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niningtori · 3 months

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cruel intentions | part one

part two out now!

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you live your life (un)comfortably in the shadow of your bright and beautiful best friend, chaeyoung. when campus heartthrob, beomgyu, takes an interest in you, you can't help but feel like it's just a way for him to get closer to your beloved best friend. in reality, his intentions are far crueler than that. or, beomgyu agrees to get with the campus' resident dark cloud in order to win a bet with his friend.

genre: romance, angst, campus life, clichés and melodrama (as per uje)

warnings: brief mentions of reader's abusive household, reader has almost comically low self esteem

word count: 7.8k

notes: hi... r u mad at me? i know i've been gone for a month or so and definitely have other projects i've promised to work on, but i've had a lot of personal stuff going on and couldn't focus on anything. i love this trope so much tho and couldn't stop myself from wanting to try my hand at it. i'm not expecting much from this seeing as how it's devoid of any suggestive content, but i figured it'd be better to post it so you all know i'm alive. if people want a part two, i will gladly make one since i really like this trope, but i do want to know if that's the case before i write anything. anyway, i think that's it. enjoy, my lovely friends :^)

you’re okay. you really, really are. you wouldn’t say you’re happy, per se, but things are alright as they are. there are worse things than living in the shadow of your bright and beautiful best friend, whom you love very, very much. chaeyoung is nothing if not dazzling, so much so that everyone falls flatly at her feet in the wake of one of her smiles. you are, as a matter of fact, no exception. chaeyoung has been like a savior from your unstable home life ever since middle school. she has stood up for you when you were too afraid to stand up for yourself and has become more like your family than your family ever was. even so, are you envious of the way that everything seems to go her way? you’d be lying if you said it doesn’t bother you at times, but it becomes more and more bearable every day. besides, you can’t blame her for it; she has no idea that you’re considered as little more than her sidekick and, for lack of a better term, a mob character in the colorful campus life you’ve grown to accept as not your cup of tea.

being chaeyoung’s best friend comes with “perks” such as invites to what would otherwise be completely exclusive parties you wouldn't even dream of being considered for, but you can’t count how many times you’ve been approached with the intent of getting closer to her, so you refrain from any such affairs and opt to focus on your studies and fulltime job. in the beginning, your feelings would be hurt when men you were interested in feigned mutual attraction in hopes that they’d get closer to chaeyoung, but you’ve come to accept things as they are and you’re now known for your flatout rejection of anyone who attempts to woo you.

these past few years, what with your heavy coursework, demanding job, and feelings of inferiority, have been grueling, to be sure, but you’re finally in your last semester and closing act of this entire charade you’ve come to call your college career. in a few months, you'll be a free woman and you’ll be able to begin your life as a fully fledged adult. chaeyoung will remain as your best friend, you know, but you won’t have to be compared to her every second since you two are set on very, very different career paths. life, as it is, feels so small and unvaried to the point of suffocation, but all of that will be over once you’ve entered the post-college workforce. or, at least, you hope it will.

heeseung is lovesick, to put things in the simplest of terms.

“i just don’t see why chaeyoung won’t give me a chance! i really, really like her,” he whines.

“i know,” beomgyu says with a roll of his eyes.

“so why can’t you help me out?” he pouts.

“what the hell am i supposed to do about it?” beomgyu asks with a hint of irritation.

“gyu, you sit next to her and her friend in class! put in a good word for me!” he pleads.

“she’s always talking to that girl, so it’s hard to even say two words to her. you know that.”

heeseung is, again, pouting, but the machinations in his head are firing in overtime as he searches for a solution. suddenly, his face alights as if he’s found the perfect plot. beomgyu’s wariness increases tenfold as he waits to hear whatever fucked up plan heeseung has put together.

“i know! what if you distract her friend so i can actually talk to her? and you can find out what type of guy chaeyoung likes.” he looks so earnest in this moment, but beomgyu cringes at the idea.

“dude, no. that’s fucked up,” he says.

“c’mon, i know you can do it!”

“well, yeah,” beomgyu nods in agreement, “but i’m not pretending to be interested in somebody just so you can fuck her friend. that’s wrong.”

“oh, please, gyu. we all know you’ve done worse.” he’s right. still, beomgyu vehemently disagrees. heeseung, in his desperation, can only think of one way to force him to give in: attack his pride.

“what, are you scared she won’t fall for it?” heeseung teases. “well, i can’t blame you. i heard people calling her the ‘iron maiden’ and that she won’t let anybody near her. why would she fall for you of all people?” beomgyu scoffs at his insolence.

“i could get her if i really wanted to,” he replies. “i just don’t feel like it.”

“sure, whatever. i know you’re just scared she’ll reject the ‘great beomgyu’ and you won’t be able to keep saying you’re the hottest guy on campus.” beomgyu actually rolls his eyes at this.

“i bet you i could get her to fall in love with me by the end of the semester if i really wanted her to,” beomgyu argues petulantly.

“prove it,” heeseung challenges with a raise of his eyebrows. now he’s got him.

“not for free,” beomgyu says with a smirk.

“... fine. what do you want?”

“i want you to pay my half of the rent for the rest of the school year.” heeseung whines in response, but he quickly makes the calculations in his head and decides it’s worth it when he takes into consideration how fucking hot chaeyoung is.

“deal.”

and so it begins.

beomgyu, like most people, hasn’t really paid much attention to you before now. he barely even has an idea of what you look like, to be perfectly honest, but he can immediately figure out who you are just by looking to chaeyoung’s side as she's walking through the classroom door and seeing who’s sticking there. he takes in your features as if he’s seeing you for the first time, and he kind of is, frankly speaking. you’re not nearly as pretty as chaeyoung, and you definitely lack the aura she has, but you’re not bad by any means. your clothes are ill-fitting and your entire demeanor is soaked with an air of exhaustion, but if he looks carefully, it’s not like you’re an eyesore or anything. still, he’s considerably better looking than you are. this should be easy.

“hey,” he says softly in his baritone voice when you slide into your usual seat next to his, chaeyoung sliding in on the other side of you. to his surprise, you say nothing in response.

“hey,” he tries again, a little louder, thinking you just didn’t hear him or something.

“oh. hey,” you say confusedly before turning back to look at chaeyoung and continuing your conversation with her. well, that’s not nothing, he guesses, but heeseung sends him a knowing, goading glance from his seat and beomgyu feels himself growing irritated.

when the professor enters, you turn to face her with a focused face and immediately pull out your pen to begin copying whatever she says down with solemnity.

beomgyu is staring so intently, he’s surprised you don’t feel his eyes boring into the side of your face, but you don’t seem to notice a thing. before long, your professor announces that there will be a final project that will require a partner. chaeyoung excitedly grabs your arm with a grin, to which you answer her with a soft smile of your own.

unluckily for the two of you, your giddiness is short-lived when she pairs chaeyoung with the person sitting on the other side of her, and you are stuck with the boy who randomly greeted you earlier.

“i’m glad we’re partners,” beomgyu says with a smile as soon as the professor is finished relaying the details of the project with the class.

“why?” you blink in confusion.

“‘cause you’re really smart, right? and cute, too,” he chuckles.

“oh, i guess,” you say flatly after a short pause. “when do you want to work on the project?” there is no wavering in your voice when you speak to him, and you look directly in his eyes, which is a far cry from the sweet, trembling voices and shy glances he’s used to. do you not find him attractive or something? no, that can’t be it. he’s everybody’s type.

“i’m free tomorrow after 5. do you want to come to my place?” you tense up, but he keeps pushing. “you know, so there are no distractions?” you’re wary, of course, but you see no hint of sinister ulterior motives. besides, he can’t possibly see you in an impure way, so you agree with a low hum.

“great. i’ll see you then.”

you arrive at his doorstep with your usual exhausted, haphazard look. some part of him thought you might try to doll yourself up to some extent, seeing as how you’re coming to the apartment of the hottest guy on campus and all, but he can sniff out no such effort. your hair is carelessly thrown up and your face is devoid of anything but the barest amount of makeup. your eyes are tired and there’s a permanent crease in your brows. still, he figures that complimenting you is worth a shot.

“hey, you look pretty today,” he says warmly. you do nothing but stare with a withering glance, but the grin never leaves his face.

“hi. where did you want to start?” you ask while following him to his living room and setting your bag on his couch. if he feels slighted by you ignoring his compliment, he doesn’t show it.

“i thought we could review the rubric first and go from there,” he shrugs.

“okay.”

he makes several attempts at small talk, but they go nowhere. you are laser focused on the project and don’t even hesitate to reject any and all advances from him to the point where he’s beginning to grow frustrated. maybe you aren’t called the iron maiden for nothing, but the prospect of having his rent paid for the rest of the year is enough to keep him from giving up. he decides he’ll try a different approach.

“do you want some coffee? you look tired,” he says gently. you’re actually surprised at his observation, and he can tell.

“yes, actually. thank you.”

when he finishes making your coffee, he hands you a mug and you thank him while sporting a shy, grateful smile. momentarily, he’s stunned. he’s never cared enough to look for your smiles, and even if he had, he’d never see them unless you were with chaeyoung, but he realizes you look infinitely prettier while wearing one.

“of course. if you don’t mind me asking, is there something wrong? you look really tired lately.”

“i-i’m just working overtime these days. th-thank you for noticing,” you sputter nervously. seriously? his feigned consideration of your personal circumstances is what makes you flustered? well, whatever. he can work with this.

“work is important, but your health is more important. don’t spread yourself too thin.” if your cheeks felt hot before, they’re scorching to the touch now.

“i… i’ll keep that in mind. thanks.”

he doesn't probe much more deeply than that for fear of scaring you away, but you seem to have opened up just a bit in light of his thoughtful words. when you two decide to wrap up for the night, he walks you to his doorway.

“thank you for tonight,” you mumble with another one of your rare smiles.

“you’re welcome,” he replies with a grin.

you’re about to walk through his doorway when you turn back suddenly. before he can ask about it, your next words come tumbling out.

“chaeyoung likes confident men, but not to the point where they’re obnoxious. she hates movie dates because she wants to talk too much during them, but she likes stargazing, preferably with a picnic, too. she won’t text first, but she’ll respond quickly if she likes you back.” he’s stunned into silence and tries to stutter out something to the effect of “i wasn't trying to get you to tell me about her”, but all you do is give a knowing stare and he realizes he’s been caught. you leave his apartment and he’s left reeling. so much for being discreet.

the next time he sees you, he knows he has to apologize, but it isn’t until you meet again for the project that he decides the timing is finally right.

you’re sitting on his couch, scrolling through your laptop as you proofread what you two have written so far when he musters up the courage to say something.

“listen,” he begins cautiously. you lazily look up at him and he tries to swallow the lump in his throat.

“i… i think i owe you an apology and an explanation. i’m sorry for making you feel like i was just being nice to you so you could tell me about chaeyoung, but i really have no interest in her, i swear.” well, he’s half lying and half telling the truth, but he means it when he says he couldn’t give less of a shit about her. he can’t say he wasn’t just being nice to you in order to get his rent paid, though.

you look confused for a moment, as if you don’t even know what he’s referencing, but realization dawns on your face as you finally remember what he’s talking about.

“oh, it’s okay. it doesn’t bother me, anyway,” you reply with a shrug.

“i’m serious,” he says firmly. “i really have no interest in her. to be honest, i’m interested in someone else at the moment.”

“oh,” you respond flatly, and you turn back to your laptop as if you’re bored and couldn’t care less about the most popular guy on campus actually having feelings for someone, for once. he snaps your laptop shut and you look up at him in surprise.

“i mean it. the person i actually want to get to know more about is you.”

your jaw drops in pure shock.

“m-me? why?” you say, as if you can’t possibly believe that anyone could take a genuine interest in you. for some reason, he feels a pang in his heart at your sheer incredulity. sure, you’re no chaeyoung, but it's not like someone liking you is so rare of an affair as to throw you off kilter like this, right?

“what’s wrong with me wanting to get to know a pretty girl like you?” you scoff and roll your eyes. you know you’re no trophy by any stretch of the imagination, so you have a hard time believing he means a single word.

“yeah, right,” you snort derisively. “the cutest guy on campus has a crush on me. you can’t honestly think i’d fall for that, can you? if you’re trying to flatter me to get me to do this entire project by myself, keep dreaming.” he’s surprised at your insistence. well, you’re not entirely incorrect. his intentions are impure if nothing else, but for some reason, he’s determined to prove you wrong.

“oh, so you think i’m the cutest guy on campus?” he teases with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows. as if you didn’t realize you said those words yourself, you look more flustered than you’d care to admit.

“w-well, i —”

“i’ll take it. and no, i’m not trying to get you to carry our grade on this. i genuinely just want to get to know you better.” and he doesn't know how much of that sentiment he really means, but he does know it means more than it should.

after a few more meetups, you’re pretty much convinced that beomgyu truly has no interest in chaeyoung. he never asks about her, and even when you offhandedly comment on her, he never pushes to know more. he just hums in recognition or perfunctorily answers. as for believing that he sincerely has interest in you? you’re not sure you believe that, but when the project is finished within a week and he asks you out on a date, you can’t help but seriously consider this previously inconceivable thought.

“what did you say?!” chaeyoung asks excitedly once you relay that beomgyu, of all people, has asked you to go to dinner with him.

“i said i’d think about it,” you sigh.

“you should go! text him right now and tell him you’re going!”

“i don’t know, chae. you’ve heard the rumors about him. he’s a player…”

“who cares about the past?! i haven’t heard anything like that in a while. plus, it’s worth taking a chance, right? you haven’t been on a date in god knows how long. if you don’t text him, i will!” she exclaims. “gimme your phone, i’ll do it right the fuck now!”

“no!” you counter, clutching your phone to your chest protectively. “i… i’ll do it myself,” you mutter.

“that’s my girl,” she says with a sweet grin.

“i feel stupid,” you mumble as chaeyoung applies the finishing touches to your hair.

“well, you don’t look stupid, i’ll tell you that much. you’re absolutely gorgeous,” she boasts.

“as if,” you mutter, but you know she truly believes it. chaeyoung has always argued that you’re beautiful, even though you know that the rest of the world, including you, doesn’t think so.

“i’m being serious!” she says with a playful smack to your shoulder. “you look hot! i bet he’s gonna drool when he sees you.”

“alright, you’re going too far,” you say with a shy smile.

“go! you’re going to be late,” she chastises. you check the time and realize she’s right. you hurriedly grab your things and scramble out the door.

beomgyu offered to pick you up, but you vehemently denied this on account of the restaurant being a 5 minute walk from your apartment. you need the walk to calm your nerves, anyway.

when you enter the restaurant, all bright-eyed and beautiful, beomgyu looks up from his phone in sheer shock. he knew you were actually pretty cute under the exhausted veneer you have permanently placed over you, but he never knew just how stunning you are when you don’t look like life has run you over. you’re actually wearing form-fitting clothes for once, too, and he likes what he sees.

when you lock eyes with him, you actually smile, which you have been doing a lot more lately, and he can’t help but return it with a smile of his own. it’s a little more eager and sincere than he realizes.

“you look gorgeous,” he remarks when you sit down in front of him.

“you’re exaggerating…” you mumble embarrassedly.

“i’m not. you’re stunning.” and he means it.

“th-thank you,” you say, and the air is thick with tension before you clear your throat and ask him if he's already ordered drinks.

the date goes surprisingly smoothly, all filled with laughter and banter. he already knew you were smart, but he realizes how funny you actually are when you’re not so tense. you match his mischievousness with your own and it feels so much like a real date that he forgets why he’s doing this in the first place.

he’s surprised to hear that you’re actually quite interested in music. you share a mutual interest in a lot of bands and you even offer up some recommendations of your own, which he earnestly writes down in his notes app. when he mentions that he actually plays the guitar, your eyes light up in interest.

“will you play for me, someday?” you ask excitedly.

“of course,” he smiles softly. a lot of girls have asked him to play for them, and he has always happily obliged in order to get in their pants, but this time feels… different somehow. like he really just wants to show you how much he loves music and creating his own.

as you leave the restaurant, he grabs your hand and laces it with his. to both of your surprise, you don’t pull away and even let him gently swing your hand back and forth. you actually look like a real couple. you feel like one, too.

dates with beomgyu become a happy, regular occurrence. you’re not necessarily together as of now, but it’s been about a month and you’re genuinely considering something serious with him. he seems to eagerly reciprocate this sentiment if his constant invitations are of any indication.

he suggests walking to the nearest park to sightsee, and you agree before you can even fully consider it. as you walk through the trail and take a seat on a bench in front of the pretty, sparkling pond, he locks eyes with you. you look so beautiful like this, eyes devoid of their usual exhaustion and wariness, replaced by a sense of peace. he can’t help but try his luck and lean down to, hopefully, join your lips with his for the first time. usually, he’d have tried this a lot sooner, but for reasons unknown to him, he’s treated you with a lot more care and reverence than he’s ever treated anyone before. a sudden ringing interrupts the moment, though. you casually take out your phone and all the aforementioned contentment in your eyes flushes out as you see the contact information.

“h-hello?” you say unsteadily as you unlace your hand with his and walk away.

he can’t quite hear what you’re saying from the distance you’re at, but he can see how wound up you are. he tries to be considerate and tune out your conversation, but when he hears you yelling and the person on the other end of the line yelling back, he can’t help but be engrossed. you’re borderline screaming now about something related to money. something about a sibling of yours, maybe. something about how you’re tired of being taken advantage of and how the other person is being unfair. you’re angry, he can tell. indignant, even, but all of that leaves your demeanor when you deflate with insincere apologies and a sense of relenting out of sheer defeat. after the explosive call ends, you walk back to him with the same exhaustion permeating through your bones that he’s become so familiar with. even though you’re dressed and primped so beautifully, nothing can cover the tiredness of your entire person.

“i’m sorry you had to hear that,” you say in a monotone voice.

“o-oh. it’s alright. is… is everything okay?” he tries tentatively.

“yeah,” you say with the most forced smile he’s ever seen.

“do you… do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

you sigh. normally, you would not. normally, you’d brush it off and just call chaeyoung to blow off some steam, but for some reason, you’re so frustrated that you can’t help but want to tell somebody other than chaeyoung because you know you rely too much on her for comfort. as for that somebody being beomgyu, you, for some reason, somewhat trust that he won’t go around telling everyone about your family troubles. you also vaguely feel that he won’t judge you, either.

for his part, beomgyu genuinely seems concerned. he seems like he wants to listen. he’s shown you, in the past month that you’ve known him, that he really does notice when you’re tired and cares enough to ask about you. he tries to cheer you up with coffee and snacks even though you have refused to divulge any of the details of your personal life thus far. what’s the harm in trying to trust him? you feel like you can tell him about this, so you do. and once you do, it’s like you can’t stop.

you tell him all the dirty details of your home life and just how fucked up it is. you tell him about how you’re forced to work a full time job on top of being a full time student to help with your family back at home. it’s not that you mind helping out, but they show you no consideration or care and you’re always left feeling like you’re just there to be their workhorse no matter how many times you tell them that you’re tired. the only time they ever contact you is to try to wring every last penny out of you. your sibling, of course, is the exception, and is the only reason why you keep doing it aside from your unfettered guilt that you were practically born feeling. your need for validation has not sprung from nothing, and it seems like your money is the only way to get it from the people you reluctantly call your family. you don’t delve into details about the abuse you’ve endured, either, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. still, you can't help but love them. you just wish they loved you, too.

when you’re finished speaking, you don’t even realize that you’re crying until beomgyu gingerly wipes your tears away. oh no, you think. you’ve said too much. he’s going to be scared off just like every other guy you’ve told about your emotional baggage. who would want somebody whose life is in shambles? your self esteem is low, your financial circumstances are almost as equally dire, and you have no redeeming qualities you can think of. what have you done?

you hurriedly apologize for your outburst and wipe your tears away in a frenzy.

“s-sorry. just ignore me,” you say with a shaky breath and he can see you folding into yourself.

“why would i ignore you?” he asks, cupping your face. “you haven't done anything wrong. i’m so sorry that you’re being treated this way, and i’m even more sorry that you feel the way you do. you don’t deserve this, you know?”

your eyes snap up to his at his words. does he really mean them? his eyebrows are knitted in concern and he seems like he really does care.

“it’s… it’s okay. i’m fine. i should be used to it by now, but i’m just so, so tired all of the time. i feel like everybody on this planet just wants to use me,” you sob. “everybody besides chaeyoung a-and now, maybe, you,” you admit, grabbing one of the hands that holds your cheek. he feels like he’s been electrocuted as your words resonate in his heart. he is using you. he is planning on throwing you away at his earliest convenience once he’s done with you.

but he’s increasingly unsure if he wants to do that, anymore. with every day that you spend together, he finds himself wanting to soak up every part of you. he wants to know everything about you. your likes and dislikes, what makes you tick and what makes you smile, and, now, what makes you feel so sad all of the time. he wants to be the one who takes away all of your exhaustion. he wants to be the shoulder you can cry on. he realizes that he never wants to see you sad ever again, and, more than that, he realizes that he’s felt this way for a while. when he began to genuinely care about you, he doesn’t know for sure, but it may have been the moment you told him how to win chaeyoung over as if you never expected anyone to be kind to you for good reasons. he realizes that he’s wanted to prove you wrong and that you’re worth giving a fuck about ever since then.

“sorry if that’s too much,” you say in lieu of his pensive silence, pulling away from his touch, but he pulls you into a tight hug before you can fully separate yourself from him.

“don’t be sorry. i want to hear about these things, if it makes you feel better. i want my girlfriend to trust me,” he says softly.

“your girlfriend?” you ask incredulously.

“well, yeah? i mean, if you want to be, of course,” he says sheepishly.

“of course i do!” you say excitedly. you throw your arms around his neck and pull him into a sweet kiss. your lips are soft and so, so warm. warmer than anything he’s ever felt before.

it’s a mere month before graduation, and you and beomgyu have been together for a few months now. every day is blissful. he convinces you to relax, and his mere presence is enough to soothe your nerves. the exhaustion that previously hung around you like a curse is pretty much gone and a spark of life has finally entered your countenance. he feels proud when he thinks that he helped put it there.

every time you’re overwhelmed at work, he seems to notice before you do, and he always stops by with a meal because he already knows you forget to eat when you’re stressed. by the same token, you reciprocate this sentiment by showing up to his apartment and helping him through some of his harder coursework with no complaint, even though your workload is considerably heavier. he resists, at first, but you insist on helping as much as you can and you tell him it makes you happy just to help him a fraction of how he’s helped you.

you don’t realize that you’ve helped him just as much. you’ve made him into a better person, unconsciously or not. you’re so considerate of his feelings and always make him feel important no matter how busy you are. he’s never felt this way about anyone or anything before, but he’s so grateful you’ve shown him how much love has to offer. love. he never expected to find it in such an unconventional way, but he knows it when he feels it.

heeseung, for his part, is pretty satisfied. after months of chasing, chaeyoung has finally agreed to go on a date with him. he has promised her a picnic and a night of stargazing, which she happily agreed to. when she tells you about her upcoming date with heeseung, you’re a little surprised. what are the chances that beomgyu’s friend knew what you had suggested to beomgyu when you thought he was interested in chaeyoung? but they’re friends. best friends, even. it’s not shocking to think that if heeseung expressed interest in dating chaeyoung, that beomgyu would share what he knows. you snuff the light of suspicion out with a vengeance. hasn’t beomgyu shown you how much he really cares about you? how could you doubt him like that? you’re a bad girlfriend for even entertaining that thought.

it’s another dreary day in the library for beomgyu. he just wishes you weren’t working so you could hang at his apartment and make out, but he knows you’re swamped with work these days, so it’s all just a fantasy. that doesn’t keep him from indulging in it, though. when heeseung pulls up a chair next to him, he audibly groans.

“what’s with the attitude?” heeseung playfully chastises. beomgyu doesn’t need to rely on his almost preternatural intuition to know that heeseung is over the moon right now.

“oh, i know. you’re thinking about your little girlfriend, aren’t you?” he teases.

“so what if i am?” beomgyu snaps, a little too defensively.

“hey, man, i’m just kidding. you’ve done a great job on bagging her for me. my date with chaeyoung went great, by the way. thanks for asking.” beomgyu just rolls his eyes at heeseung’s obnoxiousness, which, if he recalls correctly, was one of chaeyoung’s turn-offs.

“i’m glad it went well,” beomgyu says sarcastically, devoid of any sincerity.

“for paying your half of the rent for months, it better have! it was worth it, though. so, so worth it.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” a sudden voice cuts in from out of the blue. chaeyoung. oh no.

“n-nothing,” heeseung says hastily, looking like a deer in headlights. beomgyu can only stare with widened eyes — too shocked to do anything else.

“bullshit. you said you paid his rent because he ‘bagged her’ for you. were you talking about who i think you’re talking about?” heeseung rushes to deny it, but she turns her hardened gaze to beomgyu.

“were you fucking talking about who i think you’re talking about?” chaeyoung repeats through gritted teeth. beomgyu feels his heart sinking to his stomach. his whole world has come crashing down around him and he feels like he could just die from the shame. he wishes he could deny it, but her eyes are teeming with a sense of knowing.

“y-yes,” he says softly while breaking eye contact with her and looking at his hands, which he didn’t even know he was wringing. a sudden burst of pain on his cheek tears his gaze away from them, though, as chaeyoung slaps him square across the face.

“you’re a piece of shit, you know that? she trusted you, and you know how hard it is for her to do that. you’re fucking filthy,” she says in rage and disgust. the librarian has now come to investigate the disturbance, but chaeyoung quickly says she’s already on her way out. before she goes, though, she sends one last damning look at beomgyu and leaves her parting words.

“just you fucking wait until i tell her about this, you son of a bitch.”

beomgyu is anxious beyond words. he doesn’t know if he should call you, text you, or show up to your apartment groveling on his knees. he doesn’t have the time to do any of it, however, before he sees a text from you saying that you’re coming over.

when you arrive, that same old tired look you always had before meeting him is there, and it has increased exponentially. gone is the vigor you two had fought so hard to restore. oh no.

he tries to greet you, but you just hold a hand up to stop him in his tracks. you take a seat on the couch and look so tense you could explode at any moment.

“chae already told me, but i want… i need to hear it from you. is it true?” you ask shakily.

“baby, listen, i was—”

“is. it. true?” you repeat impatiently.

“... yes, but i—”

“i see,” you say with a solemn nod and a tight-lipped smile. his mouth feels dry as he waits for you to elaborate, but after a long, long silence, he realizes that’s all you have to say in the face of his deceit. he wishes you would cry, or be angry and yell at him for lying to you. it’s infinitely worse, somehow, to see you accepting it as if it was a matter of course. and, to you, it is. of course he wouldn’t like you — let alone love you. of course it was all a sick, cosmic joke. that’s what you are. this is what you deserve, and you’re an idiot for expecting anything different from him or anyone else.

“well, i guess you’ve won the bet,” you sigh, rising from your seat and smoothing down your skirt. “congratulations.”

his eyes are watery now, but you perceive it as the reaction of a child getting caught doing something he knew was wrong in the first place. you have accepted things with the type of resignation only a truly defeated person would have, and it breaks him more than he ever supposed anything could.

“don’t be sad,” you can’t help but add when you notice his upper lip trembling. “you can smile; i know you want to. now you won’t have to deal with me anymore. i’m sorry for wasting your time.” your words snatch him out of his entranced state and he’s rushing to get his next thoughts out with a desperation he can only describe as primal.

“n-no, that’s not it at all! and don't be sorry! i… i’m the one who’s sorry. i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean —”

“it’s okay,” you cut in with a knowing smile, which shatters the last remnants of his heart. “i understand. i really, really do. i know you’re not a bad person. it’s my fault for taking this whole thing too seriously.” your smile is still there, but it has twisted into something truly ironic and teeming with disgust. not toward him, he realizes, but toward yourself. “i should’ve known better.”

he’s rendered speechless once again, but you don’t give him a chance to collect his thoughts before walking away, closing the door lightly behind you. what words can he say to you to undo what he’s done? he wishes he could dig out his heart so you’d understand his true intentions. they were ill at first, yes, but they’ve evolved into something different entirely. something so sincere and pure he doesn’t dare to show it to anyone other than you. and you’re so calm about this entire situation, it’s driving him mad. how could you think so lowly of yourself as to see this coming? how could you think his actions were anything less than appalling and cruel? and, oh god, what has he done?

you’re okay. you really, really are. living in the aftermath of what you had foolishly believed was love is painful, to say the very least, but there are worse things, after all. what those things could be, you can’t seem to think of at the moment, but you know they exist even if you don’t have the energy to ponder them at present. chaeyoung, as expected, is more loving than ever. she rarely leaves your side these days. she’s always been clingy, but there is a level of doting and care she reaches without complaint on her part. beomgyu, to his credit, has seemingly taken the hint and fucked off. he doesn’t show up to your shared class and you took the liberty of blocking him on everything you could possibly think of. even it he hadn’t gotten the memo, chaeyoung is by your side like a rabid dog and she will gladly bite if he approaches. you’re grateful for that, you guess. him essentially cutting himself out of your life has made pretending like he never existed much easier. there are still traces of him, though, and they haunt you viciously.

there’s a party celebrating your impending graduation, and you would rather die than go, to be honest, but chaeyoung makes such a convincing argument that you can’t help but relent after hearing her drone on and on about how you deserve to have fun and let loose since your college years are ending and you have yet to fully put yourself out there in terms of student life. you will, in all likelihood (and with any hope), never see most of these people again, so will it kill you to just let go for once? on top of that, it will be a welcome distraction from your downward spiral that inevitably comes when you think of beomgyu.

you don’t really know what you’re doing when it comes to dressing up besides the basics, but chaeyoung knows more than her fair share and is all too willing to doll you up in a way you previously thought was impossible. after her flitting hands while doing your makeup and careful choices in wardrobe, you barely recognize yourself. for once, you feel good. you feel confident. you even almost feel worthy of standing alongside a drop-dead gorgeous girl such as your best friend, so when you enter the door of the house party, you don’t feel as small as can be under the scrutinizing gazes of all the usual party goers. one familiar pair of eyes watches you in awe, though, even if you don’t notice. you’re much too engrossed in the atmosphere of pure fun to recognize anything else.

you’re not really one for dancing — far too awkward and uncoordinated to really try it — so you sit as comfortably as you can on the decidedly uncomfortable couch and sip on what must be your third drink this evening. you’re smiling in contentment at the sight of chaeyoung dancing with her new crush. if you can't be happy, you’ll be satisfied with her happiness, instead. this is how it should be, you think. this is how it always should’ve been.

you’re so stuck in your thoughts you don’t even turn your head at the feeling of the couch sinking as a boy sits next to you. that is, until he clears his throat and you’re snapping your eyes up to meet his.

“i’m taehyun. i’ve never seen you around before,” he casually remarks. he’s really beautiful, like, fresh off the runway beautiful. you almost wonder if he’s talking to somebody else for a second, but his expectant eye contact with you tells you otherwise. you shyly introduce yourself and mumble something about parties not particularly being your scene.

“really?” he smiles. “that’s a shame. i wish i’d seen you before tonight.” you can’t help but blush. “i’d like to get to know you, if that’s alright.” you’re not so stupid as to fall for a man with honeyed words, at least not again, but you find yourself caring less and less about the repercussions as your head feels foggier and foggier. so what if this is a sick joke? you’re almost out of this hellish purgatory you call school life, anyway. even if taehyun doesn’t end up liking you, what’s the harm in indulging in a little fun while you can? you’re not going to put your heart on the line again — you’re too jaded for that — but maybe you can enjoy his company for what it is, no matter how fleeting it may be. so before you can think any better of it, you agree.

or, at least, you try to, but your sentiment is cut short with a sharp tugging of your arm.

“beomgyu, what are you doing?” you hiss as he leads you to an unfortunate-smelling bathroom.

“i-i need to talk to you,” he replies sheepishly.

“what’s there to talk about?” you ask with a sigh. “i’m not mad at you. i forgive you. so what else do you want from me?” you actually seem a little annoyed, which he has never seen before from you. it causes him to sputter and almost lose his train of thought.

“you know what i want to talk about…” he says meekly.

“oh? the fact that you dated me and said you loved me because of a bet?” you can't help the bitterness that laces its way around the edges of your words.

“yes, it was for a bet, but then it wasn’t about that, anymore. i really did fall for you. i… i love you.”

“i don't believe you.”

“b-but i mean it! how can i make you trust me?” his voice is overrun with desperation, but you quirk your eyebrow at his words.

“you can't make me do anything. i don't know what you're getting out of this, maybe some sick satisfaction that you can pick me back up again at your leisure? maybe you just feel bad for me? whatever it is, i don't care anymore.”

“no! listen to me, i really do care about you! i know i hurt you, but let me be there for you. i… i'll prove to you how much i care. how much i love you.” you're quiet for a long, long time. an excruciatingly long time. you seem to consider every syllable he just uttered, but you don’t seem fazed by his sincere words at all, and he worries he's losing you for good. before he can stop himself, he gently cups your face in his hands and tenderly runs the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks. you don't push him away and, for that, he’s grateful.

“alright. alright, i do believe you. i believe you love and care about me,” you admit with a sigh. he lets out a shaky breath he didn’t even know he was holding in before he presses his forehead against yours. thank god you believe him. maybe you don’t trust him yet, but he’ll do everything in his power to earn it back.

“i believe you, but it’s not enough,” you say resolutely, grabbing his hands and prying them off of you. his heart sinks and he can’t help but feel the sting of tears in his eyes.

“i forgive you, i really, really do, but you can't treat people however you want and expect things to go back to the way they were just because you’re sorry. i can’t… i won’t accept that.” he winces and he makes no move to stop his tears from falling now, but he bites his lip to stop the whimpers.

“you know me. you know how hard it is for me to… to believe that i’m worth loving.” he flinches at your self-deprecating words and he wishes he could kiss your face and erase any doubts of your worthiness. you are the most lovable person in the world to him. he wants to shake you and demand that you see it, but what right does he have to do so? instead, all he can do is shake his head furiously in denial of your sentiments.

“and everything you said, everything you did, just makes me believe that i’m right about myself. even if you mean it now, i can't get over the fact that it was all a lie from the start. if you love and care about me like you say you do, don’t you think i deserve better than that? better than having to be reminded that the person i love the most in this world only chose me because he wanted to get his rent paid?”

“i’m… i’m so sorry,” he repeats with a whine. “i wish i could go back in time and redo everything.”

“but you can’t,” you say softly, and he whines again, like an animal.

“i promise… i promise that i really love you, okay? and i’ll wait for as long as i have to for you to see that,” he says between sobs. you can’t help but feel sorry for him. you’ve seen beomgyu cry from stress, but never from the pure, unadulterated amount of pain he’s feeling as of now. you almost want to acquiesce and let him have his way, but you can’t do that. you don’t have much dignity to speak of, but even you can’t tolerate a betrayal this sizable. maybe, before you met him, you would have, but ironically enough, his presence has taught you that you should never compromise yourself like that for anyone. not even for the one you love the most.

“thank you, beomie,” you say softly, “but i don’t want you to wait for me. i want you to be happy, okay?” you ask as you stand on your tiptoes and press a goodbye kiss to his forehead. “and i’ll try to be happy, too.” without waiting for an answer, you leave the bathroom and shut the door behind you.

“i don’t want to be happy if it’s not with you,” he mumbles bitterly, but you’re too far away to hear it.

notes pt. 2: is this cheesy? YES. do i care? ONLY A LITTLE BIT. anyway like i said lmk if u want a part two <3

taglist: @my313 @superbbananananana @zzhyuu @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @defnotleee @midwinterblizzard

*if you would like to be added to my permanent taglist or my taglist for the (maybe) upcoming next part, lmk!

#niningtori #cruel intentions #beomgyu angst #txt angst #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fic #txt fic #txt x reader #beomgyu x you #txt x you

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stylesispunk · 3 months

Text

'You gave me something to lose'

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel is afraid of losing you.

wc: 4k>

warnings: angst, mentions of panic attacks, fluff. Messy writing cause this is an old draft.

a/n: this was on my drafts for so long so I'm posting this as a gift because I'm going to London for the next two weeks and I won't be very active on here. So once I return, I promise I'll write the pendant things and requests I have. I hope you like this one. Happy reading 💌

dividerers by @/saradika-graphics

Joel didn’t fear anything, not dying nor being alone or even broke.

Not the clickers, not darkness, but you.

when his mission to take Ellie to the fireflies became into caring for the teen, he felt panicked.

And when he learned he had fallen deeply in love with you, you gave him something to lose.

And he was frightened.

Joel had always been a fortress, walls built high and strong to keep out the pain and loss he had endured. But now, those walls were crumbling. Each moment he spent with you, each secret you both had shared, each tender touch, chipped away at the defenses he had so meticulously constructed.

Since the day Joel met you at the QZ in Boston, you had stolen something from him. He didn’t decipher what back then, but every time you weren’t on his sight, a knot formed on his stomach. Every time he caught a glimpse of you, his blood rushed into his cheeks.

And God, every single time you smiled at him, he could find a reason to keep surviving in this world, again.

And that’s why when you had decided to go after him, when he and Tess took Ellie with them to the fireflies. He had made up his mind, between the anger and tinted loved was feeling for you right at that moment, he had decided he was going to protect you more than anything or anyone. Even when you got on his nerves.

The journey to the fireflies was grueling. The roads were treacherous, infested with clickers and hunters. Every step was a battle, every night a gamble. But Joel was relentless. He led the way with a grim determination, always keeping you and Ellie close. The tension was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked in every shadow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the desolate landscape, you found a moment of respite. The group set up camp in an abandoned building, its crumbling walls offering a semblance of shelter. Joel, ever vigilant, took the first watch.

You approached him, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across his weathered face. He looked up as you neared, his eyes softening slightly. “You should get some rest,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

You shook your head, sitting down beside him. “I can’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”

Joel glanced at you, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I get that.” There was a pause, a comfortable silence settling between you. “You know,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I never thought I’d feel this way again. Not after everything.”

You looked at him, searching his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve…” he paused, “Never mind.”

You furrowed your brow, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. “Joel, you can talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s just… it’s hard to explain.” He paused again, just a few seconds, lifting his gaze up to yours “Why did you followed us three?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, but you didn’t hesitate in your response. “I didn’t follow all of you. I followed you.”

“Why?”

“Because back in the QZ there wasn’t a life after you” you confessed, “Life sucks in there, but without you it would be worse.”

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, the vulnerability of your words hitting him harder than he expected. He stared at you, trying to process the depth of your feelings. “I never knew…”

“Of course you didn’t,” you interrupted softly. “You’ve always been so focused on surviving, on protecting Tess and yourself, that you’ve never stopped to see how much you mean to people. How much you mean to me.”

He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “Good to know it because I feel the same about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his admission filling you with warmth. "Joel..."

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “When I met you, I didn’t think I could care for anyone again. But you... you changed that.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to break the cosmic moment “I’m glad. Because I can’t imagine going through this without you.”

Joel reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. “Now can you, please go to sleep?”

“Can I sleep here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah, you can.”

He shifted, making room for you to lie down beside him. As you settled in, the warmth of his body next to yours was both comforting and grounding. You felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and protected.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“For what?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your hair.

“For letting me in. For trusting me.”

Joel pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I trust you more than anyone. And I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled, the weight of the world feeling just a little bit lighter in his arms. “We’ll figure it out together. “As the night deepened, the sounds of the wilderness outside seemed distant, the crackling fire casting a gentle glow around you. Joel’s steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest were the lullaby that finally coaxed you into sleep. In his arms, you found a peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

He felt his heart giving up for you.

That had happened a few months ago.

And Joel had become afraid. He found himself lying awake almost every night, staring at the sky and the stars, a storm of thoughts raging in his mind. What if something happened to you? What if he couldn't protect you? The thought of losing you, of seeing the light fade from your eyes, was a nightmare he couldn't bear. It was a fear far greater than anything he had ever faced; greater than the harsh realities of the post-apocalyptic world he had navigated for so long.

During the day, he tried to push these fears aside, trying to focus on the present. But it was impossible. Every smile you gave him reminded him of what he stood to lose. Every time you reached for his hand, his heart ached with the weight of his love for you and the dread of its potential loss.

He watched you with Ellie, how you cared for her, and how you brought joy and laughter into her bleak world. He saw how you made her feel safe and loved, and it only made his feelings for you deepen. Ellie, too, had become a part of this fragile, makeshift family, and his love for both of you intertwined, creating a web of vulnerability he couldn't escape.

The wind howled outside, carrying with it the bitter cold of the frozen winter night. Inside the small, dilapidated cabin, a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room. You, Joel, and Ellie huddled close to the fire, trying to fend off the chill that seemed to seep through the very walls.

Ellie poked at the fire with a stick, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "What do you think it’ll be like, Joel?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Joel looked up from the map he was studying, his eyes softening as he met Ellie’s gaze. "What do you mean?"

"After the cure," she said. "When this is all over. What do you think it’ll be like?"

Joel leaned back against the rough wooden wall, his mind drifting to a time long past. "I reckon things will be...different. Better, maybe. People could rebuild, start over. There might be schools again, towns with shops, places where kids can just be kids."

Ellie smiled at the thought, her imagination running wild with possibilities. "I want to learn to play guitar," she said. "Like you, Joel. You promised to teach me, remember?"

Joel chuckled softly, a rare sound in these harsh times. "Yeah, I remember. We'll find one, and I'll teach you. Maybe we can even have a little concert, you and me."

You watched the exchange, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "What about you, Joel? What's something you’d want to do?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. "I... I’d like to have a place of our own. Somewhere safe. Maybe a little house with a garden. We could grow our own food, live a quiet life. Just...be together."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "That sounds nice," you said softly. "Really nice."

The conversation drifted into a comfortable silence, each of you lost in thoughts of a hopeful future. You leaned against Joel, the warmth of his body a comforting presence. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer.

Ellie yawned and stretched out on the floor next to the fire. "I think I'm going to get some sleep," she said, her voice already heavy with exhaustion.

"Good idea," Joel replied. "I’ll keep the watch."

Ellie nodded and pulled her blanket tightly around herself, quickly drifting off to sleep. You and Joel stayed by the fire, the quiet crackling of the flames the only sound in the room.

"Do you really think there’s hope for a cure?" you asked quietly, your head resting on his shoulder.

Joel sighed, his fingers gently stroking your arm. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to believe there is. For Ellie. For you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes searching his. "You’ve been through so much, Joel. Yet you still find it in you to hope. That’s incredible."

He shook his head slightly. "It's not hope," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you.”

Joel’s panic attacks had become more frequent as the days passed. Every quiet moment seemed to stretch into an eternity of worry and fear. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him, and the constant fear that he wouldn’t be able to protect you or Ellie gnawed at him relentlessly.

When the three of you had finally arrived at Jackson, Joel’s thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jackson was a sanctuary, a place where you could all be safe, but his fears didn’t dissipate. If anything, they grew stronger. The more secure the surroundings, the more he worried about what could go wrong.

Jackson was bustling with life, a stark contrast to the desolate landscapes they had traversed. Children played in the streets, people worked in gardens, and there was a sense of community and hope that was almost overwhelming. Joel watched it all with a heavy heart, his mind racing.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to die, that some unseen danger would take him away from you and Ellie. The thought of leaving you unprotected was unbearable. That’s when the idea started to form: maybe the best way to protect you was to leave you in Jackson, where you’d be safe. Where you could even find someone younger than him to kept you alive.

Joel sought out his brother. He found Tommy in the community hall, finishing up some late-night paperwork. The room was quiet, the only sound the scratch of Tommy’s pen against the paper.

"Tommy," Joel said, his voice low and strained.

Tommy looked up, immediately sensing the urgency in his brother’s tone. "Joel, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling. He sat down across from Tommy, his eyes filled with anguish. "I need to talk to you. It’s about Ellie and... and my….my " He couldn’t find the words to describe you. Calling you his lover wasn’t a proper word to use, it felt so weak. There was not nickname that could make justice to what you meant to him.

“Your girlfriend?” Tommy asked.

Joel nodded.

Tommy set his pen down, giving Joel his full attention. "Alright, tell me what’s on your mind."

Joel’s voice cracked as he spoke. "I don’t know how much longer I can do this. The fear... it’s eating me alive. I’m so scared something’s going to happen to them, and I won’t be able to protect them."

Tommy’s expression softened. "Joel, you’re in Jackson now. It’s safe here. We’ve got walls, people who care about each other. You don’t have to do this alone."

Joel shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "You don’t understand. I feel like I’m going to die, like something’s going to take me away from them. And then what? What happens to them if I’m gone?"

Tommy reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. "We’ll take care of them, Joel. You’re not alone in this."

Joel’s tears began to fall, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m asking you to take Ellie with you. Keep her safe. And let my baby stay here in Jackson. She deserves a life that’s not filled with running and fear."

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock. "Joel, are you sure about this? You’re talking about leaving them behind."

"I’m not leaving them," Joel said, his voice trembling. "I’m trying to protect them. They’ll be safer without me."

Tommy sighed, his heart breaking for his brother. "And what about you, Joel? What happens to you if you leave?"

Joel wiped his tears, trying to steady himself. "I’ll find a way to keep going. I just need to know they’re safe. That’s all that matters."

Tommy nodded slowly, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear and love. "Alright, Joel. If this is what you think is best, I’ll take care of them. But you need to talk to them first. They deserve to know why you’re doing this."

Joel nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. "I will. Thank you, Tommy."

Tommy pulled Joel into a tight embrace; his voice filled with emotion. "We’re family, Joel. We take care of each other."

Joel clung to his brother, the tears flowing freely now. He knew the conversation with you and Ellie would be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do, but he also knew it was necessary. The fear of losing you both was too great to ignore, and he hoped that, in time, you would understand why he had to make this choice.

Joel walked slowly to Ellie’s room, his heart heavy with the burden of what he was about to do. He knew this conversation would be one of the hardest of his life, but he also believed it was necessary. He took a deep breath and knocked softly on her door.

“Come in,” Ellie’s voice called from inside.

He opened the door and stepped into the room. Ellie was sitting on her bed, reading one of the books she had found in Jackson’s library. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, but her smile faded when she noticed the serious expression on his face.

“Joel, what’s wrong?” she asked, her brows furrowing with concern.

Joel closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at Ellie, her young face full of life and determination, and it made his heart ache.

“Ellie, we need to talk,” he said softly, struggling to find the right words.

Ellie set her book aside and gave him her full attention. “What’s going on?”

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “Ellie, I’ve been thinking a lot about our journey, about everything we’ve been through. And... about what comes next.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice rising with emotion. “Joel, no. We’re supposed to stick together. We’re a team.”

Joel looked down, unable to meet her eyes. “Ellie, I’m not sure I can keep doing this. The fear... it’s too much. I’m scared something’s going to happen to you, and I won’t be able to protect you.”

Ellie reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “We protect each other, Joel. That’s how we’ve always done it.”

Joel swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “I’m asking Tommy to take you to the fireflies. He’ll keep you safe until you arrive to the hospital.”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head fiercely. “No, Joel. I’m not going without you. We’ve come this far together, and I’m not leaving you.”

Joel’s heart ached at her words, but he forced himself to continue. “Ellie, you need to understand. I’m not... I’m not your father. I can’t be the one to keep you safe forever.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Ellie’s tears began to fall. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father, Joel. Don’t you get that? Fuck”

Joel’s own tears threatened to spill over, but he steeled himself. “But you’re not my daughter and I’m not your father.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice filled with desperation. “No, Joel. Please. Don’t do this. We need you.”

Joel reached out, cupping her face in his hands. “I need you to trust me, Ellie. This is the best way to keep you safe.”

Ellie pulled away from his touch, her face a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I don’t want to be safe if it means losing you. You and her are all I have, Joel.”

Joel stood up, his heart shattering at her words. “I’m sorry, Ellie. But this is how it has to be.”

He turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a lead weight. He paused at the doorway, looking back at Ellie one last time.

With that, he walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against the wall, his heart breaking at the sound of Ellie’s muffled sobs. He knew this was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made, but he believed it was the right one.

As he stood there, trying to compose himself, he heard footsteps approaching. You appeared at the end of the hallway, having heard the conversation. Your eyes met his, and in that moment, he saw the same mix of anger, hurt, and confusion that Ellie had shown.

You approached Joel slowly, your face a mix of anger and hurt. He could see the questions in your eyes, the need for an explanation that would make sense of the pain he had caused.

"Joel," you said, your voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

Joel looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm trying to keep you both safe. You and Ellie. This place, Jackson... it's where you can have a real life."

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer. "And you think abandoning us is the way to do that? How could you even consider leaving us behind?"

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's not abandoning you. It's making sure you're protected. If something happens to me—"

You cut him off, your voice rising with emotion. "Don't you get it, Joel? We need you. Ellie needs you. I need you. You're the reason we've made it this far. You can't just walk away."

Joel's eyes were filled with pain as he looked up at you. "I can't shake the fear that I'm going to die, that I won't be there when you need me most. I thought if I left, you'd be safer."

You stepped even closer, your anger giving way to desperation. "Safer? Joel, we've faced everything together. We protect each other. How can you think we'd be better off without you? How can you think I would be better off without you?""

Joel's voice was barely a whisper. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you knew you had to make him understand. You reached out, taking his hands in yours. "Joel, I love you. I need you with me, not just for protection, but because you're my love. Leaving me won't keep me safe; it'll break me."

Joel looked at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I don't know if I can do this. The fear is... it's too much."

You squeezed his hands, your voice gentle but firm. "We'll face it together, Joel. Just like we always have. You're not alone in this. Please, don't leave me."

Joel pulled you into a tight embrace, his tears finally spilling over. "I'm so scared," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion.

You held him close, your own tears falling. "I know, Joel. But we're stronger together. I need you. Ellie and I need you"

As you stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the hallway, Joel felt the weight of his fear begin to lift. The love and determination in your voice gave him the strength he needed to keep going. At least for a bit.

After a long moment, Joel pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I was trying to do the right thing.”

You nodded; your heart full of relief. "We'll figure it out, Joel. Together."

Joel took a deep breath, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you so much,” he said, pecking your lips.

Your heart swelled with emotion as you returned his kiss, a soft, reassuring touch. “I love you too, Joel,” you whispered, your voice steady with conviction.

Joel rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if trying to etch this moment into his memory. “I just don’t want to lose you or Ellie. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to either of you.”

You stroked his cheek, your thumb brushing away a stray tear. “We’re not going anywhere, Joel. We’ve made it through so much already, and we’ll keep making it through. Together.”

He nodded, pulling you into a tighter embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting reminder of his presence. “Together,” he repeated, his voice more confident now.

You pulled back slightly from the embrace, looking up into Joel’s eyes. "Come on," you said softly, taking his hand. "Let’s get cleaned up. It’s been a long day."

He nodded, allowing you to lead him down the hall to the bathroom. The room was small, but it had a functioning shower—one of the many luxuries you had come to appreciate in this place. You turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right.

Joel stood there, watching you with an exhaustion and adoration. He started to undress, his movements were slow You did the same, your eyes meeting his with every piece of clothing that fell to the floor. There was an unspoken understanding between you. Both of you bared int front of each other, stealing glances of your bodies in display.

Once you were both undressed, you stepped into the shower together. The warm water cascaded over your bodies, washing away the grime and tension of the day. You reached for the soap, lathering it between your hands before gently running them over Joel’s shoulders and back.

He sighed, leaning into your touch. "You don’t have to do this," he murmured.

"I want to," you replied, your voice tender. "Let me take care of you." You said, pressing a kiss on his wet shoulder.

You continued to wash him, your hands moving in soothing, circular motions. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment began to ease the tension in his muscles. When you reached his hair, you took the shampoo and began to work it into a lather, your fingers massaging his scalp.

Joel closed his eyes, a soft groan escaping his lips. "That feels nice," he admitted.

You smiled, continuing to wash his hair with gentle care. "Good. You deserve to relax."

After rinsing the shampoo from his hair, you handed him the soap. "Your turn," you said with a playful smile.

He took the soap, his hands surprisingly gentle as he began to wash your shoulders and back. The feel of his strong, calloused hands against your skin was comforting, a reminder of how much you meant to each other. He took his time, his touch tender and affectionate, showing the love he felt for you.

When he reached your hair, he repeated the process, his fingers working the shampoo through your locks with the same care you had shown him. You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of his hands in your hair and the warmth of the water cascading over you.

For a while, the two of you stood there, simply enjoying the closeness and the rare moment of peace. The world outside might be filled with danger and uncertainty, but here, in this small bathroom, there was only love.

When you were both clean, you turned off the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it around Joel’s shoulders before taking another for yourself. You helped each other dry off, the intimacy of the moment deepening the existent bond between you.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "Thank you," he said softly.

You cupped his face in your hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "We’re in this together, Joel. Always."

He nodded, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Together," he echoed.

As you both stood there in the warmth of the bathroom, wrapped in towels and each other's embrace, the bond between you felt stronger than ever. The fear and uncertainty of the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the love and trust you had for each other.

Joel kissed the top of your head and took your hand, leading you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the bedroom, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. You both moved slowly, savoring the peaceful moment.

You helped Joel into bed, making sure he was comfortable before slipping in beside him. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you. The simple act of being in his arms felt like the safest place in the world.

Joel tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead as he spoke. "I love you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I can ever put into words."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the raw honesty in his eyes. "I love you too, Joel. So much."

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don't think I've ever felt this way before. I mean, caring this much for someone. Not since Sarah. And it's... it's scary. But it's also the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt."

Your heart ached for him at the mention of Sarah, but you knew how important it was for Joel to express his feelings. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubble. "It's okay to be scared, Joel. But you're not alone in this. We’re in it together."

Joel nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You've given me something I thought I’d lost forever. Hope. A reason to keep fighting. And I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to protect you, to make sure we have a future together."

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "We’ll protect each other. And we’ll build that future, one day at a time."

He wrapped his arms around you tighter, holding you close as if trying to memorize the feeling of having you in his arms. "I promise you, I'll never let anything happen to you. You and Ellie mean everything to me."

You snuggled closer, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "And you mean everything to us, Joel. We're stronger together."

Joel sighed contentedly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "Thank you for standing by me, for believing in me. I don't know what I’d do without you."

You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere."

With that, you both drifted into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the world outside momentarily forgotten. In each other's arms, you found solace and strength, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.

Hours later, Joel woke up in the middle of the night, the room shrouded in darkness. He instinctively reached out for you, but his hand found only empty space. Panic surged through him, his heart pounding as he sat up, his eyes scanning the room.

"Baby, where are you?" he muttered, throwing the blankets aside as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He quickly pulled on his pants and a shirt, his movements hurried and frantic. The fear of losing you, so deeply ingrained in his mind, took hold as he rushed out of the bedroom.

He moved swiftly down the hallway, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Had something happened? Had someone taken you? The thoughts were unbearable. He reached the top of the stairs and bolted down them, nearly stumbling in his haste.

When he reached the bottom, he paused, his eyes darting around the living room. Relief washed over him as he saw you sitting on the couch, a cup of tea cradled in your hands. You looked up, startled by his sudden appearance.

"Joel, what’s wrong?" you asked, concern etching your features.

He let out a shaky breath, his heart still racing. "I woke up and you weren’t there," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I thought something had happened to you."

You set your tea down on the table and stood up, crossing the room to him. "I’m sorry," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make some tea. I didn’t mean to scare you."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if to reassure himself that you were really there. "It’s okay," he murmured into your hair. "I just...I can’t bear the thought of losing you."

You held him just as tightly, feeling the intensity of his emotions. "You won’t lose me, Joel. I promise."

He nodded, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "I know. It’s just...sometimes the fear gets the better of me."

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "I understand," you said gently. "But we’re safe here. We have each other."

He sighed, the tension slowly easing from his body. "Yeah, we do."

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. "Sit with me for a while. The tea is still warm."

He followed you, sitting down beside you on the couch. You picked up your cup and handed it to him. "Here, takes a sip. It’ll help you relax."

He took the cup, his hands still slightly trembling. He sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through him, helping to calm his nerves. "Thanks," he said, his voice steadier.

You leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "We’ll get through this, Joel. Together."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "Yeah, we will."

The two of you sat there in the quiet of the night, the warmth of the tea and the comfort of each other’s presence soothing the fears that had momentarily overwhelmed him. In that moment, Joel felt a renewed sense of peace, knowing that as long as you were by his side, he could face anything the future held.

As the minutes passed, the tension in Joel's body melted away. He looked down at you, your eyes closed, content and calm. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he whispered, the words carrying all the weight of his heart.

"I love you too," you replied softly, without opening your eyes.

Joel took another sip of the tea, its warmth soothing him from the inside out. The night was still and quiet, a rare tranquility enveloping your home. He gazed around the room, taking in the modest, yet comforting surroundings. This place, this sanctuary in Jackson, could become more than just a shelter. A home.

You snuggled closer to him, and Joel felt a profound sense of gratitude. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to truly believe in the possibility of a future filled with hope and love. The horrors of the past, the constant threats of the present, they all seemed a little more bearable with you by his side.

"We’ve been through so much," he said quietly, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "But sitting here with you, it makes it all worth it."

You opened your eyes and looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We’ve found something real, Joel. Something worth fighting for. And no matter what comes our way, we’ll face it together."

Joel nodded, feeling the truth of your words settle deep within him. "Together," he echoed, his voice filled with conviction. "Always."

The two of you sat there in the stillness, the warmth of each other's presence a balm for your souls. Joel felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in years. With you, he had found a reason to hope, to believe in a better tomorrow.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with him. You noticed his eyelids growing heavy and gently took the cup from his hands, setting it on the table. "Come on," you whispered, standing up and offering your hand. "Let’s get some rest."

Joel took your hand and allowed you to lead him back to the bedroom. The room was still bathed in the soft glow of the lamp, casting a warm light over the bed. You both slipped under the covers, and Joel pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

With you in his arms, the fear and anxiety that had plagued him earlier faded away. The rhythm of your breathing, the steady beat of your heart against his chest, all served as a reminder of the love and strength you shared.

"Goodnight, Joel," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "Goodnight," he replied, pressing a final kiss to your forehead.

As he closed his eyes, Joel felt a deep sense of contentment. No matter what the future held, he knew that with you by his side, he could face it all. Together, you had built something beautiful amidst the chaos, and that was something worth holding on to.

In the quiet darkness, with you in his arms, Joel finally allowed himself to drift into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of the life you would continue to build together, one filled with love, hope, and endless possibilities.

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monstersflashlight · 5 months

Note

I am very fond of your writing and have a somewhat unique request.

Could you write something with a fem sub werewolf who is really butch and tuff and sort of bratty in her human for a but turns Into a puppy when she well. . . Turns.

I totally get it if this isn't your stile but I thought the power dynamic could be fun.

Regardless be well and drink water. < 3

Thank you for your kind words! It means the world. I hope this is somewhat close to what you expected, I tried my best. It was really fun to write, I love power dynamics and bratty subs (and butch fems, especially the muscular ones).

Fem!Werewolf x Non-gendered human || dom/sub dynamic, power play, spanking

Pack nights were long and tiring, and you hated to show up just to be listening to a bunch of men trying to see who had it longer (metaphorically). But your girlfriend? She loved it. She fitted right in between them, she gained the respect of them all, the bulging muscles, the posture, the way she talked around them.

You couldn’t blame them, you fell for her because of those reasons too. She was just so… big. So muscular. She could lift you with one arm if she wanted, but did she? No, she didn’t. In public she was this big personality that overpowered everyone, but in private? In private she was just bratty. She loved to push your buttons and tease you. And then she transformed and became nothing but a needy little pet for you to play with. Nobody knew, though. Just you.

And today wasn’t different. She started slow, making remarks about the way you made lunch. Making jokes about the way she looked even though she knew you hated when she tried to make fun of herself. Coming home from the gym all sweaty and panting, but denying you when you followed her to the shower, excusing herself because you two had to leave soon. And then she had the audacity to put on that fucking gray sweatpants you loved, how low they fell down her hips, how her abs were framed by the elastic of the pants. You loved those fucking pants. But not in public. The sluttiness of those pants was just for you. And she knew that.

She got away with it, you couldn’t tell her to change if you were going to be on time. And to make it even worse, she winked at you, biting her lower lip as she passed you. That little shit. She knew what she was doing. And she was playing the big leagues at it. Teasing you on a professional level. She was pushing your buttons on purpose. Game on, you thought. You were competitive as fuck, and you weren’t gonna lose against your bratty girlfriend. Not a chance in hell. Before the night ended, she’ll be a needy mess under you.

You sat right beside her at the pack meeting, your lower half hidden under the table. Your hand started innocent enough, grabbing her muscular thigh as someone talked about some trade with other pack you didn’t care about. You could feel the power of her muscles under your hand, and the way she pushed her legs together as you tried to touch the inside of her thigh. You didn’t like that. The anger inside of you growing with each passing second. She was trying to deny you, again.

She wore the fucking sweatpants, she was annoying all day on purpose, and your blood was running hotter than normal. And now she dared to deny you access to her pussy? Oh no, she didn’t. You closed your mouth and waited, your hand never leaving her thigh. Your anger rising slowly as the meeting progressed.

When the two of you exited the building you were fuming, your adrenaline and anger mixing to create a ticking bomb inside of you. You made as far as the car before you were grabbing her short hair and pulling her towards you.

“You know what you were doing teasing me, didn’t you?” She whimpered, nodding shyly as you grabbed her chin with more force than needed. “Strip. Turn. And run.” You ordered, each word followed by a light pull of her hair. She nodded, stripping before you and leaving her clothes on the ground. You picked them up, throwing them inside the car as she ran in her half-turn form. You knew she wouldn’t go far, a chase wasn’t what she was looking for today. She wanted to be punished for her behaviour. She wanted to get pounded into the ground. She wanted to be dominated.

You waited for a bit, knowing full well she’d be panting even before you went after her. The woods surrounding the pack hall were dense, but you knew she would be by the clearing not too long from there. You followed the path, thinking how would be the best way to punish your bratty girlfriend.

You saw her, kneeling in the middle of the clearing, the moon over her like a caress, making her shine.

“Face down. Ass up.” You ordered, not touching her yet. She obeyed instantly, tail waggling behind her involuntary. Cute. You grabbed her tail without any caress, pulling a bit too hard and making her whimper. That fueled you, the game she was playing before long forgotten. She teased and teased, and now it was time for punishment.

“What a bratty slut, teasing me all night, and for what? You want your pussy pounded? You want to take my knot so far you see stars?” She could only whimper as you teased her needy cunt. She was velvety soft and wet, so, so wet. “So wet for me already. Don’t you have any smart remarks now, do you? You pushed all my buttons during the pack meeting, knowing full well what you were doing, weren’t you, pet?” She whimpered again, pushing her ass up to try push your fingers inside. You laughed at her neediness. “All that muscle, all that posturing for everyone to see and you are just a slutty, slutty pet. So ready to take it. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For me to take you right here, in the open. Maybe somebody would see, maybe somebody would know how needy you really are.”

“Is this what you wanted? My hand against you?” Your fingers were circling her clit without any pressure, making her whimper and moan. She was squirming under you, every cell of her body vibrating with desire and pent up frustration.

“Yes, yes! Please!” Desperate groans were escaping her mouth as she tried to get more friction, pushing her ass up into your hand. You laughed again.

“You sound so pretty when you beg.” You took your hand away, caressing her inner thighs where her desire was dripping. You lowered down, lapping at her juices without getting close to where she wanted you the most. Marveling at her whine of protest. She was desperate and needy. But she wasn’t going to get the release she wanted. She spent the whole day proving your patience, and it ran out.

“Pleaseeee.” She begged over and over, her head moving against the grass as she tried to push back into your hand. So hot. You pressed against her clit one more time and then took your hand away from her soaked pussy, making her cry out and whine in two seconds.

She pushed her ass up again. “Oh no, pet. You teased me all day, and now I deserve some payback, don’t you think?” She was looking at you over her shoulder, her mouth open as she panted, her eyes shiny with unshod tears. You wanted those tears, they were yours to collect. “Be still.” You commanded. She whimpered softly. And then your hand made contact with the left cheek of her ass, making the perfect sound. Both of you groaned.

You continued spanking each cheek alternatively, making her squirm. Her ass looked so good marked by your hands, you wish you had your paddle with you, but that could wait. Next time. You kept going, knowing full well she could take it. Your handprint was visible against her cheeks, making you smile as her tears rolled down her face. “So pretty when you cry.” You murmured, she moaned. You keep hitting, massaging her abused ass every once in a while to make her squirm. You teased her core with your fingers, pushing the tip inside as she groaned. With each spank, her back arched and she let out a bunch of curses and swears, begging and pleading you to stop and to keep going. The sounds she was making were the best music you’d ever heard. She sounded wrecked, and you loved it.

And suddenly, her back arched impossibly as her body convulsed. “Did you come just from me spanking you? Oh yes, you did. So needy that you don’t even need my fingers to cum. Such a slutty, slutty pet that can come just from her ass getting spanked.” She flushed all over, trying to hide her mortification. Your tone was mocking as you saw her pussy gaping, all shiny and juicy, puffy after her release. You pushed your fingers inside to watch her try to get away, grabbing her tail back to stop her. You finger fucked the last tremors out of her, laughing as she cried out.

#werewolf #werewolf girl #werewolf x human #monster #monster girl #monster x human #monster imagine #teratophillia #monster girlfriend #monster fucker #requests

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satoruwiki · 8 months

Note

Naoya nsfw and sfw relationship headcanons pleeeaasse . He's a terribly guilty pleasure and not many people write him (probably because he's a toxic sh*t)

omg anon you’re so right bc who would want an absolute toxic misogynistic fuck of a man (me, i do/j) i was supposed to post this yesterday but i forgor, sorry! btw i may or may not be working a second version of the atrocious fic i did a few days ago abt him… if its of anybody’s interest…

͏͏͏͏ ͏͏͏͏ ♡₊˚ Naoya is the type of man to…𓈒 ˚ ⟡

content: jjk headcanons; half sfw/half nsfw; afab!reader; glimpse of the horrors you’d be going through as his partner lol

n/a: i’m making more content for naoya than my glorious blue eyed king lmao ;-;

these are my hcs! feel free to agree or disagree :b any request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3

sfw ver! ୨ৎ

Naoya is the type of man to… spoil you rotten. Not because you deserve it—maybe you do—but because one of Naoya’s biggest weaknesses is his pride and reputation, and yours affects his. He can’t have his gf/fiancée/wife wearing low-quality or average clothing, you have to look worthy of him (at least on the outside). So he will gift you kimonos made with the finest fabric and the finest accessories to pair with. If you’re smart enough, you might be able to take advantage of that and manipulate him to buy you whatever you want, but you better be kissing the soil he walks on afterwards.

Naoya is the type of man to… be overprotective and ridiculously jealous. You won’t be able to go out by yourself. Not without him being there or at least one of his servants, what if another man tries to have a conversation with you? What if you flirt back? He doesn’t trust you or anyone but himself. He has to make sure you aren’t fooling around. Besides, you’re so weak—or at least that’s what he thinks—you need someone to protect you. What if someone disrespects you? He can’t let that slide, the only one allowed to treat you poorly is him.

Naoya is the type of man to… secretly like your praises. He won’t tell you, of course, but he does like having someone recognizing his strength—the main reason he’s so protective of you, trying to look like a knight in shining armour—and how great he is on his day-to-day basis. He will be pissed whenever you get mad at him and don’t praise him. He won’t say it directly nor apologize for whatever he did, but you might find an ‘apology’ gift on your side of the bed. If it’s a mistake you did—which to him is always going to be your fault—an easy way to get him to be in a better mood is stroking his ego with lots of praise.

Naoya is the type of man to… expect you to be the perfect wife. Naoya is a very demanding man, he expects nothing but perfection. He expects you to always look pretty, cook, and clean, like your typical traditional wife. Being a conservative man, he will expect you to not speak when gathering with the other clansmen—or outside in general—unless you’re allowed to. It’s for your good, he’d hate for you to embarrass yourself.

Naoya is the type of man to… only marry you for benefits. In matters of love, he is quite unfeeling, however, to maintain his position as the head of the Hei, he must get married and have offspring. This burden, as he would call it, is likely to be done through an arranged marriage. Just because you were chosen over the other bachelorettes doesn't necessarily mean you're at the same level as him—you will always be below him, and perhaps unworthy of him to his eyes—but you're definitely better than the rest, or at least you were the prettiest one. You might be of use to him.

nsfw ver! ୨ৎ

Naoya is the type of man to… degrade the hell out of you. Naoya’s degradation IS NOT for the weak. If he already treats you relatively poorly daily, it gets worse when he fucks you. He’s also going to fuck you rough, so don’t even try to ask him to go slower, he won’t comply. Don’t worry though, he might make sure that you cum (even to the point of overstimulating you) as it boosts up his ego, it makes him think he’s so good he can have his partner squirting for him and begging for more—this is only when he's in a good mood though, otherwise, he couldn't care less if you cum or not.

Naoya is the type of man to… head push you on purpose for you to gag on his dick. He likes the messy and filthy look on your tear streaked face and drool running down your chin, it makes him want to shoot his load on you (which he will).

Naoya is the type of man to… slap you, during or outside sex. Naoya is very ill-tempered, he’s prone to get physical and slap you (just look at how he used to bully maki and mai) or have angry sex with you. Whether it was your fault or someone else’s, he’ll blow off some steam fucking you stupid, and expect you to have bruises frequently.

Naoya is the type of man to… punish you while fucking. Like I said before, Naoya is very prone to angry sex and will punish you as he fucks you. Expect lots of choking, spitting, clit and face slapping and probably your ass bruised as well as your scalp, he wont take in consideration of his strength and yank it hard.

Naoya is the type of man to… use you as his cum dumpster. He doesn’t care if you’re in the mood or not, that’s what you’re there for, basically. He just got back from a meeting with the clansmen and he’s stressed? Get on your knees and suck him off. He's mad? Bend over or spread your legs. You better not object or make any sort of complaint, just take it like a good girl. Chances are that you end up pregnant (because he’s the type to forbid you from using birth control), he hopes it's a boy or he’s gonna blame it on you. (even if he’s the one responsible for the baby’s gender but ok)

Naoya is the type of man to… have a feet kink. I literally have no explanation for this one, just look at his face and tell me he does not have a thing for feet 😭

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen #jjk headcanons #jjk smut #jjk naoya #headcanon #jjk hcs #naoya x you #zenin naoya #naoya x reader #naoya zenin #naoya smut #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk zenin

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gowonminajxx · 1 year

Text

— full bed.

a miguel o’ hara fic ~ 1st part here, not required.

— NSFW miguel o’ hara x fem!reader

you are mayday’s babysitter. miguel insists on drinks after mayday falls asleep and is picked up by peter. for a quick summary, it leaves you in his bed.

\\ quick A/N :: thank you guys for so much recognition recently 😭 im very new to fanfic writing, so i wasnt expecting the nice requests + messages i got. thank u as a whole

quick taglist :: @neverlandlostchild - @hachipachiwachi - @antiliqueorbs

// CWs :: extreme smut, biting, blood. p in v. extra shit at the end. just 3 words of fluff tbh,......

// other notes :: i’m latina myself ! although i am not fluent in spanish, so please correct me if anything is wrong 🎀🎀

“ cariño — honey, dear

miumiulicious 2023.

pain.

you were a little sensitive to it, but overall had a better tolerance for it than other people. obviously, mental pain hurt a lot worse than physical, but — why was the current state of physical pain you were in so pleasureful?

you had never found yourself enjoying something so much, allowing a pleasureful feeling to drive someone else wild, like an animal, as they grew based off of your whimpers. your cries, your shaking body, the tingling sharpness on your neck after dominant marks were placed on it. marks of miguel.

his inhumane fangs would dig abnormally deep into your skin, sucking every last bit of energy out of you — including your supper and sweet blood. the little soft grunts he'd add on after, combined with his aggressive, pessimistic words to you, just made you so crazy.

the mixture of both of your need for this kind of sexual intimacy drove you both insane, so psychotic miguel just couldn't get enough of you. his head had immediately lowered down, even if he didn't get enough of your red liquids from your neck.

his breath was hot against your naked folds, sending chills all over you, goosebumps appearing as teased you. his teasing was so soft, yet so dominant.

"so wet, already, huh?" a once furrowed brow raised on his face as he stared into your eyes, irises swiveling and swirling with only one feeling for how this night would go on — lust.

he dominated you by getting on top, your legs being spread out right in front of his crotch. while his thick hands caressed your face as he spoke, you couldn't make out a word he was saying, your ears almost ringing as your vision felt a little hazy. must of been the thirsty blood withdrawal he performed on you.

you shivered a little as he unzipped his pants, swearing that a cold breeze had just passed by in the room while your eyes widened at his cock size. he was so easily hard, precum already seeping as his grin grew at your shock. this would be fun.

without any explanation or communication whatsoever, he slammed his hips against you, chest leaning over yours as his head redirected to the space on the bed beside yours. his arms rested on the blankets while you couldn't rest at all, your body tensing up, shrieking as your walls clenched around his hard length. your arms instantly wrapped around his wide back, clawing into the skin.

no matter if it was start or finish, miguel's cock had kissed your cervix in all the right ways, but it was so rough, screams escaping your already opened lips. his pace quickened, already nearing his climax as you felt his cock get hard inside of you.

he whispered into your ears clearly, your blurred hearing already being forgotten about. with a low grunt mixed with a seductive whisper, he spoke.

"love my huge cock inside of you, huh? hitting you in all the right ways.." he bit his lip, breath hitching in his throat as he quickened his pounds against your clit. his balls slapped against you, creating the loudest claps you've ever heard in your life. your nails dug further into his back, a natural reaction while your body loosened up just a bit.

"scream, just for me, cariño.." he groaned, combining with your muffled expanded moans. the way his cock abused your walls so roughly just felt the best, no matter the pain level.

"m-miguel.. m' gnna'.." you murmured as his hips bucked against yours, cock sending shock waves of fluids mixed with your own screams through out your body before you orgasmed. he didn't seem to take note of the fluids covering his cock, and quickened his thrusts even further, grunting like an animal — almost loudly whimpering like he was desperate for this pretty clit of yours.

the moment absorbed everything, his breath speeding up just like yours, letting out the most boisterous groans of his life, before he finally climaxed in unison with you — your second orgasm while it was his first.

almost as if he knew this would happen, his length pulled out rapidly, his thick white fluids decorating your chest and stomach like a cake decoration. you let out your last moan, panting as you felt your body finally realize its extreme heat. you felt like you were in a pot of lava, and he could relate.

his body collapsed over yours, cock resting vertically on your clit, rubbing against it a little. sighing, he placed a kiss on your neck, licking the previous wounds as if he was still searching for blood. you winced at this, before he kissed you on your cheek. your hands still held tight onto his back, before he laid next to you like a limp stuffed animal.

"fuck.." he cursed lowly, before tensing up as you wrapped your exhausted arms around him. his eyes widened despite yours shutting calmly, cheek pressed against his rib.

you smiled as his arms shortly wrapped around your back, hugging you in close.

(?) extra ::

before you left in the morning, scrambling out of bed and rummaging through the room for your clothes, miguel had scared you.

you were walking to the kitchen, grabbing your keys and phone, looking around to check if anything, or anyone was there. normally you wouldn't expect yourself to leave so calmly after a hookup with someone who paid you to babysit a child, but you did so, no words mentioned to yourself.

when you turned around, miguel had been standing right behind you the whole time, like an eagle. you were frightened at this, yelping as you stepped backwards into the counter, back slamming into it.

"it's just me, y/n." his eyes blinked like a frog, so groggily yet you still stared into his dark brown circles.

"oh." you murmured, before rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly, and without another word he handed a small paper to you.

the paycheck, you thought. what was he even paying me for if he had done all those things with me last night?

you nodded respectfully, not peeping a word as you opened the door to exit his place. you took not even one step foot out of the door before he gripped on your shoulder — a little too tight.

"take it as an appreciation token for last night." he said blankly, not even a wink or a smirk or whatever a pair did after sex. you hesitated to even respond, but instead just nodded like you did before.

he shut the door before waving, a soft smile widening up on his face before the click of the door. you walked out, heading out to travel back to your place, opening up the check steadily.

he had paid you 2x more than your original pay.

a token of appreciation.

A/N :: yayyyy i was so excited to write this for my friends + basically the whole taglist. hope u enjoyed my miguel o'papi writing!!!

#atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x you #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miumiulicious

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kiwriteswords · 3 days

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hi! i love your hotch x shy!reader fics! and i was wondering if you could make an angsty fic about the reader n hotch like shy! reader made a mistake during a case and hotch is very protective over her? (like they get into an argument) and please a happy ending! thank you!

Hi!! Thank you!!! Thanks so much for requesting a short drabble! I hope this was what you were looking for!

Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 800

Rating: Everyone

TW: Canon-typical themes

The Weight of Mistakes

The air in the conference room felt stifling as the BAU team gathered around the table. They were mid-case, and things were tense, to say the least. The unsub was proving difficult to track, and time was slipping away. You had made a critical mistake — one that had cost the team precious hours. It had been a small oversight, but in a case like this, small mistakes were magnified tenfold.

You kept your eyes on the file in front of you, heart pounding, barely able to focus as Hotch gave his final instructions before sending the team out again. Your nerves were frayed, and you could feel the weight of his disappointment looming over you. Hotch was protective, fiercely so, but he was also firm when it came to the job.

As the meeting ended, you hurried out, hoping to avoid any confrontation. But you barely made it to the hallway before you heard his voice.

"Y/N, my office. Now."

You swallowed hard, nodding and following him. The walk to his office felt like an eternity, your stomach churning with anxiety. Once inside, Hotch closed the door softly, which somehow made it worse.

He stood by his desk, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "What happened today?"

Your voice was small, barely a whisper. "I—I didn't double-check the data, and I misread the location."

"That mistake nearly cost us a witness," Hotch said, his voice tight. "You know how important it is to be thorough."

The weight of his words felt like a punch to the gut. You nodded, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. You hated how small and insignificant you felt in moments like this. "I'm sorry," you murmured, barely able to meet his gaze. "I—I didn't mean to—"

"Y/N," Hotch interrupted, his tone softer now, but still firm. "You can't be this careless. Not in the field, not when lives are at stake."

You flinched, his words cutting deeper than you’d expected. You knew he was right, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Your insecurities swelled, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

"I’m sorry I’m not like the rest of you," you said, voice trembling. "I’m not as confident, or experienced, or… or perfect."

Hotch’s eyes softened, and he took a step toward you, his voice low. "Nobody's asking you to be perfect."

"But I keep messing up," you said, finally meeting his gaze. "And you... you’re always watching me, waiting for me to fail, and I hate it."

His brows furrowed, and for a moment, there was only silence between you. Then, unexpectedly, he stepped closer, closing the distance. "I’m not waiting for you to fail. I’m watching because I care. Because I know how much you push yourself."

You blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Hotch sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You’re harder on yourself than anyone else could ever be. And I see that. But today… today scared me. You could have been hurt."

It clicked then. The protectiveness in his tone, the frustration, the way he hovered when you were in the field — it wasn’t about your abilities. It was about him caring. A lot.

Your breath hitched. "I—I just don’t want to disappoint you."

Hotch's expression softened even more as he reached out, gently cupping your chin, lifting your gaze to his. "Y/N, you don’t disappoint me. Not ever. But you have to trust yourself. You’re part of this team for a reason."

You felt the tears welling up again, but this time, they weren’t from shame or guilt. They were from relief, from the overwhelming sense that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as inadequate as you thought.

Hotch’s thumb brushed your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. "You made a mistake. We all do. But it’s how you move forward that matters."

You nodded, the tension slowly unraveling from your chest. "I’ll do better," you whispered.

"I know you will," he said, his voice low, almost soothing. Then, after a beat, he added, "But I’m still going to watch over you. I can’t help it."

A small smile tugged at your lips, and for the first time that day, you felt lighter. "I think I can live with that."

Hotch’s lips quirked up in a rare smile of his own, and before you knew it, he pulled you into a hug. It was brief but comforting, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

As you pulled away, he looked down at you, his expression soft but serious. "Just… don’t ever think you have to be perfect. You’re enough, Y/N. Always have been."

Your heart swelled at his words, and for the first time in a long while, you believed them. With Hotch at your side, you knew you’d be okay — mistakes and all.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner drabbles #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaronhotchner #criminalminds #criminal minds #kiwriteswords

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koqabear · 1 year

Note

Hiii congrats on 2k sol obsessed with everything you write!!!!💓 Could I request revisiting emo boy? Like what their relationship is like after and dates and how sex is like? Maybe beomgyu’s band really blows up and he’s quite busy, how does oc respond to this? And with smut? Tysm!!💝

playlist // beomgyu's encore outfit hehe // cont. of hey emo boy!

“The day of your one-year anniversary with Beomgyu was expected to be spent away from each other— but not if either of you can help it, far too in love to let anything get in the way of you two.”

bassist!beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 6.6K (everyone stfu rn) // genre: band au, opposites attract trope, established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff tbh, MDNI.

warnings: they are in love and it’s fucking GROSS!! barely edited, the two have hella piercings hehe (bg: snake bites, tongue, eyebrow // mc: smiley & nipple piercings) pet names (sweet thing, pretty, etc.) use of the L word bc they are literally obsessed w/ each other.

smut warnings: hard dom! gyu, sub!mc, needy sex sorry 😖, marking, manhandling, dry humping, biting, breast play, possessiveness, unprotected sex, bg picks the mc up, scratching, dacryphilia, dumbification, a lot of kissing lol, degrading, slight praise, fingering, creampie, cum eating…? lmk if i should add anything !

Notes: happy (late) birthday to the fic that’s probably my peak… this story single handedly changed the course of my blog me thinks. thank you to everyone who was just as affected by emo gyu as i was.

Being in a committed relationship with Choi Beomgyu, bassist of Tomorrow x Together and an absolute unattainable heartthrob, was not very easy.

It was at first; with their blossoming career, it was more about the music than their looks. Fans were loyal simply because they liked their sound, their message, the way their concerts were filled with such energy and passion it left their hearts beating with adrenaline after— but of course, it’s hard to not notice the absolute eye candy on stage; low-lidded gazes, dark stage lights that barely highlighted their stunning features, and clothing that was just as alluring and flattering as the rest of them; inevitably, their popularity sky-rocketed, for better and for worse.

Beomgyu was left with more money than he knew what to do with. Most of the time, it was used to spoil you, his pretty girlfriend he brought with him everywhere because he was just too obsessed with you— it made his band members wonder if he simply had attachment issues by how much his world revolved around you. But no, you were just as bad as him; present during rehearsals, always in the studio to cheer them on or give them a second opinion on a new song; it wasn’t long before you ended up befriending the rest of them as well, a tight bond forming simply because of all the things you went through together.

As unfortunate as it was, they weren’t the only ones forced to bear with negative and hateful encounters from the public; while they had their experiences of being mistreated early in their career, you had to deal with immature or creepy fans that had taken a liking to harass you— inboxes on all social media platforms flooded constantly, your number even leaked once as you were forced to buy a new phone all together from how badly you were being spammed— Beomgyu had been quick to lash out and tell them to leave you alone if they didn’t want a lawsuit on their hands.

Overtime, they adjusted to their popularity. Schedules slowly became filled to the brim, their dream now a reality as they spent months on tour— and while you were more than happy and proud of them and their flourishing career, it’d be a lie to say it was all one happy and perfect life.

You hadn’t seen Beomgyu in ages— decades, centuries, eons— in other words, two weeks.

The band had more interviews and performances than you could keep up with; if they weren’t on some random talk show, they were at a photoshoot, getting interviewed for the next issue of a magazine you’d undoubtedly have on your coffee table the day it came out. Promotions, nights at the studio, it all added up— and before you knew it, your one year anniversary began to creep up, and all hopes to celebrate it properly dwindled down in your heart— but, having him here with you today was enough.

You didn’t blame Beomgyu; you weren’t angry or upset, because it was simply something neither of you could control. And though it did suck knowing you wouldn’t be able to spend such a meaningful day together, it felt a little better to know that you weren’t the only one hung up on it.

On the contrary— you think Beomgyu might be handling this worse than you.

“Baby, baby please,” he cries, refusing to let go of you and cuddling closer to you instead, a mess of tangled limbs and blankets as he cups your face fondly, “pleaaase I know you said I shouldn’t feel bad but please come on tour with us this week, I think I’ll seriously die if you’re not here this time.”

“Gyu, baby, I really shouldn’t—” you say quietly, only to get cut off by his excessive whining and teary eyes. His bottom lip is jutted out in a ridiculous pout, squeezing your cheeks and holding back a smile at the way your lips puff out as a result; you attempt to push him off you, only for him to retaliate by rolling entirely on top of you, a loud squeal escaping you at the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress, his stupid face hovering over yours as he continues to plead you quietly.

“Pleaaseee?” he whines, pressing his flat palms against your cheeks and getting your lips to puff out again; he ignores your half-hearted protests for him to get the fuck off, choosing to punctuate his every word with a kiss instead, his piercings a sharp contrast to his plump lips that crash against you with every word.

“Please?” kiss. “Won’t you,” kiss. “come with us?” another kiss.

“Please. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—”

He’s practically suffocating you at this point, refusing to pull away and mumbling the words against your lips, laughs breaking between the two of you as you yell at him to get off, that you can barely breathe with him on top of you; you’re pushing at his shoulders weakly as he continues to tease you, your unabashed laugh contagious as he quickly finds himself smiling as well— he only pulls away once he hears you yell a loud fuck, okay! Hovering over you with bright eyes and a wide grin.

His arms snake around your waist before he’s rolling over, successfully switching so that you’re the one on top of him— he ignores the loud and exaggerated sigh of relief you let out.

“It won’t make much of a difference though,” you say quietly, hiding in the crook of his neck as you confess your doubts, “You’ll be too busy and exhausted the whole day, I really don’t want me to be added to your list of concerns.”

You went on tour with him, once— but you learned it was better off to not be anywhere backstage with him during those times, the boy too concerned and constantly doting on you to remain focused; any mistakes he made hitting much harder, a subconscious pressure to be perfect and give his all only trifolded by your presence.

“What? No,” he says immediately, sitting back on his elbows and causing you to look up at him in response; his brows are furrowed and he seems a bit baffled by your comment, shaking his head adamantly to emphasize his point, “I like having you there. I know you like being there, I want you there— I wouldn’t be asking you to come with me if I thought you were a burden.”

He managed to pull out the exact words you were trying to skirt around— your face heats up at his reassurance, much too intimidated by the intensity of his gaze as you bury your face into his chest instead; his chest bounces from the laugh he lets out, flopping onto his back once more and hugging you close, bodies pressed flush against each other and one of his legs thrown around your waist in a childish attempt to pull you even closer.

“Plus, don’t you wanna visit Europe with me?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as he feels you nod shyly; he knows just how much you enjoy the travel aspect to his career, constantly asking for pictures or to facetime while he’s gone, “I wanna show you all my favorite spots this time, and not through some glitchy facetime— I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, shut up,” you groan, hitting his chest weakly as he simply laughs at you softly, “you’re so corny.”

“You love it,” he coos, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, biting back a smile at the way he can feel your breath even out— you remain silent. Partly because you’re falling asleep from his touch, and partly because he’s right.

⤬⤬⤬

Europe is breathtaking— you’ve never been so grateful for Beomgyu’s stubborn, persistent mind.

The tour has gone as perfect as always, spending a few days at their shows before you simply resigned to stay at the hotel instead; after seeing that Beomgyu was so distracted trying to look for you during a show that he missed his cue (and played the notes wrong to another song) you found it better to wait for him and see him after instead— ready to help him wind down and relax after another energetic, adrenaline-inducing show.

Most nights consisted of you practically carrying him to the bathtub; cooing soft reassurance as he whined about how tired and sore he felt, shampooing his hair, massaging his scalp and tense shoulders— most of the time, he’d fall asleep then and there, and it’d be another hassle to wake him up and get him out. You’d lure him out of the tub and wait for him to change into your matching pajamas— hello kitty ones, his idea, not yours— and greet him in the bed with a warm embrace and lips that peppered kisses all over his face.

It was during these moments you found humor in the contrast of his stage persona to his true self; from his usual attire, chokers and ripped clothes, wardrobe consisting of black and multiple piercings that decorated his ears and face, your thumb brushing over his newest eyebrow piercing fondly— versus the man that slept soundly in your arms now, long hair tied back and cute pink barrettes clipping back his bangs, donned in hot pink fuzzy pajamas— and you’re sure that if his band members saw him like this, they’d never stop teasing him.

You didn’t have to wait long to confirm that thought; Beomgyu didn’t bother changing as he met up with the others in Yeonjun’s room for breakfast the next morning, tugging you along and remaining unfazed at the way his band members burst out laughing the moment he entered the room— you felt a bit bad at the way you found yourself laughing as well, even more so because you’re the only reason he’s found himself dressed like this. (But again, he was the one who bought these clothes in the first place.)

“Happy anniversary, you two,” Yeonjun muses, smiling at the way you’re the only one who seems to process that, chirping out a cheery thank you! as you proceed to drag Beomgyu to the couch, “I feel bad that we have a concert today, ___. As vomit-inducing as it is seeing you two, you do deserve to spend the day together.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, brushing his teasing comment off and holding back a smile at the way Beomgyu is still struggling to gain consciousness, more tired than you thought as he simply stares at his waffles for a moment before finally digging in, “at least he’s spending the day doing something he loves.”

“Gross,” Hueningkai says, scrunching his nose playfully before laughing at the glare you send him, “you two are so mushy, it’s painful.”

The rest of the day leading up to the concert is spent peacefully; once Beomgyu has gained enough coherence to fight back against the member’s jabs, he’s pulling you away to show you new sights and stores he discovered from his previous visits, spoiling you beyond belief and buying anything you look at for a second too long; you end up with more bags than you know what to do with, and Beomgyu refuses to let you carry a single one as he proceeds to take you one of his go-to restaurants, as he told you; saying he’s been wanting to bring you here since the moment he found it, smiling brightly when he sees you enjoying the food as much as he did.

To say he’s reluctant to leave you to go to the concert venue is an understatement; you think he might start crying at any given moment as he stares at you with shining eyes, unable to let go of your hand as he stands by the door of the hotel room— not quite ready to leave yet, but knowing that he must eventually as he chooses to bring you in for another slow, loving kiss instead.

“Are you sure you’re not coming tonight?” he asks you, trying to hide the sadness in his voice and failing miserably.

“And make you fuck up your setlist? I don’t think so,” you try to joke, only to panic slightly at the way his eyes gloss over; your hand immediately jumps up to cup his face, laughing softly at his expression as he simply pouts at you ridiculously.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before you lean over to his ear, voice dropping to nothing but a whisper as you let your lips brush against his ear, “I’ll have a nice surprise for you tonight, so you better give your best show out there, okay?”

The low lilt of your voice is enough to have him perking up immediately; mouth parted slightly as he stares at you, unsure of what else to do but nod pathetically, knowing he won’t be able to control himself if he thinks about what you might have in store for too long.

With one last chaste kiss, he’s leaving— and only because Soobin was pounding at the door, telling him they’d be late if he didn’t go out this instant— you think he might start crying as he gives you one last pouty glance, waving to you sadly before he slips out the door.

You’re left alone, the room suddenly much lonelier and quieter than it was a few seconds ago— and you laugh, checking the time and running to your suitcase to get your makeup and outfit for tonight.

A revealing shirt, a mini-skirt that’s a bit alarmingly short— you’re pulling out a sparkling, pink outfit like it’s nothing, throwing it all on and doing your makeup as you check the time absentmindedly; your phone lights up while you’re in the middle of doing so, and a notification reads that the staff are waiting for you outside to take you to the venue once you’re ready.

Beomgyu loves performing knowing you’re in the audience more than anything; it’s something he’s made blatant to you, knowing that despite his mistakes, despite his small distractions, his energy always goes out the roof the moment he spots you there. So you knew how distraught Beomgyu would be to hear that you’re not going to the show tonight despite being able to, but the thought of surprising him is much more enticing than you’d like to admit.

With one last check of your appearance in the mirror, you grab a jacket before you go; Beomgyu’s favorite oversized zip-up, the clothing item a stark contrast to the rest of your feminine and bright attire— and you smile, adjusting the purse on your shoulder before you’re off to the hotel lobby, where the staff are waiting and ready to escort you safely.

The venue is almost full by the time you get there; you’re escorted straight to your barricade seats front and center, smiling shyly and waving at fans that seem to recognize you; your face feels hot and you walk faster at the way they get excited at the sight of you, not used to the fame that comes with being Beomgyu’s girlfriend— hell, you really don’t know how Beomgyu does it.

You’re more than relieved once the concert begins, any attention that still lingered on you immediately getting stolen by the boys that appeared on stage; you winced slightly at the loud screams all around you, unable to help the way you eventually joined in— morphing into another fan in the crowd, the venue much too dark for any of the boys to recognize you just yet.

They looked stunning in their concert outfits; the professional, matching and dark outfits tailored perfectly to each member, intricate with chains and rosaries and pretty layers. Your eyes widen as you watch Beomgyu walk to his position, taking note of his hair that has now been dyed back to black— you hadn’t realized how long it’d gotten until now, the layers framing his face and falling into his eyes as he goes to push back his bangs with a delicate hand.

There are no introductions tonight— the music begins immediately, loud and abrasive and making the crowd jump along excitedly, screaming the lyrics and reaching out to try and get one of the members to pay attention to them— on the contrary, you try to remain hidden, looking away and bowing your head every time Beomgyu’s gaze sweeps around your area.

God, you wish Beomgyu didn’t turn into such a ditz whenever he spotted you in the audience— because then you’d be able to enjoy more of their concerts, addicted to the borderline euphoric feeling you get from attending them, only for it to be multiplied as your eyes catch onto your boyfriend performing, your heart pounding against your chest at the sound of his voice ringing out into the venue— a surge of pride and love fills you as a grin spreads on your face, and it isn’t until you notice a member walking around that you’re able to look away from him.

Looking up, you make eye contact with Hueningkai.

His mischievous smile and raised brows are immediately returned with a violent shake of your head; telling him to not say anything to Beomgyu, rubbing your hands together pleadingly the moment he glances back at the said man— then he turns to you, sending you a playful wink before he’s off to another section, not without sending you one last teasing grin and a wave; you’re glancing at Beomgyu in a panic, unsure if he’s spotted you, only to be relieved at the sight of him too concentrated on playing to even look up at the crowd.

It isn’t until the encore that they’ve all begun to move around, (save for Taehyun and Soobin, bound to their instruments as they’re resigned to simply wave at the crowd when they can) changed into more comfortable outfits during a small intermission— Beomgyu is decked in baggy jeans and an equally baggy shirt, long hair messy and makeup smudged as he walks along the stage, smiling and waving at fans that reach out for him— he plays his bass so effortlessly as he does, truly mesmerizing as he stops a few times to interact with fans; the sight has your heart fluttering hopelessly.

But the closer he gets, the more you’re buzzing with nervous energy. Gripping onto the barricade tightly, having stood up long ago with the rest of the fans that are eager to get their attention. Beomgyu’s eyes scan through the crowd thoroughly, smiling cutely and returning hearts until he spots you.

He freezes entirely.

He’s no longer playing bass— he’s just standing there, in complete shock as he stares at you. You can only muster to give him a sheepish wave, an uncontrollable grin on your face as you laugh at his dumbfounded expression, trying to yell at him to go back to playing. But he doesn’t, and you’re jumping slightly at the way he takes off his bass and jumps off the stage, security frantically following behind as he rushes over to you.

His hands are on your face and he’s pulling you in for a kiss quicker than you can process; you hear the screams of the crowd around you, but Beomgyu’s got you in his hold so tightly that you’re unable to pull away, left to give in and melt against him as he kisses you for a little longer. Your face feels as though it’s on fire by the time he’s pulled away, his own alight entirely with joy as he grins at you, your head still in his hands as he leans against the barricade excitedly— you think he might just jump over it any moment now.

“You’re here?” he says exasperatedly, eyes scanning you frantically as though he were imagining you, “why didn’t you tell me, you should’ve— I would’ve—”

“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, placing your hands over his and laughing at the way he can only stutter stupidly, brushing his hair behind his ear fondly— watching the way his eyes crinkle cutely as he smiles, your own sweeping over the array of piercings that decorate him, hello kitty earrings glinting under the light— and pry his hands off your face, ignoring the pout he sends you as you scold him instead. “Get back on stage!”

Your words seem to snap him out of his reverie; his head is whipping back to look at the stage, at the way his friends can only laugh at him teasingly and yell at him to get back here— the way Yeonjun yells directly into the mic is slightly embarrassing, shrinking at the way all eyes are on you as the man’s words ring out the venue— Beomgyu, get the fuck back here!

He’s only able to leave with one last chaste kiss— the crowd is screaming at the sight, and you’re resisting the urge to cover your face in weak hopes that it could take all this attention off you— but you’ll bear it, especially with the way Beomgyu mouths a cute I love you! before he’s jumping back on stage.

The poor boy is unable to take his eyes off you for the rest of the night— but on the bright side, there are no missed cues or wrong notes played. He’s just entranced with you for the rest of the encore, his energy seemingly replenished with the way he jams out to the music; mouthing the lyrics even when it’s not his part, maintaining eye-contact with you during songs he knows you’re particularly fond of— and suddenly, the idea of spending his anniversary at a concert isn’t as depressing as it was earlier tonight— because now, he had you by his side.

⤬⤬⤬

“Beomgyu— Beomgyu please, not here…” you whine, unable to do much but bite your lip and swallow back whines that threaten to escape you, left to Beomgyu’s mercy as he immediately led you to his dressing room after the show— the said man is much too focused on kissing and marking your neck to listen, soft hair brushing against your face as he pulls you flush against him; back pressed against the wall, arched prettily from the way his hands snake around your waist and press your lower half against his— you’re holding back a groan at the way he’s already hopelessly hard against you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be coming? Hmmm? Just wanted to be a tease? Was this your little surprise?” he asks, biting at your skin and huffing out a laugh at the whine that escapes you; your hands are gripping onto his shirt tightly, fisting it in your hands and wrinkling the material as he lets his teeth sink slightly near your collarbones, “god, you look so good tonight, you’d really expect me to be able to hold myself back?”

His hands are wandering down your waist; over the swell of your ass, fiddling with the hem of your mini-skirt before he’s venturing under it— feeling the way you shiver against him the moment his hands squeeze at the soft flesh, fingers decorated with rings cold against your skin as he comes back up to kiss you. It’s rough and desperate, lip rings scratching as he kisses you with such hunger it leaves you breathless; he grinds his cock desperately against you, eliciting a small gasp from you and allowing him to slip his tongue inside— the piercing that decorates it scrapes along your mouth, unable to help the way your knees weaken at the feeling of him— his touch is everywhere, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded as you can only melt against him, allowing him to press you flush against the wall with his own body; your miniskirt is riding up along your hips as he situates himself between your legs, panties already a mess as he begins to rut his cock into you.

“Are you sure you want to wait now, pretty?” he asks, looking down at you with low-lidded and fucked out eyes— he punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, laughing at the way you yelp and tighten your hold on him, “I could stop everything right now, send you back to the hotel like this and make you wait, just like you said— is that what you want?”

Oh, he’s cruel— even more so because you’re left shaking your head no deliriously, your mind fogged with such need that your eyes are glossing over at the very thought of not having Beomgyu inside you right now; your voice is pathetic as you plead Beomgyu to finish what he started, throwing a hand over his shoulder and entangling your fingers into his hair as you pull him back into you— he’s more than eager to return the kiss, tilting his head and pressing himself more against you as a hand reaches down to your thigh; grabbing the back of your knee, guiding you to hook it around his waist as he begins to rut into you mindlessly.

“So cute, my pretty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, eyes trailing down your low-cut top to spot his favorite zip-up, a smile tugging at his lips as he merely sends you a cute smile, “did you miss me that much? Already so needy from a little bit of kissing— god, I love you so much…”

You think he’s mostly talking to himself at this point— spewing nothing but filth as his hands shove your shirt over your chest, grinning as he remains impatient enough to not take off a single item of clothing, choosing to push tug your bra down harshly before he’s swooping down to mark your breasts with a cruel smile.

“Looked so fucking hot out there, just made me wanna take you backstage and fuck you there,” he confesses, listening to the choked whine you let out, his pierced tongue playing with your hardened nipples, leaving them swollen and sensitive. He’s looking up at you with doe eyes that contrast greatly with the way he sticks his tongue out for you, letting you watch the way he circles and toys with the cute jewelry he bought for you earlier today, pulling away with a coy smile and leaving them soaked with his spit— he blows softly on them, watching with tentative eyes as you keen at the feeling.

“God, you know I’ve been wanting to do this every time I see you at one of our shows? To make sure that everyone that looks at you knows just who,” he rolls his hips into you, nice and slow and letting you feel the length of his cock press against you as you flutter your eyes shut from pleasure, “you’re here for?”

“Fuck, gyu,” you pant out, snaking your hands under his shirt and up his back, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him into you— as if there’s still space between the two of you, as if you’d die if you weren’t touching him at all times, “‘m only yours, only want you…”

He’s sneaking a hand down to move your panties to the side, the two of you much too desperate to shed off any layers— and as you listen to the clinking sounds of his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling out his hardened cock, you busy yourself by sucking and biting at his neck, listening to his stuttered breaths as you suck and tease at the joint of his neck, his most sensitive spot as you bite at it playfully— you’re only pulling away at the feeling of Beomgyu grabbing at you hair and tugging you away, letting out a baffled laugh at the satisfied look you give him in return.

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” you coo out softly, grinding your pussy slowly against Beomgyu’s tip that teases your entrance, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him mirroring the action, running along your folds and swiping at your clit, “all mine, my pretty boy…”

He laughs fondly against your lips at that— bringing you in for a slow kiss, feeling the way your mind goes blank the moment his tip slowing enters you; he’s swallowing a soft moan from you as he bottoms out slowly, keeping himself deep inside and grinding his hips slowly against yours— and he stays there, a tease like always as he watches your brows furrow and your lips pout, telling him softly to move, to do something.

“Mmmh, all yours,” he mumbles softly, pulling out slowly to let you feel the way every vein runs against your walls, clenching and fluttering against his length as he hisses at the feeling, “I’m yours, belong only to you, fuck…”

He’s not able to keep this agonizingly slow pace up for long— as much as he wants to tease you, to have you crying and pleading for him to fuck you stupid, he isn’t fairing that well himself— so it isn’t long before he’s beginning to snap his hips into you, cock curving and aiming for that spot that has your knees buckling, pretty nails digging into Beomgyu’s shoulders and biting at the skin in order to try to stabilize yourself.

“Such a perfect cunt— fuck, ah, just wanna fill you up, wanna see it dripping down those pretty thighs— stupid fucking skirt can’t hide anything, ugh—” his voice is deep and breathy as he continues to talk into your ear, his hands sliding down to the swell of your ass before he’s holding it there— lifting you up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist as you’re left to his mercy; his chest is pressed flush against yours as he fucks you, and you can only bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your sounds, the rough way you bounce from his thrusts causing your nails to slip and scratch down his back— he hisses at the feeling, only to be spurred by the stinging sensation it leaves behind.

“So loud, shit,” he laughs meanly, grinning at the way you only bury your face into him more to try and muffle your sounds, “want everyone to hear you? All the staff, the members— I’m sure they’d like to see what a pretty doll you are for me.”

You shake your head at that— but your body gives you away as your cunt clenches around him pathetically, the wet sounds of skin against skin filling the room and undoubtedly filtering outside— but you remain persistent to keep your moans to yourself, choking back on sounds of pleasure as Beomgyu only begins to fuck you rougher; your silence is a challenge, one he’ll gladly take as he begins to roll his hips into you just the way you like it.

“Come on pretty, I wanna hear you,” he purrs into your ear, a hand snaking around to rub at your clit while the other remains firm on your ass, “don’t you feel good? I can make you feel even better— so, so so good, just let me hear your cute little sounds.”

You’re playing hard to get. And Beomgyu takes absolute pleasure in it, watching the way you shake and dig your nails into him helplessly, your body being wound up from how good he fucks you; your thighs are sticky and shining from your arousal, poorly concealed pleasure only fueling Beomgyu’s ego further as he reaches up to tug your head out from it’s hiding spot.

He thinks he might just cum on the spot; your makeup is ruined, tears of mascara running down your cheeks as you merely let out soft hiccups of moans, your lips parted and brain completely empty as you stare at him— he smiles at you in return, capturing your lips in another kiss as his hand begins to trail down; toying with your breasts, nimble fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you jolt and whine into his mouth at the sensation.

“Gyu— gonna— need to, ah…!” the choked whimpers you let out aren’t enough for Beomgyu, and he only slows down at your request; fresh tears stream down your cheeks as you plead softly, breathy voice barely above a whisper as you whine quietly to keep going, don’t stop, please gyu, pleeaaase….

“Hmm? What’s that? I can’t hear you, baby,” he murmurs softly against your lips, slowing to nothing but a grind as he presses himself against you— pelvis grinding against your clit, the feeling making you tremble as you dig your nails into his shoulders once more. “Come on sweet thing, tell me what you need.”

You’re telling him— begging, pleading, breathy whimpers and soft cries escaping you as you roll your hips into him, biting your lip and sighing exasperatedly at the way he simply watches you with dark eyes, slowing down until he’s simply bottomed out inside you.

“What do you want?” he asks softly, breathy voice intertwined with a lilt so sweet you’d almost think he pities you— and by the way he’s looking at you, he just might, swollen lips caught between his teeth to try and suppress a smile. You’re still weak and quiet as you try to voice your wants, looking at him through wet lashes, a pout on your face as your hands run absentmindedly up and down his back.

“Wanna cum?” he coos, pretty hand reaching down to circle and pinch your clit teasingly, “Want me to fuck you? Fill you up? Hmmm?”

All you can do is nod along to his words stupidly— and obviously, it’s the very last thing your boyfriend wants, abandoning your clit and reaching up to grab your face roughly; fingers digging into your cheeks, forced to look at him as he merely glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth.

“Tell me,” he says, voice sharp and dangerous as he narrows his eyes, “use your words— or, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you dumb already.”

He’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist at that; you’re stumbling slightly, leg too weak to let you stand as you merely cry at him to wait, bringing him closer to you in fear that he might pull out and leave you like this— his fingers still dig into your cheeks as you speak, drool building up at the corners of your pouty lips as you stutter out exactly what you want— what he wants to hear.

“Want you to fuck me, use me— wanna cum, please,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he shakes your head teasingly, as though to say and what else? “Want you to cum inside, baby please, just wanna feel good—”

You’re rambling at this point. But Beomgyu enjoys it nonetheless, telling you to keep going as he begins to move again; slowly at first, allowing you to feel the drag of his thick cock against your walls as your words become stuttered through weak moans, the sight making your boyfriend laugh as he slowly begins to pick up his pace.

“Like it when I fuck you like this, yeah?” you’re nodding in confirmation to his words; staring at him with pleading eyes, whimpering a soft harder, faster, that the man is immediately obliging as he coos at the way you yelp at the sensation. “Want it harder? Hmmm? Want me to fuck you ‘till you can’t even walk—? Have to carry you out of here, let everyone see the way your sweet cunt is filled up by me?”

All you can do is nod to his words at this point; whimpering a weak yes, yesyesyes, want you to fill me up, use me, more more please—

Everything crashes down on you unexpectedly; your eyes are shutting tight and you think you might just black out as your orgasm hit you suddenly, cunt squeezing and fluttering around Beomgyu’s cock as he groans at the sensation— he lets you ride it out, cooing soft praise into your ear before he’s pulling you in for another kiss; you’re barely able to kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and letting him do whatever he wants with you.

It isn’t long before he’s cumming inside you as well; you’re so tight he can barely move, your cute whimpers and warm cunt guiding him through it as he fucks into you slowly, making sure none of his release slips out as he continues to fuck you, even after he’s become horribly sensitive. Then he’s still, lips still on yours and arms wrapped tightly around you as though he’s afraid to let you go.

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, still lingering close to you, taking in your appearance with tentative eyes. You nod softly, still attempting to catch your breath as you chest heaves against his; he huffs out a soft laugh, caressing your cheek fondly before he’s going to fix your clothes— your mini-skirt remains up on your hips, his cock still bottomed out inside you as he coos about how good you were for him, caressing any skin he can get his hands on (which is a lot, considering your wardrobe) with a smile.

“Pretty girl, so perfect,” he coos, finally pulling out and tucking himself in before he’s going to fix your clothing; not without slipping his fingers inside your cunt one last time, watching with hungry eyes as you curl into him and cry that you’re sensitive— he’s only satisfied after his cum is left snug in your pussy, smiling darkly at the way he brings his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean— you do it without any hesitation, and Beomgyu swears he might just be getting hard again.

“Love you so much, thank you for coming to see me today,” he says instead, bringing you in for a warm hug and a loving kiss; you merely hum tiredly in response, hands slipping out from his shirt only to be thrown over his shoulders leisurely.

Your face feels hot the moment he’s trying to get the two of you to leave back for the hotel— because your legs are absolutely not cooperating with you.

“Holy shit, I was joking about that whole fuck you till you can’t walk thing,” he laughs, only to get cut of by the way you hit him in response— he’s letting out an exaggerated whimper at that, rubbing his arm and telling you sorry, sorry baby, with a cute pout.

“Ugh, I don’t want anyone to see me like this, fuck,” you mourn, only for Beomgyu to pull you into his side firmly, sending you a smile that’s not as reassuring as you wish it was.

“I’m sure no one will notice,” he says simply, swinging the door open and immediately being met with Soobin passing by.

He slows down at the sight of you two, glancing at your appearances briefly before he keeps walking.

“Try to keep it down next time please,” he yells out, turning the corner and disappearing from your sight before you can retaliate. You feel slightly mortified by his words, but Beomgyu isn’t affected in the slightest as he leans over to murmur softly into your ear.

“Should we continue this at the hotel, pretty?”

You don’t answer his question. But he already knows the answer, sending you a giddy smile and intertwining his fingers with yours as he leads you to where the staff car is waiting for you two— and you hold back a smile of your own as you trail (limp, kinda) behind him. It’ll be a long night, but you couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your anniversary, no matter how unconventional it is.

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #beomgyu ff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot #beomgyu x reader #[2k event!]#[nsfw]#[revisiting stories]

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spockandawe · 1 year

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Double edit: actually, that's enough of that.

Edit: I was expecting maybe thirty notes tops. This is a surprise, and one that doesn't delight me. If I hear about any harassment stemming from this post, I'll be more pissed at the harasser than the person this is about.

God. Dammit.

I hate this, let's just out that out there! I'm unhappy that I'm talking about any of this, I'm unhappy there's an issue that's come up at the intersection of media preservation, respecting authors, and one of my favorite book series. And I'm unhappy that I've censored the names in the screenshots I'm about ti post! I'm not happy that I'm helping to slide consequences away from someone who thought this was an acceptable thing to do to a modern working author. But I'm even less happy this is something that happened in the first place, and I'm VERY unhappy the original post has been deleted without a whisper of accountability or apology.

And here's a partial screenshot of the IA page, which has since been removed. I get the excitement to share something you love with a new audience. This isn't the right way to go about it.

First, if Martha Wells' patreon is still in place, I encourage everyone in the strongest possible terms to go sign up for it. It'll charge you one dollar. I've been a member since probably 2018, and I mistakenly believed it was locked to new members (it's labeled 'Currently Closed To New Patrons') until I had reason to look it up last night, when I tripped across this reddit post from earlier this year.

Now. I was looking it up because of this sudden patreon message:

Even if the patreon goes away, I still recommend that people sign up. Explore the stories! They're very fun! Even though the patreon has been dormant for years, I've loved having that repository in place.

In fact, in the interest of full disclosure, what kept me from immediately reblogging last night is that I've felt the same archival urges! I bound a hard copy of these stories earlier this year, and let me quote my own words from that post:

I live in a state of perpetual low key stress over the impermanence of digital media and that goes extra for sites that aren’t designed to work well as archives. I hope, desperately, that someday Martha Wells publishes more raksura, maybe even including these stories! I will buy it immediately. No thoughts, wallet empty. I own all her other raksura books in literally three formats, fingers crossed that by printing this, I can actualize a formal official printing of these stories by the author 😂

So. Archiving, yes. But especially with a living, working author, I would never DREAM of posting a public free-for-all with IA and mediafire links. My most charitable interpretation is that OP thought it was fine since the stories were "free," even though the writeups acknowledge that access costs a dollar. Ao3 is also free. Reposting someone else's fic is still understood to be a dick move.

Last night i was left kind of stunned, and I was hoping to see some kind of response from op this morning taking responsibility, and was... disappointed to see that the post was just deleted. The IA listing was deleted too, and I hadn't actually looked up the mediafire post yet but I'm guessing it's also been nuked. Out of curiosity, I wanted to see if there was anything more in the comments, so I found a surviving reblog. And there was!

So I'm writing this post because I'm... frustrated. Taking down the files is a good step. Posting them publicly was a worse step, but hey. I still more than understand if Martha Wells still deletes her patreon. I don't understand what sending her files of her own stories is meant to accomplish, but whatever. Ascribing a profit-driven motive is driving me up a wall, though. She's financially stable. I read her email, and what i see is frustration that even though it only cost a dollar to access 62k of her work through her own chosen location, control of her writing is being forcibly removed from her. I'm sure that seeing copies sold by third parties wouldn't help, but I don't think that's the root issue.

This is a fandom-heavy website, I'm sure most of us have seen posts about not reposting art when you can share directly from the artist's blog. I've seen posts about stop copying your ao3 faves over to wattpad just because you like reading there better. At a fundamental level, I read the message from Martha Wells as a deep frustration at having no way to share her creative work without someone removing control of it from her hands. And I don't know if there's any way to really take back that damage.

#long post #the books of the raksura #archiving

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years

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In Your Defense

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: After being forced into marriage, you decided you would make the best of it, deciding whomever you'd wed could surely not be worse than your father. And upon learning your husband-to-be's erratic behavior is matched with a fierce sense of loyalty, you decide to be a dutiful wife and present yourself to him on your wedding night.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: Feminism left my body, brief mentions of abusive father, arranged/forced marriage, fem!reader, smut (4k+ smut?????? I-, honestly high key pwp, virgin!reader, first time awkwardness, fingering, vaginal penetration, praise kink), protective!daemon, fluff, TYPOS (im sorry), etc.

A/N: im treating myself by writing this because im going through it and this blonde demon is so hot Part 2 kinda "Tea time"

"What kind of man is he?" I asked. "The prince?" the king sighed, leaning back on his chair, "I'm afraid he is as insolent as the rumors say he is." I pick at my nails upon hearing this. "Still," he adds, "he is my brother. I trust him with my life." My eyes lift from my hands. King Viserys holds a sincere expression on his face. It does not falter as he continues, " and I like to think it is not due to my lack of better judgement."

I took in a deep breath before entering the chambers that is now mine and my husband's. I grip my sweaty hands together as I enter, chewing on my lower lip in agitation.

Prince Daemon turns to me from across the room; he was in the middle of changing out of his wedding attire. His eyes were fixed on me as he unbuttoned his coat.

I take in another breath and walk up to him, making him still his actions. I know his gaze does not leave me even though I could not look at him on my way over.

Now that I stood before him, I dare to look at his piercing, violet eyes.

The prince's face is dark, as the moonlight was the only source of light in the room. This was the second instance I was able to behold the slope of his nose and the curve of his lips, the first being mere minutes ago during our marriage ceremony.

He had left the very moment he pledged himself to me. I was meant to follow him right after, but my father pulled me aside and laid forth the longest sermon he has given me yet. He made sure to grip my arm one last time, ensuring the pain of it would not make me forget his words. I had never been more relieved to be released by him than in that moment.

I push the horrible image of my father away as I reach out to the prince's hands that were stuck on his chest. Before I could touch him though, both his hands grab my wrists. I do a good job of masking my gasp after years of practice, but I cannot withhold the widening of my eyes.

He chastises me in a language I do not recognize, stepping forward once. He tilts his head in some sort of expectation. I open my mouth, "I apologize, my prince, but I do not understand."

What he says next makes goosebumps form all over my skin, "I said you do not have to offer your virginity to me tonight."

I am unable to speak or even release a sound, though my jaw is hung low.

The prince enjoys this. His lips pull up into a soft smirk. My skin burns when his fingers brush against it, as he tucks away locks of hair behind my ear, "that is, unless my pretty bride is not a virgin."

I stutter, absolutely horrified, "y-your grace, how could you think so lowly of me?"

He chuckles, the sound of it makes my stomach roll, "I do not." His hand travels down my neck where the pad of his thumb then rubs at my skin. I feel a lump form at my throat though he does not even press against me, "how funny that I'm somehow saddened by the fact no one has touched you tenderly before."

I bring my hand to his, after a shudder comes out of my mouth involuntarily.

"You are not much older that my niece," he mumbles, pulling his hand away, which in turn makes me drop mine to the side in some form of defeat. I expect him to walk away, but then he runs the back of his hand down my arm. I bite the inside of my lip harshly because of it.

I take a moment to regain my coherence; he seems acutely aware that I do. "I believe I am, indeed, three years Princess Rhaenyra's senior," I manage to choke out.

He hums, "when I was your age, I already had every woman I wanted bent over by my knee." Without warning, he takes my cheeks in both hands, causing a squeak to come out of my lips, "my princess," he says, "if you sleep with me tonight, tomorrow you may well be carrying my seed and unable to walk for it."

My pulse quickens. Daemon feels it beneath his thumb.

My lips quiver, "will it truly be that painful, my lord?"

I see his expression soften, "it may," his thumb ghosts over my lips, "but it would be the consequence of the pleasure I would give you."

I grip my hands and bite my lip in thought.

Daemon takes one more step forward.

My hands move over to his waist where they then begin to tug at his top nervously. I heave arduously, "take me then, husband."

He hums lifting my head up to look at me more intently. His thumb brushes my skin, "and is this yours or your father's desire?"

I feel disgust rise up my throat at the mention. "Does it matter?" I squeak, only realizing I spoke it out loud when he pulls away and says, "it matters to me."

When Prince Daemon begins to walk away, my heart clenches, uncertain of what to do next. I feel like a helpless mouse that was spared by a cat, or more accurately, a woman spared by a dragon and was now reeling at the unanticipated form of mercy.

"It's mine," I blurt out decisively, "I fucking hate my father,"

He stills in his tracks because of this and turns over to me from his shoulder.

"He is a cruel monster and I am glad I do not have to bend to his will any longer."

The man with silver hair chuckles as he continues making his way to the large bed, "and you believe me to be better than your father?"

We exchange looks the moment he is sat down at the end of the bed.

I pick at my nails and nibble my lip, watching the prince as he watches me, "I admit I was concerned of what your demeanor might be after learning you were called The Rogue Prince," I turn to my hands and dart my tongue out before continuing, "but I was comforted by sentiment the king had for his brother."

Daemon chuckles louder at this, crossing his arms, "and what did the king say about his brother, pray tell?"

"That he trusts him with his life," I turn back to him, "and that it is not due to his lack of better judgement."

"And you are choosing to trust this stranger you have been wed to based on this premise?"

Unable to bear the weight of his stare, I turn to the floor when I reply, "I am."

He shifts upon hearing this and speaks again in foreign tongue. I turn to him and take in his expectant look. When he does not do or say anything else, I figure he probably asked me to come over. I do just that then, releasing a breath as I take the first few steps towards him.

Once I am in front of him, his hands immediately go to my waist and he pulls me onto his lap.

I bite my lower lip so hard that I taste iron.

I am sitting on one side of his lap. He pulls my thighs close to him, securing an arm behind me. His hand brushes against my cheeks and my whole burns in anticipation at this point.

The prince places a kiss on my lips; he is eager and hungry. I instantly reach my hands out to his torso, fingers digging into his clothes. He squeezes my side, which makes me whimper. He takes it as an opportunity to deepen our exchange.

The next thing I know, he pulls away and shifts me around so that my back is pressed against his chest and his head is nestled on the crook of my neck. My toes curl at the feeling of his hot breath. He chuckles when my skin pricks yet again with goosebumps.

He does nothing but kiss me for a moment. I slowly begin to melt against him, but then his hands began to pull my skirt up. I barely manage to jolt and squeal when he claws halfway up my thighs. He shushes me, holding me down as I squirm against him. I heave heavily, completely contrasting his calm demeanor as he speaks, "it will not hurt."

My husband proceeds to nibble on my neck and I bring my hands to my mouth when I am unable to contain my moan. He chuckles, teeth grazing at me a bit harder, "you will enjoy my fingers better than my mouth in this instance."

My heart is pounding in my chest. I will my breathing to even out as I bring my hands back down to my skirt, right where the prince had his underneath. He continues to work on my neck, though his palms remain stagnant, only moving to massage my thighs slowly.

After a moment passes, I breathily urge, unsure if I was more scared of the fact he was growing restless or that I was, "continue, husband."

"As you wish, pretty wife."

His grip on my thighs tightens before they move again. I grip on the fabric beneath my fingers when I feel his thick ones rub against my heat. When I push my thighs close, he firmly digs on my flesh to bring them open, hushing me yet again.

I cannot even think to be embarrassed by the sound that rips out of my throat when his fingers enter and exit me in such a maddeningly slow pace.

He curses against my shoulder before he mutters again in the language I do not speak.

He continues these actions, I think to soothe me, and yet it elicits the opposite response. I continue to wiggle atop him, absolutely unable to contain myself. He is so desperate to keep me in place, he pulls a hand away and snakes his arm around me. My back arches against him as his actions quicken. My hands rise up to his head where they then claw at whatever I could touch.

I do feel embarrassment burn on my cheeks when suddenly, he pulls away and pushes me back on my feet. It cause of how he stood before me, tilted his head down on my smaller form, and licked his wet fingers.

The action was so obscene that my mouth opens, yet not a sound comes out.

I was still gripping my skirt when he spun me around began to unlace my dress. I feel the hair on my neck raise as his fingers tugged on my clothes.

Daemon must have felt my tension because he suddenly says, "you will enjoy this better if you relax."

"I- I'm trying."

He chuckles.

A shiver runs down my spine when he tugs my dress down and it drops to the floor. I cannot help but wrap my arms around me as he leads me out of it and spins me back to face him. He looks like he took no offence in my actions though, and even grants me the mercy of undressing himself.

When his shirt leaves him, I turn away, finding the ceiling so very interesting. I see him kick his pants off from my peripheral view. Right after, he takes my chin in his fingers and pulls my face to him.

My eyes land on his violet ones. I flinch when his hot hand finds the cool, bare skin on the side of my belly. His eyes flick down for a moment, "there is no shame in your beauty."

I release a sigh when he connects his lips to mine.

His hands find their way to my spine. I am slowly being pushed back. Before I fall, I bring my cold, clammy hands to his burning hot skin. He hisses because of this, and I pull my hands away in response. This is why my body crashes onto the bed prematurely. When he pulls away to reposition me, I squeak, "apologies, my prince."

As much as I wanted to examine his reaction to my words, I screw my eyes shut when I finally catch a glimpse of his naked form. My cold hands slap on both sides of my face.

He chuckles again as he pulls me up until my head is rested on the pillows by the headboard, "am I so grotesque to the eyes of a beauty?"

I open my mouth, hands ripping away from my eyes, though they remained closed, "No- I-" but my words end up as yet another squeak when Daemon grabs my legs and fold them up to my chest.

I slam my hands onto the bed, unable to do anything else as the prince continues to bubble out in chuckles as he maneuvers over me. One of his hands remain on my things, rubbing the area with much care, the other goes up to my chest and kneads on my exposed breast. I am anything but silent when I feel his manhood press against me on top of all this.

I feel his hand sink on the cushion beside my head. He presses a kiss on both my eyelids, "look at me, wife."

I slowly peel my eyes open and feel the vein on my neck tighten when he begins to rub himself against me. My hands claw up on his back. He again reacts with discomfort.

"I-"

He grabs my hand before I could pull away from him, my newly released leg dips because of this. "I will warm you soon enough," he says, pressing my cold hands back on his skin, "you can grip me as hard and as roughly as you like."

I do not reply for his lips press against mine.

In that very instant then, he lifts his hips and sheathes himself in me. I let out an unholy sound and my limbs constrict around him out of instinct. He himself draws out a prolonged groan, as I let out multiple high pitched whimpers and curses.

"So ready for me, wife," he moans, kissing my cheek, "such a good girl."

Again, I do not speak when he begins to rock into me back and forth. Only indistinguishable words leave my lips.

Daemon absolutely revels in the feeling, mind dizzy with the immaculate sounds echoing across the room. His body weight is delicious against mine, and whatever fear I may have had of being crushed is overpowered by a desire to crumble underneath him.

I find myself whining out his name at this point.

"That's right," he grunts, "let them know who's fucking you good."

I react to his obscenities by spreading my legs further. In that instant, I whine even louder as his newfound position hits an overly sensitive nub in me. My legs consequently tighten around him, entirely unwilling to let him go. Whatever concern I had about his hisses no longer phase me, even when I dig my nails into his back. It was all I could do as he pounded into me, relish the texture of his scarred skin and groan lewdly.

He speaks again in his foreign language, but I feel in my gut that he was singing me praises... but then again perhaps that was just his large co-

I start to scream when his pace quickens and his hand begins to rub on my aching core. My body arches against him, tears begin to build in the corner of my screwed eyes.

I pull even him closer to me with my desperate arms, mouth wide open as it finds the skin of his shoulder. My teeth instinctively bite down and lap at the salty surface. I graze my teeth up to his neck and it's there that I repeatedly call his name, over and over and over again, practically praying to him.

"I'm here," he hushes, both hands moving down to my thighs. I groan as he digs his fingers in and coos, "you're doing so good for me. So good."

I open my eyes upon hearing the praise. In that moment, as my voice hitches up and down at his ministrations, I move my face to look at him. Daemon presses his forehead on mine as we both breathe hotly against each other.

I succumb to this unknown desire to bite at his lip. The sound Daemon makes because of it makes my belly swirl up even more in its unreadable anticipation.

Curses leave his lips as his actions become more rugged, much quicker, and more wanton. I pull away from him, absolutely weak under his brute force.

The action coaxes out his name from my throat. He mutters mine against my ear and asks me to let go. He does so in such a sweet yet commanding way that even if I didn't want to, I would. I repeat his name a couple more times as I chase this high that is building and building, up until fire bursts all around me. All my tension explodes and I'm absolutely limp and boneless.

I'm basically just screaming like I'm mad at this point.

Daemon is roughly heaving atop of me, actions not ceasing just yet.

All at once, I feel him release a hotness inside of me. It makes me cry out yet again, only this time, I finally am aware of how helpless I sound.

"Good girl," Daemon mutters, movements growing sloppy though still not yet stopping. He peppers kisses on my neck as I quake and quiver. He repeats the praise the same way I am absentmindedly repeating his name.

When he finally relents, I regain some semblance of strength in my limbs and I begin to tighten my hold around him again, once more unwilling to let him go.

The chuckle that vibrates from his chest makes me whine and shiver. He revels in the sound, though he is halfheartedly apologetic because of how sharply I react.

At this point, his entire weight is now relaxed upon mine. I enjoy the heaviness and fullness of him. I snuggle my head against his, fingers digging into the roots of his hair. He remains atop me unmoving, content in our joint position.

My heavy eyelids rip open when he moves off me. I begin to wonder if he moves away because he did not like what I was doing. He stands for a moment then pulls at the blanket beneath me, bringing it over my body. It makes embarrassment shoot up around me. I tense when he climbs up next to me.

It seems he senses this as he rolls to his side, "are you not satisfied?"

I press my lips together, hands coming up to neck, legs pressing close against each other, "no, my prince, I- n- I mean- I enjoyed-"

His chuckle cuts me off. My breath hitches when he kisses my shoulder. I turn to him as he rolls on his chest, his hand lazily makes his way to my belly, "you'll learn to be more confident in your skin soon enough, darling."

As quickly as my heart soars at his sweet words, I feel so stupid when he draws his arm back and shifts to face to other way.

It's all so overwhelmingly confusing and heart shattering to me. I cannot help that suddenly tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I press my hands to my mouth, fighting back any cries from being heard.

Alternatively, Daemon suddenly remembers that not everyone wants to keep to themselves after a fuck. And so he turns over and speaks, "you can touch me if you-" but falters right after. His brows knit when he sees me roll over abruptly. The urgency of my movement was what gave me away.

Fuck.

"Have I upset you?"

I pull my hands away, cursing my very existence when my voice breaks out with a shaky, "no."

Daemon shifts, lying on his back with wide eyes, trying to recount just how he managed to fuck up so quickly when moments ago he was receiving such high praises.

"Do you not want to touch me?" I quietly mutter.

I feel so pathetic after asking it when I receive no response.

I am shocked when I do hear a retort, "I did not think you wanted to."

I quickly turn to him, absolutely desperate, "I want to!"

Daemon's chest tightens when he sees what he does.

He rolls to his side again and brings his hands to my face, wiping my tears with his thumb. He then pulls me into his chest, arm going around me, "don't cry, sweet girl." He presses a kiss on my head, "this will not happen again."

"It better fucking not," I whine helplessly, my own arms going around him. Daemon is as surprised as I am with my words, but I decide not to apologize for them when he presses another kiss on me.

The next day, when my eyes flutter open, I take in the sound of breathing and a heart beat against my ear. It seems I shifted in my sleep as now my head was rested by the crook of my husband's neck, chest pressed against his. His arm was around my shoulder.

I lift my eyes and take in his features, only now allowing myself to admit that he was stunning. He was stunning and mine, my husband. My hands reach up to retrace his jaw and nose. My face begins to heat up as I the image of him last night plays in my head.

I chuckle to myself but then I bite my lower lip quickly, as not to wake the sleeping being with my noise.

My hands find their way to his chest where I then begin to draw delicate lines that form nothing. I rip my hand away when I suddenly hear a slamming at the door. I begin to panic and pull the sheets up around me as I hear a voice I could vaguely recognize call out to me and Daemon.

I am completely frazzled, absolutely unsure of what to do.

I look between the door and Daemon, deciding I should not risk letting anyone see us naked. I sit up quickly and call out hesitantly, unwilling to wake my husband with my voice, "just a moment."

There is another bang on the door, and so next time I speak, it is not as timid and much more annoyed, "just a moment!"

I sigh, deciding to get out of bed. I do not manage to however, as suddenly, a hand is on my arm, holding me back. Daemon's eyes barely blink open, and yet his voice is loud and angry as he yells, "Fuck off!"

I flinch at the intensity of his voice that continues to warn, "come back in a hour, unless you want to lose your head."

In that instant, I give him a nervous expression. He pulls his hand away to rub his fingers on his eyelids and groan. When he finds my gaze again, he moves to caress my skin with the back of his hand.

I lick my lips nervously, "good morning, husband."

He smiles, "good morning, wife."

I clear my throat, "that was my handmaiden," I trail off, "she was probably tasked by my father-"

"Do you want me to kill him?"

My mouth remains parted.

Daemon grunts, shifting to lift his head up slightly, "you said the fucker was a cruel monster," he glides his hand up and down on my back, but quicker this time, "you are mine now; you have no use of him. Say the word and I will make him food for Caraxes."

"I..." I turn away, "I do not want his blood to dirty your hands."

Daemon smiles. He breaks into a laugh as he sits up. I look back at him after he presses a kiss on my shoulder, "I would gladly bloody my hands for you."

I turn to my hands, feeling my cheeks heat up at his words. I pick at my nails and remember his words from last night, "... am I with child now?"

He laughs, so loudly that I turn to him in shock. He pulls me against him, muttering words in a language I still don't understand. His hands travel down my sides, "we can try again in case you aren't."

#daemon targaryen #daemon fanfic #daemon smut #daemon fluff #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd fanfic #daemon x you #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x you #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut

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citricacidprince · 4 days

Note

...Mable stuck with bill timestuck, you say? I wonder if that would go better or worse than dipper being alone with bill.

Here to mention that I somehow only noticed your signature when it was next to fiddleford, and thought you were (rightly) calling him a prince. It took an embarrassingly long time for me to connect the dots.

Haha you’re not the first person to mistake my signature for actual writing so dw you’re good lol!

And as for my thoughts of Mabel and Bill in a Timestuck AU,,,

I may or may not have written a drabble in a mutuals DMs a few years back about a confrontation between Mabel and Bill and the aftermath of it! I also may or may not have just fixed it up and straight up doubled the word count haha-

Since I’m feeling a tad bit brave I’m gonna post the drabble under the cut for anyone to read along with two doodles I’ve done for it, I only ask that yall be nice to me since I don’t write very often and know I ain’t that good at it hehe-

Also I’m not lying this is like,,, 4707 words… I got possessed to write this haha

Before I begin!!! Important!!!

Trigger Warnings: Choking/Asphyxiation, harm to children, minor descriptions of small cuts and minuscule amounts of blood, verbal planning of commiting a murder/killing

(if I missed any please tell me!)

With that out of the way here's my stupidly long Timestuck AU drabble that's been on my back burner for years! The only thing you really need to know is that the twins time-traveled back after Weirdmagenddon of their own volition. Dipper is with Stan and Mabel is with Ford and Fiddleford. Mabel has been staying with the two for almost a month now and Fiddleford is the only one who knows she's a time traveler.

With the stage set, please enjoy!

💫—————————————🚩

It’s late into the night, Mabel is tossing and turning and can't go to sleep. Her mind is spiraling as she overthinks and worries about Bill, her brother, her Grunkles, everything. So at about 1AM she decides that she’s not going to bed anytime soon and gets up off the living room couch which she has called her new bed while staying with her younger Grunkle Ford and Fiddleford.

Despite it being the dead of night Mabel thought it’d be a good idea to just make something food related in hopes it would tire her out. Also, she figured it would be a fun idea since she knows Stanford is most likely still awake and probably hasn’t eaten in a while. She could make him something easy and sweet, like a batch of cookies, and give them to him as a gift! Who doesn’t like 1AM cookies?! If she doesn’t have the stuff to make that, eh, she’ll figure it out and make something else!

A bonus to this is that if Ford says he’s not hungry, a bold faced lie, she’d use her sweetest and biggest puppy eyes until he ate some. Maybe she could even convince him to go to bed and not stay up till 4AM!

The brunette starts making a batch of cookies in the cover of night, making sure to have plenty enough for Fidd's in the morning, and putting her entire heart and all her worries into the mix in hopes the oven would ease away the stress weighing down her mind.

Sure it took a while, but it would totally be worth it to see her young Grunkle's face light up in shock at the sight of a warm batch of cookies shoved into his face and getting crumbs on his nerdy notes!

Right as she was finishing up wrapping up three separate plates worth of cookies in a napkin with a pretty little bow, for the ✨aesthetic✨ she happily told herself, she hears a pair of heavy boots walk into the kitchen.

The voice of her, now young, Grunkle Ford calls out her name in the quiet kitchen. Just as she had expected, he was awake.

Before the excited brunette could whirl around and surprise Ford with the 1-2 AM batch of cookies she lovingly went and made by hand, his low voice rumbled out, “Could you grab me a mug? One from the cabinet.”

He sounded a little funny, like he just woke up. Mabel smiled as she could already picture Stanford’s bleary and tired face as he goes to make a cup of coffee with the mug he’s asking for. She lets out a small sound of exertion as she pushes herself onto the counter since she’s too short to reach the cabinets otherwise and gingerly opens the cabinet so it doesn’t squeak and pulls out a mug. Based on the small cracks and worn paint on the ceramic it seemed a tad old, the faded words of ‘Backupsmore 1973’ barely legible.

Just as Mabel turns around, about to lightly scold her young Great Uncle for drinking coffee at 2 AM instead of getting some rest, a large hand wraps around her little neck. She didn’t even have a chance to scream as she’s suddenly slammed into the now closed cabinet, the air knocked out of her lungs and her head spinning from the impact, a loud sound of ceramic shattering on the wooden floor echoing through the kitchen and Mabel’s ringing ears

A fearful confusion consumes her mind as she, unsure of what’s happening in her dazed state until she catches a glimpse of Stanford. Gone were the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to, in their place were the sickly yellow slit eyes of a monster she knew all to well.

Bill Cipher.

“Shooting Star, there you are! I think you're getting a tad too comfortable around here! Let's fix that!"

Malice built in her throat as she spat out, her brows furrowed and her brown eyes glaring down his yellow ones, “Bill! You-”

“Ah, so you do know me! I assumed so, but wasn’t quite sure!”

The six fingered hand around her neck pressed a tad harder against the wooden cabinet behind her, making her wince from the pressure.

“Here’s the deal, Shooting Star, you’re being a massive thorn in my side.”

Her back was already aching from the impact of her getting slammed against the cabinet.

“Making Sixer second guess his trust in me with your insufferable kindness and child-like whimsy.”

Her sock-covered feet were slipping and sliding on the wooden countertop, legs uncontrollably trembling as her fingers gripped at Stanford’s large forearm in hopes of steadying herself.

“It was amusing at first but now it’s just annoying. So I need you,”

His hand tightened even more, making Mabel let out a sharp hiss of pain.

“Out of the picture.”

Mabel’s feet no longer are touching the countertop as Bill suddenly pulls her away from the cabinet, easily dangling her little body in the air and effectively hanging her. Panic instantly shoots through her and tears well up in her eyes as her airway is suddenly completely cut off, her little hands grabbing and clawing at her possessed great uncle’s forearm while her legs wildly kick at the air, too short to even graze against Bill’s chest.

Bill’s free hand raises up and idly taps his chin, as his musing over something indecisively, an wide and uncanny grin stretched across the possessed scientist’s face as he loudly questions, “Hmmm… how about… throwing you in the lake! If the water doesn’t kill you the cold air will!”

Mabel started to thrash around even harder, her heart pounding in her chest as fear coursed through every nerve in her body, her flight response in full gear as she tried over and over again to get out of Bill’s grip with no avail.

“Oooh! Or I could just tie you up and bury you in the snow! I hear frostbite is real killer these days!”

Blood was rushing to her ears; she could barely hear a word he was saying. All she could focus on was the panic bubbling in her chest and adrenaline pumping in her veins, screaming at her that she didn’t want to die.

It didn’t take long before her vision began to blur, her clawing hands and kicking feet getting more and more numb and slow with each passing seconds. She could faintly hear Bill say something about ‘throwing’, ‘roof’, and ‘classic!’ before she could feel herself almost completely clock out, vision fluttering in and out as her hand weakly claws at his arm one last time.

Just as she was about to give up completely, the polydactyl hand around her neck suddenly let go, sending Mabel unceremoniously crashing to the floor. She let in a large gasp of air, coughing her lungs out as air desperately tried to fill them once more. The brunette doesn’t even care about the small shards of broken ceramic cutting into her hands or shins, she was trying to make sure she didn’t accidentally start hyperventilating as drool and tears drip from her face to the floor with every sharp breath.

Mabel, disoriented and dazed, manages to glance up through strands of her long and curly brunette hair to see Ford still standing there with those disgusting yellow eyes, which were now staring off to space with annoyance clearly visible in his gaze.

"Geez Sixer, you chose the worst time to want your body back to 'test a new theory' huh?" He quietly mumbles under his breath, looking upset that his fun was being rudely ripped away from him.

Suddenly he stares down at Mabel, who was clutching her throat and panting heavily, brown eyes unable to stop crying. Despite this, despite all the pain and numbness that ran through her, she still found it in her to glare at the dream demon with as much animosity as she could muster while surrounded by ceramic shards and small prickles of blood.

"Well… we’ll just have to pick this up another time, won't we Shooting Star?"

The possessed body of Stanford Pines strolls towards the archway leading out of the kitchen, however before he leaves completely, he stops and whirls around with that same twisted smile Mabel vividly remembers seeing on her possessed brother’s face just a few months ago. "Oh, Shooting Star? Would you be a doll and clean up this mess? Wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt now, would we?"

And with one final cackle he left, making his way back downstairs to Stanford’s study, presumably to make it appear like he never left in the eyes of the oblivious scientist, leaving the little brunet alone on the floor to lightly grip her neck, wincing at the bruise that's bound to appear the next day.

She stayed there silently for what felt like hours but was only just a couple minutes, the adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly but surely fading away as the feeling finally came back to her numb fingers and toes, relieved that she isn’t hyperventilating anymore and she can actually breathe.

She eased herself off the cold wooden floor, her little body trembling the entire time.

Despite the feeling of spite coursing through her veins for that awful dream demon, he was right…, she really didn’t want anyone to get hurt… So instead of immediately going to fix herself up she spent the next 10 minutes sweeping up the broken mug and getting all the broken shards of ceramic into the trash.

Curse her and her big heart…!

When she was done it was about 2 AM, and it was now officially time to check the damage.

Before she left the kitchen she made sure to put the plates of cookies into the fridge.

She didn’t really feel hungry anymore.

With a couple of winces and hisses of pain she managed to tip toe herself up the stairs and to the bathroom, making sure she didn’t accidentally wake up Fiddleford by stepping on a loose plank or opening the door too loud. Once inside she gingerly pulls out the old timey medkit from under the sink and sits on the floor.

Well, technically the medkit was modern since it was the 80s…

Wah, Mabel! Not the time!

With a deep breath she gingerly treats the tiny cuts gracing her hands and shins, trying not to cry as she disinfects each cut just like Grunkle Ford taught her to at the end of the summer of plucked out mini pieces of ceramic embedded in her skin with a pair of tweezer like how her Grunkle Stan had taught her at the beginning of the summer (note from her past self, splinters are never fun).

Cleaning and applying band-aids to the cuts was the easy part, most of the bandages would be hidden under her sweater and the winter pants Fiddleford had gifted her during her first couple days staying at the shack.

It was her neck that was going to be hard to hide.

Mabel stood up and got on a step stool to look into the minor, immediately wincing at the sight of her bare neck, dark purple was already creeping in and bruising every bit of her neck. The brunette leaned closer to get a better look and almost whispered out one of the many swears she had accidentally learned from Stanford while living here.

There was a hand bruised into her neck, and it encompassed her entire neck.

She gingerly touched her neck and winced at the dull pain. Guess she wasn’t going to take off her sweater for about 2 weeks now… just 1 week if she was lucky enough…

She tentatively took a step outside of the bathroom and tiptoed down the hallway again, trying to not make a single sound. Just when she got to the steps she heard a door open behind her, causing her to instantly crouch down and hope that she was far enough down the stairs that her body was hidden from sight.

She dared herself to peek just above the top step to see Fiddleford standing outside of his room, stretching and yawning before closing his door and walking towards the bathroom Mabel just left, making the 13-year-old let out a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to see her like this.

She knew she should probably tell Fiddleford what happened, but she just couldn’t. Maybe it was that childish fear of getting in trouble over nothing getting to her, or maybe it was the fear that her young Grunkle would be blamed for what Bill did.

Regardless, despite her better judgment, she kept her mouth shut and decided to hide her bruises from everyone else in the house, silently thinking of a way she could somehow protect herself from Bill.

She could practically hear Dipper yelling at her about how bad of an idea this was, but she was too shaken up to think of anything else…

So, she kept with the plan even as she shakily slipped a sweater over her large t-shirt she wore as a night gown and fell asleep on the couch, huddled in the corner in a ball as vivid nightmares haunted her fitful sleep, showing flashes of a possessed Stanford Pines throwing her off either the house or a water tower.

She woke up the next day to the warm smell of breakfast and the soft tones of Fidd's humming a tune in the kitchen, her body absolutely aching and a tad sweaty from the combo of the sweater and the fireplace keeping the room warm.

Mabel winced as she got off the couch. Yep… her back is definitely bruised.

She tentatively walked towards the open archway leading into the kitchen, silently calming her nerves and trying to put a smile onto her face. It helped that Fiddleford is making breakfast, she loves his food.

The kicthen was so empty when she first arrived but the southern man immediately starting keeping the place stocked when it was clear that she was going to stay there for a while. He also insistent on making her a meal 3 times a day since she was a ‘growin’ lil’ girl’. Because of her memories of Fiddleford being ‘Old Man McGucket’ were much more prominent in her brain it was easy to forget that he was once a father, but in those domestic moments when he doted and fussed over her it was clear that he was a good one.

Well, when he was sane that is…

She quickly shook off the bleak memory.

Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

She let out a low breath as a wide smile covered her face, her round cheeks rosy as she happily skipped inside.

Fiddleford perked up at the sound of Mabel walking inside, smiling as immediately spoke with a fond voice, "Ey there sweetpea, sleep well?" He idly glanced behind to see Mabel in her baggy t-shirt/sleep gown as well as a sweater on top of that, making him raise an eyebrow as he playfully asks, "Did someone get' cold last night?"

"Just a little bit." Mabel playfully replied back, unable to stop the wince that crossed her face at the sound of her hoarse voice.

Fiddleford, who was already done making breakfast, immediately whipped his head around at the sound. "Honeybee, are ya' alright?"

She lightly coughs into her fist a couple times and passingly remarks, “I’m fine, it's just morning gunk! Just need some water, haha!” Trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Fiddleford still had a suspicious look in his eye as he looked over the little lady before deciding to let her off easy with this one, grabbing a rag and wiping his hands while replying with a quiet, “Alright, if ya say so, sunshine…”

He quickly pours Mabel a glass of water and then grabs a plate of bacon and pancakes. “Fer you, made just how you like it,” Mabel sits down in her chair as Fiddleford places the glass of water in front of her and a plate of pancakes and some bacon that is extremely burnt. “Burnt in a volcano.”

The brunette drinks some water first, happy to note that it actually does ease the pain in her throat! After that she eagerly grabs a burnt piece of bacon and shoves it into her mouth, loving the way flakey black residue smears onto her fingers and the overwhelming taste of what can only be described as ‘BURNT’ fills her mouth. She muffles out, “It’s perfect!” In between bites as Fiddleford chuckles at her antics and makes himself a plate. “Yer such an odd lil’ duck, honeydew! Only kid I’ve ever met who wanna me ta’ burn their meal!”

Mabel immediately shoots back, pointing at Fiddleford with a mouth full of bacon, “Tahts cause ohther peowple are COWERDS!!!”

The lanky man lets out a full on belly laugh as he grabs his plate and sits at the table, the two beginning to talk about anything that crosses their mind.

Stanford wasn’t going to join them for breakfast. He’s usually asleep at this time or buried in whatever notes he was currently writing.

…Mabel feels a little bad that she's kinda happy he wouldn’t join them… Her throat feels like it’s constricting all over again at the thought of those sickly yellow eyes and horrid laughter…

At some point while eating, Fiddleford makes a joke that makes Mabel loudly laugh, the sudden shout of laughter causing her to wince and try to grab at her throat. She stops herself a couple inches short of the grab and quickly puts her hand back down, but the damage was already done.

Fiddleford, concern coming back at full force, puts down his fork and immediately asks with a concerned tone, "Honey, is ‘ere somethin' wrong with ‘ur neck?"

Sweat began to bead on Mabel’s forehead and she tried to immediately brush off the concern with a not so convincing, "Whaaaaat, psh, nah!"

He raises an eyebrow at the clearly nervous little girl. "Mabel, if yer' hurt I'd like to know."

She starts to fidget in her seat, fingers wrapping together and her brown eyes darting away. "Look, it's not thaaaat bad you don't gotta worry about it-"

At the confirmation that she is indeed hurt makes him sit up and shoot back, "Well tha' just makes me MORE worried bout it!"

Unable to come up with anymore excuses Mabel plays with a fork in front of her, eyes locked with her plate. Fiddleford let out a soft sigh and leans closer to the brunette across the table and rests his hand on hers, a kind smile on his face as he gently adds on with that fatherly tone that immediately made Mabel feel better, "Darling, it ain't gonna get better if ya’ don't lemme help. I promise I ain’t gon’ get mad, ya hear?"

Mabel tentatively glanced up at the southern man’s soft green eyes and could tell he meant every kind word.

So, despite her promising to keep her injuries a secret, she takes a deep breath and nods her head, gingerly taking off the thick hand-made sweater to leave her neck and bandaged up arms exposed to the world. The lanky southern man’s eyes seem to grow more horrified every passing second.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph-"

Fiddleford jumps up from the table, almost making his plate fall off while doing so, quickly rounding the table and crouching in front of the brunette with green eyes filled with so much worry and horror.

He found himself fussing over the girl who had easily wormed herself into his and Ford's hearts and found himself growing even more sickened at every bruise and cut he found, though nothing could compare to that sinking feeling of dread he felt looking at Mabel's bruised neck.

He cupped the brunette’s face and could feel tears well up in his eyes as he stuttered out a confused, "W-wha'..., Mabel wha' on earth happened-" His heart breaking trying to even comprehend what could have happened to her.

On the opposite end, Mabel could feel her heart swell at Fidd's fatherly fussing, but tried to brush it off the best she could, not wanting him to worry about her.

"I'm fine really! I just, uh… tripped down the stairs…? …Yeah! Didn't want to worry you, haha!"

Fiddleford, who suddenly stopped paying attention to what Mabel was saying, let his eyes looking closer at the girl's neck before they widened in a horrifying realization.

"I… Is tha' a hand…?"

A rush of panic suddenly runs through Mabel as she tries to come up with some excuse to throw him off, something, anything!

"Fidd’s it's FINE! I just… uh… wore a sweater that was too tight…?” Goodness she’s screwed, even she was aware of how unsure she sounded.

Fiddleford still wasn’t paying attention. Instead one of his hands lowered from her rosy cheeks and ever so slightly touched her neck with the lightest of touches. His green gaze was analytical as finger traced down the bruised skin, talking to himself so quietly that even Mabel almost didn’t hear him as he quietly began to count.

“One, two, three, four, five, s-”

The blond cut himself off with a sharp inhale through his nose as the look of worry that had previously graced the southern man's face suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a look Mabel had never seen on his face before.

It was a quiet anger. The kind of anger that's terrifying to witness as it bubbles from deep inside but you refuse to let it show on your face, even as your hands begin to tremble and your vision goes red.

Without saying a word Fiddleford stood up and stayed completely silent, unable to say a word for about 10 seconds while his face was blank and unreadable. Finally, Fiddleford looked down at Mabel and gave a kind smile that didn't fully reach his eyes.

"Sweetie, could ya' stay here a sec? I have something importan' I need tha’… discuss… with Stanferd."

After finishing that statement he gently patted the top of her brunette head and walked out of the kitchen archway, turning the corner and heading up the stairs that lead to Stanford's room, walking with such silent intensity that it kinda frightened her.

After a couple moments of staying frozen in her chair she finally managed to shake off the feeling, realizing she had to stop Fiddleford! As scary as it would be seeing Stanford again after last night's… incident… she couldn't just let Fiddleford go confront Ford without the full story!

She sprang up from her chair and winced at the pain radiating from her back. Yep! Still definitely bruised!

Mabel rushed out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She stumbles to a stop at the end of the steps as she sees Fiddleford standing outside Ford's door, just as quiet as he was downstairs. He raises his hand and gives a firm echoing knock and she could faintly hear her young Grunkle respond with a strong, "Come in!"

She hates that she shivers a bit at his voice.

She hates that she's a little bit afraid of him.

Fiddleford doesn't respond and instead just opens the door and then quietly closes it behind him. The door doesn’t close all the way which makes a sliver of light from Ford's bedroom/study shine against the floor in the hallway.

Well... Fiddleford hadn't broken any windows or started yelling, so maybe, just maybe, he's going in there to calmly talk out the problem with Ford? Well, that was more wishful thinking on Mabel's part. She HOPES they will just, talk it out, and no one will get hurt...

A loud crash and shout echoed through the hallway.

A girl could dream can't she?

Mabel sprints to Stanford’s door, tripping over herself the whole way, and yanks open the heavy wooden door as quickly as she could.

When she finally pries it open she’s greeted with the sight of Fiddleford in the middle of trying to choke out Stanford, while Stanford is leaning against one of his smaller wooden cabinets, pushing Fidds away (to the best of his ability) with his foot, clutching his very bloody nose in confusion.

Mabel rushes in and pushes the southern man away from her bleeding Great Uncle to the best of her ability but Fiddleford upon seeing Mabel finally backs off from trying to murder Ford, but the look of pure anger firmly remains on his face.

Ford looks at Fiddleford with pure confusion as he pushes himself off the small wooden cabinet, clutching his bleeding nose all the while.

"F, what on earth has gotten into you!"

Fiddleford stared back with his mouth agape, absolutely gobsmacked, before finally yelling back, "Wha'- what's gotten into ME?! What's gotten into YOU Stanferd Pines!"

Fidds pushed past Mabel and jabbed his finger into the brunet’s chest.

"She's a lil girl?! How DARE you even lay a FINGER on her!"

"F what on earth are you talking about?!"

Fiddleford roughly grabs Ford's shoulders and pushes him to look towards Mabel with a surprising amount of force.

"SHE'S what I'm talkin' bout! Stanferd Filbrick Pines who gave you tha' idea ya' had tha' GODDAMN right to even lay a FINGER on her-"

Stanford couldn't focus on the rant Fiddleford poured into his ears instead his eyes state frozen on the disgusting purple mark staining Mabel's neck.

"Mabel… who-"

Stanford knelt next to the sweet girl who reminded him so much of Stanley in his youth and felt a familiar pang in his chest. That feeling he'd feel whenever Lee came home covered in bruises. That feeling to protect… and to hurt anyone who dares to hurt them.

"Sweetheart… who did this? What happened?"

Fiddleford scoffed. "Ya should know."

Ford shivered at how cold F had sounded. Out of all of his years of knowing him, Fidds had never sounded like this.

Then the meaning of those words finally hit him.

Stanford rushed to stand up and looked back to Fiddleford's furious eyes with his own look of disbelief.

"Y-... You think I did this?"

Fiddleford's eyes didn't change in the slightest.

"Ya'. Ya' I do."

"We've known each other for years, we went to college together, I went to your wedding, you are easily my best friend. Do you honestly think I'm capable of doing something like this?!"

"I used ta'," Fidds crossed his arms. "Now I ain't so sure."

Ford didn't know HOW to feel. This felt like a betrayal but not in the way Stanley's felt. He also felt offended. And hurt. And so many other emotions that were swirling in his chest.

"How? How did you even get it in your head that I had something to do with this!? How could you look at me and even IMAGINE me hurting her?! I can't even imagine myself hurting her! She's-"

"Hand."

Ford froze from his rant.

"What."

"Yer' tha' only one who coulda' done it. How do I know? Hand."

"Ya' always go on an' on about the statistics of someone' being polydactyly. About how different ya' are."

"I want ya' to look at how many fingers are on that handprint on 'er neck, look me in tha' eye, and tell me who's most likely tha' guilty party."

Stanford froze, his face turning white at the realization. He didn't need to turn around and investigate the bruise on Mabel's neck. He now knows it had 6 fingers. When you put all the facts together, one thing is clear.

He IS the most likely person to have done it.

But there's a problem with that.

He DEFINITELY didn't do it.

He glanced back at Mabel, who seemed to be nervously pulling at her nightgown the entire time. After a moment she finally glances up, but after looking into his brown eyes for less than a second she quickly looked back down.

He didn't do it. He knows he didn't.

But if he didn't, why did she look so scared of him?

He didn't do it…

…Didn’t he…?

❔—————————————❓

Now this is a bonus doodle based on an idea I had for the aftermath of this! Stanford is stuck mulling over this in his room and when he finally leaves he notes that Mabel isn't asleep on the couch like usual. So of course he freaks out and assumes she ran away, running all over the house in hopes of finding her. He runs upstairs to Fiddleford’s room and knocks frantically on his door to get him to help him find the missing girl.

Fiddleford opens the door looking annoyed and tired. When Stanford says he can’t find Mabel and that he’s looked everywhere the southern man cuts him off by instantly replying “I know where she is.” That instantly calms down Ford but he looks confused as he asks “You do?” To which Fidd’s opens the door a little bit more to show Mabel asleep on his bed.

Stanford lets out a soft ‘Oh.’ And just stands there, looking awkwardly at Fiddleford for a moment before trying to break the tension with a weak chuckle and asking “Did she want to have a sleepover?” The blond doesn’t even hesitate to reply back, “Yeah. Because she’s scared of you, Stanford.” And closing the door on the brunet’s face.

Stanford doesn’t move for what feels like forever before he heads back to his room, feeling a little sick.

Anywho, I’m done now!!!

I’m happy and sorry you read through all of that, you can leave now! 💥💥💥

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yeowangies · 7 months

Text

Candy

❧

PAIRING: Vegeta/Reader RATING: Explicit CONTENTS: Explicit sexual content, Masturbation. WARNINGS: None. WORDCOUNT: 2150

Summary: Vegeta is tired of you teasing and tempting him.

Notes:

Another thing I wrote to try to get back on track with other writings, and it tured out longer than I expected.

I haven't written anything regarding masturbation and I SO wanted to write this, and I figured Vegeta was the best subject for this! Didn't think this would be over 2k words lmao.

How you found yourself underneath Vegeta after interrupting his training at the gravity chamber was kind of a funny story. Or at least it was looking at it at that moment.

You didn’t think your little comments affected him so much; not when Bulma said things far cruder and more obscene than you did. You were doing it for the fun of it. Vegeta seemed closed to either obliterating Bulma or fucking her whenever she spoke to him, so whatever came out of your mouth was in no way expecting to end up anywhere with him. Besides, who wouldn’t fuck Bulma, right? She was the epitome of beauty.

But apparently Vegeta didn’t agree with you, or so it seemed. Not by the way he was looking at you. You were either about to be destroyed, or fucked. Hopefully the latter.

“You damned woman,” Vegeta spat, with a hand to your shoulder, pushing you against the cool floor, making you wince. “I’m fucking tired of your disgusting comments towards me, and now you come in here, interfering with my training!”

“I literally just came to check if you wanted to eat something…” You rolled your eyes, feigning innocence.

“Repeat your exact words.” Vegeta pressed with narrowed eyes, digging his fingers harder on your shoulder.

“I go nuts over your candy ass…” You whispered very quietly, not because you were embarrassed, but you knew you’d laugh if you repeated it louder. “It was such an easy joke!”

“Vulgar woman!” Vegeta’s frown got deeper as his face got closer to you, and you shivered once you noticed how mad he truly was. “Vulgar pathetic little woman.”

“Ok, are you gonna keep insulting me?” You glared at him despite your nerves.

“You deserve far worse.”

“I just said you had a cute butt! Bulma has said worse stuff, so why are you so mad at me?!”

A low growl rumbled deep inside Vegeta’s chest, and for a second you thought that was it, your life was over. But the hand on your shoulder moved swiftly towards your neck, only tightening to make you look at him with eyes wide open, still allowing you to breathe normally. Both of your hands went to grab his forearm on instinct, afraid he was actually going to choke you to death.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Huh?”

“I cannot stand the sight of you!” Vegeta raised his voice as his eyes got significantly darker. “You’re distracting, parading around in the most indecent tiny clothes, and you expect me to remain impassive!”

You arched your eyebrow as he went on; he was talking about the few times you bathed in the pool at Bulma’s house. But you didn’t even remember seeing him around then.

“And now you come in here, disturbing me with your presence-”

“I don’t understand.”

“Are you so dense you don’t speak your own language?” He retorted with a sardonic smirk.

“You’re such a jerk, no! I mean I don’t get why you’re so pissed! I wasn’t even doing that ‘parading around’ on purpose! And if it bothers you so much, I won’t ever do it again!” You added, though you regretted it immediately. You wanted to use Bulma’s pool as long as it was available.

Vegeta clicked his tongue in annoyance, averting his eyes for a brief moment before looking back at you.

“You really are a stupid woman.”

Before you could open your mouth to insult him right back, Vegeta firmly pressed his body to yours, and as he stared into your eyes with a faint blush on his cheeks, you couldn’t help the choked out gasp from leaving your lips.

He was hard.

It was difficult not to notice as he pushed his crotch against your lower abdomen for a fleeting moment before pulling back, and curiosity invaded you. Was that why he was so pissed off? You had been unintentionally turning him on? You didn’t think he would pay so much attention to you, especially when you rarely even saw him; he spent most of his time training in the stupid gravity chamber you both were currently at.

Apparently Vegeta had been looking at you much more than you thought.

“Is this your way of telling me you like me?” You asked, between shy and smug.

“Like you?” Vegeta frowned, but you noticed how red the tip of his ears were. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Yeah, you say that, but you are the one pinning me down and pushing yourself onto me, so.”

The twitch in his eyebrow almost made you laugh if it wasn’t for the intense glare he had in his gaze.

“You make it impossible for me to focus, your indecency is so disgusting-”

“I’m not even doing anything right now!” His hand around your throat squeezed lightly and swiftly, making you choke on the last syllable. You pouted, trying to push his buttons a little more. “So I make you hard on the regular, why is that bad?”

“Why is that-” Vegeta splurted, embarrassed.

“Wanna show me?” You smiled, teasingly.

Your hand on his forearm softly traveled up his arm and down his side, and your grin got wider when you noticed the blush expanding towards his face. Vegeta slapped your hand once it got to his waist and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You do not deserve to touch me.” Vegeta stated, still a little red, but obviously frustrated.

“Maybe I should show you something myself then.”

When your hands slid down your front to grip your shirt, you expected Vegeta to stop you; he had been so scandalized when you tried to touch him that you figured he might prevent you from going further. But to your amusement, his eyes fixated on your moves as you pushed your shirt up until it was bunching up over your chest, presenting your breasts covered with lace.

At least you put on a nice bra that day.

A sense of superiority washed over you when he didn’t avert his eyes. You didn’t think you would get his attention, but after everything he said you wanted to take a little advantage of him.

You wanted to see him.

“You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” You started, looking into his eyes when his gaze met yours again. His eyebrow twitched, but he didn’t reply. “You pictured me underneath you like I am right now, right?”

“You have no idea what I’ve been thinking about.”

“Then tell me.”

You smiled slyly, though Vegeta remained surprisingly impassive. Aside from the blush that still adorned his face. He removed his hand from your neck, and you found that you would have liked it if he kept it there; there was something alluring about it. The fabric of his glove touched the exposed skin of your waist, a very chaste gesture, though his eyes were fixed on your boobs.

“Do you touch yourself, Vegeta?” You asked when he stayed silent for longer than you expected. You were going to get something out of him, for sure.

“To my own shame, yes.” He replied, completely serious. You didn’t think he would admit it so easily and without protesting. “More frequently every time you are around.”

The resentment in his voice only amused you more; who would be so angry because they’re horny?

Probably someone who wasn’t getting laid.

“You told me not to touch you, but I’m still showing myself to you, Vegeta.”

He didn’t need you to explain what you meant, his gaze growing darker as he took off his glove before pulling his pants down enough to expose his cock. Your eyes immediately darted downwards, looking at his cock with a gleam; he was hard and thick, thicker than you expected when he wrapped his hand around his own erection.

“Are you really offering yourself to me, woman? Are you that obscene?” Vegeta asked, mocking you.

“Vegeta, I’ve been teasing you all this time because you’re hot and I like you.” You looked him in the eye briefly, letting him know you were honest. “Not that you need the ego boost.”

“I could kill you.”

“But you’re touching yourself instead.”

A smirk formed on his face just as he started stroking himself.

“I suppose I could use you, since you’re so kind to present your body to me like this.” Vegeta said, voice still surprisingly calm even though his moves over his erection were firm. “If you must know, you have been on my mind since I got here.”

Your eyes, that had been focusing on his hand as he masturbated, looked up at him.

“I pictured you as you are now, completely subdued underneath me, and for once you’re too overwhelmed to even utter one word out of that dirty mouth of yours.”

You rolled your eyes; of course a guy like this would have a thing for control. And you don’t mind submitting every now and then, but not without putting up a little bit of a fight. It simply wasn’t in your nature to be docile.

But you were currently trying to rile him up more, show yourself off to him so he could see what could be his if he simply made a little effort. So your hands skimmed across your tummy, steadily trailing upwards until you hooked your fingers underneath your bra before slowly lifting it up, your breasts bouncing free right in front of him. The sharp intake of breath Vegeta took was audible as he stared at your chest and it only made your sense of superiority grow larger.

“You wicked woman…” He said, voice shaky as he picked up the pace, his hand moving in rough, fast tugs. “You’ve been tempting me on purpose this whole time.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” You answered with fake innocence, though you were sincere.

“Liar.” Vegeta smirked, his breathing turning rugged with each move of his hand over his cock.

When you fixed your gaze on his cock, already leaking precum as his hand worked faster, you couldn’t help but press your thighs together, trying to create a little friction to alleviate your own arousal. Vegeta’s face was twisted, brows furrowed in a different way than usual, and the blush on his cheeks only made him look vulnerable, a contrast to his usual stoic demeanor. It was turning you on so much to see him like that, and the slick sounds produced from his own strokes was just adding fuel to the fire in your loins.

You wanted to touch him so bad, and when the precum dripped onto your abdomen, you let out a breathy moan. His eyes were on your face, but you could only watch his hand moving firmly over his erection, trying to bring himself to completion, as more drops kept pooling around your belly. He was grunting and groaning surprisingly quietly, and you suspected that’s how he usually did it when he was alone.

“You’re thinking about fucking me hard and fast, aren’t you? Maybe even using my tits instead of straight up putting it inside me.” You purred, pushing your breasts together, and making his eyes stare directly at your chest.

“Is that what you want?” Vegeta asked between groans, smiling wickedly. “To be used by me?”

“Only if I get to use you as well.”

Vegeta let out what was probably a snort, attempting to dismiss your comment, but it only came out as a shaky grunt. He was getting louder and if you had to take a guess, he was just a few seconds away from coming.

Emboldened by the sounds he was making and the expression on his face, you reached down with one of your hands, wrapping it carefully over the one he had around his cock. He didn’t push you away, only groaned, and let you move in sync with him.

It only took a few harsh strokes to make Vegeta reach his end, and he growled louder and hoarser than ever before as he spilled his cum all over your stomach, a few droplets even reaching your chest, burning up your skin, making you moan. He let go of his cock then, but you didn’t, helping him ride out his high, moving your hand up and down carefully until he stopped leaking. He grunted and gasped, jaw tense and brows furrowed as he tried to catch his breath.

You thought he was handsome before, but this side of him, the faces he had made the whole time, only made him much enticing, and you couldn’t wait to see more of him.

Vegeta looked at you with eyes still very much dark and clouded, and you could only smile.

“Wanna know what I’ve been thinking about when I touch myself?” You asked him, hooking your fingers on the waistband of your pants to pull them down along with your completely soaked underwear.

#dbz fics #dbz fanfiction #dbz imagine #vegeta x you #vegeta x reader #vegeta #dbz #my writing

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ivyyisbored22 · 1 month

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐞—𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

An academic rivals, Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: You and Jeongin have been academic rivals since the beginning of law school and almost every professor knows that you two are the fiercest competitors in the program. Things get worse (or heated should we say?) when your professor pairs you with Jeongin for a final project...

Warnings: SMUT🔞 (with a plot). Mature content. Semi-public sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving). Minors do not interact!!!

Note: There's not as much smut in this one compared to my previous one shots. I'm exploring my writing style but I must say I really enjoyed writing this one ^^

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 3.2k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

"NO!" The two of you shouted in unison at your professor.

The professor looked at you and then Jeongin unimpressed, for the first time, he was taken aback by the unprofessional behavior from both of you.

"It is important for lawyers to learn how to collaborate. When you have your own firms, you can think about competition. But now if you want to graduate, you must do this project together."

You exchanged a glare with Jeongin, his jaw clenched as tightly as yours. The room felt thick with the tension neither of you could seem to shake.

"Can't you pair me with someone else sir?" You begged your professor.

The last thing you wanted before graduating in a few months was your head on a platter thanks to the unwantedly attractive man standing next you. You were sure God was in a very good mood when creating him.

You joined the best university of Law with high hopes of having a wonderful Uni life, but the UNIVERSE had other plans for you.

Instead of breezing through your courses, you found yourself locked in a constant battle with Jeongin, your academic nemesis. Every class, every debate, every exam, it was always about outdoing each other.

Now you have to work with him. Oh dear heaven. And has your heart always raced so fast when seeing a man with dimples?

The professor shook his head. "My decision is final. If I don't get your report by the deadline, expect that you won't be wearing your graduation cap."

Was the last he said before he gestured the two of you out of the classroom. Jeongin scoffed audibly, having to pair up with you is his worst nightmare.

He hated that he had to share the spotlight with you. He hated your relentless drive and your sharp mind that often matched his own.

But most of all, he absolutely hated that he found you cute. It was infuriating how your determination and fiery spirit only made you more attractive to him.

As you walked down the hall together, with a huge gap in between, of course. The silence was heavy and deafening. You stole a glance at Jeongin and caught him looking at you, his expression unreadable, almost annoyed.

He quickly looked away, clearing his throat.

"5pm. Library. Don't be late" His voice was low and controlled, he didnt bother waiting for a reply and walked away down the hall.

And you stood there watching him walk away, muttering to yourself, "F.M.L"

***

"You clearly don't have this point right, what is it even supposed to mean?" You asked, frustration palpable in your voice.

For two hours, you and Jeongin had been arguing over the points in the project, refusing to come to a mutual understanding. The tensed murmur of your voices earned quite a few disapproving glances from other students who were at the library.

Jeongin rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. He was this close to taping your mouth shut with the scotch tape that was inside your pencil case.

"I do have it right. You're just not seeing the bigger picture."

"Fine, explain it to me then." You taunted.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned in closer, pointing at the document. "Here, the case precedent supports our argument, but you need to connect it to the current legislation. It's all about drawing the parallels."

Your eyes flickered with understanding, finally getting his point but you felt kind of embarrassed for not seeing it in the first place.

"Oh" You said, trying to sound neutral but mostly hiding your embarrassed voice.

"Yes, oh," Jeongin smirked, it only annoyed you more but for some reason your pulse quickened like a cheetah's sprint when you caught a glance of his deep dimple.

Get yourself together. He's your rival.

"Anyways..." you muttered, trying to refocus.

For the next hour, the two of you finally settled into a proper argument for your project and began brainstorming ideas. Despite the initial tension, you both fell into a rhythm, challenging and pushing each other in a way that brought out your best work.

Suddenly, when you reached the laptop opened on the table, Jeongin's hand softly brushed over yours. The touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine. You pulled back quickly, your face flushing.

"Sorry," you mumbled, not meeting his eyes. Jeongin's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he cleared his throat.

"No problem."

The moment passed, but the charged atmosphere remained. Every time your eyes met, it was as if the air around you crackled with unspoken words.

"I'm going to um, find a book on this topic," You said slowly getting up. If you remained next to him for another minute, your heart would burst out of your ribcage.

"We have the internet for that," Jeongin raised a suspicious brow, looking at you narrowing his eyes. "Why not just look it up online?"

"Well, the library might have some unique sources," you replied, trying to sound casual as you collected your things. Besides, it’s a good excuse to get out of here for a bit.

Jeongin's eyes followed you, the intensity of his stare making your skin tingle. "Sure," he said, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place—was it disappointment or something else?

You could feel his gaze lingering on you even after you turned away, as you walked towards the far end of library, to the secluded section just for Law & Crime.

Even after you walked away, you could almost hear the tension humming between you.

Searching for a book in the dimly lit aisles, you tried to steady your breathing. But every small noise, every rustle of paper seemed amplified, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that Jeongin was somehow still very close.

As you were tracing your fingers the thick spines of the books, you honestly weren't browsing for any answers. You just wanted to get away from Jeongin. A long shadow fell over you, keeping you locked in place.

A hand grabbed the top shelf, you instantly recognised that watch and that ring on the index finger. You stood there without turning around but that strong minty cologne englufed you.

"Found the answers you needed?"

His voice didn't have to sound that deep. His voice didn't have to make your pulse race again. His voice absolutely did not have to make you want to press your mouth on his to shut him up.

You turned your head to the side, trying to keep your thoughts straight. "I'm still," you swallowed. "Finding it."

"For forty minutes?"

Forty minutes passed?! You were so lost in thought, you completely lost track of time. Finally you turned around facing Jeongin, the look on his face was hot enough to start a fire.

His eyes were dark and intense, his expression a mix of frustration and something else you couldn't quite place.

"Jeongin," you started, but he cut you off stepping closer, making your back press against the shelf, there was only a sliver of space between the two of you.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "You were hiding."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died on your lips as his gaze pinned you in place. The air between you crackled with tension, every inch of space shrinking.

"I wasn't hiding," you finally managed, though your voice was barely a whisper, "I just needed a break"

Jeongin took a step back, crossing his arms, "From what? Me?"

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "Maybe."

Jeongin's eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the rivalry seemed to fade, leaving only the raw intensity of the moment. His hand fell onto your waist pulling you into him, his body pressing on yours.

Your heart began to pound again at the feeling of his touch, your hands fell on his chest, wanting to push him away but somehow your heart couldn't find a way to do so.

"You're lying," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, "You can't stand being away from me any more than I can stand being away from you"

He turned his head and before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours, silencing any protest. It was fierce and demanding, a release of all the tension that had been building between you and him.

Four years of frustration, competion and unspoken feelings crashing down right here.

Your eyes widened but you found yourself kissing him back just as fervently, your hands going up from his shirt, tangling in his hair as you pressed closer to his body.

Every touch, every movement of his tongue was electric, your bodies moving in perfect sync, the world around you faded away, leaving only the heat and intensity of the moment.

Teeth against teeth and Jeongin's tongue pushing against yours demanding dominance, nothing seemed to exist other than you and him. He tasted like chocolate and caramel, sweet and rich and goodness, him.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, Jeongin's eyes were dark with desire, his hand still resting on your waist.

"This doesn't change anything," You whispered though your voice lacked conviction. Jeongin smirked, his thumb brushing against your hip.

"No Darling," He said brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"This changes everything." As he pulled you back in for another kiss.

You melted into his mouth, couldn't help but agree no matter how much you hated it. The lines between rivalry and desire had blurred beyond recognition. You could simply drown into him, wetness began pooling between your legs.

Holy fucking shit this man is an incredible kisser.

It was slower, more deliberate, each movement sending shivers down your spine. You moulded into him, forgetting about the project, the library, everything except the feel of his lips on yours and the way his hand held the side of your head with a possessive intensity.

Jeongin's hand went up your skirt, grazing your thigh, the feel of his palm on your skin made you softly moan into his mouth, he eagerly responded with a moan of his own.

He pulled back, catching for a breath before he said, "Tell me to stop before it's too late"

Jeongin's fingers squeezed your thigh making you inhale a long breath, your hands instantly pressed on his shoulders. His fingers went more upwards and stroked the thin fabric covering your wet crotch.

He couldn't suppress a chuckle as he tilted his head to the side, "Last chance darling" He leaned in closer, "Yes. Or No?"

"No," You whispered when you felt his fingers stroke your wetness again. You were gonna hate yourself later, but right now you were so aroused, no other thought made sense in your brain.

"Don't stop" You said as softly as possible and before your words fully left your mouth, Jeongin's lips collided with yours.

Every single thought vanished out of his head as he twisted the lace band of your panties and pulled it down in one strike and the next second a finger went through your wet folds.

You moaned a bit more loudly into his mouth before pulling back as you jerked when another finger entered you.

"So wet for me," He kissed the corner of your lips as his fingers worked in and out of your dripping cunt.

"Can't ignore me that easily can ya?" A sly smirk played in the corner of his lips, the way his fingers worked in you couldn't bring words out of your mouth.

"I hate you," You managed to say through a moany, whispering voice, your fingers pressing on his arms.

"You hate me, but your pussy is begging me for more," Jeongin's voice was deep and almost like growl, it made the tiny hairs in the back of your neck stand up.

There was no slowness in his pace of pumping his fingers inside of you, he went in and out and circled your clit, your back arched against the shelf.

A whimper escaped your lips, Jeongin traced his finger on your lower lip before saying, "This is a library okay?"

You had little time to fully process what he said, Jeongin pulled his fingers out of you and sank onto his knees, spreading your thighs and yanking your skirt up, he dived his face up in your wet heat.

Your hand immediately slapped close over your mouth to prevent the loud moan that threatened to escape, the sensation of Jeongin's tongue on your pussy sent sizzles rush through your body.

Jeongin felt like this was the best thing he ever laid his mouth on. The taste of your sweet pussy was so addicting, he wanted to drown in it and the scent of your arousal drove his senses out of him.

You've had your fair share of men over the years and so has Jeongin with other women, but the two of your felt like this was the ultimate answer, the missing piece of your competitive puzzle.

Jeongin's tongue expertedly licked your pussy, your hand gripped his hair, needing something to hold onto. He slowly grazed his teeth over your tender clit, you shook around him in a soft cry, the sound sent a jolt straight to his cock.

"Jeongin..." You whimpered softy, blood rushing into his brain as he heard his name in that sweetest voice.

"You taste divine darling" Jeongin gave a languorous lick, "I can simply live by eating you out"

Your head fell back at his words and at his tongue that dived inside your dripping cunt, feasting on your arousal.

Jeongin looked up at you, you were covering your mouth silencing your moans while glistening tears were leaking down from the corners of your closed eyes. He thought it was the hottest thing he ever witnessed.

He took the chance to push two of his fingers again, stretching your folds as he gave so much attention to your swollen pearl. He continued in an intense pace, sucking, licking and finger fucking, your arousal dripped down his hands and your thighs.

He lapped it all up, feeling nearly intoxicated by the way you taste.

His cock twitched and was harder than a rock, aching and begging to break free from his pants. But he ignored it even though the pain felt excruciating, he focused solely on your pussy.

Jeongin was animalistic, his mouth and fingers ruthlessly working on you to the point you could see stars erupt behind your eyes. You had never experienced something this pleasuring, it was euphoric.

He groaned into your wet heat when he felt your knees buckle, another lazily, long and languid lick was what undid you, your orgasm flooded his mouth.

You came shuddering, panting heavily. You let go of Jeongin's hair when you felt a soft tissue on your skin, Jeongin wiped and kissed your thighs and fixed your clothes.

As he got up on his feet, his hand was holding you fiercely since you were wobbling because your legs lost balance. If just his tongue and hands made your legs go numb, his cock could do beyond.

"I, oh my God—" Realization began crashing into your head like a current wave. Your academic rival just had you in the library, your cheeks flushed crimson, so pink someone could compare it to blooming roses.

Jeongin pushed his tongue in the inside of his cheek, it's impossible to resist his charm.

The Universe was in your side thankfully today, no one had walked into you— yet, but the what if thoughts couldn't stop playing in your head.

What if a professor or someone had walked in you and him? The two of you pushed your luck as far as it could have gone tonight.

Jeongin pressed onto you again, so close you could feel his bulge on you. It was so hard for him to ignore since his cock was that hard.

He literally wants to fill you right here but the smell of sex soaking the air wouldn't take a genius passing by to put two and two together.

"Still hate me?" he asked so casually, almost as if nothing had happened, as if what you both just did in the fucking library was the most normal thing in the world.

You looked away, unable to answer his question. It was impossible to hate him. You hated yourself if anything because you couldn’t hate him the way you wanted. And after the way he just made you feel right now? Hate wasn't even close to what you felt.

Every time you found a reason to, when he answered questions before you in class or got one percent of a grade above you, his infectious smile and irresistible body would dissolve your resolve.

That dimpled grin of his had a way of sneaking past your defenses, making it harder and harder to convince yourself that he was just your rival.

"I don’t hate you," You admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hung between you, heavy with the truth you’d been avoiding.

Jeongin’s expression softened, the usual smirk fading into something more serious, more vulnerable. "Good," he said, leaning in and pecking your lips.

"Because I never hated you either."

You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as the reality of his words sunk in. All this time, the rivalry, the arguments, the competition—none of it had been about hatred.

It was something else entirely, something you both had been too stubborn to acknowledge until now.

Jeongin reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "This... whatever this is between us, it’s complicated," he said, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. "But I don’t regret it."

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment as you let yourself savor the warmth of his hand.

"Neither do I," You whispered. When you opened your eyes, you found Jeongin looking at you with a mixture of longing and determination.

"We’re still rivals," he said, his voice firm but laced with a hint of playfulness. "But that doesn’t mean we can’t have... this." His hand went down and squeezed your ass.

"This?" You echoed, your lips curving into a small smile. "You mean sneaking around in libraries and trying to pretend we don’t want to rip each other’s clothes off?"

Jeongin chuckled, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he bit his. "Something like that. But maybe we can do more than just sneak around."

Your smile widened, the tension between you shifting into something lighter, something full of promise. "I think I can live with that."

His eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that made your knees weak.

"Then it’s settled," he murmured against your lips. "Tomorrow, after we finish this project, we’ll figure out the rest."

You nodded, too breathless to say anything more. As he pulled away, you felt a sense of anticipation bubbling up inside you, mingled with the thrill of what lay ahead.

The two of you made your way back to the table and packed your belongings, calling it a night and exiting the library. Once you made it to the parking lot, Jeongin's eyes fell on yours, making your heart skip a beat.

"Goodnight, Jeongin," you said softly, stepping back.

"Goodnight," he replied, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he finally turned to leave to his car.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

Things were definitely going to be different from now on. You might still be rivals in the classroom, but outside of it, the possibilities were endless—and you were more than ready to explore every single one.

The lines between rivalry and desire blurred beyond recognition and now there was no turning back.

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking Ribbon and/or Blaze ...or my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Leave your comments ;)

Thank you for reading!

xx,Ivyy

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avelera · 1 year

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OFMD S2 Meta - Stede's Garbage Self-Worth with regards to Ed is still unresolved

(And I'm so hyped for this plotline)

H'ok! So of all the scenes in episodes 1-3 of OFMD S2, this is the one I've been most hyped to discuss but I've been putting it off a few days so people had at least a little time to watch the new eps.

Gifs are courtesy of @ratchet from this gifset:

Hoooo BOY this is such an interesting scene to unpack! Because to me there's at least 3 levels going on here.

What Lucius hears

What the audience "hears"

What Stede literally said

Thing is, I believe when Stede says, "I'm not ready to believe that," the tone that Lucius hears and that the audience is at least 50/50 expected to hear based on the sort of cadence of the scene is, "I'm not ready to believe that Ed's best days are behind him. I'm going to change that."

But I'm not convinced that's what Stede is saying, what Rhys Darby is portraying, or what is literally on the page.

Literally, on the page, Stede says he's not ready to believe that. And given that Stede is very neurodivergent coded, Rhys is self-confessed autistic, and I believe Rhys is bringing that to his portrayal of Stede, I think we really should look at literal words as written and not just run with they're implied to say. This could be read as a declaration that Stede refuses to accept a reality where Ed's best days are behind him or the literal reading: he still can't process that Ed Teach's time with Stede Bonnet was the best Ed's life is ever going to get.

I believe this is for multiple reasons:

Stede isn't going to throw off a lifetime of low self-esteem and bullying overnight just because he's realized he's in love. Especially when the manner of realizing it (end of S1) was hurting the person he loves pretty badly by abandoning him without a word. He's determined to fix his mistakes but each step of the journey is revealing just how big of a mistake it actually was. Not exactly the stuff of sudden self-confidence and positive self-image change.

It requires a full re-write in Stede's brain of every single assumption he had about his relationship with Ed before their separation. Stede in S1, to my eyes, very much saw himself as the junior partner in the relationship. He saw Ed as taking pity on him, to some extent. He felt blessed to have Ed there. It informed so much of their relationship and it especially informed him taking off when he thought his presence was an active burden on Ed. Basically, what Lucius is saying here attacks the very foundations of Stede's understanding of the happiest part of his life so far. To learn that Ed wasn't just the happiest part of his life, but that he, Stede Bonnet, was the happiest part of Ed's life? Whew. Fuck. Not good. Very not good.

Because it's really not good if he was the happiest part of Ed's life, that he so fundamentally misunderstood their dynamic because of his low self-esteem, that he ended the happiest period of Ed's life without warning, without a note, prematurely, and left Ed with the inescapable conclusion that Stede doesn't care about him.

I think worse, even worse, is that Stede has evidence that Lucius is right that he was the best part of Ed's life. But in S1, we're heavily in Stede's POV and Stede's POV of himself is that he's a joke, pathetic, garbage, lucky to have someone like Ed in his life. But Ed's literal actions, louder than words, are that he chose Stede. He gave up piracy for him. He stayed by him. He offered his life for Stede's. Stede wasn't ready to hear that then, he couldn't hear it over the sound of his own low self-esteem whispering poison in his ear, externalized by the Badmintons (both real and imagined). He took their words as fact, rather than Ed's actions as fact. Reexamining Ed's actions shows just how wrong they were. Just how wrong Stede was. And just how badly he hurt Ed because he didn't listen to Ed, the person he loves, over the voices of his own trauma, self-doubt, or of the Badmintons, people who literally hated Stede.

It's a lot. It's a lot for Stede to take in. He's not there yet. But I love that we've had it said aloud: this is a major plot point still. Stede's end-of-S1 glow-up didn't signal that he's self-confident now enough to realize he might be as good for Ed as Ed is for him. He's still grappling with that. It shatters him to even begin to realize this. They have to work through that still. Stede is ready to start listening but he still doesn't, can't literally can't, believe it just yet. It's just too big.

And I am absolutely salivating to see how the rest of the season deals with this thread.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #my meta #spoilers

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pinkthrone445 · 9 months

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Hey sweetheart, can you write a Melissa x reader

Reader is a math teacher in Abbott but for a reason cause the reader is dyslexic and some teachers kind out and start making fun of them. Melissa doesn’t like that and stops it real quick. As someone with dyslexia it really hits lol

-I'm here to help-

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:fluff, short

Warnings:strong words

Summary:Melissa doesn't like it when she hears other coworkers make fun of you and decides to help you.

Hi gorgeous, I'm dyslexic too hahaha, I wrote this from my own experience, I hope you like this and that I fulfill your expectation, thanks for the request 💕

Abbott elementary, a school where children had opportunities to learn when elsewhere they had been rejected. It was an inclusive school, the teachers with their low budget, did everything possible to give the best to their students. Some children lacked many things in their day-to-day lives, so you as teachers got involved, sometimes too much, so that they did not feel lacking anything in which you had the opportunity to help.

You, as teachers, were also very careful in cases of bullying, sometimes putting an end to it even before it started.

You did everything to take care of the children, unfortunately, very rarely was there anyone who did anything to take care of you.

Problems between teachers were solved by the teachers, no one else intervened or helped, not even if you were the one who was being bullied.

It had been a very long and heavy week, grading exams and daily life had greatly drained your energies. You urgently needed the weekend to be able to rest well and recover. Not only did you feel tired, but the tiredness affected other parts of your being, like your dyslexia, it wasn't usually that bad, but when you were tired it was worse and you didn't even realize it.

As a math teacher, it was rare for your students to notice any mistakes in the equations, but when it was your turn to write or read something, it was easy to highlight your mistakes. Although the children were very kind in helping you see what you had written or read wrong, they didn't do it in a mocking way and that calmed you down and helped you a lot. If it wasn't for them correcting you, you wouldn't realize your mistakes even if you read the word 5 times. There were times when you didn't even notice your mistake, such as letters being moved or letters that were similar to each other being swapped, and other times when you knew you had written something wrong but couldn't see what it was even though you had it in front of you. Sometimes you changed the order of letters and other times you didn't write all the letters of the word skipping some, there were also times when you confused one word with another. It wasn't something that happened every moment of the day, but the accumulated tiredness was affecting you to make it happen more often than usual.

Apparently, some teachers at school found it very funny that you made mistakes because of your dyslexia, many times at lunchtime you would find them talking and making fun of you, stopping whenever they noticed you were in the room. It usually didn't bother you, but you were so tired that you had little patience and things affected you more than usual.

It was already thursday, all you had to do was take the last exam and correct it, so you would close the grades and the children who passed would not have to return the last weeks of the year. But you were so tired that you didn't realize that in that last exam you had several mistakes when writing it, so when it came to correcting and realizing that everyone had made a few many mistakes because of you, you had no choice but to recognize it and cancel the exam and the notes, hoping that the kids will take it again and the parents won't be mad at you.

Sadly, when you realized that mistake, you were correcting in the teacher's room where everyone who commonly made fun of you was. They had already been talking about you and you knew it, but when you noticed the same mistake in all the exams and your face transformed, it caught their attention

-"Look at dydy over there, it looks like she is having an existencial crisis"-They whispered between each other, they called you dydy because they thought it was a funny nickname for someone with dyslexia. You tried not to pay attention to them and rubbed your hands all over your face trying to find a solution, you've never had a mistake this big that affect the kids exams and grades so much. You were so stressed and tired that your eyes filled with tears without you noticing. At the moment when you started crying, Mel walked into the teacher's room, it was weird to see her there, she always went to the room on the first floor and not that one on the second floor. The redhead's eyes immediately landed on you, and her brow furrowed with concern

-"Are you okay hon?"-Mel asked worriedly and you sighed trying to calm yourself down

-"Yeah... It's just that I made a mystic on a test and it affects every kid in my class"-You replied to the redhead and listened as the others laughed and mocked

-"That nickname it's better! Mystic! She said mystic instead of mistake!"-A fool made fun of you and you grunted annoyedly as you got out of your seat

-"You know what I meant! I meant mystic, not mystic!"-They laughed again and you sighed, when someone repeated the words you said wrong, you had a harder time saying it right-"I meant to say mistake!"-You screamed grabbing your papers and walked out of the room.

-"I don't understand how she is a teacher with how stupid she is and all the mistakes she makes when writing or reading. I don't understand how she got her degree"-One of them spoke up, continuing his mockery. Melissa stared at them and took decisive steps to them, if looks could kill, his body would be lost somewhere where it could never be found

-"Look assholes, she got her degree like all of us by studying and giving the best of her, and if she got it it's because she deserves it, I'm sure she deserves it much more than each one of you. Dyslexia is not a sign of stupidity, there are many people with dyslexia who are very intelligent. On the other hand, you are stupid, although you have no excuse for being that way. Her students have some of the best GPAs here at the school, better than any of your classes, do you know why? Because she cares about her students instead of meddling in other people's lives. If I hear any of you once again speaking ill of her, I do not assure you that you will ever see the light of day again, capisce?"-The redhead spoke in an authoritative voice, and everyone nodded in fright. Mel then turned around and started looking for you, finding you in your classroom surrounded by papers

-"Hey hon, how are you doing?"-The redhead asked, entering your classroom, where there were no one else besides you, and she came closer until she was in front of you, but you kept looking at your papers

-"It's nothing Mel, I'm fine"-You answered without looking at her, trying to convince her even though your eyes were still red and watery

-"Don't lie to me, If you don't want to talk, I understand, but don't lie to me. You don't cry when it's nothing, you cry when something hurts. Is it because of what they said? You know that they're stupid, do you want me to come back with my bat?" - Her comment made you get a little laugh

-"Usually it doesn't bother me what they say, but this week has been terrible, and if I already feel like a bad teacher day by day with my problem, I feel worse when they highlight it and make fun of it... Did you know that because they made fun of me, the school made me take a spelling course? Like that's my problem... Usually it's not that bad and I can handle it thanks to a lot of exercises I made, but now I'm tired, stressed, hungry and in a bad mood and that makes me make more mistakes... Like in these stupid exams where I got almost every exercise wrong so the kids also got their answers wrong... Not only do I have to retake the test, I have to revise it 10 times before I take it again or the kids' parents will kill me"-You muttered through your breath annoyed, and Mel sighed at the sight of you

-"Come to my house tonight, I'll help you... And I don't take no for an answer"-She said and walked out of your classroom before you could protest or say anything.

That night you went to her house and knocked on the door with a pot of ice cream in your hands, when the redhead saw you a big smile filled her face and let you in, the house had an exquisite aroma and a beautiful atmosphere. You had been there before with Barbara who was also your friend, but it was different to be there alone, you could pay attention to more things and details.

Mel grabbed your coat and made you sit at the table serving you a plate of food that looked delicious

-"I thought you'd help me with my exam"-you joked and she sat down next to you with another plate for herself

-"And that's what I'm doing, I know that tiredness and not eating well affects your concentration, so first we'll eat so it's easier for you to see the mistakes. I also put on my computer a font that is supposed to help people with dyslexia, the two of us will correct the errors of the exam and then read it between the two of us to make sure it's okay, yes? But first, enjoy your meal"-The redhead commanded and you ate smiling feeling a warmth in your chest, she had not only defended you, she had paid attention to you and kept her promise to help you. And that wasn't the only time, she made sure that whenever you needed help, she was by your side.

#melissa schemmenti smut #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #Melissa schemmenti request #melissa schemmenti abott elementary #abbott elementary fanfic #abott elementary fanfic #lissa ann walter

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worth-the-chaos · 8 months

Text

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 11

Chapter Summary: Steve and you are finally officially dating, the kids are finally in high school and no longer need any sort of official babysitting, and life is overall pretty damn good. You try to push aside the unease settling in your chest, but how long can you ignore it before it manifests into something much worse than you could possibly imagine.

Content Warning: swearing, bullying, trauma responses, intimacy

Word Count: 6.7k

Author’s Note: Sorry this took me longer to get out than some of the previous chapters. Life has been a bit hectic to say the very least (my brother low key got robbed and I was helping him sort some of it out), but I’m glad I was finally able to get this done! I’m looking forward to writing more of season 4!

Message me to be added to the taglist! Also, please send me asks! I love talking to you guys, so even if you want to tell me about something as mundane as what you had for breakfast, I’m happy to hear it :)

Series Masterlist | Part 10 | Next Part

***

Spring break started soon, and despite having graduated and gotten out of the shit hole that is Hawkins High, Steve still drove you and Robin to school. You hadn’t stayed the night last night at Steve’s so you slid into the backseat behind him as you got in the car. Even though you were halfway through second semester, you still weren’t used to Steve not being there to walk you to your first period every morning like he had the year before.

Of course, you stepped right into the middle of an argument between your boyfriend and your best friend. At least they aren’t shoving each other like toddlers this time, you thought as you rolled your eyes and buckled your seatbelt.

“Cut me some slack, please! It is 7:00 in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” Robin shouted, pushing the skin on her face around as she looked in the visor mirror.

“Oh, you’re worried about a basketball pep rally? You expect me to believe that?” Steve shot back.

“Yeah? So?” Robin’s voice got small as she anticipated the trajectory of this conversation.

“So, we both know what this is about, okay? I’m not buying that bullshit, this is about Vickie!”

“Absolutely not!” Robin defended herself. You scoffed from the back seat, not believing a word of her lie as Steve spoke up again.

“It is, and you know what else?”

“Uh, I really don’t care,” Robin rolled her eyes while she continued to put on her lip balm.

“You gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta—you just gotta be yourself,” Steve tried to give her a pep talk and you gaped from the backseat before chiming in.

“You do realize you are literally quoting her to her, right?”

“Hey, you stay out of this, and besides, maybe she needs to listen to herself,” Steve glared at you in the rearview mirror before turning back towards Robin, “ever think about that, smartypants? I listened to you and now look at me. Boom. Back in business.” He gestured back towards you as he said it and you rolled your eyes. You were, however, grateful that Robin had gotten involved because you didn’t know how much longer you could take Steve not making a move last summer.

“It’s not the same thing, okay. You ask out a girl like y/n and she says no, big deal. Nothing happens—”

Steve cut her off immediately, “what do you mean ‘nothing happens’? In that hypothetical I lose the love of my life, so yeah that’s a pretty big mother fucking deal!”

“For the sake of the hypothetical—“ Robin began again, “—maybe your ego’s a little bit bruised…but I ask out the wrong girl, and bam! I’m a town pariah.”

“Yeah, I’d buy that, except Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl,” you spoke up, leaning forward to feel more included in the conversation.

“We just don’t know that, do we?”

“She returned Fast Times paused at 53 minutes, 5 seconds,” Steve spoke up and you rolled your eyes, knowing exactly where his mind was going. “Do you know who pauses Fast Times at 53 minutes, 5 seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!”

“Ew!” You and Robin exclaimed in unison.

“Gross, don’t say boobies!” She scolded, causing the boy to just repeat himself like the immature idiot that he was.

“Boobies. Not a big deal, okay? I like boobies. You like boobies. Y/n has boobies—Vickie likes boobies! Definitely!”

“Hey, how about you not bring my tits into this?” You asked Steve, smacking his shoulder. “But I mean, I can’t disagree with him…Vickie definitely likes tits, I mean we have all the evidence,” you added as you turned toward Robin. She rolled her eyes and turned up the radio, deciding she was done with the conversation the three of you were having.

Steve pulled up to Hawkins High, parking briefly to let the two of you out. Before walking to the building you stopped at his door and he rolled the window down.

“Don’t go getting fired while I’m in class, okay?” You warned, smoothing out his vest that was wrinkled because often he couldn’t be bothered to iron it.

“I just wish you could be there, you know? The day just drags on and on and on when I’m working by myself, let alone when I have to work with Keith,” Steve responded, rolling his eyes. Since he had treated Jonathan so shitty when him and Nancy were together, Steve tried to move past the jealous side of himself, but now that he wasn’t even in school with you to see which assholes were hitting on you, it made turning over a new leaf all the more difficult.

“I know, but you are a grown ass adult and you can handle it. Besides, Robin and I will be there after school lets out, so you don’t have to miss me for too terribly long,” you reminded him, leaning into the car to place a gentle kiss on his lips. He smiled into it and you debated just getting back into his car so that you could make out in the break room at Family Video, but Robin’s voice rang out, causing you to jump and hit your head on the roof of the car.

“Hey shit birds, cool it with the PDA, we’re gonna be late,” Robin yelled out, and you grumbled, rubbing the back of your head as you moved away from Steve’s car to join her. You waved a goodbye to Steve as you bit back a smile before you turned and picked up the pace to join your friend.

You really hated pep rallies with the entirety of your being…and you knew that Robin would too if it weren’t for being in the band and getting to stand the whole time next to Vickie. You usually tried to stand next to the band so that you could at least talk to her, but your talk with Steve had slowed you down and the bleachers had filled up.

“Sorry! I can get Davis to try and get someone to move if you want me to. People usually listen to him because he’s borderline terrifying,” Robin apologized, gesturing behind her to the sousaphone player who was built like a tank. Hawkins High didn’t have football, otherwise you were nearly 1000% confident that he would’ve been goaded into joining the team.

“No, really it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you smiled at her and waved her on to go join Vickie in the stands. You started ascending the bleachers, trying to make your way to the back corner as you weaved through people who were cheering on the cheerleading squad (a bit redundant, you felt). Ever since you started dating Steve, you somehow became even less popular at school, which was a hard feat to accomplish. A lot of girls in your grade were still quite enamored with the boy and understandably disappointed that he was no longer available. As such, they quite deliberately chose to take it out on you.

Normally it didn’t really get to you, but recently it had been bothering you more. You had been used to it last year when you watched girls in the hall cast judgmental looks at you as Steve walked you to class…and that was before you were even officially an item. Now, without having Steve to be there to quell your nerves, you just felt lonely whenever Robin wasn’t around either to distract you from immature high school bullies.

You finally made it to the back corner of the bleachers, not without hearing some nasty comments directed at you. You sighed, crossing your arms and closing your eyes as you leaned against the wall.

“I take it you hate these things too?” A voice spoke up to ask you. You turned to see the familiar mop of long brown hair as you realized the voice belonged to Eddie Munson. You had never been in a class with him before this semester but you had become increasingly familiar with him due to the fact that Ms. O’Donell, your physics teacher, had desperately pleaded with you to tutor him so that he could graduate this year.

You had reluctantly agreed, mostly because you didn’t want to disappoint the poor woman, but it had been an exercise in frustration.

“Well, yeah, they aren’t my favorite. Especially since they’re typically full of people who somehow have a shit ton of school spirit but not even a modicum of decency and respect for me, so that is just…totally epic,” you rolled your eyes, frustrated with one classmate in particular, Claire, who had just tried to trip you on your way up the stairs.

“I studied by the way,” Eddie spoke up, when you looked at him with confusion, he continued, “for the physics quiz today? I studied for it.”

Suddenly, your face twisted in panic as you realized that you hadn’t. You’d been so busy with work and Steve and just trying to hold everything together that you had forgotten about the last assessment you had before going on spring break. “Fuck! I forgot about it.”

“Eh, you’ll do fine anyway,” Eddie replied nonchalantly. You were glad someone at least believed in you.

“Dustin’s still doing alright?” You asked the long haired boy beside you. Since Dustin was in high school now, he no longer needed a babysitter, and thus your career, in an official sense at least, had come to an end. You still saw him extremely regularly because Steve and him were still good friends, but you still worried about him. You knew he was a misfit, and being a misfit yourself it made you nervous that he had found himself in a crowd of…well, misfits. You didn’t want him to go through the same shit that you went through. You didn’t want him to be invisible like you.

“Henderson? He’s fucking awesome! Yeah, of course he’s fine,” Eddie replied, laughing as he shoved you in the shoulder. Even though everyone liked to talk about how much of a mess Eddie Munson was, you were glad that Ms. O’Donell’s arrangement had at least shown you that he wasn’t a bad guy. It was nice to have another friend at Hawkins High. “How’s Steve doing?” Eddie asked, not doing at great job at hiding his distaste for the graduate with the perfect hair.

You rolled your eyes at his tone before answering. “He’s great…I just thought dating the son of a bitch would mean that I’d get at least enough status here for people to not treat me like shit,” you chuckled.

Your conversation with Eddie fizzled out as the basketball team entered the gym. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Lucas on the court. He looked happy, so even though he was surrounded by meathead athletes, you couldn’t really be mad. You knew he was smart enough to make good decisions and he still had you all as a support group, so you tried to shove the worry down in your chest.

Jason Carver took the mic and began going on and on as he spoke. Though you really, really didn’t like the kid, you had to give him credit. He sure did know how to give a speech.

“…you know, I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins. So much loss. And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take? In dark days like this, we need something to believe in. So last night, when we were down by ten points at half to Christian Academy, I looked at my team and I said think of Melissa. Think of Heather. Think of Billy. Think of our heroic police chief Jim Hopper. Think of each and every one of our friends who perished in that fire…”

That was when you stopped listening. Not a day went by that you didn’t think of the loss that you had faced. You didn’t need someone like Jason who didn’t know jack shit about loss to explain it to you. “I have to go,” you whispered to Eddie, and before he could respond, you slipped out of the bleachers, telling a teacher that you needed to use the restroom, and darting out the gym doors.

Robin noticed you leaving and quickly set her trumpet down, taking off her shako, which Vickie graciously took before darting down the hall after you.

“Y/n,” she yelled after you trying to catch up but you didn’t slow down, quickly evading her and turning a corner as you wiped tears from your eyes. “Y/n!”

She finally caught up to you, grabbing your wrist to stop you from running away from her. “What’s wrong?” She asked, eyes searching yours in an attempt to make sure you were okay.

“I don’t even know how to explain it,” you choked out, unable to keep your emotions at bay.

“Could you at least try?” Robin asked softly, running a hand up and down your arm to soothe the strong emotions you were feeling.

“I…I’m-I’m just tired of-of people like Jason trying to explain the loss to me. I get it! I know what it was like; I was there!” You stammered. Robin nodded, and you knew she understood what you were going through. You were eternally grateful that you had the support system that you had; you were never alone in your struggle which was both a blessing and a curse. You wouldn’t wish your experience with the supernatural on your worst enemy, so sometimes it was difficult to stomach the fact that your closest friends had experienced it alongside you.

“What can I do?” Robin asked, wanting nothing more than to make it better.

“I just…I think I need to leave,” you cried, wiping your eyes on your sleeve. Robin nodded, leading you out the doors of school to the pay phone right outside. Fortunately, with everyone tied up at the pep rally, there wasn’t anyone to stop the two of you as you put some coins in the telephone. Your fingers hesitated as you thought about who to call, finally settling before dialing the number.

After a couple rings, a familiar voice picked up. “Hello, this is Steve from Family Video, how can I help you today?”

“Steve,” you cried out and immediately he was on high alert.

“Y/n?! What’s wrong?! Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I-I’m at school, but-but I’m just…having one of those days you know?” Steve had been your rock through processing the trauma that your experiences with the Upside Down had brought you, so he very much understood that somedays were just too much for you.

“I need to talk to Keith really quickly, but then I’m going to come and pick you up, okay? You’re not by yourself, are you?” Steve asked, concern lacing his tone.

“No, Robin’s with me.”

“Good, good, good. Can you put her on the phone, baby?” Steve sounded frantic, and if you could have seen him, his anxious behaviors would have confirmed it. There he was, standing at the counter of Family Video, not even an hour into his shift when shit had to hit the fan. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to calm himself down, but knowing that you were upset was enough to keep him from being calm. There was a silence, before Robin’s voice rang out through the receiver.

“Hey.”

“How bad is she?” He cut to the chase.

“Um, I mean…you heard her,” Robin replied, speaking in vague terms so that you wouldn’t be offended by their conversation.

Steve sighed, jotting down a note on a piece of scratch paper, his version of “talking to Keith.” After he scribbled down the words, he refocused on the phone call. “Okay, Robin, here’s what you need to do. Take her to the nurse or something and find some way to get them to send her home. I don’t need her stressing about missing class unexcused, alright? You know how she is about that sort of stuff.”

“Got it. Just head out now, I should be able to get this sorted pretty quickly,” Robin confirmed, hanging up the phone and turning back to you. “Alright dingus number two, let’s get this all figured out.”

***

When Steve’s car pulled up, you felt relief flood your entire body. You wished that discussions of what happened last summer didn’t affect you as much as they did, but sometimes it all still caught you off guard.

The car halted to a stop as Steve quickly got out rushing over to you and scooping you into a tight hug. “Baby,” he whispered into your ear as you melted against him, tears soaking into his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Steve…I-I’m trying so hard, but then-then Jason started giving one of his dumbass speeches and I just lost it.”

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay; you’re okay, I’m here now, alright?” Steve pulled away and put his hands on either side of your face to get you to look at him. There was so much sincerity in his eyes that it almost made you break all over again as you thought about how lucky you were to have him. “I’m gonna take you home, alright?”

You knew he was talking about his house, so you nodded. You thanked Robin and she gave you a weak smile before waving and walking back inside. You were grateful that she had stayed with you, but you felt bad that you had prevented her from spending time with Vickie. Steve opened the passenger door for you and once he was back in his seat, he started driving away from the hell hole that was Hawkins High.

“Steve, I really don’t want you to miss your shift,” you spoke up, looking at him innocently. He could just melt right there with the way that you looked at him.

“Y/n, don’t even worry about it, seriously. I’d much rather take care of you and make sure that you’re okay than be at that stupid job.”

“But Keith already kind of hates you…like a lot. I’ve got my uniform vest in my bag, let me just pick up a shift and I’ll work with you,” you offered. Steve looked at you hesitantly, but upon noticing the way that you had calmed down in his presence, he relented.

“Fine, but you’re not going to lift a finger while we’re working, okay? You’re just gonna sit there and look pretty and I’ll take care of everything,” he replied. He desperately wished he could lean over and kiss you right now but the last time he had tried to do that while driving, you’d scolded him and he almost crashed his BMW, so he decided that it wasn’t worth the risk…he had precious cargo.

You rolled your eyes and turned up the radio, biting back a smile. When you got to Family Video, you threw on your vest quickly, before you both entered the store. Keith stood scowling at the counter, holding up Steve’s sloppily handwritten note as if it was evidence in a crime, though to him it probably was.

“Dude, not cool.”

“Keith, did you even read the fucking note? Clearly it was an emergency,” Steve spat, as he gestured to you. He was tired of Keith being a complete ass all of the time.

“Y/n? Aren’t you supposed to be at school?” Keith asked, his demeanor suddenly drastically changing. Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed, knowing damn well that this dumbass had a fat crush on you.

“It’s a long story,” you sighed, “but I’m here and I’m willing to pick up an extra shift, so you can leave if you’d like.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Keith spoke up, “but you better keep—“

“Keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn’t fuck up. Yeah, yeah, I know,” you sighed and Steve threw his hands up in exasperation. What the hell did I ever do to deserve this shit?

Keith exited the store, so now it was just you and Steve. Friday mornings at Family Video were usually pretty slow given the fact that most people were at work or school, so there really wasn’t much work to do.

“So, have you gotten any more acceptance letters?” Steve spoke up and asked as he began reorganizing one of the shelves. He held his breath as he waited for your answer. Though he wanted nothing more than for you to be able to attend the school of your dreams, he was afraid of what that meant for the two of you and your relationship.

“Yeah, a couple more actually,” you smiled up at Steve. You had a lot of the same fears that he did about the potential of moving away. It was scary to think about trying to stay together through that huge of a life change. And you knew that you would miss him like crazy. But Nancy and Jonathan are making it work, so of course you guys would be able to…right?

“Have you made any decisions yet?”

“Uh, no, not yet. I’m still waiting to get a few decisions back before I make one of my own,” you spoke up, your voice a little small. You weren’t going to tell Steve, but what you were really waiting on was your decision from Purdue. It was close enough that nothing would have to change. You could still see Steve whenever you wanted. You were neglecting to mention this to him, however, because you knew he constantly felt like he was holding you back. He didn’t want you to make your decision based on him, but you couldn’t help but take that into account.

These were the most stilted and awkward conversations the two of you had. You and Steve could talk for hours about really pretty much everything, but as soon as college came up, it was like your ability to effectively communicate went out the window.

It wasn’t long before the phone rang again, and you picked it up. “Hello, thank you for calling Family Video. I’m y/n, how can I help you?” Your retail voice spilled from your lips sweetly.

“Y/n, this is Dustin…Listen, Lucas has to play in the championship game tonight and we need another player for Hellfire tonight, so could you please, please, fill in for him? Just this once?” The boy begged.

“Um, absolutely not,” your customer service voice disappeared as soon as you knew who was on the other line. Dustin had roped you into playing D&D once before, feeling bad for the kids after Mike had come down with a bad cold and couldn’t play. First of all, Dustin had said it wouldn’t take long. Secondly, it had been the most miserable fourteen hours of your life, so there was no way in hell you were about to do it again.

Dustin started complaining over the phone, continuing to beg you to join, before you decided that you didn’t get paid enough for this shit, handing the phone off to Steve, saying “it’s for you.”

“Woah, woah, woah, cool off pipsqueak,” Steve sighed into the phone.

“Steve! Sweet, okay. Dude, I am about to offer you the most kick-ass opportunity that will ever get extended your direction. I mean, I’m talking immaculate storytelling, a badass group of people, more fun than you will ever have in your life. I’m talking—“

“Cut to the chase,” Steve cut the boy off and rolled his eyes.

“Right, yeah, okay. Lucas has to play basketball and we need an extra person for D&D tonight,” Dustin sighed, sounding a bit defeated, no longer attempting to put on the persuasive charm that he had started with.

“No. Can’t. Sorry. I have a date tonight.”

“Just move your date this one time, come on!” Dustin begged. Why did the two cool older kids in his life have to be dating each other? In Dustin’s opinion it made both of you significantly less cool.

“What, to hang out with you and Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson? Uh, yeah, I’ll pass,” Steve responded. You rolled your eyes at the nickname for the poor boy in your class. He really wasn’t that bad, but you weren’t about to lecture Steve about it.

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I have another older male friend,” Dustin retorted, attempting to get under Steve’s skin.

“Ew. Ugh, whatever. Besides, you know, I really dig this girl...who knows, maybe she could be the one,” he added, smiling at you as you beamed right back at him from your perch on the countertop.

“You two are fucking disgusting,” Dustin replied, scoffing.

“No, we’re cool as fuck, dipshit,” Steve shot back. The door suddenly swung open, as a group of three girls entered the store, the bell above the door chiming to its familiar tune. “Oh, I got some customers. Call you back, bye.” Steve hung up the phone, ignoring Henderson’s protests.

“Welcome to Family Video, how can I help you today?” You smiled at the group of girls. They were definitely from Steve’s graduating class, home on spring break already. They cast you a judgmental look before turning to Steve.

“Steve! Oh my goodness! It’s been so long since I saw you last,” one of the girls spoke up. When Steve stood staring, unsure of how to respond, her face fell a bit as she added, “it’s me…Alice.”

“Oh, right…how are…things?”

“Oh, life’s been just so peachy! It’s just, us gals need to have a little fun this spring break…you know how it is,” she laughed flirtatiously. “We were just hoping that you had a good movie recommendation for us.”

Steve looked at you and could tell that you weren’t happy with the way these girls were talking to him as if you weren’t even there, so he spoke up, wrapping an arm around you and hugging you close to him. “Yeah, actually. My girlfriend, y/n, and I went and saw Back to the Future together on our first date, and I would really recommend it. I can already tell it’s gonna be a classic, you know?”

At this, Alice frowned, glaring at you before plastering on a fake ass smile. “Aww, that’s so cute that you two are dating! It’s just so surprising, I never would have put you two together. You always seemed like you’d want to go for the more mature girls…the ones with more experience, you know? But I’m just so so happy for the two of you.”

“Yeah, we are really, really happy. Honestly haven’t met a better person than her. But thank you so much for the well wishes, Alex,” Steve responded with a smirk as he grabbed a copy of the movie from the counter. He knew exactly what he was doing, and didn’t feel a bit bad about the way the girl’s face fell as she looked between her two friends. “So, are you ready to check out your movie or what?”

“Actually, I think we’re going to make other plans for this evening,” she spat, “and it’s Alice.”

“Well, I’m sorry we couldn’t be of service to you today,” Steve narrowed his eyes as she turned around, sauntering out of the store with her two friends following closely behind. You rolled your eyes, but you were grateful that Steve at least recognized that the girls had ulterior motives.

“Thank you for that,” you chuckled awkwardly, putting the copy of the movie back on the shelf. You wished you could tell him that the girl’s words hadn’t gotten under your skin, but that would be a lie.

“She was a bitch in high school anyway. Hasn’t changed a bit…mature, my ass,” Steve grumbled, glaring at her car as they pulled away.

“So, we have a date tonight?” You spoke up, reminding Steve of what he had told Dustin. His words had been a surprise to you.

“Yeah, actually!” Steve beamed, “I was thinking we could go to the championship game for basketball tonight. You know, I just miss some of that stuff about high school sometimes, and I know that you miss seeing the kids as often, so I thought that it might be nice to see Lucas play…even if he is a bench warmer…And we’d get to see Robin! And maybe we could even help her with talking to Vickie and—“

“Steve,” you chuckled, “of course I want to go with you, so you can stop trying to sell me on it. That was very thoughtful of you.”

He moved towards you, grabbing you around the hips and pulling you into him until your hips were flush against his, “besides, I was thinking that afterwards, you could spend the night at mine, and we could…hang out some more.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You had been officially dating Steve for eight months and he still was able to make you weak at the knees with only a few words. Your mind flashed back to what Alice had said, about how you were inexperienced, and you thought about the fact that you and Steve hadn’t…gone all the way. You knew that he wanted to, and at first you were holding off because, even though you knew he changed, you still sometimes worried about his history of being a player. However, now that it had been eight months and you two still hadn’t had sex, you were pretty confident he was going to stick with you. Now your insecurities centered more around the fact that you hadn’t been intimate in that way with anyone before. What if he realized that you weren’t good enough and the spark disappeared? What if he didn’t want you anymore?

“Hey, is anyone in there? Earth to y/n, what’s going on?” Steve joke as he knocked his fingers gently against the side of your head. You giggled and leaned against his chest.

“Yeah, that sounds good to me,” you closed your eyes. He was just so perfect and you always felt like you were seconds away from losing him. He made you feel so comfortable, which sometimes paradoxically put you on edge. You pulled away, running your fingers through his perfect head of hair as you smiled up at him.

“I love you, y/n. I really, really do,” he looked down at you with his big brown puppy dog eyes.

“I love you too, Steve.”

***

Steve placed a gentle hand to your back as he guided you up the bleachers, making sure that you found a spot close to the band so that you could chat with Robin. You had barely gotten to your spots when the principal took the mic, his words ringing out through the gymnasium.

“Everyone now please rise for our national anthem. Singing for us tonight, we have a very special guest. All the way from Nashville, our very own Tammy Thompson!” The audience cheered as she walked into the gym, waving as if she was some sort of celebrity. You gaped as you and Steve looked over at Robin.

She began singing extremely off key, feedback from the microphone resonating through the gym. Steve leaned towards Robin, whispering, “told you…muppet!” You smacked him in the chest, and he looked at you in disbelief as you rolled your eyes.

“Okay, she does sound like a muppet,” Robin whispered back. Vickie laughed beside her and you smiled as she replied, kickstarting a small conversation between the two of them.

Tammy finally finished her screechy, godawful rendition of the national anthem and the game started. It was a nail biter, but you weren’t on edge until a player on your team got injured and suddenly Lucas Sinclair, season long bench warmer, was on the court.

“Oh my god, Steve,” you said, staring wide eyed at the court as you lazily slapped him in the chest to get his attention. He looked at you incredulously, given the fact that he had been paying much closer attention the whole time than you were.

“Let’s go Lucas! You’ve got this buddy!” Steve yelled out. Sure, he acted like the kids were just a massive pain in his ass, which they were most of the time, but he loved them more than life itself. Watching Lucas play, Steve couldn’t really believe the coach hadn’t put him in all season.

There were three seconds left in the game, and suddenly Lucas had the ball. Hawkins was down by one point, and Lucas shot the ball. You watched with bated breath as the basketball bounced around the rim. You grabbed Steve’s wrist, as you watched with a furrowed brow. Is this what it’s like to be a sport parent?

The ball finally sank into the hoop, and you began jumping up and down as the crowd erupted into cheers and applause. You turned and hugged Steve around his neck, needing somewhere to place all your anxiety-turned-adrenaline, now that the game was finally over. Even though Steve was a bit bummed that he hadn’t won a championship of his own, he was damn proud that Lucas had.

The whole basketball team surrounded Lucas, and you quickly made your way down the bleachers. After the team had celebrated and there was finally a break in the crowd, you approached Lucas, pulling him into a hug.

“Lucas, you were amazing! I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks, y/n!” The boy beamed. He had been bummed that Dustin and Mike bailed on him, but seeing you there was an unexpected surprise, considering he knew how much you hated basketball.

“I assume the team will be celebrating?” You asked him with a knowing look. He looked at you sheepishly, which confirmed your assumption. “Look, I’m not going to tell you what to do, but please try and make good decisions. And if you need anything at all, just call Steve, okay? He can pick you up, it down’t matter what time it is, you just call, alright?”

Lucas rolled his eyes, somewhat annoyed at your maternal tendencies, but the way you cared about him still made him feel good, so he decided he’d forgive it. “Yeah, okay, I got it. Thanks again for coming guys,” he added, shaking Steve’s hand as Steve patted him on the back to congratulate him. Lucas jogged off with the rest of the team, leaving you and Steve to head out of the gym together.

Once you got to the parking lot, you saw the Hellfire boys exit another wing of the school and you marched off towards them, ignoring Steve’s protests.

“Hey, guys…how was the campaign? I see you found someone to fill in,” you chuckled as Erica gave you a hug. Despite her sassy attitude about 80% of the time, she could be really sweet on the rare occasion.

“It was awesome, y/n!” Erica beamed as she told you.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it,” you smiled down at her.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the miraculous Ms. Y/n…you missed O’Donell’s quiz,” Eddie spoke up, looking at you with crossed arms.

“Yeah, I wasn’t feeling too well earlier, so I had to leave early,” you didn’t elaborate, “how’d it end up going?”

“It was pretty good. I actually don’t think I failed it this time, so thanks for the help. You know, I’m really fucking determined to graduate this go around.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m glad I could help,” you replied and Steve reached for your hand. You interlocked your fingers with his before you added, “well, we’d better get going…we have an early shift tomorrow, so I’ll see you suckers later.” You saluted with your free hand while Steve grumbled a goodbye and dragged you towards his car.

You got in the passenger seat and as he started it, you could tell he was a little frustrated. “What’s got your panties in a twist, huh?”

“It’s just, I didn’t know you were such good friends with Eddie,” Steve grumbled and you rolled your eyes, chuckling. He looked at you exasperated, in disbelief that you would laugh, but you just leaned in and caught his open mouthed expression in a kiss. He immediately softened at your touch, muttering an apology as you pulled away.

“Ms. O’Donell just asked me to help him with some of his physics shit since he’s dense as fuck. I promise you there is absolutely nothing going on between us…he’s just a friend.” Steve tried to shove his jealousy aside. He knew you wouldn’t lie to him. He just nodded as he drove off, brow still furrowed. You were getting worried that he wasn’t saying anything, but you were terrified of breaking the silence.

When you got to his house, he yanked your car door open, helping you out before grabbing your wrist and pulling you in his house and up the stairs to his bedroom. Normally he was pretty gentle with you, but this time he was a little rougher as he guided you to his bed. You sat down with a huff as he let go, looking at you with wild eyes.

“Steve, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did wrong,” you spoke up beginning to tear up at the way the night was going. His expression softened a bit in surprise, but he reset it, sitting next to you and pulling you onto his lap to straddle him before placing his lips to your neck. He sucked harshly at the skin and you let out a gasp, melting at his touch.

“I’m not mad at you, baby…I could never be mad at you,” he assured you as he breathed across the expanse of your neck, sending a shiver up your spine. “I just get a little jealous sometimes is all…and I want to make it abundantly clear to everyone that you are 100% all mine,” he added as he sucked on your neck again, leaving visible marks and love bites.

You breathed out a small moan that was like music to his ears as he flipped you over so that you were lying down, continuing to kiss across your neck. He began to unbutton the first few buttons of your shirt, placing gentle kisses across your collarbones and down your chest, but your hands quickly darted up to stop him. He immediately let go, looking you in the eyes, searching for what was wrong.

“Steve, I’m sorry…I-I’m just not ready,” your voice cracked as you whispered, your eyes welling up with tears again. You hated disappointing him, and you were worried that he was going to lose interest in you.

“Y/n, please don’t cry…and don’t apologize either. I don’t want to do a damn thing until you’re ready for it, okay?” He assured you while you both sat up, looking you in the eyes with so much sincerity it made you want to cry all over again.

“It’s just….I-I keep thinking about what that girl said at work earlier…she was right you know? I am inexperienced and it’s embarrassing, and I just wish that I could be less weird about all of it and—“

Steve cut you off, “woah, woah, woah! I don’t give a fuck what that girl said. And who cares that you’re inexperienced? I swear that I don’t. Besides, it just means that when you are ready, I get to make sure I really take my time and make it real special for you, okay baby?”

You smiled up at him, leaning in to place a sweet kiss on his lips. He smiled into the kiss as it deepened, before pulling away to look at you again.

“I’m the luckiest guy on the planet, you know that?” You smiled at the praise, before he leaned in to place more kisses down your neck. Life was just so perfect.

Your heart rate quickened at the thought as your breath caught in your lungs. You knew better than to trust things to stay that way…a bad feeling settled in your chest as Steve continued to kiss and nip at your tender skin.

You pushed the thought away as you took a deep breath and allowed Steve to continue kissing you. If shit was about to hit the fan, you’d be damned if you let it cut this moment short. That was a problem for another day, you decided as you melted under Steve’s gentle touch.

***

a/n: Thank you so much for reading! If you wanted an easy way to make me smile, feel free to reblog ;)

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