirrored your confusion, “what do you mean?” 
“All week you’ve been acting weird. I thought you were mad or uncomfortable with me because I said I love you.”
Spencer raised his hand to his face as he realized. “I would never be mad at you for that.” His voice raised slightly in frustration, almost a wine, as he continued, “I was upset because by the time you sobered up, you forgot about it.” 
“Oh,” you whispered —if you could even call it that— under your breath. 
He lied. He listened to the message before he showed up, was going to ask about it, and you forgot like an idiot. 
“You only flirt with me or show interest in me when you're drunk. I couldn’t tell what was real or not,” his expression showed more pain as he spoke.
“Spencer, I promise I really do have feelings for you.”
His lips formed a flat line as he stared back at you. “Then why did you only show it when you were drunk?”
“Because I was scared!” your voice raised. You spoke with your hands as you got louder. “How do you tell your best friend you fell in love with them? You can’t! It just doesn't work. I thought I was going to lose you.”
“I’m in love with you.” 
You deadpanned at him, “Spencer, I’m being serious.” 
“So am I,” he said louder than you. 
The weight of his confession finally settled. Time stood still. The world stopped turning. The hands on the clock stopped ticking. 
His voice was quieter this time when he said it. He spoke in the gentlest tone you’d ever heard from him. Like the words dripped right from his arteries, carrying them away from his heart and to you. 
“I love you.” 
“You do?” 
You don’t know why you asked that. It seemed to be the only thing that could leave your mouth. How could you not believe him when he said those three words like that. Like it was his purpose. That he was put on this earth to love you and only you. 
The realization of what his confession meant started to dawn on you.
“That’s why you were at my apartment. So you could tell me. And I-“ 
You stared at the floor with wide guilty eyes and sat (more like fell) on his couch. The guilt started to creep into your blood. It started to crush your bones. 
“Oh I screwed up everything,” you buried your face in your hands. 
He sat down next to you, “no you didn’t.”
“Yes I did. You have every right to be mad at me.” 
”I'm not,” his hand landed on your back, his thumb slowly caressing you. 
You looked up at him, “really?”
“Yes.” 
You stared back at him, looking unconvinced. 
He surrendered and shrugged, “okay I was kind of crushed about it. But I know now that you really did mean it.” 
“I still hurt you,” you returned meekly. The tears started to return back to your eyes and you blinked them away. 
“I’m so sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?” 
His thumb stopped its movements on your back. With the same hand, he pushed back the hair that had fallen in your face. He looked into your eyes like he wanted to see all of you. See every little crack and crevice of your soul you tried to hide from him in fear of judgment, in fear of him running away. 
He could never run away from you. 
“Tell me everything you wished you could say when you were sober.” 
You sat up straighter and turned to fully face him. After taking a slow deep breath, you said what you’d wanted to say to him for months. 
No liquid courage. Just the pure, raw, unadulterated you. 
“Spencer, I’m in love with you. I couldn’t tell you when I was sober because I was afraid. I was in denial for so long. I tried to convince myself I wasn’t falling for you. And it’s not because I don’t want to have feelings for you. It’s the opposite. I love you so much it scares me.”
You started to play with your rings again. “I’ve never been in love before. I’ve never said it and been sure that I really meant it.”
“I mean it when I say it to you. I know I mean it because I want to spend as much time as I can with you. Doesn’t matter if it’s sitting quietly next to each other on the jet or dancing in a crowded bar. I know I mean it because I’d do anything for you. I’d listen to anything you want to ramble about. I’d drive you anywhere you wanted to go because I know you’re not the biggest fan of driving.” 
You swallowed down the lump you didn’t realize formed in your throat. 
“I always find myself crawling back to you when you’re not near.” 
It was only now you really noticed Spencer's expression. His eyes were soft and dilated so much there was barely any brown left in them. His waterline threatened to spill with tears. 
Before you could even dare to say anything else, he reached to the back of your neck and pulled you closer. His lips mixed with yours in a long awaited dance. 
The kiss wasn’t overwhelmed with passion. But also not too slow and careful. The only way you could describe it was perfect. 
It was perfect. 
He was perfect. 
Every aching moment of yearning and longing leading up to this. 
After kissing for what felt like forever —although you’re pretty sure you could kiss him for forever— you laid down on the couch with your head on his chest. Your arms wrapped tightly around him as if he could disappear at any moment. His one arm wrapped around your waist while the other was playing with your hair. 
“You can stay the night if you want,” he nonchalantly tried to offer without explicitly asking if you would stay over. 
“Do you think we’ll have time in the morning to stop by my apartment to get me fresh clothes?” 
“If not, you could borrow one of my sweaters.” 
You chuckled, “Imagine their faces when we show up to work together and with me very clearly wearing your clothes.” 
He smiled at the thought of you wearing his clothes to work. The image of you proudly showing off that he was yours. “Yeah I can imagine it.” 
976 notes · View notes
duskidolsmut · 13 days ago
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Karina X Male Reader - "Fucking the Dirty Neighbor"
"You live on a quiet street, but everything changes when you start spying on Karina, the hot Korean neighbor who lives next door. She has a habit of taking showers and rubbing herself with cream naked, with the window open, driving you crazy with desire. What starts as a secret dirty act turns into a hardcore whoredom, with her calling you inside and involving you in a game of rough sex, provocations and some bullies that will make you go crazy."
Tags: Voyeur, Hot Neighbor, Brutal Blowjob, Hardcore Sex, Domination, Submission, Throat Fuck, Forced Orgasm, Spitting, Slapping, Humiliation, Sexual Blackmail, Open Window, Pervert, Plot Twist
W: 5.236
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The summer air on that quiet street was thick, and the open windows were an invitation—both to the breeze and to the secrets of others. You never planned to become a voyeur, but she made it impossible to resist. Karina, the Korean neighbor in the house next door, was an irresistible mystery: a woman in her early twenties, tall, with curves that looked sculpted and an air of confidence you only admired from afar. Her bedroom was just a few meters from your window, and the thin curtain she never closed was like a private movie screen.
It all started by accident on a sweltering July night. You saw her come home at 10 PM, her hair tied in a messy bun, her body exhausted from work—maybe as a model or dancer, you guessed, judging by the way she moved. She stepped into her room, turned on the lamp, and began her ritual: a long shower, steam escaping through the slightly open window, the sound of water falling like a whisper pulling you closer. When she returned, wrapped in a white towel that barely contained her curves, you swore you’d look away. But then the towel slipped, pooling at her feet, and her golden skin glowed under the soft light—round breasts, a narrow waist, toned thighs. Your pulse spiked, and you froze as she grabbed a jar of lotion and began massaging herself: her fingers gliding slowly up her thighs, rising to her breasts, squeezing them lightly as if she knew she was being watched, then tracing her neck with an almost erotic delicacy.
In the days that followed, it became an addiction. Each night brought something new: On Monday, she let her damp hair down and dropped the towel on purpose, staying naked longer as she stretched on the bed, her hands roaming her body as if testing her own allure. On Wednesday, she swapped the towel for a sheer black nightgown, the fabric clinging to her damp skin as she danced alone to muted R&B. On Friday, she opened the window wider, the heat making her sigh as she sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing oil into her legs, eyes closed and head tilted back in what felt like an unspoken invitation. You caught yourself holding your breath, the summer heat blending with the fire building inside you, your heart pounding so loud you feared she’d hear it.
Weeks passed like this, each night a chapter in a silent obsession. You noticed details: the small tattoo on her ribcage that only appeared when she turned, the way she bit her lip while checking herself in the mirror, the low laugh she let out when reading something on her phone. She never seemed to see you—until that night. The air was heavier than ever, and Karina, post-shower, let the towel drop as usual. Only this time, as she massaged her breasts with lotion, she paused. Her eyes locked onto yours through the window, sharp and penetrating, as if she’d known all along. Your stomach dropped, but before you could hide, she smiled—a slow, dangerous, almost predatory grin. She stood, still naked, and walked to the window, her body lit up like a promise. With a single gesture, a curl of her finger, she beckoned you. "Come here," she mouthed, soundlessly, and you knew there was no turning back.
On the way to her place, your legs trembled, sweat trickling down your neck. She opened the door wearing only that black nightgown, the fabric sticking to her still-damp skin. "Enjoy the show, little spy?" she asked, her voice husky and teasing, as she pulled you inside and locked the door. Her eyes devoured you, and she stepped closer, the scent of vanilla and warm skin enveloping you. Her fingers grazed your chest, trailing down to the waistband of your pants, and she laughed softly. "You watched me for days… now you owe me something in return." She pushed you against the wall, her body pressed to yours, her lips inches from yours, breathing heavily as her hands gripped you with a mix of punishment and desire.
The hallway’s dim light sharpened the shadows of Karina’s sharp collarbones, the elegant curve of her neck, the tantalizing valley between her breasts as they rose and fell under the sheer black camisole. Her scent—vanilla lotion mixed with the damp heat of her post-shower skin—wrapped around you like a drug. Her hands were already in command: one undid your belt with deft fingers, the other pinned your wrist above your head against the wall with a force that made you swallow hard.
“You stood there so long, watching my every move…” Her voice was a rough whisper, laced with sarcasm and desire. “Did you think I didn’t notice?” Her knee pressed against your groin, firm and deliberate, wrenching a moan you tried to stifle. She smiled—slow, dangerous—and closed the distance with a cruel kiss, her tongue exploring your mouth with a slowness that drove you wild, a thread of saliva connecting you when she pulled away.
“Let’s see if you can handle this,” she taunted, peeling off the camisole in one fluid motion. The fabric pooled at her feet, revealing pert breasts, hard nipples, the narrow waist and hips you’d fantasized about for weeks. Your hands reached for her, but she shoved them back against the wall. “Not yet,” she growled, biting your lower lip until it stung. “You owe me.”
She sank to her knees, her gaze daring you to look away. Her fingers dragged your zipper down slowly, freeing you, the cold air a stark contrast to the heat of her breath. “Hmm,” she hummed, eyes widening for a split second as she gripped you, feeling you harden under her touch. “Bigger than I imagined… and I did see you trying to hide it.” A low laugh vibrated against your skin as her lips closed around you, starting with a slow, deep suck that made your muscles tense.
Karina was in absolute control. One hand tightened around the base of your cock, guiding it as she took you in a hypnotic rhythm—now slow, her tongue swirling the tip, now fast, swallowing you to the back of her throat just to hear you choke. Her other hand slid between her own thighs, fingers moving rapidly as she touched herself, muffled moans buzzing against your skin.
“Rock fucking hard,” she said, pulling off just to smirk up at you, spit glistening on her chin. “Almost impressive.” She took you again, hungrier now, eyes half-lidded with pleasure as she fucked herself with her fingers, the wet sounds mixing with your groans. You grabbed for her hair, but she pinned your wrists to the wall, iron grip unyielding. “I’m* in charge here,”* she whispered before speeding up, her hot, slick mouth pushing you to the edge.
You felt your climax building—and so did she. Her movements turned frantic, fingers plunging deeper as she moaned around you. When you came, she swallowed every drop with a guttural sound of satisfaction, her body trembling as she came at the same time, hips jerking. A trickle of cum escaped the corner of her mouth; she wiped it with her finger, licking it away with a smug grin.
She rose slowly, her breasts brushing your chest as she stared you down, still breathless. “Good boy,” she purred, voice thick with sarcasm. Then, icy cold: “But I don’t need you anymore.”
Without warning, she shoved you toward the door, your clothes still tangled on the floor. “Out,” she ordered, yanking it open. Dazed and weak-kneed, you tried to protest, but she cut you off: “I got what I wanted. Don’t make me repeat myself.” She pushed you into the dark hallway, tossing your shirt after you, and slammed the door with a bang. The night’s silence swallowed you whole, her taste still on your lips, your body throbbing with a pleasure she’d given and taken with equal ease.
After that night—after Karina kicked you out with a frosty smile and a “don’t need you anymore”—something shifted. The curtains of her bedroom, once a portal to her nightly rituals, stayed shut. Night after night, you tried to peek, but all you saw was thick fabric barring any glimpse of her. The lamp still flicked on at 10 PM, the muffled sound of the shower still seeped through the cracked window, but Karina had locked you out of her world. As if she knew you were there, waiting… and this silence was your punishment.
The obsession grew like a fever. During the day, you’d see her leaving the house—tight jeans, a loose blouse, her hair tossed to the side as if nothing had happened—and she wouldn’t even glance your way, passing you on the street with a disdain that burned. At night, trapped in your room, you’d try to dull the craving with feverish jerking off, replaying the heat of her mouth, the way she’d dominated you, the sound of her moans as she touched herself. But it wasn’t enough. Every attempt only fed the hunger for more—more of her, of her control, of the pleasure she’d given you before ripping it away without mercy. You started losing sleep, eyes aching from staring at her closed window, wondering what she was doing inside.
Weeks bled together, frustration twisting into a knot in your chest. You needed her, needed to prove you could have her again, that you weren’t just some disposable toy. Then, on a sweltering August night, something shifted. After days of drawn curtains, you looked out and saw—hers were open, just a crack, enough to give you a sliver of her room. Your heart hammered as you crept closer, starving for even a glimpse.
There she was. Karina, on her knees—but not alone. An older man, maybe 40, salt-and-pepper hair, athletic build, stood over her, pants open, fists tangled in her hair as she sucked him with the same fierceness she’d once used on you. You’d seen his sleek black Mercedes parked outside earlier. Now here he was, groaning low as Karina worked him, lips slick, eyes lifted in devotion—a look that made your hands clench.
You watched, blood roaring in your ears. She took him slow, then fast, pausing to tease him with lazy licks, and the man threw his head back, lost in it. Like she was performing for you, knowing you were there, powerless behind the glass. Rage swallowed you—at her for shutting you out, at him for being where you craved to be, at yourself for still wanting her so badly. When he came with a grunt, her swallowing every drop before wiping her lips with a smirk, you nearly shattered the window with your fists. He straightened his clothes, patted her cheek like she’d done a good job, and left, the Mercedes purring into the night.
You snapped.
Down the stairs in a frenzy, across the street, pounding on her door hard enough to rattle the frame. Karina opened it slowly, still in that black camisole, hair messy, lips swollen from what she’d just done. She blinked at you—surprised for half a second—before that mocking smile curled her mouth. “What do you want, little peeper?” she asked, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed like you were an inconvenience. “I told you it was over.” Her voice was poison, but her eyes glittered with something you couldn’t name—challenge, maybe, or pleasure at seeing you so wrecked.
You opened your mouth, anger and lust tangling your words. “You think you can use me and toss me out like that? I saw you with him. I know what you are.” Your voice shook but carried weight. She laughed, low and sharp, stepping closer until her perfume hit you like a punch. “And what am I, huh? A slut who gave you the best head of your life and left you begging for more?” Her head tilted, studying you. “You’re obsessed. Pathetic.”
Karina’s sharp laugh still echoed in your ears, her words—"Pathetic"—burning like acid. The rage, mixed with weeks of pent-up desire, exploded. Suddenly, you grabbed her hair, the silky strands slipping between your fingers as you yanked hard, pulling her face close to yours. "I’ll show you who’s pathetic!" you growled, voice ragged with fury, eyes locked onto hers. Her eyes widened for a split second—surprised by your audacity—before she tried to wrench free, hands shoving against your chest. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?" she spat, voice dripping with disdain, but there was a tremor there, a crack in her armor.
You didn’t back down. Still gripping her hair with one hand, you slammed her against the hallway wall, the impact wrenching a grunt from her. With your other hand, you tore down your pants and boxers in one rough motion, freeing your already half-hard cock from its prison of frustration and obsession. Before she could react, you shoved her face downward, the vanilla scent of her skin mixing with the sweat of your anger. Instinctively, her mouth opened—maybe from shock, maybe from hidden desire—and you thrust your cock inside, straight down her throat. Karina gagged, eyes watering, but she didn’t pull away; instead, a wicked glint flashed through them, as if this were a game she already knew.
You started fucking her throat, violent and unhesitating, as if you could erase every taunt she’d ever thrown at you. The sounds were brutal—wet gags, choked breaths, the slap of your hips against her face. This was a twisted game, and you felt it: she wanted to be used like this, like a filthy whore, but was too proud to beg. Her hands clawed at your ass, fingers digging in as she tried to pull you deeper, to set the pace. But you resisted, tightening your grip on her hair, pinning her head to the wall. "You don’t get what you want, you bitch," you snarled through clenched teeth. "Not unless you ask for it."
Her frustration burned hotter—you saw it in her glassy eyes, the way her body writhed against the wall. You yanked your cock from her mouth suddenly, thick strands of saliva stringing from her chin onto her designer camisole. Pulling her head back by the hair, you spat in her face, the glob hitting her cheek and sliding down her neck. "You’re a fucking slut," you said, voice shaking with rage and lust. "All that talk, but what you really want is for me to choke you on my cock, isn’t it? Too scared to admit it. Say I’m right."
She took a shaky breath, lips trembling, face flushed with humiliation and need. Then, in a broken whisper: "Yes… you’re right. I’m a slut. Please—fuck my throat. I need it so bad. Please." It was a genuine plea, and for a second, you almost pitied her—all those hungry, hidden needs masked by her act of control. But pity didn’t last. You shoved your cock back into her mouth, thrusting deep, and gave her exactly what she’d begged for: a brutal face-fucking. She gagged, body jerking with each snap of your hips, spit and mucus dripping onto her thousand-dollar camisole, pooling on the polished hardwood. You didn’t stop, abusing her throat like punishment for every night she’d teased and denied you.
Karina tried to look up at you, but you spat in her face again, the fluid streaking down her lashes. "Don’t fucking look at me unless I say so," you ordered, and she obeyed, eyes downcast as you kept going. A minute later, heat coiled in your legs, cum boiling in your balls. You slowed slightly, just enough to growl, "Look at me now." Her tear-streaked, red-rimmed eyes lifted, your cock buried to the hilt. "I’m gonna come soon," you warned, voice rough. "And it’s a lot. Better be ready."
She didn’t have time to react. You pistoned into her again, hips slamming against her face. Twenty seconds later, you shoved in one last time, cum erupting straight down her esophagus. She convulsed, choking violently, body shaking as spit and semen spilled from her lips, splattering the floor. When you finally pulled your softening cock free, she gasped, chest heaving, a wet burble of cum and air escaping her lips. Karina collapsed to her knees, face a wreck—spit, tears, and cum smeared together, camisole ruined, eyes glazed with exhaustion and something else. Satisfaction, maybe.
You stared down at her, the hallway silent except for her ragged breaths. For the first time since you’d met her, she was wordless, her pride left in the puddle of filth on the floor.
Karina was still on her knees, face a mess, chest rising and falling as she tried to recover. But you weren’t done. The fury and lust she’d stoked in you for weeks still burned, and now that she was broken, you wanted more—to shatter her completely. You grabbed her hair again, yanking her upright, ignoring her weak whimper. "Get up," you commanded, and she staggered to her feet, eyes wet but with a flicker of anticipation beneath the shattered pride.
You landed a sharp smack on her ass, the sound echoing, then shoved her camisole up, revealing black lace panties clinging to her round cheeks. Dragging a finger along her slit, you felt the fabric soaked through, hot and slick. She let out a shaky breath, her body betraying her again as wetness dripped down her thighs. With one rough tug, you ripped the panties off, her half-hearted "Stop…" only making you laugh before you spanked her again—harder—leaving red handprints on her golden skin. "Time to shut that pretty mouth for good," you muttered, shoving the torn lace into her mouth like a gag.
Now she was fully exposed—smooth, hairless, glistening. You threw her onto her back, burying your face between her legs before she could protest. Your tongue circled her swollen clit slowly, her taste flooding your senses as she writhed. You pinned her hips down, relentless, the circles tightening until her thighs trembled. Then—without warning—you clamped your teeth around her clit and bit down. Just enough.
Karina shattered.
Her back arched off the floor, a raw, animal scream muffled by the gag as the orgasm ripped through her. "FUCK!" Her voice was wrecked, tears streaming, body thrashing like she wanted to escape the pleasure. You didn’t let up, licking through her climax until she collapsed, boneless and gasping.
You kept nipping, sucking, grinding, dragging out every spasm until she didn’t know whether she was moaning from pain or pleasure. Her face twisted, shame dripping down with the sweat, her body trembling—utterly conquered.
You lifted your face, lips glistening with her, and took in the scene:
Karina was wrecked.
Hair wild, face streaked with tears and spit, the camisole tangled around her waist, her ass still red from the spanking.
“Look at you,” you spat, voice thick with disdain. “All tough, but deep down… you just wanted to be used until you couldn’t take it anymore, huh?”
She tried to speak, but only a whimper escaped, her body still shaking.
You stood up, wiped your mouth with a cruel smirk, and slapped her ass just to hear her scream again. Then, with a sharp yank of her silky black hair, you hauled Karina off the floor, the strands slipping through your fingers as she stumbled—weak from the aftershocks. You dragged her to the bedroom and threw her face-down onto the mattress, the bed dipping under her weight, her ass still throbbing from the spanks, red against her golden skin.
Karina’s room was a messy reflection of the perfect persona she sold to the world. The huge bed, its white sheets twisted from being clawed at, dominated the space. The dim lamp cast shadows on the walls, while the sweet scent of her lotion fought with the thick musk of sex. The half-open window let in just a sliver of the night’s heat—and the muffled moans she couldn’t hold back.
She tried to push up on her elbows, her hair falling over her face like a tangled curtain, but you didn’t let her. A sharp smack to the back of her neck echoed through the room as you shoved her face into the sheets, the fabric stifling her broken moan. “You think we’re done?” you growled in her ear, breath hot against her oversensitive skin, your hand sliding down her back, fingers tracing the curve of her spine to her marked waist. “You haven’t even begun to pay yet.”
Karina moaned—a ragged, shattered sound—as you yanked the bunched-up camisole to her knees, ripping what was left of the expensive fabric with a satisfying tear. Now she was fully exposed: her ass flushed and hot to the touch, thighs trembling from exhaustion and need, her pussy swollen and glistening, still dripping from your earlier attention. You spat between her legs, the liquid sliding slowly down her slit, mixing with her wetness as she twitched—too sensitive to hide how much she still craved you. “Please—” she started, voice muffled against the mattress, but you were already positioned behind her, the head of your cock dragging against her, pressing just enough to make her breath hitch and her hips arch in reflex.
And then you took her.
One brutal thrust. No mercy. Sheathing yourself to the hilt in a single motion, the tight heat of her swallowing you whole as she screamed, her body bowing violently against the bed. Her fingers tore at the sheets, fabric ripping as she tried to anchor herself, the sound of her cries bouncing off the walls. She was hot, soaked, still shaking from her last climax—and you showed no pity. You fucked her hard, each slam wrenching out a raw moan, every impact making her ass jolt and the headboard slam against the wall in a frantic rhythm. “Take it, you slut,” you snarled, hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave bruises, pulling her back onto you with every thrust.
“Ah—fuck… it hurts!” she whimpered, her voice broken—but her body told a different story. The way she clenched around you, the wetness dripping down her thighs, her hips arching to meet every thrust. You chuckled, low and cruel, fisting a hand in her hair and yanking her head back until her neck formed a taut bow. “Bullshit. You love it,” you growled, teeth grazing her ear before biting down on the lobe, ripping another moan from her. “Every time you spread your legs, this is what you beg for, huh? To get fucked until you can’t take it?”
“Fuck you—” she spat, voice shaky but laced with defiance, even as her body betrayed every word. “Do it harder then, asshole, if you’re so fucking tough!” You grinned, her fire only stoking yours, and picked up the pace—thrusts turning brutal, the slap of skin on skin mixing with her cries until the room drowned in it. “Filthy slut,” you shot back, landing a sharp smack on her ass that made her shriek. “Talk all that shit, but look at you—begging for my cock to wreck you.”
Karina moaned, the sound pitching higher, sharper, and you felt her tighten around you, body trembling as she teetered on the edge. “Yeah—fuck, tear me apart!” she screamed, the filthy words fracturing into gasps, her pride unraveling with every drive of your hips. “Make me forget my fucking name!” You knew she was close—the way her legs started to shake, her clit throbbing against you, slick soaking the sheets. But this time, you wouldn’t make it easy.
You stopped dead, pulling out in one rough motion—the emptiness wrenching a frustrated scream from Karina. She writhed on the bed, desperate, thighs trembling as she ground against the sheets for relief. “No—no, goddamn it, PUT IT BACK!” she roared, voice ragged with need, wet eyes glaring up at you in a mix of fury and plea. You watched her clit pulse, red and swollen, her orgasm trapped seconds from exploding—and smirked, leaning down to hiss in her ear: “Beg.”
The amber lamp light gilded her back in gold, highlighting the fingerprints on her hips, the reddened swell of her ass, the tremble of her spine.
“Please—fuck me—I NEED to come, you bastard!”
Her voice cracked—a cornered animal’s snarl. You smiled. It was beautiful.
The untouchable Noona was just this now: black hair stuck to her face, eyes glazed with tears and lust, mouth open in a ceaseless moan.
“You wanna come?” you taunted, hand closing around her throat as your cock teased her entrance. “Then come how I fucking want you to, whore.”
And then—
You slammed into her to the hilt, balls-deep, her scream hitting the walls like a gunshot.
Karina arched, fingers shredding the sheets, body trying to flee the pleasure it couldn’t control.
No mercy. Every thrust was punishment. Every impact rocked the bed. Every tug of her hair ripped out a dirtier moan.
“Yes—YES—FUCK, RIGHT THERE—!”
She screamed, begged, her words fracturing between the thrusts that pinned her into the pillows. You laughed—low and cruel—your hand smacking her ass just to watch the flesh jolt and hear her shriek louder.
“Look at you,” you spat, sweat slicking your chest. “All tough… now just a sobbing mess, begging for cock.”
She tried to reply, but you sped up—
Harder. Deeper. Until she trembled like a leaf in a hurricane.
“I— I’M GONNA—!”
You knew. Felt her clench, her sex pulsing, legs locking in spasms.
Then it hit. The orgasm tore through her like a riptide, wrenched out before she could resist. Karina screamed—a guttural, animal sound shredding her throat—her entire body convulsing as she squirted, hot liquid gushing down her thighs and soaking the mattress.
You felt her grip you so tight it nearly dragged you under, inner muscles fluttering in wild spasms, her legs giving out as she collapsed face-first into the sheets. “God, god, I can’t—!” she sobbed, tears streaking her face, body shaking as if electrocuted, her clit so sensitive every movement now blurred pleasure and pain.
But you didn’t stop. “You come when I say. And I’m not done with you,” you growled, yanking her hips back and pounding into her with the same brutality, ignoring her cries dissolving into whimpers. Her body was a spectacle of surrender—ass bouncing with every thrust, breasts crushed against the mattress, fingers clawing the sheets like they could escape. “Pathetic slut. Look how you gush for me,” you snarled, heat coiling in your gut as she unraveled. She tried to speak, but only incoherent moans spilled out, her brain short-circuited by forced pleasure.
You felt your climax building and, with one final deep thrust, emptied into her, cum filling her as she shuddered, still trapped in the aftershocks. “Take it all, you filthy thing,” you hissed, locking her hips in place until you were spent, liquid dripping down her thighs when you finally pulled out.
Karina lay wrecked—body limp, breath ragged, the sheets soaked beneath her. She couldn’t even lift her head, just whimpered weakly, face streaked with tears, saliva, and humiliation, hair plastered to her sweat-slicked skin.
The room fell silent save for the heavy sound of your breathing. You and Karina lay tangled in the damp, wrecked bed, the satin sheets now a soggy tangle of sweat, spit, and fluids. The lamp cast weak amber light over her body: black hair stuck to her forehead, thighs still twitching, ass marked by spanks and scratches. You lounged beside her, chest rising and falling as the heat of brutal sex slowly faded, the night air drifting through the cracked window, thick with the musk of sex.
Karina looked broken—eyes half-lidded, body slack against the mattress, soft moans escaping like echoes of the orgasm you’d wrung from her.
For minutes, you stayed there, resting in the wreckage, the silence almost comforting after the chaos.
Until a sound cut through the air—a deep voice echoing from the living room.
She froze, eyes widening in pure panic. Before you could react, she sat up fast, her body still trembling, and shoved you hard.
"Get out. Now!" she whispered, her voice hoarse and urgent, pointing to the window. "Go out the window—quick, he can’t see you!"
Dazed, you grabbed your clothes tangled on the floor, heart hammering as she practically threw you out. You scrambled over the sill, bare feet hitting the damp grass outside, and ducked behind a bush, peering through the cracked window—your voyeuristic instincts flaring back to life.
Karina barely had time to yank a short robe over her naked body when the bedroom door swung open. It was him: the older man you’d seen earlier, the silver-haired Mercedes driver, the one she’d sucked off hours ago. Only now, she called him "Dad."
"Forgot my wallet," he said, voice steady as he stepped in, dark eyes scanning the room. He stopped, face hardening at the scene—Karina naked under the loosely tied robe, the bed wrecked, sheets stained, the unmistakable scent of sex hanging thick in the air.
"What the hell is this?" he demanded, voice dripping with a rage that made her shoulders hunch.
"Dad, I… it’s not what it looks like. I was just—just having fun after what I did with you," she stammered, tugging the robe tighter, face flushed with shame and fear. But the lie was weak, and he knew it.
The man stepped closer, eyes blazing, and before she could retreat, he slid a hand between her legs with a roughness that made her gasp. His fingers came away glistening, slick with the cum still dripping from her—your cum.
"Who was here?" he snarled, gripping her wrist with his free hand, eyes locked on hers. "Who fucked my little girl, Karina? Tell me. Now."
She shook, lips parted, fear plastered across her face as she struggled for words. "I… I didn’t—"
Outside, hidden in the dark, you felt your pulse in your throat, adrenaline laced with a perverse thrill at seeing her cornered. The man looked ready to explode, his soiled hand raised as if to strike, when his pocket buzzed—a shrill ringtone slicing through the tension. He cursed low, releasing her to answer, his expression stone-cold as he listened.
"Fine. On my way," he barked into the phone, eyes never leaving hers.
He stuffed the phone back, jabbing a trembling finger at her. "This isn’t over, Karina. When I get back, you’ll tell me who did this—and he’s fucked."
Without another word, he snatched the black leather wallet off the dresser, turned on his heel, and left, heavy footsteps fading until the front door slammed. Karina stood motionless, arms wrapped around herself, hands covering her face as she breathed fast, the robe slipping to reveal the marks you’d left. Outside, you crouched in the shadows, cold sweat trickling down your neck, mind reeling at the twist—her, the dominatrix now a daughter caught red-handed, and you, the dirty secret she couldn’t name.
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rafeschicana · 1 year ago
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𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。 ˚ feedings w daddy 𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆。 ˚
dad!rafe x mom!reader
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“babe what the fuck do you have our daughter eating?” rafe held up the glass container of baby food. “banana, blueberries & green beans?” he sneered “shit sounds horrendous.” ari couldn't care less what she was eating as long as her belly was full she was pleased. “she likes it don't judge my baby” you laughed from the counter where you cut up fruits. the past month you've introduced puree into ari’s feeding schedule so far everything was a hit. your baby was not picky.
“i ain't judging her just don't get babies' taste buds it’s weird” rafe opened the jar, watching as ari’s eyes grew wide at the sight of her food. “yeah you hungry girl?” rafe chuckles as ari smacked her hands down onto her highchair. “forgot the spoon again?” you passed rafe a baby spoon with a playful shake of your head. “wouldn't of happened if you didn't distract me” he pointed at you.
just fifteen minutes ago you were minding your business in the kitchen preparing lunch. rafe coming behind you wrapping his arms around you and groping your breasts. which prompted a very heated make-out session. before a whine was heard down the hall. ari woke up from her nap with a dirty diaper and a starving tummy. “yeah yeah whatever” ari let out a sequel and more loud smacks to her highchair clearly done with all this talking her mommy and daddy were doing.
“right, okay here my love” rafe scoops out a spoonful of puree. “psshh here it comes ari” you coo. “this is a new one lets see how she likes it” rafe cleans the side of her mouth with the spoon. ari’s little face turned sour for a minute. “nah I don't think she likes it baby” you immediately shook your head “no no just wait” you clutched onto his arm resting your head against him. ari was silent for a minute trying out the new spurt of flavors.
“mhm is it yummy bebe?” you laughed when she reached for more. clasping onto the spoon rafe had in his hand with a tight grasp. “shit she's strong” he shook his head. “princess you gotta let me have it if you want more.” ari’s baby brows furrowed as she let out a loud wail. “baby can I get some help?” he looked towards you with a small smile. “that’s all you daddy” you kissed him on the lips before walking away.
“be nice to your daddy ari” you spoke as you rounded the corner. it was at that moment Ari released the spoon from her grip with a giggle. “love my girls so much” rafe spoke gently before continuing feeding his baby.
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