#van x earn

[whorelaud]

OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (07)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content mature content, nsfw (nothing too explicit, it gets interrupted), suggestive, making out, pet names, unresolved tension, fluff, sexual jokes, desperate rafe (mhmmmm), brief mention of cocaine

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 06 ! 07 ¡ 08

↳ yourusername replied to your story: hey… that’s not very nice :( 

Rafe kissed you. 

It wasn’t a dream, nor was it accidental. Rafe Cameron, whom you marked off limits, kissed you, and hell, did you enjoy every second of it. 

From that moment on, every minute you spent within his presence felt like living on edge; sneaking behind your brother’s back to enjoy his company, aware of the consequences, and the heartbreak that would result out of the truth. 

Liking Rafe was like a calm after the storm, the moment your eyes land on him, time stops, and you forget all your worries. How were you supposed to resist him, when he’s your only escape from reality? The only person who’s ever made your heart rate increase in pace within a span of seconds. 

Getting a casual conversation out of a guy, without it oscillating to something sexual was difficult in this society, however, with Rafe, it was easy. His eyes bloomed with more than just lust, it made all your doubts about finding the one fade, and that alone, would have younger you screaming. 

Because what do you mean there’s a man out there that lines up with everything you’ve dreamed of and more, the puzzle you’ve been missing your whole life, merely for him to end up being your brother’s best friend, someone so forbidden, it burns when his touch lingers.

A bob formed in your throat, one hard to swallow down, that as much as it stings, you chose to bear it, even if it goes against the trust you formed with your brother. You told yourself it was okay, Ryan won’t overreact if he found out, right?

With a few touches, you managed to head downstairs, with everyone rushing you to come out, starting with Ryan, who somehow managed to call you fifteen times in the span of a minute. To your surprise, it wasn’t him driving, though, but Rafe? 

You slightly halted when he greeted you with a smile, one hidden from everyone else’s eyes. A pair of sunglasses hugged the bridge of his nose, covering the glint of cockiness swelling through his gaze. 

Reaching for the door handle, you quickly smiled at the sight of Sarah as she perked up from her seat once she seized sight of you. A grin formed on your lips, joining the girl’s side, completely forgetting yourself in her embrace, that Ryan’s scoldings barely registered in your system.

“Your brother is such a dick,” she joked, eyebrows furrowing with fake annoyance. “I couldn’t even properly get ready ‘cause of him.” 

“Me?” He gasped, irritated by the ‘false’ remark. “You’re the one busy eating your boyfriend’s face!” 

“Why am I getting involved?” John B chimed from Sarah’s side. “I was helping her out.” 

“Yeah?” Ryan muttered in a mocking tone, “How so?” 

“I do not want to know that.” Rafe clicked his teeth, dismissing Ryan’s question with his statement. 

“You shut the fuck up.” Ryan scoffed, a sour expression smeared over his face. “Lending JJ my car? God knows what will happen to it.” 

“JJ’s not a bad driver…” you trailed off, earning a dirty glare from your brother. “What?! Unless he’s drunk off his mind, then you’re good. He was always in charge of Twinkie.” 

“That horrendous Van?” Ryan asked, voice filled with disbelief. “My baby and that ugly thing are two different things, don’t you dare compare them.” 

“Alright man,” John B started, “At least it gets the job done.” 

“Why are you picking a fight with everyone?” Rafe chuckled, pulling out of the driveway. “Sit back and relax, don’t stress your pretty lil’ brain out.” 

“Gross.” Sarah muttered under her breath, nose scrunching with disgust. 

“Can I get aux?” You asked, earning Rafe’s attention as he seeked the chord plugged to the speakers, immediately offering it to you from over his shoulder when it was within his reach. “Thank you.” 

“Mhm.” He hummed, the grogginess in his tone rattling through your chest. 

“Why is she in control of aux?” Ryan perked up at the act, addressing Rafe with his question. “I thought we agreed I’d be in charge.” 

“That’s in bed, baby.” Rafe flashed him a tight-lipped smile, sparing him a glimpse for a second, before his attention was back on the road. His fingers found the curve of Ryan’s jaw, using the tip of the digits to scratch the latter’s chin. 

“Move!” He slapped Rafe’s hand away, lips jutting into a frown. “Why’s everyone ganging up on me today?” 

“‘Kay, stop acting like a bitch.” You started, further getting on your brother’s nerves. “Should’ve stayed home.” 

Rafe’s arm blocked Ryan from shooting off his seat, a glint of amusement smothering through his expression. If one could calm Ryan, it was definitely Rafe. Considering their differences, they get along quite well, perhaps why they’ve made it together far this long. 

The rest of the car ride filled with havoc, as both you and Sarah sang along to the lyrics, while John B sat back and watched, admiring his girlfriend with so much love, you were envious. Oh to openly stare and have it not be a problem; was that too much to ask for? 

A pit of jealousy laid low in your stomach, gaze shifting back to Rafe, whose eyes were glued to the road. Or so you thought, as his pupils caught you staring through the rearview mirror, not breaking the contact in hopes of you noticing him, even for a mere second. 

The action was cut short when Ryan took notice of the situation, eyebrows furrowing with puzzlement as he directed his attention to you in a swift movement. His face pressed to the leather seats, reaching over the dashboard, and flicking your arm with the intent of capturing your focus. 

“Where’s your wallet?” He asked, voice muffled due to the melody playing in the background. 

“My wallet?” You repeated, afraid you heard the phrase wrong. “Why do you need my wallet?” 

“I put my ID in there,” he explained, searching for the object with his gaze. “Figured you’d have it on you.” 

You rolled your eyes, patting around your seat, in an attempt to grab your wallet, instantly coming to a halt as realization washed over. “Wait.” 

“What?” Ryan mumbled. 

“Did I get my wallet?” You asked, the question mostly to yourself. “I think I forgot my wallet.” You stated, peeking down the seats, in case it fell by accident. “You idiot, this is all your fault!” 

“How is it my fault?!” He shot back, “Who forgets their wallet? That’s totally on you!” 

“Yeah, own one then come talk.” You stifled out a sarcastic laugh, crying out with frustration. “This is so annoying, can’t we go back?” 

“That’s a twenty minute drive from here.” Rafe answered, “I’d go back, but that would delay our plans.” 

“Yeah,” Sarah agreed, rubbing soothing circles to the blade of your shoulder. “It’s fine, you can jus’ use my card, baby.” 

“It’s okay Sarah,” you groaned, falling back in your seat. “That’s not necessary.” 

“Oh come on, are you scared I’ll put you on a budget?” Sarah teased, attempting to ease your discomfort. “Don’t worry, I’ll sugar mama you.” 

A giggled escaped your throat at her words, mockingly sticking out your tongue when Ryan flipped you off. While Sarah strived to comfort you, worry yet washed over your expression, contemplating how you were going to spend the next few hours, with nothing but your phone on you. 

The passing few minutes felt like an eternity upon your arrival, quickly joined by your friends once Rafe was all parked. It was fun, despite your friends insisting they’d pay for you, you still refused, shaking your head anytime they offered to buy you something that caught your interest. 

Rafe noticed your shift in mood, cracking a joke every now and then, for a mere reaction out of you. And surprisingly, it worked, the latter managed to squeeze a giggle out of you, ridiculed by the horrible dad jokes he added in between conversations. 

“Is it hot?” Rafe questioned, eyebrows furrowing with concern at the droplets of sweat trickling down your neck. 

“Hmm?” You hummed, lips jutting with confusion. “It’s not bad.” 

“Yeah?” He teased, gaze flickering to your hand, as you patted your neck dry with the gesture. “Want something to drink?” 

“What? No.” You shook your head, admiring while your friends observed the handbags displayed on the counter. “I’m fine.” 

“Hey uh,” Rafe’s voice suddenly broke out, earning everyone’s attention in the process. “We’re grabbing drinks, do you guys want anything?

Your gaze fixed on Rafe with disbelief, taken aback when he tugged your wrist, nodding along to your friends’ requests. Ryan took in the scene with confusion, mind racing with all sorts of thoughts, over why he shouldn’t reach over and yank Rafe’s hold off, forcing the fact that he was his best friend, he wouldn’t do such a thing, and betray his trust. 

And if Rafe saw, he didn’t say a thing, choosing to not acknowledge it as he dragged you with him to the main lobby surrounded by different varieties of fast foods’ restaurants. Rafe let go of your hand, upon standing in line, with you already missing the warmness of his touch, breath hitching when he stood close enough for you to take a whiff of his musky cologne.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Rafe flashed the cashier a polite smile once it was your turn, eyes hovering over the menu displayed on the screens. “Can I get a uhh…” 

You took Rafe's side while he listed your friends’ orders, stiffening when he turned to face you, with the purpose of asking for what you wanted. “I’ll get a milkshake.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, observing the milkshake options on the menu. “What flavor would you like?” 

“Whatever that’s available.” You stammered, clearing your throat as your eyes flickered to where Rafe was looking, trailing off before you muttered your next sentence. “Chocolate’s fine.” 

“We’ll take one chocolate milkshake, then.” Rafe informed the cashier, flashing him a tight-lipped smile as he handed him his card. 

The cashier passed Rafe the receipt, politely asking you two to step to the side, while waiting for your order to finish. You obliged to the request, following in Rafe’s steps as he took a corner, snorting when he plopped his arm over the counter, for the mere purpose of supporting his weight. 

“What?” He chuckled, toying with the straws presented in the cup. “What’s so funny, Bug?” 

“Don’t call me that.” You jokingly huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Is this about your wallet?” He cooed, poking your side with one of the straws. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset.” You repeated, denying the assumption, though the boy had you practically figured out. “You’re annoying.” 

“Yeah, and you’re grumpy.” He scrunched his nose, the gesture playful, teasing you in a way. “Whatever you want, buy it, I’ll pay for you.” 

“I spend a lot of money, Rafe.” You uttered, ridiculed by his words. “Sure you can handle it?” 

“Well,” he leaned down, voice dropping barely above a whisper. “Can you spend as much as I can earn?” 

That earned a scuff out of you, rolling your eyes as you lightly smacked his shoulder, the action rattling a chuckle out of Rafe. Your face flushed with heat , remaining silent to suppress your flustered state from taking over your expression. 

It didn’t take long before you were heading back, with the drinks ceased in your hold, as well as Rafe’s. Your friends were quick to help out, handing each person their order, while they offered you a smile of gratitude in return for your act of kindness. 

Conversation with Rafe flowed like water, lifting your spirits, and cracking a smile of you every time he’d lean down and whisper hushed words into your ears. The action was subtle, you were sure none of your friends picked up on the way you’d tense each time Rafe stood too close, or made his presence known, shamefully letting his gaze flicker to your parted lips while your brother stood a few inches away, unaware of the latter’s intentions, and the tension seeping through the thick air. 

Speaking of Ryan, the boy wandered off, leaving you and your friends behind, though that swiftly oscillated as each of you split into pairs, leaving you with Rafe, who did everything in his power to cut through the silence building up. 

You brushed off his statements with short sentences, your dry responses settling a pang of guilt through your chest, intents far from hurting the latter, only realizing the switch in Rafe’s mood after you glanced up, and noticed the look of disappointment smothered all over his face. 

Your attention fixed on the several fragrance bottles splayed on the shelf, misting the aroma over the paper samples to sniff each one. Rafe stood and watched, whirling your shake (God knows how that ended up in his hold) around with a lack of enthusiasm, failing to hide the fact that he wasn’t interested in what you were doing. 

One of the perfumes piqued your curiosity, spraying it on your wrist to take another whiff, the soft vanilla scent intoxicating your senses. You suddenly turned to face Rafe, a smile spreading across your lips when he halted, lips extending with confusion at your sudden burst of excitement. 

“What is it?” He mumbled, brows pinching in a knot. 

“This one smells so good,” You uttered, taking a step forward, then pausing to ask your next question. “Do you wanna smell?” 

“Sure.” He instantly straightened up, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Without thinking, you moved your arm ahead, offering the boy the patch of perfume sprayed on your hand, the action deemed innocent, catching Rafe off guard as he froze. He took a moment to process how close you were, now merely separated by your wrist as it blocked his vision from landing on your face, and hell, did you look pretty up close, though the majority of your features were covered.

Rafe hesitated, processing the risky ponders wandering through his head with haste, letting his impulsive thoughts take over as his fingers seized control of your wrist, inching it closer to his chin before he planted a gentle peck to the palm of your hand. 

His hold lingered around your wrist, his mouth burning hot over your flesh, and spiraling a rush of adrenaline through your veins. A shuddered sigh barely escaped your parted lips, fluttering your eyes up at the latter, your flustered expression not much of help; smearing a mischievous smile across his lips.

“What are you doing?’You stuttered through a breath, hastily retrieving your hand from Rafe’s hold.

“Smelling it,” he explained, acting as if the action was the most normalest thing ever. “You asked me to smell it, did you not?” 

“I did,” you shot back with frustration, pupils narrowing with the flutter of your chest, feeling your pulse quicken under Rafe’s gaze. “I said to smell it, not kiss it.”

“What’s wrong?” He chuckled, pointing his finger in your direction. “Are you shy?” 

“What?” Your face twisted with fake annoyance, glimpsing around before you lightly kicked his knee. “No, Rafe. What if someone saw you?” 

“I don’t care.” He stifled out a sarcastic laugh, amused by your reaction. 

“Yeah?” You forced your lips into a fake smile, ridiculed by Rafe’s lack of worry. “And how will you explain whatever that was to Ryan, Mr. I don’t care?” 

“He’ll understand.” Rafe mocked, grabbing the perfume you sprayed from the shelf. “How can I hold myself back, when you’re this beautiful, baby?”

There it was, baby. The pet name only made your heart race more, the sound so loud, you heard it echoing through your ears.

A hitched breath knocked out of your chest, taken aback by the sudden boldness seeping through Rafe’s tone, your shyness only encouraging him more. You cleared your throat, grabbing the drink from his hold before facing away, afraid you’d crumble if you stared any longer. 

“Shut up.” You dismissed, faking interest in the purses displayed on the shelf. “Don’t do that again.” 

“‘Won’t make any promises.” He clicked his teeth, grabbing a packaged perfume from next to the various ones on display. “Do you want to get it?” 

“No.” You shook your head, politely refusing with a glimpse over your shoulder. “It’s okay.” 

“Alright,” he nodded, streaking past you, and heading straight towards the line. “We’re getting it.” 

“That’s not necessary, Rafe.” You muttered through gritted teeth, avoiding the weird looks you received when Rafe dodged your attempt at snatching the boxed fragrance. 

While you were stubborn, the latter was twice as stubborn as you were, insisting on buying it, despite you refusing. And true to his intentions, Rafe ends up purchasing the perfume for you, a defeated scoff exiting your throat when he flashed you a sheepish grin, proud of his accomplishment. 

A sigh of relief tumbled past your mouth when you spotted Cleo, along with Pope, taking the scene as an opportunity to escape Rafe’s side; though that wasn’t a choice, with the blond practically gluing to you, following in your steps like a lost  puppy. 

It didn’t take long for the rest to join in, deciding it was a good time to leave upon the stores closing, one followed by another. Ryan contently retrieved his keys from JJ, fetching Pope, Cleo, and JJ, while the rest of you stuck in a group, the ride back filling with chaos, as yet, another karaoke session broke out, excpet this time, it involved lots of heartbreaks. 

A new category. 

The majority of your evening was consumed by the ocean waves rocketing, while you and your friends messed around. You let your worries go for once, heart swelling with happiness, one you didn’t think could be ruined.

Things were perfect, as you reunited with your friends, got to spend your summer vacation with them, and you met Rafe. You haven’t been happier since, it terrified you, heart stinging with horror, because you refused to believe this wasn’t ending on a bad note, hence it was a little too perfect.

The night ended off quite earlier than you had expected, with your friends excusing themselves to bed after movie night. Rafe subtly sneaked a smile your way, mouthing ‘goodnight’ before disappearing off to his room. 

That being said, you strived to fall asleep, resetting your progress every time you’d accidently unlatched your eyes, a huff of frustration escaping your throat in the process. You were too overwhelmed to sleep, unable to suppress the foolish grin masking your lips as what happened earlier stumbles across your mind, the vivid image of Rafe’s expression creating a flustered mess out of you. 

You tried not to think about it, being as quiet as physically possible, to avoid stirring Kiara’s slumber, anything but wanting to disturb her sleep. A random video played on your phone, a mere background noise as your brain, yet wandered back to the situation, zoning out, and fully abandoning the device in your hold. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a ping, attention shifting back to the bright screen, almost gasping when you caught the contact of the sender. 

It was Rafe. (not one person is surprised)

rafe 👍: You awake?

Sent, 12:55 am

You: ?? hello

rafe 👍: Hi baby

Your face flushed with heat, unfamiliar with the latter constantly using pet names, the act surprising, never failing to make your heart flutter. 

You: why are you awake?

rafe 👍: Hmm

rafe 👍: Probably the same reason you are

A laugh stifled out of your throat at the message, hurrying to type back a response.

You: yeah 🤨

You: and what reason must that be

Rafe’s text bubble appeared and disappeared, fingers hesitatingly hovering over the screen, while you awaited the latter’s answer. 

rafe 👍: I 

rafe 👍: I can’t stop thinking about you

rafe: It’s driving me crazy

Oh. 

Oh. 

You: stop being an idiot

You: go to sleep its late

rafe 👍: I’m not fucking around

rafe 👍: Wanna see you so bad

Your eyes fluttered with utmost desire, digging your teeth through your bottom lip, merely to confirm this wasn't a dream. 

You: we’ll see eo tmr 

rafe 👍: You think

rafe 👍: I can wait til’ tomorrow? 

rafe 👍: I can't Yn

rafe 👍: Can I come to your room

You: Huh

You: what

You: for what?

rafe 👍: Js’ wanna see you baby

rafe 👍: Am I not allowed to do that?

You nervously gulped, well aware he wanted more than to just see you; both of you did. 

You: kies asleep

rafe 👍: Okay 

rafe 👍: I’ll be fast

The desperation in his tone squeezes a shy snort out of you, sitting up in bed as you typed out a reply. 

You: don’t come

You: stay in your room

rafe 👍:  What

rafe 👍: Why? 

You: i’ll

You: come to you

rafe 👍: Shit wait

rafe 👍: Are you serious?

rafe 👍: Don’t fuck with me 

You: is anyone by you

rafe 👍: NOo

rafe 👍: No one is by me

rafe 👍: I’m all alone

you: alr

you: im coming

You don’t know whether it was the sleep heaving your eyes, or the desire engulfing your insides,  however, you felt sure of your decision, leisurely pulling the covers off your figure, before you hastily made your way out, with the purpose of seeking Rafe. 

A knock is all it took, with the latter quickly unlatching the door, chest rising and falling with a breath once he caught sight of you. His gaze trailed down to your satin sleep set, perfectly adorning your figure, that holding himself back felt far out of the picture. 

“Hi.” You sheepishly greeted the latter, growing nervous under his gaze. At that, Rafe’s head shoots up, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat. 

“Hey,” he shot back, clutching the doorknob with force. “Come in.” 

You accepted the invitation, steps slow as you let yourself inside, observing the plain furniture, so boring,yet screaming Rafe’s name. “Your room is nice.” 

“Thanks.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his head once he shut the door, eyes roaming everywhere but your face. 

He was starting to regret this, tempting himself when he knows he can’t handle another minute with you this far away, wanting nothing but to seize the distance, cross the now invisible line and fuck it. 

“You’re welcome.” You hummed, lips pursing into a thin line. 

Tension seeped through the air, heaving the atmosphere with lust, desire; all your wants and needs. 

“Why did you want to see me?” You abruptly asked, approaching the door once again, a few feet down from Rafe. A chuckle escaped your lips, in an attempt to lighten the mood. “In the middle of the night, too? You’re not slick, Cameron.”

Mhm, that made things even worse. 

“Do I need a reason to see you now?” He answered you with another question, casually, but deliberately approaching you. “You think I’m that bad?” 

“No.” You whispered, fingers clutching the fabric of your shorts, reminiscing over the memory of his lips colliding with yours after your back firmly pressed to the door, chest immediately swelling with Deja Vu. “It was a joke.” 

“Yeah?” He mumbled, voice dropping to match yours. “You think that night was a mistake?”

“What night?” You stiffened, prior to acknowledging his question, as you’ve done nothing but avoid it over the past few days. 

“The night I kissed you.” He further clarified, his figure swallowing yours as he hovered over you. “You regret it?” 

“Why are you bringing that up?” You nearly choked on your own spit at the confrontation, goosebumps breaking out across your arms when the tip of his fingers lightly traced over your forearm, the sensation like feathers to your flesh. 

“Don’t know,” he replies, vision going blurry. “Wanna know how you feel.” 

A shaky sigh managed its way past your lips, mouth gaping to speak, but instead met with utter silence in return. Rafe’s eyes glinted with keen, seeking an answer out of you; a response to all his problems and more. 

But nothing. 

“I’ll leave.” You started, words far from what you wanted. “It’s getting late.”

Rafe’s face fell at that, chest swelling with disappointment as he shifted to step back, giving you enough space to squeeze through. “Right, you should; ‘s totally my fault for keeping you up.” 

One word. That’s all you wanted to hear; don’t. 

However, you were both idiots, too afraid to express your feelings for each other, hesitating over the possibilities of what if’s.

So what if Ryan found out? 

You like Rafe, so much it stings knowing you can’t have him, your said brother being the reason he’s forbidden. He’s your blood, though, him of all people should know how much this means to you, hence he’s witnessed all your horrific experiences with dating. 

Telling Ryan wasn’t the problem, it was you all along; teetering to make the first move, let your impulsive thoughts win and claim him, move forward and crash your lips on his, it was all on you for putting other people’s priorities over yours. 

Putting yourself first spoke like no other, and that’s exactly what you did as you grabbed Rafe by the collar of his shirt, wasting no time before you collided his lips with yours. 

Rafe’s eyes widened with shock, arms awkwardly hanging to his sides as you captured his bottom lip in between your own, proceeding with the gesture when you angled your head to the side, intending to deepen the kiss. 

Rafe didn’t do anything though, he froze in his spot, not daring to move, even after you mustered up the courage to kiss him. Panic immediately washed over as you pulled away, mouth moving faster than your brain while muttering your next words. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” You apologized, guilt evident in your expression. “I thought you wanted this– I didn’t mean to force anything on you, we can jus’ act like this never happened, I don’t m–”

Your rambling cut short, interrupted when Rafe sweeped you in an eager kiss, the action desperate, seeking closure through it. You contently kissed him back, yelping when his arm found the curve of your waist, applying enough pressure to seize control of your body. 

The latter almost stumbled over his own feet, nearly falling in the process of leading you to the bed. Rafe took action when he noticed your struggle to keep up, hands traveling to the back of your thighs, and before you knew it, the boy scooped you in a swift movement, your legs latching to his sides for support.

Your arms wrapped around Rafe’s neck, moaning as he nibbled the plump of your lip with the graze of his teeth, using your parted lips as an opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, letting the warmth of your spit coat his own. 

His tongue swirled over yours, managing to plop himself on the edge of the bed, all while squeezing and kneeding your ass, chasing after your pleasure with each time you squirmed in his hold. 

“Fuck,” rafe muffled in between kisses, “Taste so fuckin’ good, baby.” 

A moan rolls off your tongue at the praise, mind hazing with despair as Rafe’s hot breath fanned over your face, the warmth tickling your skin, and sending shivers down your spine. Rafe wasted no time, fingers finding the hem of your shirt, the tip of his digits teasingly toying with it.

You whined into his mouth, protesting to the wait he’s putting you through, hips unintentionally rolling down over his crotch in the process, almost folding when you felt him twitch at the gesture. Rafe hissed at the contact, swiftly pressing your hips down in place, the hardon in his pants not being much of help. 

“Don’t fucking do that.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. “God, you’re killing me.” 

“Rafeee,” you cooed, throwing your head back with the intent of arching your back, panties now soaked with your juices. “Feels s’ good.” 

“You’re a mess.” Rafe teased, stifling out a laugh. He purposely halted, testing your limits, and how far you can go without crumbling in his hold. “So desperate for me, aren’t you?.” 

“Fucking do something.” Your nails dug to his shoulders with force, well aware your hold would bruise, already forming red marks with the touch. “Don’t jus’ tease me.” 

“You’re being a brat.” He chuckled with amusement, gaze landing on your cleavage, now half exposed from him groping the delicate flesh. “Thought you were a good girl, baby.” 

At that, your breath hitched, forehead leaning against Rafe’s when his fingers lightly traced over your breasts, the sensation like feathers to your skin. He licked a stripe of your tit, the warmth of his spit coating the outer shell of your boob. 

Rafe took your chest in his hold, action falling short as a knock suddenly erupted through the door, startling both of you out of your haze and despair. You instantly froze, pushing Rafe off to spare him a glance, almost as if to ask what the noise was. 

“Aye Rafe.” The familiar voice echoed through your ears, causing your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach. “Are you in there?” 

“That’s Ryan.” Rafe beat you to speaking, words stating the obvious. 

“No shit it’s Ryan.” You sarcastically whisper-yelled, “What is he doing here?” 

“I don’t know!” Rafe shrugged his shoulders. “I thought he was asleep.” 

Both of you turned with panic when the doorknob twisted back and fourth, indicating the latter was trying to open the door. “Aye come on, open up; I know you’re awake.” 

“Shit, we’re in trouble.” You nervously bit your lip, scrambling to get off his lap. Rafe fixed his shirt, adjusting his position to hide the hardon visible in his pants. “What do we do?” 

“Okay– shit, wait.” Rafe took a breath, observing the room with frustration. “I’ll hide in the closet, you open the door and shoo him away.” 

“It’s your room, dude.” Your face scrunched with disbelief, “I’m the one that should be hiding.” 

“No, yeah, right.” The latter nodded, pacing back and forth. “Where should you hide?” 

“Not the closet,” you shook your head, checking under the bed. “I’m claustrophobic.” 

“Under the bed?” Rafe suggested, eyeing the somewhat narrowed place, though it was slightly bigger than the said closet.

“Okay–” you winced as another thud erupted through the door, rushing to bend down, and slide under the bed. “Be fast, please.” 

Rafe nodded, flashing you a reassuring smile before fixing up the covers, vision now glistening with dimness. You perked up at the sound of the door creaking, groaning when Ryan’s footsteps practically shook the floor. He plopped himself on the bed, with Rafe hissing at the gesture, knowing your brother probably startled you with the action. 

And he did, but that wasn’t the point. 

“What are you doing here?” Rafe asked, sprawling himself next to Ryan. 

“I got some yayo,” Ryan whispered with a chuckle, probably already high by the tone of his voice. “Figured we could smoke it together.” 

“At one past midnight?” Rafe argued. 

“So what?” Ryan shrugged, ruffling his hand in the plastic bag he spread out on the bed. “You’re actin’ as if we’ve never done it before, this is not– wait, what?” 

Rafe paused before responding, face turning pale. “What?” 

“Is that Bug’s phone?” Ryan questioned, smile fading off his lips. “What is my sister’s phone doing in your room?”

Shit, your phone.

a/n all support is v much appreciated!! i honestly have no idea how i got this out bye literally stress wrote almost the whole thing and im surviving off three hours of sleep mind you for the past two days AND i also finished most of this on the plane so feel special... i cherish my plane rides but i put you guys first since ily 😣 that being said i spent the past like eight hours finishing it up HELP yeah sorry to disappoint mama tried her best 💔 nsfw part is not detailed on purpose i want to put my badussy for their first time yeah (it wont be explicit dw) 💪💪

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[lillypad910]

Such a Good Girl

Dom! Eddie Munson x Sub! Girly! Reader

Warnings: (not pre-read well, apologize for some errors, I wrote his half awake) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! smut, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), piv, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), bit of fluff, reader is an "innocent" slut (I'm not sorry about it), pet names (Bunny, Baby), Kinks (breeding, sub/dom relationship, reader has a pile of stuffed animal that he literally fucks her on, have fun lol)

Summary: Eddie sneaks into your window to find you getting ready for bed. But he was other plans for your evening.

A/n: I wrote this half asleep and it is pure filth. I haven't written smut in a HOT minute and this was me kind of getting a practice run to write the smut for a later fic with a certain character reader I fear people are BEGGING from this blog. Enjoy!

If you wanna be tagged when I post ask or comment telling me so!

All Pics from Pinterest!

Eddie parks his car down the road, not wanting to alarm your parents with his van sitting outside. He walks all the way up to your house, jumping your white picket fence and making his way towards the backyard. He knows which window is yours, having snuck in a few times before. He climbs up the lattice on the side of the brick wall of your house, making his way up to your window. He places his feet firmly on the roof that sticks out, looking into your window.

There you are, his beautiful sweet girl, brushing your hair at your vanity. Your cute flowy nightgown makes you look like you stepped right out of a 1960’s magazine. Your window is open a bit, letting in the cool air of the night.

He knocks on the glass, startling you a bit and almost making your drop your hair brush. You turn and immediately smile at him. You walk over and open the window more, letting the rocker inside. “Hi, Eddie.” You giggle as he stumbles in, nearly tripping over your lace curtains. “Hi, sweetheart.” He straightens himself out before closing the window, “you look cute.” Your cheeks flush a bit at the compliment. You aren’t used to compliments yet, but Eddie is determined to make sure you know your worth.

“I’m sorry for coming so late, were you about to go to bed?” He asks, glancing over at the pink comforter with multiple stuffed animals on it. You shake your head, climbing onto the bed and grabbing one of the plushies, holding them close to your heart. It was one he got you, a little bunny with big floppy ears, Mr Flospy is what you named him.

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed, reaching over and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t wanna keep you up, Princess, you need your beauty sleep.” You look up at him, your eyes glistening a bit in the light from your bedside lamp. “But you just got here…” Eddie smiles and holds out his arms, and you immediately tackle him in a hug, Mr Flopsy still in your arms. “I don’t want you to go, please stay.” You nuzzle your nose into his neck, and he hums, enjoying the feeling. “Bunny,” the nickname earns a whimper from you, it’s your favorite, “you said you want me to stay?” He clarifies, leaning you back into your stuffies. You nod, holding Mr Flopsy to your chest.

“Bunny,” Eddie leans over you and kisses your forehead, “have you been a good girl?” You nod again, your thighs pressing together. “Use your words, sweetheart.” “Y-Yes… I’ve been a good girl…!” Eddie loves these moments, your cheeks flushed and beautiful eyes blown. “Hmm,” he leans down and kisses your soft pink lips, he can tell you have on a cherry chapstick. He kisses you a few times, earning little whimpers from you, before moving down your jaw and neck.

“E-Eddie…” you grip at his vest, legs already getting shaky and he hasn’t even done anything other than kiss you. “Bunny, relax, you’re working yourself up.” He runs his palms over your thighs, securing his hips in between them. “Such a pretty girl,” he nibbles a bit at your collarbone, earning a gasp from you, “Quiet, sweetheart, don’t want your parents hearing their little girl being a total slut, do you?” You glance away from him, the blush on your cheeks expanding out to your ears. He knows what you like, what you need.

He lifts your nightgown a little rubbing his ringed fingers over your panties. You grip his arm, not wanting him to pull away. His fingers dip under the fabric, beginning to rub circles over your clit. You swear he can do what ever he wants to you, you’d obey everything he told you to do gladly if this was the reward.

Eddie sighs into you ear, watching you twitch at the attention he’s giving your most sensitive place. His hot breath on your skin makes you shiver, along with the soft but firm circles his fingers dance over your clit. You feel your breath catch, a knot already forming in your stomach. “E-Eddie…”

“God, you’re so easy…” Eddie moves his hand a little lower into your underwear, slowly inserting two fingers in see to you. You grip his arm tighter, a soft gasp leaving your lips that makes him smirk. “What? What is it, Baby…? Fuck, are you drooling?” He places his free hand under your chin and whips away the bit of saliva that leaks from the corner of your mouth, watching you begin to pant a bit just from his fingers curling inside you.

You moan, your hand smacking against your mouth to muffle it. Eddie only smiles wider at this, removing his hand from your underwear, getting you to pout. He’s quick to remove the garment, sliding it down your legs then dropping it over the side of your bed. He places his hands on your thighs, spreading your legs so he can see all of you.

“Fuck, Bunny, you’re dripping.” He lowers himself down, leaving soft kisses down on your abdomen. “So needy,” he kisses lower and lower, before leaving one right on your clit, earning another moan from you.

You reach down and tangle your fingers in his hair as he finally places his mouth to your cunt. God the feeling…

“E-Eddie…!” One hand moves to shove two fingers back inside you as his tongue laps around. He’s learned your body, what you like, and how to work it.

He buries his head into your cunt, sucking on your clit as his fingers pump inside you. You wreath at the feeling, lifting your hips off your bed from the pleasure. He takes this as encouragement, wrapping his other arm under you and moving his fingers faster.

It doesn’t take long before you’re shaking, oozing all over his face. He pulls away and pushes your legs up as he gets closer once more, pressing his clothed crotch to your soaked cunt.

“Fuck, you feel that, Bunny?” Of course you do, his large, hard cock fighting to get out of his pants as he grinds against you. “Do you want me to fuck you?” His question is rhetorical but you still answer anyways. “Please… E-Eddie, please…”

He unbuttons his pants, yanking them down and tossing them away, then the same with his boxers. His cock springs free, earning a soft gasp from you.

God, it looks so good…

“You’re drooling again, Bunny.” But this time he doesn’t wipe away the spit, instead he pulls away from you all together. “Do you wanna suck it?”

You don’t even hesitate as you push yourself out of the pile of stuffed animals, crawling onto your stomach in front of him. You grab his cock, immediately shoving your face into his crotch. He groans as you lick up his shaft, your nose taking in the musky scent. “That’s it, Bunny.”

You take the tip of his dick in your mouth, not wanting to wait anymore. You have to open your mouth a bit wider to fit him, but you love to do so. Eddie combs his fingers into your hair before gripping a chunk, “come on, Bunny, you can do better than that.” He slowly pushes your head down, which you happily take.

Before long your nose is brushing into his hair, his cock deep in your throat as it twitches. You’re drooling so much. You moan, sucking his cock as you hollow your cheeks. You move your tongue skillfully, just like he trained you.

“You’re doing so good, Bunny. Just like that. Such a good girl.” He moved his hips back before thrusting forward, earning a throaty moan from you. You try not to gag, angling yourself just right to where he’s not agitating it.

He thrusts into your mouth again, making your thighs press together. You begin to bob your head with his thrusts, pairing it perfectly so that when he slams back in, you push your head against him too. He gets a bit rough, beginning to thrust faster and harder until you can control the angle anymore. You gag, but don’t pull away, honestly you can’t. His hand holds your head down as he uses your throat like a toy.

And then he yanks you off, your throat sore as you try to catch your breath. He shoves you back into your stuffed animals, before grabbing your legs and lifting them up to your head. You blush, embarrassed at this position. But you don’t have long to think about it before he’s climbing on top of you and rubbing his dick along you.

“Eds…” you moan out as you feel his tip press to your cunt. He wraps his arms around you, locking you in place, before thrusting his hips forward, his cock going deep inside you.

You gasp, your mind blanking as he begins to thrust hard and faster, using your cunt for his own pleasure. You moan, your bed squeaking as you take his cock. “Look at you, taking my cock so well.” He mumbles into your ear.

You pant as you feel him twitch inside you, your cunt already becoming sore from the abusive thrusts. But you don’t care, how could you? Your pussy is being used for what it was made for.

You cum hard on his cock, squeezing around him until you see stars but he doesn’t stop. If anything he’s thrusting harder, pounding you in as you become a panting, moaning mess.

He’s fucking you stupid.

“Such a good girl, taking my dick so deep.” His cock pistons in and out of you, your mind foggy as you just take it. You have to be good and just take it, or you won’t get your reward.

He groans as his thrusts get sloppy, hitting certain angles that’s has you wreathing. “Eddie!”

He’s quick to silence you, one hand quickly wrapping around your throat and giving a good solid squeeze that has you coming undone on his cock again. “I’m gonna fucking breed you.” He groans into your ear. “Gonna fill you up just how you want, fuck you full.”

You’re gasping for air as you cum on his cock again, but this time, he thrusts a few more times before he finally thrusts deep inside you one last time. You feel the warmth of his cum gush inside you, moaning at the feeling. You need him, you need him to fucking ruin you. Imagine what people would say if he got you pregnant? Your family would be furious…

You hope he did.

You both sit there for a while, basking in the post sex glow. He’s collapsed on top of you, pinning you still to your bed. You don’t mind, your arms wrapped around him as his cock is still buried inside you.

He kisses you lovingly, smothering you in them as you giggle. “You’re so pretty,” his voice is horse, but you understand him well enough.

You snuggle into his neck, still a bit dazed. “I love you.” The words slip out so effortlessly, but of course they do. It’s Eddie.

“I love you,” he smiles into your hair, nuzzling into the strands.

Then you hear a door down the hall open. The hall light flicks on. Eddie scurries off you, grabbing his clothes off the floor and hiding behind the door. You wobbly get up from the bed, but you don’t have time to put on your underwear before a knock comes from your door.

“Sweetie? You alright?” Your dad calls from the other side. You take a deep breath, straightening your 60’s nightgown so it’s just covering you. You open the door just enough to pop your head out. “Yes, Dad?” You smile at the older man, trying to put on this innocent look.

“Are you alright?” He goes to lift his hand, placing it against your forehead, “You feel warm, are you catching a fever?” “Oh, no, I…” you try to think of something quick, “I just had a nightmare. Sorry if I woke you.”

You feel Eddie’s cum starting to drip out of your used cunt, and you try to press your legs together a bit to stop it.

“Are you sure? Do you need some water?” He looks over your face once more. “No, no, really, I’m good. Go back to bed, Dad. I’ll see you in the morning.” You give him a smile and he nods before walking off again. You shut your door slowly, hearing it click into the hold.

“Well,” Eddie comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, “You need to be more quiet next time.” You go to turn around but he stops you, holding you in place in front of him. “Oh, Bunny,” he trails his hand down your front, “you’re letting too much out, we can’t have that.”

Oh tonight’s on a be a long night.

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[coldfanbou]

In Plain Sight

Here we go with Chaeryeong. She just can't help herself. Also, guest Yuna makes a small appearance at the end and is just as big a perv as Chaeryeong.

Length: 2k

Chaeryeong X Mreader

A little past noon, you took the girls out shopping, except for Chaeryeong, who had chosen to stay home instead. The shopping trip was for Yuna more than it was for Ryujin and Lia; while both women could do some shopping, Yuna was the one who loved it. She dragged you along to every store, looked through every rack of clothing, and tried on everything she liked. It was a tiring experience for you, but, at the very least, it was something you had to do only every few months, or Yuna would start to complain. 

Once you were done with shopping, the drive home, and the girls chatting in the van's back seats over Yuna’s mountain of bags, it was all going smoothly until you hit a traffic jam. Yuna was the first to complain, stomping her feet against the floor. “Why aren’t we moving?!” 

“We’re in traffic, Yuna!” You’d yell back at her, earning you a pout from the maknae,

“There was no need to yell,” she says quietly, making the others laugh. 

At the dorms, Chaeryeong glances at the clock and lets out an exaggerated sigh. You and the others had been absent for what felt like an eternity. She whips out her phone and dials your number: “Manager! When are you getting back?” She playfully whines, her impatience laced with humor. 

You laughed at her, “We hit some traffic, Chaeryeong.” You stare out the window, a line of cars piled ahead. “It’ll probably be another hour or so. We’re piled up behind a lot of cars, and we’re barely moving.” You hear Chaeryeong huff and hold back another laugh.

“Alright, but don't take forever, " she says before ending the call. Chaeryeong rises from her bed and heads to the living room. “Another hour to myself,” she groans, settling on the sofa. She scrolls through her phone, wondering what to do, when she thinks, “They won’t be back for an hour… maybe I should…” A naughty thought worms its way into Chaeryeong’s mind. She purses her lips and heads back to her room, searching the back of her bottom drawer and pulling out a ruby-red dildo. She pauses for a moment and places the dildo on the counter, stripping herself down before grabbing it again. Chaeryeong smirks as she hurries back to the living room. 

Chaeryeong lays on the couch, searching for porn with one hand as she holds the dildo with the other, her tongue swirling around the head as she prepares. Once she finds a video she likes, Chaeryeong settles in and brings the dildo between her lips. She coos and shuts her eyes for a moment, letting the pleasure flow through her body before focusing intently on the video. The young woman runs the dildo between her legs, coating it in her nectar, and once she sees the woman in the video getting fucked she follows along, pushing the dildo deep into her cunt and filling the room with her moans. Chaeryeong makes the toy disappear inside her, ensuring every inch is in her before pulling out and ramming it back into herself. She follows the pace of the video, moving slowly when the actor does and fucking herself senseless when she sees him going wild. As time went on, Chaeryeong stopped focusing on the video, dropping her phone and focusing her energy on fucking herself.

Chaeryeong grabs at her breasts, pulling on her nipple as she moves the dildo in and out of her cunt. She feels her climax approaching and arches her back, moaning loudly. She speeds up, her face becoming flush and skin sweaty as she pushes closer to her orgasm. “Just a little more,” she moans, feeling a tightness in her core. “C’mon,” Chaeryeong whines as she pushes the dildo deeper inside. Her hand practically slapping against her pussy as she continues to fuck herself.

Just then, she hears the sound of the doorknob jiggling and grabs the throw blanket on the couch, covering her naked form. Chaeryeong scrambles to grab her phone, changing the screen from the porn she was watching to Instagram. “We’re back!” Yuna yells as she barrels through the door, heading to her room. You walk closely behind her, carrying a mountain of bags. Chaeryeong gulps as everyone moves through the dorm, barely paying her any attention. 

Yuna swings back to the living room after you’ve placed her bags in her room and throws herself on top of Chaeryeong. Her weight forces Chaeryeong down and pushes the dildo deeper inside the young woman; Chaeryeong feels it rub against her cervix and bites her lip to keep from moaning. “Did you miss us, Chaerry?” Yuna asks, bouncing on Chaeryeong lap. 

Chaeryeong nods, “Mhm,” she hums, responding the only way she could. Her body was tingling, and Yuna kept bouncing on her lap, making the dildo move inside her. 

“I found so many pretty clothes today; you should have come with us.” Yuna cheers, grabbing Chaeryeong’s hands. The older of the two presses her elbows against her sides, keeping the blanket in place as Yuna chatters about what she bought. “You would’ve loved one of the dresses we saw. Wait here, I’m going to change into a few outfits and show you how I look.” Yuna said, getting off Chaeryeong’s lap and heading to her room. Overhearing the conversation, Ryujin and Lia quickly made their way into their rooms and shut the doors, refusing to be spectators for another one of Yuna’s fashion shows. In their rooms, they blasted music and locked their doors, refusing to become involved in any way.

You walk into the living room and notice Chaeryeong sitting on the couch, squirming under the blanket. You know Chaeryeong, you know what she likes. You approach the young woman and place your hand on her forehead. “You’re pretty hot, Chaeryeong. Are you sick?” 

She shakes her head, “I’m fine, it’s…just a little stuffy in here.”

You chuckle and press down on her lap, forcing the dildo to move inside her. Chaeryeong squirms under your touch. You get by her ear and whisper, “You were masturbating again, weren’t you?” You watch a crimson blush appear on her face. You lean down and kiss her neck, “Go on already, Chaeryeong.”

“Manager, please fuck me,” The young woman whispers, desperate for your touch now that you are offering.

You pull off the blanket covering Chaeryeong’s body and glance at her, noting the red dildo in her pussy. You slide your hand down her slick body until you reach her cunt; you grab the base of the dildo and fuck her with it. Chaeryeong bites her lip, trying to keep her voice down as you attack her body.

Nipping at her neck and teasing her with a slow fucking, Chaeryeong begins to whimper, wanting more from you. She reaches down to your pants, rubbing your growing bulge and begging for you. You figure that Chaeryeong had probably been denied the chance to cum and speed up your thrusts, moving the dildo in and out of her wet cunt like a machine. 

Chaeryeong’s eyes shoot open, and she opens her mouth, gasping as the tension she’s feeling gets broken down, and she cums on the couch. You continue to pump in and out of the young woman, her voice eventually breaking through, “Oh God,” She groans, feeling her muscles tighten as her orgasm rocks her. You drive the dildo inside her one final time before slowly pulling it out and tossing it onto the couch. 

You move Chaeryeong into a sitting position and take a seat beside her, pulling out your cock. Chaeryeong weakly reaches over, grabbing your shaft and sliding her hand along it. “There’s a better way to do this, Chaeryeong,” you whisper into her ear before grabbing her waist and placing her on your lap, your cock between her legs. You press her legs together and move Chaeryeong along your cock, as if she was a toy.  The tired woman groans as she feels your warm cock between her lips. 

“I want it inside, put it inside,” she whines.

You line yourself up with Chaeryeong’s entrance and hold her in place. She tries to lower herself, but you keep her from moving. “Not yet, Chaeryeong.”

“Manager, please,” she whines, “Please fuck me; I want your cock inside me,” she begs. You feel a sense of satisfaction hearing Chaeryeong beg. You drop her onto your cock and thrust up, burying yourself inside the young woman’s tight cunt. 

She thanks you repeatedly as you thrust into her. Chaeryeong bounces on your cock after you let go of her waist, riding you with enjoyment as your cock fills her up. You move your hands up to her breasts, squeezing the modest mounds and pinching her nipples, knowing that she loves it. Chaeryeong moans getting louder only prove your thoughts. You let Chaeryeong ride you for a couple of minutes, enjoying the sight of the young woman fucking herself on your cock. 

Soon enough, though, you wanted to ravage her. You make her kneel on the couch and take her from behind, spanking her ass as you drive your cock deep into her. Chaeryeong hummed, loving every hit. Her moans slowly grow louder, and your bodies continue to clap against each other. 

As you’re fucking Chaeryeong, Yuna comes back into the living room, her initial shock replaced by arousal. Her eyes are glued to the action as she watches Chaeryeong moan and enjoy being fucked. She slips her hand down under her shorts, touching herself while you pound away at Chaeryeong’s body.

Chaeryeong’s walls begin to tighten around you. “I’m cumming,” she groans. Chaeryeong collapses onto the couch, her back arched and allowing you to go deeper into her cunt. You wrap Chaeryeong’s hair around your hand and pull her head back as you thrust. Chaeryeong stares right at Yuna, gasping. Being watched by Yuna makes her cum instantly; her body shakes as she cums on your cock. You pull Chaeryeong’s body against yours, letting Yuna take in the sight of her member’s naked body. You force Chaeryeong to look at Yuna and watch the maknae finger herself.

You move your other hand to her clit and toy with it as you continue to ravage her. The pleasure is overwhelming, and Chaeryeong’s body shudders against yours. Her walls clamp down around your cock as she cums a third time. Her juices squirt out onto the couch and floor, and you both watch as Yuna’s knees grow weak and her shorts become darker as she cums herself. You smile and turn Chaeryeong’s head, kissing her before picking her up and taking her to her room. 

Yuna kneels in the living room, recovering from her orgasm, as she spots Chaeryeong’s dildo. She crawls over to it, taking it in her hands and stroking it. Yuna hears the muffled sounds of Chaeryeong’s moans coming from her room and walks over to the door, pressing her ear against the door and listening. The temptation is too great for the young woman, and she drops her shorts and panties to her knees, pushing Chaeryeong’s dildo inside her and fucking herself as she listens to your session with the older woman. Yuna initially imagines herself in Chaeryeong’s position, but then her mind wanders to watching the action instead. The idea turns her on more than being fucked herself, and Yuna cums as she imagines the sight of Chaeryeong’s naked form cumming in front of her. Yuna presses herself against the door for support as she drives the dildo deeper into her, her thoughts filled with Chaeryeong’s body being taken by you. Yuna drives herself to an explosive orgasm, cumming just as Chaeryeong cries out from her climax.

You knew Yuna was outside and considered inviting her in, deciding against it. You wanted to see Yuna act on her desires and come in herself. So, for now, you enjoyed your time with Chaeryeong, fucking the young woman as you liked and taking her in any position you desired.

[ladysharmaa]

Swim

bridgerton family x sis!reader

summary: when the youngest Bridgerton is playing in the garden with her siblings, she falls into the lake, not knowing how to swim. Realizing the accident, her older brother runs to save her

requested: yes

warnings: drowning

It was a hot day in the countryside, the heat almost unbearable and most of the animals seeking shelter in the shadows. The Bridgerton family was at Aubrey Hall, however the younger ones were dissatisfied with how the day was going. Daphne was away with her husband, Benedict had locked himself in the art room, consumed by a burst of inspiration, and Colin was still traveling through Europe. Eloise was visiting Penelope, and Lady Bridgerton was engaged in a lively chat with the other ladies of the parish.

"Anthony!" Y/n called out for the only brother left. However, she was also unlucky when she saw him hunched over paperwork in his study, his brow furrowed in frustration.

The youngest Bridgerton sighed in annoyence, everyone was busy except her three older siblings. However, their mother had forbidden them to go out and play in the garden without the surveillance of any family member, keeping them dry all day reading until they got tired of lying on the sofa, vanning themselves.

"Y/n! How many times do I have to say that you can't walk into my office like that?! It’s not proper." Anthony scolded her, he was also frustrated with the work that was piling up, the heat and his youngest siblings who couldn't seem to stop bothering him.

“The door was open…” Y/n muttered, only to earn a sharp glare. “I’m sorry, brother. But Hyacinth, Gregory, Francesca, and I are so bored. It’s unbearable indoors, and we want to play outside.”

The older man ran his hand over his forehead, taking a deep breath to control his impatience and not take it out on his little sister. The truth was that the heat wasn't helping for his patience.

“You know what?” he said, exhaling sharply, “Go. Go play outside. Just don’t disturb me again.”

"But mother said—”

"You'll be fine." Anthony waved a hand in the air, dismissing what the girl was going to say, his attention already focused on the documents. "Just don't get too close to the lake and if you need anything, fetch for a maid."

"Are you sure?" Y/n questioned hesitantly, knowing these weren't the rules Violet imposed.

"Off you go." the Viscount muttered, motioning for her to leave and close the door.

“Of course, brother.” she left in silence, closing the door.

She returned to her younger siblings with a bright smile, though a flicker of uncertainty lingered. "We can go!" she announced, and their faces lit up. The four of them dashed to the garden, their laughter ringing out as they burst into the open air.

The garden was Y/n’s favorite place, a haven of color and life. The vibrant flowers—roses, tulips, and daisies—lined the pathways, their sweet fragrance mingling with the warm summer breeze. A fountain bubbled gently at the center, its soothing trickle blending with the cheerful quacks of ducks paddling in the nearby lake. Towering trees offered patches of welcome shade, their leaves rustling softly as if whispering secrets to the wind.

Gregory raced to the fountain and splashed water at his sisters, eliciting squeals of surprise. The girls retaliated, sparking a playful water fight. The cool droplets against their skin brought much-needed relief from the sweltering heat, and their laughter echoed across the garden.

Hyacinth soon grabbed a small ball, and the group shifted to a lively game of catch. When Gregory threw the ball to Y/n, she was momentarily distracted by a pair of butterflies flitting gracefully nearby. The ball slipped through her fingers and rolled into the lake.

“Oh, no!” Y/n exclaimed, spinning around to face her siblings. “Anthony said the lake was off limits!”

“That was your fault, Y/n!” Gregory shot back, folding his arms. “You were distracted! Just go get the ball. Nothing will happen, and we can keep playing.”

Hyacinth frowned, tugging at Y/n’s arm nervously. “Be careful,” she whispered, glancing anxiously at the shimmering water. Francesca stood silently, her face a mix of worry and curiosity.

Y/n hesitated, looking between her siblings and the ball floating just a little too far from the edge of the lake. “Alright,” she finally said, though her voice trembled slightly. “I’ll get it, but don’t tell Anthony or Mama.”

She carefully made her way to the edge of the lake, the grass beneath her feet slippery and damp. The ball bobbed lazily on the water’s surface, taunting her. Stretching out her arm, she leaned forward as much as she could without stepping into the water.

“Just a little more…” Y/n muttered to herself, her fingertips brushing the edge of the ball. But the ground beneath her shifted suddenly, and with a startled yelp, she lost her balance. Her arms flailed as she tumbled forward, plunging into the cold water with a loud splash.

“Y/n!” Hyacinth screamed, her hands flying to her mouth as she watched her sister vanish beneath the surface.

“Y/n! Get up! Stop playing around!” Gregory shouted, his voice wavering as panic set in.

But Y/n wasn’t playing. The moment she hit the water, she remembered she didn’t know how to swim. Her brothers were always making the promise they would teach her how to swim, but they were always busy.

The weight of her wet dress dragged her down, and she struggled desperately to keep her head above the surface. Her hair was in front of her eyes, which was only adding to her panic. Her siblings were screaming behind her, but she couldn't do anything. She gasped, swallowing water instead of air, her arms thrashing uselessly.

“I-I can’t—help!” Y/n choked, her voice barely audible over the splashing.

Francesca started crying, while Hyacinth grabbed Gregory’s arm. “Do something, Gregory!” she pleaded, her voice high-pitched and trembling. "Help her!"

“I—I don’t know what to do!” Gregory stammered, his face pale as he watched his sister struggle. “We need Anthony!”

The three of them began screaming at the top of their lungs. “Anthony! Anthony! Help!”

Inside the house, Anthony sat at his desk, brow furrowed as he tried to focus on his work. But the distant sound of frantic shouting made him freeze. His siblings’ voices pierced through the thick walls of Aubrey Hall, each cry laced with panic.

“Anthony! Help! Y/n, swim, please!”

He was on his feet in an instant, the paperwork long forgotten. His hands were trembling and he was having trouble taking a breath in. Memories of his father dying were playing in his brain. He couldn't lose his younger sister, he wouldn't survive. He believed no one in the family would. Y/n was a ray of sunshine, she had the power of making him smile even in his darkest days.

Racing out of his study, he bolted through the house and into the garden. The sight that met him stopped his heart for a moment—Y/n floundering in the lake, her siblings screaming helplessly at the edge.

“Y/n!” Anthony roared, sprinting toward the water.

Without hesitation, he dove in, the cool shock of the water biting against his skin. His powerful strokes cut through the lake as he reached her, wrapping one arm securely around her chest to keep her head above water. “I’ve got you, Y/n! You’re safe!” he gasped, pulling her toward the shore.

Y/n coughed and sputtered, clinging tightly to Anthony’s arm as he hauled her out of the water and onto the grass. She collapsed onto her side, shivering and coughing up all the water trapped in her lungs.

“Y/n!” Hyacinth sobbed, rushing forward to kneel beside her. Gregory and Francesca hovered close, their faces streaked with tears.

Anthony knelt next to his youngest sister, his hands gently brushing the wet hair from her face. “What were you thinking?” he demanded, though his voice cracked with a mix of anger and fear. “I told you to stay away from the lake!”

“I-I’m sorry,” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I was just trying to get the ball…”

“Forget the ball!” Anthony snapped, though the harshness of his words softened as he saw the guilt in her eyes. He sighed heavily, pulling her into a protective embrace despite her soaked clothes. “You scared me half to death, Y/n. Don’t ever do that again.”

“I won’t,” she murmured, burying her face in his shoulder. “I promise.”

Anthony held her tightly for a moment longer before pulling back and looking at the other three. “And you lot,” he said, fixing them with a stern glare, “should have come to me the second something went wrong. You don’t handle things like this on your own, understood?”

“Yes, Anthony,” Gregory muttered, his head bowed.

“I’m sorry, Anthony,” Hyacinth sniffled.

“Let’s get you all inside,” Anthony said, scooping Y/n into his arms. “Y/n needs to change out of these wet clothes, and all of you need to stay out of trouble. And don’t think this means I’m letting any of you off the hook when I tell Mother about this.”

The siblings exchanged nervous glances but said nothing. For now, they were just relieved Y/n was safe.

"And go get Benedict for me, please," Anthony sighed, tightening his protective hold on Y/n, who rested her head against his chest. Just like she used to when she was a baby, seeking comfort and safety in her older brother’s arms.

The Bridgerton siblings immediately sprang into action, not wanting to further anger their eldest brother. Gregory and Hyacinth bolted toward Benedict’s art room, their small footsteps echoing through the halls. Meanwhile, Anthony called for the maids, handing Y/n over gently and instructing them to draw her a warm bath and help her change into fresh clothes. Once she was seen to, he retreated to his room to rid himself of his soaked garments.

Later, Y/n was tucked into her bed, warm and safe, her cheeks flushed pink from the warmth of the bath. She had drifted off to sleep, her breathing soft and steady. Anthony sat in a chair beside her bed, his elbow resting on his knee as he leaned forward, his eyes locked on her small, peaceful frame. Every slight rise and fall of her chest reassured him she was still there, still breathing.

Beside him, Benedict sat in quiet solidarity, his hand supporting his chin as he watched his older brother wrestle with his thoughts.

“I thought we were going to lose her,” Anthony whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “She was screaming, Benedict. She was drowning, and I didn’t know if I’d reach her in time.” His jaw tightened, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “All because none of us had the bloody sense to teach her how to swim.”

“It’s not your fault, Anthony,” Benedict said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “She’s okay now. You saved her.”

Anthony shook his head, his eyes never leaving Y/n. “She asked me to let them go outside. I said yes because I was frustrated she was interrupting me. I didn’t think, Benedict. I didn’t think about the lake or the rules or how dangerous it was. I let her go because it was easier for me, and I put her in danger. That’s on me. I was irresponsible.”

Benedict’s hand squeezed his shoulder, grounding him. “You made a mistake, Anthony. But don’t forget, when it mattered most, you were there. You pulled her out of the water and you’re here now, making sure she’s safe. That’s what being the eldest means. You can’t be perfect all the time.”

Anthony let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in the chair. “I don’t have the luxury of mistakes. Not when it comes to them. Not when it comes to Y/n. I should’ve been better.”

Benedict paused for a moment before leaning forward, his tone shifting to something lighter, more familiar. “You know, Anthony, this might be the first time I’ve ever seen you admit to not being perfect. I’m almost proud of you.”

Despite himself, Anthony let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “Not the time for jokes, Benedict.”

“Come on,” Benedict smirked, “you’ve been brooding for hours. She’s going to wake up and see that same grumpy expression, and then we’ll have a whole new mess to deal with.”

Anthony gave him a sidelong glance, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward slightly. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

Benedict leaned back, feigning a look of triumph. “I’ve been told.”

A small, sleepy voice interrupted their exchange. “Anthony? Benedict?”

Both men snapped their attention to Y/n, who was stirring in her bed. Anthony leaned forward immediately, brushing a hand over her forehead. “I’m here, Y/n. How are you feeling?”

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him with a mix of guilt and relief. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Anthony’s heart clenched. “You don’t need to apologize, sweetheart. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should’ve been paying more attention.”

“You saved me,” she said softly, her small hand reaching out to grab his. “Thank you.”

Anthony squeezed her hand gently, his voice thick with emotion. “Always, Y/n. Always.”

Benedict leaned in, his tone playful. “And just so you know, next time you want to cause this much chaos, at least let me finish my painting first.”

Y/n let out a small, tired giggle, and Anthony finally allowed himself to relax. His little sister was safe, and he would make sure it always stayed that way.

[41nyl]

— KTH FIC RECS (m.)

tw; dubcon/noncon, stalking, horror, explicit content.

notes; i really wish there were more yandere! kth fics on here bc he's just so literature old money van gogh art obsession dead poets society ldr ultraviolence album romanticism era coded and a perfect muse, but here are my top favs;

@pheresphone this is for you!

—𐙚

poison apple @jooniyah

— series; moneylender au.

socialite families. mc's marriage with myg spirals downward when the latter is indebted to kth. a myriad of dark turns force mc into a marriage with her husband's killer.

beastly gods @lemonjoonah

— series; hydrid au.

for three generations, people religiously stop themselves from venturing outside their village. curious about the life beyond, mc befriends the wrong company who she thinks will help her cross the border. naivety costs her hopes of freedom, earns the village's beastly deities their most prized possession: her.

cut @deepdarkdelights

— oneshot; moviestar au.

noob actress mc is excited to get casted with a phenomenal moviestar for her first big film project. things take a turn when she realises the script is eerily similar to her experiences. overnight success is a scam, or comes with a price.

the good boy @jkeuphoriadreamland

— series; netflix series 'you' au.

mc falls for the cute librarian faster than she picks books to borrow. what she doesn't realise: looks can be deceptive.

covet @bang-tan-bitches

— oneshot; yandere!idol!kth (ft. pjm)

coworker takes mc to a meal with her boyfriend and his bestfriend. things take an eerie turn when they set their sights on her.

polar night @amoc94

— series; mafia x ballerina au.

ballerina mc struggles with the image of perfection. she aches to be loved by the boy who stole her innocence, blissfully unaware that she's the object of desire for a deranged, powerful man.

feel free to recommend ur fav yandere!kth fics in notes/asks/DMs! 𐙚

[alisonsfics]

lovers to exes, to lovers? part one

pairing: ex!tyler owens x ex!reader

summary: who ever heard of exes being civil after a breakup? not you and tyler. which makes it interesting when you both end up in the same town.

word count: 2.7k

part 2

You were abruptly woken up by Javi shaking your leg. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the light. “We’re here,” he told you, before getting out of the truck.

Along with Javi and the rest of his team, you were chasing a string of storms in Oklahoma. You were Javi’s second-in-command. You had graduated top of your class, so you were the brains behind the operation.

The team had to drive to Oklahoma straight from a meeting in California, so you had crawled into the back seat for a quick nap.

You sat up and stretched your arms. Out the windows, you saw a rundown motel and storm chasers camped out.

You climbed out of the truck to stretch your legs after the long drive. You ran your fingers through your now-messy hair. You smoothed it out and pulled it up into a high ponytail. You met Javi at the back of the truck, where he was checking on the equipment. “Thank you for driving.” You mumbled, sleepily. He chuckled at how you were struggling to keep your eyes open. “I always drive, but you’re welcome.” He told you.

All of a sudden, you heard a blaring radio down the road. Everyone turned to look and saw a dirty truck and a camper van pull into the parking lot.

“Somebody’s overcompensating,” you muttered grumpily, earning a laugh from Javi. You turned your attention back to your laptop.

There was a commotion as the truck stopped in the parking lot. As cheers erupted, you glanced over your shoulder to see what the fuss was about.

The last thing you expected to see was Tyler Owens, your ex-boyfriend, tipping his cowboy hat to an adoring crowd.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” You complained, crossing your arms. Javi looked up to see what you were looking at. “Oh, isn’t that the Tyler Owens guy? He’s always seemed a little cocky to me.” Javi said.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, hoping you’d wake up and it would be a dream. “Yeah, it is. But, it’s also Tyler Owens, my ex-boyfriend.” You added. Javi’s attention completely abandoned the data he was reading. His mouth hung slightly open.

“I’m sorry, wait. You and Tyler Owens dated? And you’ve never told me this?” He asked, in shock. You slowly nodded your head. “We all mistakes, and oh look, mine is walking this way.” You said, rolling your eyes.

Tyler couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He hadn’t seen you in person since you both broke up. He didn’t know if he should feel as excited to see you as he did. He wasn’t hoping for a heartfelt reunion by any means, but you always knew how to push his buttons.

You and Tyler butted heads really well. That spark and chemistry is why you started dating in the first place. There was a certain passion to the way you both would bicker with each other.

But, it also ended up being why you both broke up. Because you both were too young, too immature, and also too competitive for your own good.

“I didn’t know you were chasing in Oklahoma?” You asked, crossing your arms as Tyler walked up to you. He rested his hands on his hips and took all of you in. “You not happy to see me?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Oh, absolutely thrilled. I can’t wait for you to copy my work and then take all the credit, just like you did in college.” You said, giving him a sarcastic smile. Tyler took another step towards you.

Javi was starting to get very uncomfortable with the tension between the two of you. The electricity flowing between you both was almost palpable.

“Only time I ever copied you was when I ran out of time for that project because I’d spent all night with you doing…well, you remember.” He said, winking at you. Your stomach tightened as the memories of that night went flooding through you.

Some kid in your class had tried to ask you out. You obviously told him you were dating someone, but the whole thing got under Tyler’s skin. He showed up at your apartment determined to show you that you were his.

Tyler may have been a pain in your ass most of the time, but he knew exactly what he was doing when it came to sex. He knew your body better than anyone else, still to this day.

“Tyler, this is Javi. We work together. Javi, this is my annoying ex-boyfriend, Tyler.” You said, trying to change the subject.

Tyler smirked proudly to himself. He knew his words had gotten under his skin. He could see the way you squeezed your legs together, trying to ignore the familiar aching. Tyler was always good at reading you. He knew what every little expression meant.

“Yeah, man…umm nice to meet you. I gotta get going though.” Javi said, quickly excusing himself from the awkward situation.

Tyler watched him as he left and then turned his attention back to you. “You really not happy to see me, sweetheart?” He asked, taking another step towards you.

“Don’t call me that, Tyler.” You snapped, sitting down on the tailgate and grabbing your laptop again. You hoped he’d realize you were busy and leave you alone.

He didn’t.

Tyler hopped up on the tailgate and sat beside you. “You used to like when I called you that. You said it was a part of my cowboy charm. I used to just have to call you sweetheart, then you were in my arms like that.” He said, snapping his fingers.

You rolled your eyes at his clear attempt to get you focused on those long nights again. He knew it was one of the best ways to annoy you. He softly planted his hand on the small of your back, leaning in towards you.

“It’s called maturing, Tyler. Maybe you should try it sometime.” You told him, pushing his hand off of you.

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Oh really? You’re the mature one?” He snapped. He was actually surprised to hear the words come out of your mouth. You were just as immature as he was.

“I’m certainly more mature than the guy who made a YouTube channel of him chasing tornadoes as a way to get girls.” You said, snarkily.

He scoffed at the implication. “You know damn well that I care about my work just as much as you do. The girls are just an added benefit, and if you wanted to be one of them so badly, you could just ask. And that’s not what I was referring to, Ms. Maturity.” He said, looking at you with a knowing glance.

You focused your attention back on your laptop because you knew what he was going to say. It wasn’t your proudest moment.

“Yeah, look who’s all quiet now. You don’t want to talk about how the day after we broke up, I went to your apartment to apologize, and you’d slept with my best friend? That seem mature to you?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. That was probably the only grudge that Tyler still had to this day.

You pushed your laptop to the side and turned to face Tyler. You could see how upset he was. His jaw was clenched, and his face was starting to turn red. “For God's sake, Tyler. We’ve hashed this out a million times, and I’ve told you how sorry I was. It was a drunken stupid decision. So, no matter how pissed you are, I can’t undo it.” You snapped at him.

He leaned in closer to you. His face was only inches away from yours. You worried that if he got any closer, he’d hear how quick your heart was beating.

It took every ounce of control he had to not lean in and get another taste of your strawberry chapstick. He’d missed letting himself get distracted with the sweet taste of your lips.

“You know what I think it was? I think you wanted to see if anyone could fuck you as good as I did. I think you’re still hung up on it now.” He said, in a low tone.

You tried to pretend like his words didn’t make you feel all warm inside. “You think I’m still hung up on the sex? It’s been years, Tyler. Get over yourself, you aren’t the god of sex.” You lied, rolling your eyes at him.

“Oh, really?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. He grabbed your chin. It felt like the air was ripped out of you. He cockily smirked down at you.

“What’s this then?” He asked, pulling your arm up and showing you the goosebumps that were covering your body.

You pulled your arm out of his grip. “You know what, Tyler? Just do us both a favor, and leave me the fuck alone.” You snapped, walking away from Tyler. You headed over towards the diner to grab some food for dinner.

The inside of the diner was chaos. Way too many storm chasers trying to get food at the same time. You glanced down at your watch as you waited in line. It was getting late, and you were hungry.

“Hey, how’re you?” you heard a man beside you say. You turned and saw a guy smiling at you. “Respectfully, I’m really not in the mood if you’re trying to hit on me.” You said, quickly.

He chuckled and shook his head. “I’m Boone.” He said, shaking your hand. You remembered why the name sounded familiar. “Oh shit, you’re Tyler’s friend, aren’t you?” You asked, to which he nodded.

“He pointed you out before and said you guys used to date. Anyway, we have some food over near our camp, if you want some.” He offered. You quickly nodded and thanked him for the offer.

He introduced you to everyone on the team and handed you a takeout container full of food. You didn’t understand how an asshole like Tyler had a team that was full of nice people.

You started eating and listened as they all told stories about some of their craziest tornadoes.

“Oh, look who you invited to eat with us,” Tyler said, shooting you a sarcastic smile. Boone gestured over towards the diner. “Yeah, the line over at the diner was insane. I figured you wouldn’t mind.” Boone explained.

“Come on, Tyler, grow up. I’m a grown woman. I can eat where I want.” You snapped at him, rolling your eyes.

Tyler just chuckled and looked at the ground. “Careful, Boone. She has a history of sleeping with my best friends to make me jealous. You better watch out.” Tyler said, glaring at you.

The whole group got quiet. They hadn’t realized things between you and Tyler were so icy.

“I should go.” You said, starting to grab your things. You liked getting on Tyler’s nerves, but not when he was acting like an ass. Tyler quickly shook his head.

“No no, you should stay. So, what were we talking about? It sounded like craziest tornado experiences? You should remember this one.” Tyler said, looking over at you.

You froze in your seat. You knew exactly what story he was going to tell. But, you couldn’t believe he was actually going that far.

“This lovely lady and I chased a tornado one time, back when we were still together. It was right after I made the prototype to drill the truck into the ground. And she got excited at what that meant. So, we were chasing a giant storm. Then, she had a naughty little idea and decided she wanted to fuck me as we were surrounded by the tornado. And she did, and let me tell you.” He said, whistling to himself.

You could feel your blood boiling. Your face felt warm as tears starting forming in your eyes. “I fucking hate you.” You snapped at him before turning to walk away.

He yelled back at you, “Oh, come on, honey. What’s wrong? I can’t talk about the ways you did me wrong? And I can’t talk about some our best memories? What else am I supposed talk about?” He asked. He had a cocky sense of pride, knowing how much he’d gotten to you.

When it came to you, Tyler would often get blinded by his feelings and take things a step too far.

“You are an asshole, Tyler.” You said, your voice cracking with emotion. You slapped him across his face before storming off. His whole team was dead silent, having no idea what to say.

Tyler sighed to himself and stormed off in the other direction.

You ran right into your motel room and slammed the door. You’d never felt so humiliated by Tyler before. You curled up under the sheets and just prayed you wouldn’t see Tyler tomorrow.

After about an hour, there was a knock at your door. You assumed it was Javi since you hadn’t heard from him in a while.

You wiped the tears off your face and walked over to the door.

When you opened it and saw Tyler, you immediately tried to slam it shut. Tyler quickly stuck his foot in the door to stop you.

“Hang on, sweetheart. Wait a minute.” He begged you. You furiously shook your head, crossing your arms. “I don’t want to talk to you.” You protested.

Tyler held out a box. “You left your food, and I figured you were hungry.” He said, softly. You quietly thanked him and took the box. “Is that it?” You asked as he refused to leave.

“I really want to apologize, sweetheart. I was really fucking out of line. I was mad at you, but I shouldn’t have tried to get revenge. I was such a dick, and I’m really sorry.” He said, genuinely.

You went on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around him. He slipped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. “I’m sorry too. About everything.” You whispered into his shirt.

You both pulled away but lingered slightly. “I know there’s a lot of unresolved feelings over how we ended things, but can we at least have a temporary truce? I don’t want you to get put in harm’s way tomorrow because we’re both distracted. You don’t have to love me, but can we at least be civil?” He asked. You quickly nodded.

“Truce,” you agreed, grabbing his hand and shaking it. You earned a soft chuckle from him. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” He said, kissing your forehead.

He lingered. It felt like he was expecting you to invited him inside. Should you? That was too much, right?

While you were overthinking, he walked back to his room. You closed the door and retreated to your bed to finish your dinner.

After you finished your food, your mind wandered back to Tyler. Something about the way he apologized made you feel like that spark was back. There was a certain twinkle in his eyes.

Ignoring all your better instincts, you reapplied your lipstick, fixed your hair, and headed towards Tyler’s room.

You wiped the sweat off your hands and onto your jeans. You were shocked that you were walking towards Tyler’s room. For years, you’d sworn that you’d stay away from him if you ever saw him again. That just goes to show the effect he had on you.

You took a deep breath and picked your hand up to knock on the door. Before you could, you heard someone talking. You quickly let your hand fall to your side.

You couldn’t knock on Tyler’s door hoping for a one night stand if Boone, or one of the guys, was inside with him. You slowly started to back up when the voice got a lot clearer.

It was a woman. And she wasn’t talking.

“Oh, fuck, baby yes. Harder please, you feel so good.” You could feel your eyes go wide. You quickly took a few steps back.

The tears started forming in your eyes, and you didn’t even know why. You shouldn’t have been surprised.

You started to run back to your room. You would have been mortified if anyone caught you. Now, Tyler’s truce made sense to you. He wasn’t trying to make amends, he wanted to ease his conscience before he hooked up with some girl. You felt so naive.

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Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[carlmipololo]

Guess.

Carl Grimes x fem!reader

Smut, oral sex f!receiving, fingering, car sex, semi public(? clothed eating out and all that jazz. Based on Guess by Charli XCX and Billie Eilish.

Sexuality was something you hadn't explored much, but if you knew something it was that girls were definitely your treat, not that guys weren't attractive to you, but there was something way more appealing about women than men to you.

You had told this to your best friend, except you decided not to let him know about the guys, the young Grimes was accepting of you, how could he not be? You were his best friend, but the disappointment was inevitable for him. Everyone knew, everyone except you, who was oblivious to Carl's obvious interest in you, he was pretty hormonal, and you were pretty, oh hell, he'd be lying if he said he didn't think you were the hottest girl around for him. He'd be lying if he said he had never found himself with his hand down his pants after letting his mind linger on the thought of you bending down to pick something up way longer than it should.

Carl was a hormonal mess. And so were you.

Going on runs was something you did pretty often, and while you waited for Rosita, Tara and Eugene in the van Carl and you came up with something to keep yourselves entertained.

"Okay, so, guessing each other's underwear color? Sounds easy." Of course it was easy, Carl would never suggest something he knew he couldn't win easily.

"Yeah, pretty easy, right? Take your guess, ladies first." He says, trying to keep a straight face, to not let his lips curve up in the cocky grin he was holding back, trying not to give himself away.

You hummed while thinking, you had seen the color of the elastic on Carl's boxers before, it couldn't be that hard, right?

"I'll go with grey. Are they grey?"

Carl chuckled as he shakes his head, amused. "Nope, try again."

After your fair share of tries and repeatedly getting it wrong you were done, letting out a frustrated huff, which was just amusing him even more, a big grin plastered on those pretty lips of his, you had to admit, he was hot when he acted this cocky, but he was also annoying.

"Okay Carl, then why don't you guess the color of mine?"

That was all he wanted to hear, he took his time, leaning in closer, his hot breath against your skin as he whispered in your ear. "I don't have to guess the color of your underwear, I saw it as soon as you sat down."

You gasp, your breath stuck in your throat as soon as he says that, his attitude finally making sense, you wanted to be angry, of course you did, but you couldn't help the way his demeanor and closeness was making you hot, you couldn't help the way your panties sticks to your aching pussy as your slickness wets them.

"What color are they then?" Your voice was way shakier than you intended, and Carl was enjoying it, his hands trailing their way up your thighs. Was he being way too impulsive right now? Of course, he knew he was. Were his hormones allowing him to stop and think it through? Hell no.

"Pink lace, quite pretty by the way... I know you like girls but..." His soft lips brush against your ear, pressing a kiss to your jaw. "You know I'd hit it, right?"

His voice is soft and husky as he says that, his hands sneaking under the hem of your shorts, feeling the warm skin, his lips trailing down to your neck, you couldn't help it, you wanted him to keep going, and the way your hands were gripping at his flannel gave it away.

"Carl...?"

He hums softly in response, his lips latched to your neck, soft kisses and occasional suction that drew pretty moans out your lips. "Want me to stop?"

Your head shakes almost frantically, not wanting him to stop at all, his grin widens against your neck as he lets go of your thighs, one of his hands moving your shorts to the side, his fingers finding your clothed clit, rubbing tiny firm circles over it, earning a myriad of moans from you, already sensitive and responsive.

He can't bite back the smirk on his lips as he lets go of your neck, his lips finding yours quickly, his mouth devouring yours, tongues dancing with each other as he slides his fingers under your wet underwear, sliding a finger inside you. Basically devouring every single moan he coaxes out of you, a second finger adding shortly after as he pumps them in and out, his thumb rubbing over your bundle of nerves to add to the feeling even more.

Carl sucks on your tongue gently, breaking the kiss and taking his fingers out as soon as he senses you're getting close, gummy walls clenching around his fingers continuously. "Why did you stop?" Your voice is breathless and shaky, and he loves he's the cause of it, he shows you the two fingers he previously had inside of you, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he licks them clean, drunken by the taste of your juices. "So fuckin' good, I need to taste you for real."

The cowboy quickly makes his way down to your legs, kissing at your thighs and nibbling on them gently as he props your legs open and over his shoulders, wet lips and tiny love bites being imprinted on your inner thighs as he finally faces your clothed pussy, he takes in the scent, so tempting, he's the hardest he's ever been, but he tries brushing it off and focus on you, his hand moving the shorts away, but he leaves you panties in place, admiring the wet patch on them that makes the baby pink fabric slightly translucent, drawing out the outline of your folds.

"M'gonna make you feel good, pretty girl."

His voice is husky as he leans into you, pressing a soft kiss over your clothed clit, making you jolt as a shiver runs down your spine, he holds your hips down with his hands, a low laugh from him rumbling through your folds as he starts making out with your clothed cunt, tongue lapping at the fabric that sticks to you, now wet in your slickness and his spit, the feeling is enough to have you gaping, gasping for air as he pleases you over your clothes, hands reaching for his hair as you watch the windows of the van fog lightly, back arching slightly as your cheeks become reddened and eyes look glazy.

Carl decides to finally give into his own temptation, moving the panties to the side and finally tasting you fully, his tongue tracing a line up your slit before he starts lapping at your wet cunt relentlessly, making your eyes roll back as you tighten your hold on his hair, mumbling sweet nothings into the air as you whimper in a way that makes Carl almost come in his pants as he hears you, loving the way you taste on his mouth.

"C-Carl, I'm close..."

His tongue keeps moving as you say that, sucking gently on your clit, knowing that he wants to make a mess out of you, to make you come undone under his touch in such a way you will never want anyone else to do those things to you, so he quickly inserts his two fingers again, curving them up to search for your G spot, finding it easily as you almost scream the moment he presses on it, shaky hands tugging at his hair, he continues eating you out like it was his last chance to do it ever, enjoying every single second of it as he fingers you, coaxing your walls open each time you tighten around him, knowing you're about to cum in his mouth.

"C'mon pretty girl, come for me."

He whispers and quickly dips his tongue back into your folds, relishing in the feeling of your body squirming and arching under his touch as you finally come hard, a loud moan leaving your lips as you close your eyes, mind completely blank, Carl is quick to drink your juices, the ones he earned with his own mouth and fingers, he gently takes his fingers out of you and fixes your panties and shorts back to normal, smiling at how fucked out you look, so pretty because of him.

"The color of my underwear, the ones you couldn't guess, wanna find out later?"

"Bet."

He smiles at you, leaning in for a quick kiss, making you look presentable again before the others return, sitting back straight again as the rest of the little group gets back inside the van, Tara looks back at you both, smiling, "Did you guys get bored waiting? It took us longer than we thought." Carl shakes his head quickly, a satisfied smirk on his face. "What did you do to entertain yourselves?"

"A little guessing game, it can be way more entertaining than you think."

I'm dead

Tags: @crxssbowcarl @lunarnightt @carlsangel @aurasplanet @herrera2k @hiro--aoki @girlthatsinsane

[reallyromealone]

Part 3 to surprise you’re a dad plz 🥺

Title: surpsie you're a dad 3

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Haitani brothers

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: Rindō x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, pregnancy, birth, angst, fluff, good uncle ran

Notes: short chapter low brain energy

Summary: birth and hard conversations

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"Six weeks?"

"At minimum" the doctor said simply "and he isn't to lift anything heavier than his pup" Rindō and Ran nodded, glancing at a fast asleep (name) who just finished feeding the tiny baby that was (daughters name), said baby was tucked in Rans arms as Rindō was terrified of holding her.

It had been three hours and Rindō could barely look at his child or his mate, he was terrified.

He didn't know what to do in this situation.

He didn't know how to be a dad!

And Ran was somehow a way better parent figure to his kid and he was an uncle!

Ran watched his brother, he could see the things going on in his head and the stress he was under "you know you got this, right?" Ran said honestly, big brother mode activating while looking at his terrified baby brother, seeing the young boy who he always made sure had a meal on his plate. "Look at her" Ran said simply, gazing at the tiny bundle "this kid is a Haitani, she is one of us and as you're dad it's your duty to be better than ours could ever be" his voice serious while he gently put Rindōs daughter in his arms "she's so small..." Rindō choked out, holding her close and sitting in a chair "she is, even if you and (name) don't work, she will always be a consistent and by proxy so will he"

"Yeah..."

"Serious question, Rinny" Rans voice was methodical while gently tracing the wisps of hair from his nieces head "do you want it to work with (name)?" He asked so calm and collected while Rindō sighed "I fucked up enough" he grumbled out and Ran snorted "you sure did, you called him a whore in so many new fun ways! It's going to take a lot to earn his trust"

"I don't think he will, how would I even get him to do that?"

"Maybe start with an apology"

"An apology?" Rindō was incredulous and Rindō rolled his eyes and leaned into his chair "we are hardened criminals, we do what we want but he is the mother to your child, he is your mate" Ran said seriously "our world means nothing compared to family, an apology can fix a lot of things and open many doors" ran said before leaning close and locking eyes with his younger brother before whispering;

"So apologize"

And with that, Ran stood up and pulled his cigarette holder "I'm leaving now, you better make sure he isn't being stupid or I swear to god"

And with that, Rindō was left in the room with his sleeping mate who hated him and his infant daughter who gurgled up at him, wide eyed "hey..." He whispered and gently took the babies finger "I'm your dad..." He whispered to the little girl who looked at him with nothing but pure curiousity and Rindō couldn't help but smile at this pup.... His pup.

He was a dad now.

Looking up he stared at (name), the Omega spent and out cold in the comfortable bed with many pillows ran made sure (name) had.

Ran was right, he was so obsessed with (name) when he met him at that party... He was absolutely stunning...

Would (name) forgive him?

He was awful to him even up to the birth...

(Name) Held onto his son while being discharged, Ran returning with a BMW armored van and a shit eating grin "there's my beautiful neice~" ran cooed while he and Rindō helped (name) get situated, (name) glaring at Rindō while the Alpha buckled in (daughters name) into her car seat "I got you two some food! Also I stocked up your fridge, (name)!" Ran always the doting but brother knew Rindō still hadn't apologized but could see him working up the confidence for it.

"We'll be alternating whose with you, we worked out a schedule so you're never alone!" Ran said happily and (name) suppressed a sigh at the concept of having to be near his daughters sire for prolonged periods of time and hopefully not kill the Kanto manji member.

(Name) Ate his food quietly, exhausted "drive slower" (name) hissed out and Ran looked back from the rearview mirror "were going at the speed limit (name)"

"Don't care." (Name)s instincts were going haywire "drive. Slower." He hissed out and ran began driving slower at the furious pharamones that made Rindō crack a window "thank you" (name) focused his attention to (daughters name) who was so peaceful before pulling out his phone and placing the screen under her nose to check her breathing and let out a content sigh.

"Rindō is on first watch as I have business to attend to but don't worry I'll bring you two souvenirs!"

(Name) Glared at Rindō and Rindō looked anywhere but him "you know you don't have to, I know you're not thrilled about parenting" (name) didn't even ask for this...

"I want to be there for you two"

"Why...?" (Name) Was suspicious of the alphas words, he didn't trust him as far as he could throw him.

"...let's get (daughters name) in bed then let's talk"

[nanivinsmoke]

Back Seat

he got my pussy purring my lord.

detective!Shiu x detective!Fem reader

summary : when a stakeout with your partner becomes too big for you to handle.

warnings and tags : car sex, cream pie, rough fucking, cigarette kiss, dangerous sex (mid-mission), squirting, overstimulation, creaming.

“mmm. we’re going to get caught~” you giggled, a moan slipping out while he kissed your neck, tickling your sweet spot.

“by who? we’re just here to scope out for the client. if something happens, we’ll deal with it. mmm you smell good” shiu reassured you, taking in your scent while he kissed you some more. you couldn’t fight it anymore and stopped worrying about what could possibly happen, you were in need of some good dick—and your partner was gonna give it to you.

the two of you weren’t usually partners, you were usually paired up with another senior detective; toji, but today your captain put the two of you together. the two of you were very competitive with each other, being that you both were the top detectives in the precinct. maintaining good relationships with the clients and other precincts. however, with good competition comes tension and there was a whole lot with the two of you.

“take these off.” shiu tugged at your panties, his hands found their way underneath your skirt. you shivered, his tone so sensual and his voice so deep; he was turning you on so fast. you quickly did as he said and pulled them down your thighs, tossing them on the other side of the van; before propping your heeled legs up onto the passenger and driver’s seat—cunt at his eye level.

he ogled at the sight of your cunt that glistened with your pearlescent slick, ready for him. with a wink, he dove done in between your legs; gripping the plushy skin of your thighs—before making a meal out of your pussy.

“oh fuck!~” your short manicure clung to his black tresses, back arching off of the ships control panel. the way he was sucking on your clit with enough force to make your toes clench and your eyes roll back into your head, was mind boggling.

“s-so good~” a soft praise left your lips, hips rolling against his slightly stubbled face. his tongue worked wonders, slurping up your precum that dripped out—before he introduced his thick fingers into the mix. he stretched your cunt, swirling himself again your soft gummy walls; making you moan out even louder.

the sweet, sexy noises you were making turned him on, he could feel himself rising in his black suit pants; but he was going to ignore that feeling until he could make you cum. curses flew out of your mouth when that warm feeling in the pit of your stomach was rising and he could feel how fast you were clenching around his fingers. shiu curved his two fingers upwards, in a hook like manner, and massaged your spot; earning your orgasm.

“shiu. shiu. shiu! fuckkk!” you sputtered his name out as you came, tugging on his hair a little harder than before. your cum tasted so sweet, he couldn’t help himself but to keep sucking and lapping up all of your juices, overstimulating you and causing a another orgasm to erupt out of you.

when he finally emerged from his spot between your legs, his mustache glistened with your slick and his mouth was wet; causing you to blush at how wet you were. his eyes were low and lidded, he fell in love with how you tasted and he craved more from you. you reached over and palmed his erection through his pants, locking eyes with his and never breaking contact.

“teasing me is gonna get you in trouble”

“im a big girl, i can handle it~.” you purred and you could feel him jump in his pants. you pulled his zipper down and he pulled down the rest of his clothes, revealing his precum coated cock. he gripped his girth and stroked himself, while you eyed it hungrily. “no condoms, just fuck me….please!”

hearing your plea, he slapped his tip on your second set of lips; mixing your cum with his pre—before pushing himself inside, your soft gummy like walls enveloping around him. he tossed his head back, when he pushed himself all the way in; making you moan out in response. you took him so well, he fit inside of you like a puzzle piece.

“shiu you—f-fuck!” he caught you off guard when he slammed his hips into you, giving you another stroke of his cock. he did this some more, making you bite your lip each time he filled you up—his pace becoming faster. soon, your toes were curling once again and you were starting to cream around his cock.

shiu said nothing while he fucked you, too lost in how good your pussy felt and how sexy you looked as your face started to look fucked out. he reached up and thumbed your lips, pushing his right thumb inside of your mouth; making you suck on his finger.

this was such a turn on for you, your cunt became wetter by the second; drenching his cock with your fluids. you looked so fucked out with your eyes rolled back while he slutted you out.

each time he rammed into you, your ass slammed down on the controls to the van, causing the cloaking device to be turned on and off repeatedly. “so. fucking. tight—need this pussy every day.” shiu said each time he stroked in and out of you, hesitating each time he pulls out so he wouldn’t cum so quickly.

he moved his finger from your mouth, making you whimper but your eyes quickly bulged when he grabbed your head; pushing himself in deeper. his mushroom kissed your cervix, he was so deep. “watch while daddy fucks you. ooh look at how creamy you got” you looked down at how his cock was coated in a nice shade of white, which caked up each time he pushed himself inside.

each time he re-entered you, you were closer to your orgasm and he knew it too. however, you wouldn’t be cumming anytime soon because your van was now spotted by the group of curses you were scouting out for the clients and the two of you would have to deal with it. usually curse detectives wouldn’t handle exterminating curses, they would leave that up to the clients that commissioned for the job, however today was different.

the van entered lock down mode while the two of you got dressed again, both of you were pissed of that your nuts got interrupted. as the sliding door opened, shiu pulled his jacket on and you buttoned up the last button to your white cotton shirt.

“if I get a single speck of cursed blood on this blouse, im going to raise hell from now until next week.”

“whatever princess, just make sure you get rid of them all and don’t break a nail” shiu teased.

—————————

you plopped down, sitting on the inside of the van, breathless and in dire need to be distressed. your shirt was tattered and your hair was a mess, while shiu’s suit jacket was torn to pieces—only his right arm was still attached to him.

“please tell me you got one? I don’t usually smoke, but right now, I need one” you inquired about a cigarette, your voice shaky earning a chuckle from kong. he pulled out his box and you reached over and put it to your mouth. he pulled his lighter out of his pants pocket and lit his cigarette, “damn, i don’t have a light—wait, c’mere.” you motioned over to him, bring your mouth and cigarette closer to his; allowing the butt of his cig to meet yours.

you stayed like that for a while, both of your bodies closer to one another’s; radiating heat, until your cigarette was lit. you pulled back and puffed out some smoke; sighing as you slowly began to let your stress go.

“damn…” shiu whispered, reacting to what just happened. that was the sexiest thing to ever happen to him and from that action alone he was harder than ever. he took one good look at you as you puffed on your tobacco filled stick, all messy and worn out from your fight, and he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you into a deep kiss.

PLAP. PLAP. PLAP. PLAP.

squelch. squelch. sq—

“oh fuck! too fucking big shiu—oh my god~!” you moaned out as he drilled you from the back, your pants and panties tossed in the backseat of the van; while you kneeled and took his dick like a good girl.

“i know, but look…your taking me so well, doll” his nickname for you made you even weaker in the knees than you already were. he was pounding you so well, you couldn’t stop the orgasm that ripped through you.

“cumming for me already? mmm, g’na work another one out of you” his big hands gripped and smacked your ass, still stretching out your cunt while you came. an idea popped into his head and with a devious smirk on his face, he pushed his thumb inside of your other hole, catching you by surprise. the painful feeling of your ass being stretched by his thumb, soon became pleasurable as it rested there while he fucked you like a pocket pussy.

the sound and sight of your ass colliding with his pelvis, and his cock being made a mess of; made his balls twinge and he was ready to pump his load into you. reaching underneath you, you used your right hand to fondle his balls, “cum for me daddy, please. i want you to fill me up so much!”

hearing your pleads made it easier for him to let go and empty his seed inside of you. the hard rutting of his hips, which clashed with his finger in your ass, made your orgasm; this time you were squirting.

“shit–make a mess on it” you were stuttering and babbling as you came down from your orgasmic high; and when he finally finished he pulled out of you—his still hard cock laying in between your cheeks, shocking you.

“let’s go somewhere else before we give some curses a show”

[imaginespazzi]

This Little Love of Ours

Three times Paige and Azzi didn't go on a date and the one time they did

(In which an alternate universe writer finally returns to writing things in the real universe)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.4K (sighs in *this was meant to be 2K* words)

TW: Light swearing, alludes to sexual content

A/N: Hi lovelies, I'm backkkk!! Gonna keep this short and sweet but this is basically me combining a bunch of prompts/requests into one. There's some creative liberty taken with logistics and as per usual, the editing exists but so do my typos. As always, let me know what you liked and what you didn't, as well as anything you'd like to see going foreward. Happy Juneteenth and I hope y'all have a lovely rest of your week <3

we were just kids (when we fell in love)

The streets of Minsk, Belarus are bursting with light and colour, the summer breeze enveloping the two girls walking riverside as they giggle over everything and nothing. They’re breaking curfew plus a hundred other rules right now and if one of their coaches ever found out, they’d be as good as dead. But there’s something about being out in the open with Azzi, being able to delicately brush palms and not worry about her jolting away in fear of being seen, that has Paige ready to be reckless. 

It’s been a year of learning Azzi, a year of discovering the little things that make her smile, a year of memorising the intricate stories that make her who she is. And Paige hides all these little details in a little treasure chest in the corner of her heart, bringing them out like little drops of lights when Azzi’s not by her side, and the darkness feels all-consuming. The thing is, Paige has never been attached to someone like this before, never felt like there was another half she needed to feel whole. She’d been an independent child, walls of steel barricading anyone from getting a glimpse into her vulnerability. For a long time, she’d been fine just living in the façade of being fine. But then she’d met Azzi. And all the walls had gone crashing down and it was okay not to be okay, because now while she held the weight of world, there was somebody there to hold her too. 

“Paigeeee,” Azzi squeals with delight, eyes fixated on a van across the road, “there’s an ice cream truck.”

Paige doesn’t get time to react before she’s being pulled along, the wind tornadoing around her body. And yet she feels warm and fuzzy inside, like there’s a blanket with Azzi’s name knitted into it, wrapped around her heart. 

“I’ll have the strawberry please,” Azzi smiles politely at the ice cream vendor, eyes sparkling with excitement, “P what are you getting?”

Paige grins, knowing her order is about to earn her a patented eye roll, “I’ll have the mint choc chip please.”

“You’re so weird,” the younger girl scrunches up her face and Paige suddenly has the urge to kiss her nose. 

They both know that they’re living inbetween blurred lines, on a trapeze balanced between friends and something more. It had been a whispered conversation of have you ever kissed a girl? do you wanna kiss a girl? do you wanna kiss me? that had led to a kiss Paige swears can never be topped, but they hadn’t spoken about it again. With them living in separate states, it had been easy to ignore that, that had ever even happened, both of them skilled players at the game of pretend. But it’s different now they’re back in each other’s orbit and every touch seems to linger on Paige’s skin long after Azzi’s hands have left her own. 

“You have no taste. It’s sooooo good,” Paige chides, making a show of licking her ice cream. When she looks at Azzi, she’s not expecting the way the shooting guard’s eyes have glazed over, fixated on Paige’s lips as she swallows nervously. An unfamiliar shiver tickles down Paige’s skin as they stand in silence, the air thick with a new tension. 

“It’s green,” Azzi says finally, voice coming out breathless, “that’s enough for me to know it tastes bad.”

“Don’t knock it til you taste it,” the blond holds out her cone as an invitation. 

When Azzi steps into Paige space, much closer than needed, she’s expecting Azzi to take the cone. She’s expecting that familiar jolt of electricity when their hands accidentally brush. Instead she feels herself being  mesmerised by Azzi’s face getting closer and closer til she can feel the younger girl’s breath fanning her face. She gulps, as Azzi presses her lips to the corner of Paige’s mouth, tongue darting out for the briefest of seconds before she’s pulling away. And despite the cool of the ice cream, every part of Paige feels like it’s burning. 

“I was wrong. Guess it tastes pretty good,” Azzi whispers, biting her lip. 

“You-I-what-” Paige splutters, struggling to form a coherent thought. 

Azzi giggles, clearly proud of herself  “Paige Bueckers speechless? Who thought I’d ever see the day?”

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“And proud of it.”

There’s the clichéd spring in Paige’s step as they continue to walk by the river. She shifts her ice cream cone to her left hand, letting the other one entangle with Azzi’s fingers. It’s nothing, the most mundane of things to hold her best friend’s hand, but it feels exhilarating, like it’s the start of something special. Determined, she tugs on Azzi’s hand to pull them to a stop. The Minsk waterfront dazzles behind them but Paige swears nothing’s glowing brighter than two of them in this moment. 

“Why are we stopping?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised quizzically. 

Paige smirks, a new surge of confidence taking birth in her stomach, “I wanted to try your ice cream too. You got a taste of mine, it’s only fair I get a taste of yours.” 

“Is that so?” Azzi hums, pressing herself against Paige, “too bad it seems like I’ve finished my cone then.”

“Yeah too fucking bad,” Paige agrees before crashing her lips against Azzi’s. 

***

Paige is exhausted at breakfast the next morning, barely registering the conversations that are buzzing around her. Her eyes are drooping from the lack of sleep and there’s a dull pounding in her head but she has no regrets. Last night had been everything. She can still feel every moment pulsating through her veins, her heart beating to the rhythm of Azzi Azzi Azzi. The younger girl hasn’t appeared for breakfast yet and Paige is itching to see her. They’ve been separated for barely a couple of hours, reluctantly heading to their own rooms after they’d gotten back, and Paige swears she’d missed the girl even in her sleep. 

“You got back late last night,” Cameron teases, sticking out a fork of fruit in Paige’s direction, “you two must have had a good time.”

“Yeah,” there’s a rare shyness in Paige’s tone, “yeah we had a great time.”

“Oooh are we talking about Paige and Azzi’s date last night?” Aliyah cuts in, a smirk playing on her lips. 

“It wasn’t a date,” Paige counters, suddenly feeling oddly defensive “it- it was nothing.”

Cam raises an eyebrow, “it seemed like a date.” 

“Well it wasn’t. It definitely was not a date.”

“You guys heard her,” Azzi's voice makes Paige freeze, something akin to guilt pooling in her stomach, “it definitely was not a date.”

Cam and Aaliyah raise their hands in surrender, turning back to whatever conversation they were engaged in before. Paige gulps as Azzi sits down in the empty spot next to her, body rigid. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Paige it’s fine. I get it.”

“You- you do?” Paige doesn't entirely know how Azzi can get it, not when Paige doesn’t even really get it herself. 

Azzi shrugs with fake nonchalance, “yeah, yeah I do and it’s okay. You’re right. It wasn’t a date.”

And it wasn’t. At least not by name. Paige knows that. Apparently Azzi knows it too. But everything about that feels wrong. Underneath the table, their hands intertwine subconsciously. Neither of them react. Neither of them pull away. It’s the start of something unspoken, something complicated, something beautiful and fragile and so, so volatile, something that’ll take them years to understand.

2. this all or nothing way of loving (got me sleeping without you)

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

Azzi fights the twitch in her hand that wants to reach out and grab her phone when that notification flashes on her screen. She musters up another fake smile at her date, hoping the girl in front of her hasn’t noticed the change in her demeanour. It’s ridiculous the way her body reacts to the most simple things when it comes to Paige. She hates it, hates the way it seems like she has no control over herself when it comes to the blonde. 

“Do you need to get that?” Anika asks, voice sweet as honey as she smiles at Azzi 

“No, no it’s just an insta notification. Nothing important. You were saying,” Azzi brushes it off, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. Anika seems satisfied with that as she returns back to telling Azzi about something her sister had done. Fidgeting in her seat, Azzi tries her hardest to keep her focus on the brunette, but her mind is whirring with curiosity about what Paige might have posted. 

The opportunity presents itself a couple of minutes laters, when Anika slides out of her seat to go to the bathroom. It’s a little embarrassing how quickly Azzi beelines for her phone, clicking on Paige’s story and immediately wishing she hadn’t. Anger and jealousy tighten their grip on her as she’s met with a picture of a caramel skinned, curly haired girl smiling at the camera, staring at Paige behind it, with that oh so familiar look of adoration. The text on the image reads in good company and Azzi feels bile rising up her throat. And she’s not allowed to feel this way, not when she and Paige had both agreed to turn their something into nothing but every day since that decision has felt a little bit like someone twisting a dagger into her heart, piercing further and further until she has no more blood left to bleed. 

She doesn’t notice Anika’s made her way back until she feels a warm hand on her shoulder, looking up to find concerned green eyes staring down at her, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” Azzi nods with a sense of calm she doesn’t feel, “you okay with me showing you off a bit?”

It’s a dangerous game she’s about to play, one of jealous retaliation that she knows will only make her feel better for a brief second before all the pain will flood back. But she reaches for her phone anyways, fighting the voices of logic and reason (that sound oddly similar to Colleen) in her head and instead giving into impulse. Anika beams at the camera, throwing up a peace sign, and Azzi’s heart stutters with guilt at how sincere her smile is. She snaps the picture, captioning it with  date night <3 and clicks post to close friends. Her heart beats erratically as she places her phone back on the table, trying to tune back into Anika’s conversation. It takes approximately three minutes for her phone to flash again.

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

This time Azzi doesn’t bother fighting the urge to look, a new adrenaline pumping through her veins. It’s a mirror selfie this time. The girl has her back pressed against Paige’s front as they pose in front of the bathroom mirror. Paige has one hand holding her phone while the other is sprawled against the other girl’s waist, where a silver belly button piercing shimmers against tan skin. There’s no text this time, just a red heart and that Paige-shaped hole in Azzi’s heart is starting to get larger and larger. 

“You wanna take a walk?” Azzi asks Anika, tearing her eyes away from the phone, “it’s nice outside.”

Anika smiles, rising from her seat and holding out a hand that Azzi gladly takes. It would be easier, Azzi thinks, if she could just fall in love with this girl. Someone less complicated, someone who had less power over her, someone who was here. But it’s a futile dream, her heart is spoken for and Azzi doesn’t think she’ll ever get it back. 

It's a beautiful winter night outside and there’s a pretty girl holding her hand. That’s all Azzi should be thinking about. Instead, her mind is stuck on the image from before and it’s that vision, welded behind her eyelids, that has her taking a picture of her and Anika’s intertwined hands. As she types out the caption, one that feels way too deep for a first date, Azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at herself. She can’t remember the last time she’d posted a story, let alone two in a row and now here she is, posting inauthentic story after story to win a losing game. 

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

This time there’s at least 10 minutes before Azzi’s phone flashes with that notification again. Next to Azzi, Anika lets out a sigh, starting to become less amiable to the idea of her date constantly checking her phone. Azzi shoots her an apologetic look before her expression quickly turns stone cold at seeing the new picture. It’s a haphazardly taken, slightly pixelated, photo of Paige smiling and the girl kissing her cheek. And if Azzi was in any mood to analyse just a little further she’d notice that Paige’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, isn’t quite as wide as her real one. But there’s green fog clouding her judgement as she seethes internally, Anika’s soft touch doing nothing to calm her down. Tapping on Paige’s profile, Azzi fingers hover over the three dots on the upper left, as her petty side begins to take over. 

And then she hits block. 

***

“How was your date?” Paige’s mocking voice rings throughout Azzi’s childhood bedroom at almost 2 in the morning. She shouldn’t have answered the facetime call, should’ve held out for longer than just three missed calls and twelve angry texts. But Azzi has long realised that she’s putty when it comes to Paige. 

“How’s your girlfriend,” Azzi bites back. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right,” Azzi draws out the word with an eyeroll, “how’s your fuck buddy then?”

Paige closes her eyes, rubbing her temples. When she opens them, the angry hard-to-read Paige that she’s been dealing with for the last month is replaced by Azzi’s soft, sweet and vulnerable Paige. Being apart after having been together all through lockdown has been harder than either of them could have imagined. They’d just assumed it would be easy when Paige finally left for UConn, after all most of their relationship had been built while living in different states. But somewhere in between workouts at 6 am and movie nights with Azzi’s family, they’d gotten used to living in each other’s skin, forgetting just how difficult it was to be apart from each other.  

“I miss you,” Paige whispers, “all the time. I can’t wait til you’re here.”

I miss you too, so much that sometimes it’s the only thing I feel, Azzi thinks and really it’s what she should say, instead the bitterness wins out, “why? So I can see you and that girl being all coupley in person instead of just on instagram?”

“That’s not fair, Azzi. You said you wanted to be just friends for now. You said I should try with other people and now you wanna throw that back in my face?”

“It was mutual-”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers, “don’t try and put that shit on me. You made the decision and I just went along with it.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have then,” Azzi says exasperatedly, blinking her eyes rapidly to keep tears threatening to fall at bay. They fall into silence, staring at each other through the screen with identical expressions of only you can hurt me, only you can heal me. Azzi wishes she could reach through her phone, pull Paige into her world and melt into the older girl.

“What do you want from me Az?” Paige asks softly. 

I just want you, Azzi thinks miserably. She wants to be beg Paige to end things with that other girl, wants Paige to tell her not go on anymore dates, want to go back to being something, but she can’t, not when she’s convinced herself that they need do this, go through a phase of being nothing, so that they can be everything someday. This whole idea had taken birth in her head out of the fear that this- the two of them not knowing anything but each other- would eventually lead to resentment, that they- that Paige- would wake up one day and realise there was so much more the world had to offer. So now Azzi’s playing the long game, trying to believe in the clichéd year old adage that you have to let the people you love go, and if they come back, they’re yours. And she hopes against hope that Paige will come back, because Azzi doesn't think she’ll survive anything else. 

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, instead of voice the other thoughts dancing on the tip of her tongue, “I’m sorry I’m being unfair.”

Paige’s eyes soften, “can we just- can we just talk about something else?”

And they do. They talk all night about everything and nothing, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. It’s that same nightly routine neither of them can fall asleep without. Because even if they’re both drowning in a sea of unspoken words, at least they’re sinking together, perhaps there’s some comfort in that. 

3. you make me smile (please stay for a while now)

Azzi stares at her reflection in the mirror for what feels like the thousandth time. She’s a bundle of nervous energy as she pats down her neatly ironed mini-skirt, adjusting her already perfectly-set crop top. It’s a little bit like how she feels before stepping on the court, dizzy with both nerves and excitement in anticipation. By all technicalities, this isn’t their first date. There’s probably friends and family who would argue this is closer to be their millionth or so date but nothing has ever been official. It just means more. 

She jumps a little when the doorbell rings at exactly 7 p.m. sharp, taking in a deep breath, before she opens the door. Paige stands outside in black pants with a black crop top and a multicolor cardigan, and a bouquet of pink roses in her hands. It takes Azzi about two seconds to realise that something’s wrong. Paige’s eyes are a feverish red and her smile is tired; it’s her all too familiar Paige is sick demeanour that Azzi’s quick to recognize after years of having seen it. The blonde opens her mouth to say something and instead all that comes out is a series of loud sneezes. 

“Oh baby,” Azzi gives her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to feel Paige’s forehead and then narrowing her head when she feels the heat, “P-”

“I’m fine,” Paige cuts her off, her voice gravelly, “just allergies.”

Azzi crosses her arms, knowing she’s about to deal with a petulant child, “I don’t think so. You’re clearly sick.”

“I don’t-,” Paige tries to disguise the cough in between her sentences, “-get sick.”

“Sure you don’t,” Azzi nods, as she tugs Paige inside, grabbing the flowers and setting them aside. Paige lets out grunts of protest, but her body is clearly too tired to fight back as Azzi guides them into her room. She goes into her closet first, finding an oversized shirt for Paige to change into. 

“You know the getting undressed part comes after the date right?” Paige raises an eyebrow, practically glaring at the t-shirt 

“We’re not going on a date.”

“WHAT? Dude I’m fine. I have a reservation and everything,” Paige whines in between coughs as she watches Azzi rummage through her drawers for medication, “it’s our first date. I had plans.”

“I’m not going on a date with you looking all snotty and congested like that.”

Azzi suppresses a laugh at Paige’s offended sequel, “what happened to sickness and health?”

“Pretty sure that’s a marriage thing,” she hands Paige the pills and a glass of water, that the older girl obediently takes.

“Well we’re eventually gonna get married so you need to get used to that,” it’s said so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but it steals Azzi’s breath away, the words carving themselves into the walls of her heart. Sometimes she wonders if Paige understands the gravity of the things she says, understands how they make every part of Azzi come alive with hope for their future. She shies away from a smirking Paige, trying to hide the blush that’s creeping up her neck. 

“Just- just get changed,” she manages to stutter out. 

“I,” sneeze, “don’t,” cough, “want” sneeze, “to.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

“You have to get better P or coach will kill us both if you end up missing practice.”

“Going on a date with you would make me feel better.”

“Okay,” Azzi sighs, realising she needs to change tactics, “we’ll make a compromise. You’re gonna change-” she raises a hand when Paige tries to interrupt, “you’re gonna change and lie down, and if you don’t fall asleep in the next 10 minutes, we’ll go on the date.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow in concentration as she mulls it over, before a scheming glint appears in her eyes, “okay but on one condition,” her grabby hands reach for Azzi’s waist, a soft smile playing on her chapped lips, “you have to lie down with me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, letting the blonde pull her into her arms, her own hands encircling Paige’s back as the older girl snuggles into her neck with a content sigh. This is her happy place. In any room, anywhere, as long as she’s cocooned in Paige’s embrace, there’s a sense of serenity that seems to flood into Azzi’s veins. 

“I could fall asleep here,” Paige murmurs, hot breath fanning against Azzi’s collarbone, “you’re so comfortable.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to physically manoeuvre Paige onto the bed which only elicits a smirk against her skin. 

“If you wanted me in your bed Az, you could have just asked,” the older girl wiggles her eyebrows, earning her a small push from Azzi as Paige drags them both down into a mess of limbs and pillows. Cerulean blue eyes stare up at Azzi, a little bloodshot from the impending fever, but still blisteringly brilliant with love. It scares Azzi sometimes, to see all that emotion swimming in Paige’s eyes, all for her and it scares her even more to know that same pool of you’re it for me is reflected in her own too. Sometimes she worries they’re too young for this, too young to feel so much but then Paige smiles, and all of Azzi’s doubt flies away as she lets herself believe in forever. 

***

Paige doesn’t even really make it past five minutes, her sick body giving into the tiredness as she cuddles into Azzi, arms splayed over the younger girl's torso, as she keeps her head buried in her shoulder. There’s a content smile on her face as Azzi continues to run her hands through silky blond hair, brushing out tiny knots and waiting a couple of minutes, before she detaches herself from her girlfriend and heads to the kitchen. She’s not the greatest of chefs, but she’d like to think she’s skilled enough to try and make something that at least resembles chicken noodle soup. 

Azzi’s almost done when she feels a blanket being wrapped around her, two arms coming to wrap around her waist as she feels the weight of Paige’s chest pressed against her back, the older girl's head coming to rest in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“You’re already awake,” Azzi whispers, leaning her head back so she can brush her lips against Paige’s temple. 

Paige grunts, her voice nasally when she speaks, “you left and I was cold.”

“I have like three blankets on my bed you could’ve used.”

“Don’t wanna use blankets. Wanna use you,” Paige whispers, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s neck, making the younger girl shiver, “you’re much warmer.”

“Go pick out a movie to watch, I’m almost done with this.”

She can’t see it but Azzi can practically feel Paige’s raised eyebrows, as she dramatically sniffs the air, “you cooked? Babe I’m already sick, are you trying to get me sicker?”

“Wow. I slave over the kitchen for you for hours-”

“Maybe half-”

“HOURS! And you have the audacity to question my cooking when all you can make is buffalo chicken dip?”

“Hey, you love my buffalo chicken dip.”

“You keep telling yourself that baby.”

“It’s not nice to be  mean to your sick girlfriend,” Paige snickers as she makes her way to the couch in  Azzi’s room. 

“So you admit you’re sick then?” 

“Only sick to my stomach at whatever you’re gonna feed me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, pouring the soup into a bowl. She secretly loves when they get like this. It’s a reminder that no matter what other label they eventually put on their relationship, Paige will always be her best friend first. As soon as Azzi sits down on the couch, Paige is all over her, knowing exactly how to shrink her body so that all 6’0 of her fits perfectly on her girlfriend’s lap. This is Azzi’s favourite version of Paige really, the soft vulnerable babygirl that’s only for Azzi’s eyes, a far cry from the ultimate rizzler the rest of the world sees.

“Feed me,” Paige pouts and Azzi shakes her head fondly but does as she’s asked, holding a spoonful of chicken noodle soup in front of Paige’s mouth.

“Thought you were scared of my cooking?”

“Oh I am but the things we do for love,” the blonde says dramatically before letting Azzi feed her, “huh, that’s not half bad baby.”

“High compliments,” Azzi says mock-seriously, as she tries her own spoonful, “oh I kinda ate that.”

They both dissolve into giggles at that, falling into a comfortable conversation as Azzi takes turns feeding both herself and Paige, the dull rumbling of some random movie behind them. 

“You’re always taking care of me,” Paige says softly after a while, hand caressing Azzi’s left arm as she lies against her chest, feeling her heartbeat underneath her fingertips. 

“Someone has to,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s hair, “you take care of everyone else and I take care of you.”

“Sorry I ruined our date but trust, I’mma make it up to you,” Paige mumbles sleepily, digging herself further into Azzi’s arms if that’s even possible. 

“I’m sure you will baby.”

“I love you.”

“Love you more P.”

And if in two days, Azzi’s the one that’s sick and Paige’s attempt at making chicken noodle soup goes even worse, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing they have NIL deals and can afford a chef in the future.

4. me i fall in love with you every single day (and i just wanna tell you i am)

“Where are you taking me?” Azzi giggles, hands outstretched as she tries to navigate the path in front of her, despite being blindfolded. The salty sea air brushes through her hair, as she places one foot in front of another, letting Paige’s hands on her waist guide her across the cruise ship. 

“Be patient, we’re almost there,” Paige whispers against her ear, nervous anticipation building in her stomach. She’s been planning this night from the moment they’d booked the cruise tickets, wanting everything to be as near to perfect as possible. The thing is, they’ve been on plenty of dates, some even before they’d officially started calling them dates. But most of those dates have had to be carefully constructed away from prying eyes, their hands itching to hold the others but forced to dangle by their sides so they could keep up a façade in public, that this was just friends hanging out. The cruise is the perfect spot for a private date, one where Paige wouldn’t have to keep her hands to herself, not that she’s done a good job of that the whole trip anyway. But she’s found the perfect secret spot and spent just a little bit of money, to make sure the other cruise goers wouldn’t bother them tonight. 

“Are we there yet?” Azzi whines and Paige can’t help but laugh, finally pulling them to a stop.

“So impatient,” she tuts as she finally pulls away Azzi’s satin pink blindfold. 

“Yes well I’m star-oh…” Azzi blinks, eyes adjusting to the light as they flitter over her surroundings, the words being stolen from her lips as an awed look takes over her features, “Paige.”

“You like?” Paige bites her lips nervously.

“Do I like? Baby, this is beautiful,” tears sparkle in Azzi’s eyes as she loops her arms around Paige’s neck, “it’s perfect.”

They’re standing on the bow of the cruise ship. In the distance, the island they’re docked at, is illuminated by lights, making it shimmer against the dark night sky. A table for two sits at the helm of the ship, adorned in a purple velvet table cloth. There are candles and pink and white rose petals scattered all across the floor, with a small path carved out in between so they can walk to the table. On the table, there’s a customised crystal centrepiece with their names carved into it and inside it is a bouquet made of pictures of them. It’s a little cliché really, especially for two people whose path to each other had been anything but traditional but all Paige has ever wished for is a moment of normalcy with Azzi, a moment where they’re not star players, just two girls in love, enjoying a typical date night, a moment where they’re just PaigeAndAzzi. 

“When did you even have time to plan all of this?” Azzi marvels out loud, as Paige pulls out a chair for her. 

“I have my ways,” the blonde says with a smirk, taking a seat opposite her girlfriend and reaching to entwine their hands together. 

“You didn’t have to do this P.”

Paige shrugs, “I wanted to. We deserve this.”

Azzi nods, squeezing Paige’s hand because god knows they do deserve this. It’s been a hellish year if they’re honest. The highs had been wonderful but the lows, god the lows had felt like the ground being pulled from beneath their feet as they gripped each other, holding onto the only thing in their lives that felt like a reprieve from the darkness that swirled around them. And really that’s it Paige thinks, life can throw whatever it wants at her, but as long as she has Azzi, she’ll learn to survive it. 

“You wanna dance?” Paige asks, when they’ve finally finished eating, somehow managing to find a way to hold hands throughout the whole three course meal. As if on cue, a violin quartet appears onto the deck, and Azzi laughs at the coincidence. It’s Paige’s favourite sound in the whole wide world. 

“You’re such a sap,” Azzi teases fondly as she lets Paige lead them onto the floor, “how many romcoms did you watch to come up with this whole thing?”

“Dude, are you doubting my abilities to come up with a perfect date?”

“I would never,” Azzi swears, leaning her cheek against Paige’s, “but seriously Bueckers, you’ve outdone yourself.”

The melody of “thinking out loud” on the violin with the light thrum of the sounds of the wind and the ocean, creates the perfect orchestra for them to sway to, as they press every inch of themselves into each other, trying to lose themselves in the other’s arm. That feeling of home, a resounding peace, echoes throughout Paige’s skull and she thinks if there was ever a memory she’d want to replay over and over again, it would be this one. 

“I’m gonna miss this,” Paige whispers, “being with you like this?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“No I know- I just- I like being able to be us in public like we have this last week. I like not pretending.”

“What if-,” Azzi pulls back a little, eyes locking with Paige’s, “what if we didn’t pretend?”

Paige searches for a shred of hesitance in Azzi’s face, but finds nothing but complete resoluteness and a grin breaks out on her own face, “what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that even if we don’t say anything, maybe we don’t have to try and hide everything all the time either. I’m saying,” Azzi bites her lips, shyly smiling, “if you wanna hold my hand when we’re in public sometimes, you- you can if- if you want to.”

“I really, really, really want to,” Paige breathes against the brunette’s lips, hands rubbing circles against her waist. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers back, “because I really, really, really want you to.”

[jensettermandu]

song worthy - jang wonyoung

genre; smut

pairing; show-goer!wonyoung x rockstar!female reader

content; set in the mid 2000s, cigarette use, mentions of wiccans/witches (wony being referred to as a witch at times), still channeling the inner dirt-bag/rockstar core (claiming it <3), rockstar!reader x show-goer!wony. smut; switch wonyoung/reader, cunnilingus (both giving/receiving), fingering (both giving/receiving)

synopsis; wonyoung gets stoped by the frontwoman of the band that's been making a buzz lately and gets offered a deal she can't decline, especially not with the mutual desires that linger in both of their gazes.

wc; 5.4k

masterlist

a/n; this is from a scrapped story, but enjoy!

Y/n’s cold hand dug into the pocket of the black leather jacket before taking out a wrinkled and soft pack of cigarettes. Another sniffle followed, her nose cold as she took one out and put it between her lips, eyes woefully looking at three cigarettes left and no money to buy more.

“So much for being a performer.” She mumbled as the money her band earned was close to nothing. The impulsive decision of dropping school to pursue a band with her friends was biting her in the ass. It felt impossible to do anything right for the forlorn singer who had been negative about her life since the day she was born. 

She put the pack back, searched for the zippo, and groaned when she realised that she had thrown it into the van earlier after lighting her previous one. Her friends were already gone after leaving her behind since she couldn’t crash at theirs; the girl having no place to stay the night at.

The streets were half empty, people passing by and minding their business and cars speeding along the road. She held the stick between her glossy lips, looking around, hearing sirens somewhere in the distance, being well aware of how unsafe this area was and it did make her anxious—at the back of her head which she ignored. 

The wired headphones blasted Jennifer’s Body by Hole and small stones dragged along the wet concrete behind her. Y/n looked back to see a girl walk out from behind the alley she had come from. Unaware of the frontwoman’s presence since her gaze was on the ground beneath her platforms. 

Y/n quickly took the cig out of her mouth. “Hey, hey, wait up!” She called for the stranger, almost stumbling over her duffle bag as she caught onto the girl’s bare arm, stepping over the bag in the process and managing to stay on both feet.

“Are you out of your fucking mind!?” She harshly exclaimed, yanking her arm out of the band member’s grip. Her eyes were hard at the sudden and blenching intrusion that made her back up a step. The girl’s eyebrows raised into a frown as she looked over at the lead singer who was looking back at her. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, but I just need to borrow a lighter–if you have one on you that is.” She quickly spouted out an apology, noticing she scared her. Y/n’s eyes searched for why the girl seemed so familiar. 

It clicked for Y/n when she looked over at the inch-taller girl. She had seen her in the crowd the past two shows and she remembered because she had a face and style hard to forget. The girl who had just raised her voice at her came as more than a poser. She was dressed in black fishnets with ripped sheer tights under, a small top, exposing most of her skin and a mini leather skirt with a studded belt.

A silence followed after the apology as the taller girl sighed through her nose with fingers looking through the black Rachel bag. She took out a pink bic and Y/n almost in haste grabbed it as she finally had something to light the cigarette with. 

“Thank you,” she muffled out with the cancer stick between plump lips. Her hand came up to cover the side where a gentle yet cold breeze blew at them so the fire wouldn’t blow out. With that she ignited it and inhaled, filling her lungs with the smoke as the tip caught an ember before it turned to ash, burning along the white.

The girl watched the girl she knew as Y/n, the lead singer of the band that just performed.

“Were you at the show?” Y/n questioned her while handing back the lighter, sticking her right hand into the pocket of the leather jacket to keep herself from getting even colder. The taste of the smoke was strong on her tongue, the cheap cigarettes had to suffice as she could not afford any better brands. Not like she had money for a nicotine addiction–not having money for a place to live–but it was too late for consideration.

“Yeah…” She simply confirmed.

Y/n nodded at that and her eyes trailed along the slim figure in front of her and they only stopped on her thighs. She pointed down at her thigh with her head, blowing the smoke to the side while flicking at the cigarette between her fingers. A garter on the girl’s left thigh with a pentacle. 

“Are you Wiccan?” She questioned, knowing enough about the pentacle to know that Wiccans who often identified as witches used them although not all witches were Wiccan.

“You’re the first one to ask me if I’m Wiccan and not Satanist…But yes.” 

Y/n hummed and looked back up from the garter with the steel pentacle. “They usually use an inverted one.” She pointed out, knowing better than to assume the girl was Satanist as they usually used inverted ones. The two had significantly different meanings to them. 

The brunette tilted her head, dark hair falling down her shoulders and over her pale skin that was illuminated by the shitty yellow lights that went along the sidewalk the two girls stood on. 

“So…This is where you offer me a cigarette, rockstar.” The girl said, doing a once over at the lanky musician. Their eyes met, both having slept in smudged eyeliner although the proclaimed Wiccan could see the tiredness and bad nights of sleep on the other girl who chuckled and took out the cigarettes.

“What do I get for a cigarette?” She questioned her and the latter raised her eyebrows as she looked at Y/n who tilted the pack and showed the content inside, three sticks pathetically waiting to be smoked. 

“Only have three left so it’s a big offer.” The singer added. She usually wouldn’t offer or give anyone cigarettes if she only had two or three left. Especially if she had no money. 

“You get the honours of being a kind human being.” She gave the only thing she had to give as she toyed with the lighter in her hold, igniting it and letting go. Her eyes came up and looked at the girl in leather who hummed unsure with smoke coming out of her nose, catching the little shining gem on Y/n’s left nostril.

“What’s your name?” Y/n asked. 

“It’s Wonyoung.” 

She nodded at that, the lead singer still needed a place to stay the night and the weather was turning colder as it was close to being 2:30 am. She took another quick drag and blew out the smoke before licking her lower lip which tasted of vanilla and tobacco. 

“Okay…What would I get for a cigarette and two tickets to the show next Friday, Wony?” She offered Wonyoung. 

The tickets were somewhat expensive, around 20 bucks, 10 for entrance to the club and 10 for the band's show. Expensive or not, Y/n saw no reason for Wonyoung to deny because who said no to free tickets? She always carried a few on her as they at times worked like money. Aside from the duffle bag filled with clothes and another pair of shoes, they were her most prized possession at the moment. 

The deal was made as Wonyoung’s fingers nimbly reached for a cigarette from the pack as she spoke. “What do you need?” She asked before putting the stick between her plump lips, covering it from the wind and lighting it with the pink bic. Her gaze came back up to Y/n after as the smoke they blew out trailed away from them. 

“A place to stay for the night…I have the tickets in my bag.” Y/n pointed to the bag behind her feet while hoping that the newly met stranger would let her crash. In the end, she seemed harmless as she was hot and liked their music if she had shown up to three shows. It wouldn't be Y/n’s first time crashing at a stranger's place.

“My car is parked right there…I live along the boulevard.” Wonyoung said and pointed along the sidewalk where a black sedan stood. That was enough for Y/n to turn around and get the duffle bag.

Wonyoung eyed the lithe girl who turned her back to her. At the moment her confusion was how the whole idea seemed ludicrous because why on earth did the frontwoman need a place to stay? She didn’t ask though because she felt like it wasn’t her business and neither did she judge. In the end, she got two free tickets and the band’s lead singer all in the deal. The new sex symbol among showgoers. There was no need for complaints. 

“Let’s get going then.” Y/n sighed, huffing as she slung the heavy bag over her shoulder while ignoring the pain of the strap straining through the leather jacket and against her shoulder. 

Wonyoung led the way as they walked beside each other, the heels of their chunky boots dragging along the wet concrete, unconsciously kicking at small pebbles as they approached the car. 

She opened the BMW E36, the lights blinking as the locks released and Y/n put the stick between her lips while opening the back seat to put her bag inside while the witch got into the driver’s seat. The doors slammed closed after them and the frontwoman got into the passenger seat in the front as Wonyoung started the car.

“Are you like a fan or something?” Y/n curiously questioned once she was settled, glancing at Wonyoung while slightly rolling down the window to let out the smoke just like the driver's side window was down. It let in the cool breeze and prevented the smoke from lingering longer than needed. 

Wonyoung scoffed out a short laugh at the question, the singer rather fixated on her being a fan because she was going to let her stay the night. “Tickets to big bands are too expensive for me and there’s been a buzz about your band…You take what you can.” 

Y/n laughed at the reply, eyes crinkling as the grin stayed until it turned to a softer smile. She shook her head and reached into her pocket once more with her free hand, throwing the butt of the cigarette out the window. 

The speakers in the car played the album Paranoid by Black Sabbath, the CD case lying on the dashboard with a few other cases. Y/n took out the stolen MP3 from her pocket, not having money to buy a device that expensive she found a different way to get one. With that, she turned off the music and the blasting from the wired headphones stopped as she took them off. 

“I can’t deny that you guys have great songs and you, a great voice.” Wonyoung complimented as even if the band was just a try after hearing the buzz about them, they did catch her attention because it was just what she liked. A mix of grunge, alt, heavy metal and punk rock with lyrics sung raw and with emotion. 

She ashed the cigarette out the window while looking at the girl who reached into the back seat, blatantly, not minding that she was in a mini skirt and Wonyoung did not mind it either as her eyes beckoned at the exposed skin of her long legs and further, getting a glimpse of the black lace underwear.

Y/n let out a breath, Wonyoung’s eyes went back to the road when she sat back in the seat after shoving her headphones into her duffle bag. The car smelled of cigarettes and sweet vanilla, and there was a faint smell of strawberries as there was an old and aired-out car freshener hanging in the rearview mirror shaped like a strawberry with its colour drained—from how old it was. 

The dark-haired girl looked at the driver of the car as she rested her cheek against her fist, elbow resting by the window that let in cool air. 

“You have a quite soothing voice,” it was almost like a purr coming from Y/n, complimenting Wonyoung’s voice. It made a smile grace her lips as she glanced at the singer, flicking away her cigarette. 

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Wonyoung stated although there had already been a silent agreement between the two of them when they first looked at each other and Wonyoung agreed to let Y/n stay the night. 

There was no denying the mutual attraction that came from looks to music taste and demeanour. 

All Y/n did was shrug while Wonyoung sped through the almost empty street. “You did say you liked my voice and I thought you knew that we would share a bed tonight.” She leered out, pointing out the obvious as neither was going to let this opportunity slip. 

There was a hot girl dressed in grunge, driving Y/n to her place.

A hot lead singer was asking to crash at Wonyoung’s place.

Wonyoung sniffled, Y/n’s eyes catching how her pierced nose scrunched up before trailing further down at the nipples protruding through the thin black shirt. Her skin was catching goosebumps from the breeze let in through the windows. 

“It would be quite nice to hear a lead singer’s voice under different circumstances.” Wonyoung beckoned, welcoming to the idea the singer in question brought up. 

Y/n bit her lower lip and Wonyoung’s eyes landed on her once again, the two constantly glancing at each other. With each glance a heat grew in the cool air of the car, a tension thick enough for a knife not to be able to even cut through it. 

The sexual desires grew with lust hazing in the air, growing like a fog in the morning as Planet Caravan started to play. A fixated look as she trailed her eyes up the exposed stomach of the singer. The light pink butterfly navel jewellery with three dangling gems was just one of the things that caught Wonyoung’s attention.

“And to see the hearts.” She added, seeing the two heart shapes protruding through Y/n’s shirt. Y/n looked down at her chest, the two piercings with heart-shaped jewellery outline showing through the small tee. 

A sly grin came onto the frontwoman’s lips, tongue poking at her canine as her eyes attended to Wonyoung’s body. “Might make you a fan tonight.” It smugly left her lips and Wonyoung chuckled, turning the car and slowing down as she drove into the neighbourhood with fingers tapping against the wheel. 

The two were getting jittery and wanted to make it to the apartment as quickly as possible because their sexual desires and lust would suffocate them both soon enough. 

“What if the roles get reversed?” The witch questioned as she parked the car, stating the possibility of the vixen in her passenger seat becoming the fan tonight. 

The vixen in question let out a breath, questioning herself if she was in love with the woman who parked the car. It wasn’t love—the two of them were just horny and found each other hot in so many ways. 

“Then there’s gonna be trouble.” Y/n gave a heads-up, opening the door just like Wonyoung did as they both got out. Doors slammed closed as the lithe girl opened the backseat and quickly got her stuff. 

The door shut and the car got locked, the bag being slung over the almost sore shoulder once again. Y/n’s eyes looked around the empty neighbourhood as everyone seemed to be asleep at around 2:30 am. Her eyes landed on the two-story apartment building with an external staircase that they were heading towards. Everything was a luxury for the singer who did not have a place to call home yet after getting kicked out of every place. 

“Do you often let band members stay the night?” Y/n asked, looking up at Wonyoung who walked ahead of her on the stairs, catching a glimpse of her ass covered in sheer tights and fishnets. The shaking of the metal stairs resonated through the empty night, leaving an echo as their heavy boots collided with them. 

 “I’m no groupie…You were just convincing enough, hot too.” Wonyoung replied over her shoulder as she didn’t bring any band members home. This was the first one as no one in the other bands had stood out like the girl behind her who made the small stage her playground while delivering vocals with emotions and different techniques depending on the song. 

It felt almost weird for Wonyoung to hear the singer talk as her voice was contrasting to the one she sang with. She’d sing and vocal fry, but spoke in a tone that made it hard to believe she was the same person. It left her more than intrigued and needy for more. 

Y/n smiled at the reply and they reached the second floor and the first door right by the stairs. Wonyoung took out the keys to the door from the small purse she had and inserted the keys into the lethargic keyhole. The door jammed as she twisted the key and bumped it with her shoulder for it to budge open like she always had to open it. With that, she managed to push it open fully and stepped inside, grabbing hold of the wall to remove her boots.

“Where’s the bedroom?” The question left Y/n’s lips the second she stepped inside and closed the door after her. The cursed duffle bag fell to the wooden floor with a loud thud and Y/n somehow managed to pry her heavy boots off her feet, each one falling to the floor with a thud. 

The one-bedroom apartment was dark as the brunette hadn’t turned on any of the lights and instead grabbed the arm of the leather jacket. “Right this way, star.” Wonyoung’s tone was torrid as she pulled Y/n after her, walking through the open kitchen and living room. Guiding her the short distance from one door to another that she pushed open. 

The bedroom was merely lit up by the lamp posts and other passing lights outside that were gandering through the creaks in the blinds. 

Y/n shut the door with her foot and Wonyoung turned around, her eyes murky with lust as she looked at the girl. Her hands clutched onto the lapels of the leather jacket, pulling the frontwoman into her whose lips parted right away when they met Wonyoung’s. 

It was almost tacky how sloppy the kiss got as their slick tongues met—the two loved it. The singer's barbell was pulled at and brushed against Wonyoung’s teeth. Slender hands ran to the back of the witch and grabbed hold of her ass under the mini skirt, gripping the warm and soft flesh between fingers that threaded through the sheer tights and fishnets. 

Wonyoung pulled her closer, breathless moans falling from both girls as she stepped back, pulling Y/n along while tilting her head, her tongue toying with the hard barbell. 

The kiss tasted of vanilla, strawberries, and cigarettes, lip gloss mingling, making Y/n pull back and capture Wonyoung’s lower lip. She sucked on it, tongue dragging along her lips until Wonyoung’s legs hit the bed and Y/n’s hands came up to her small tee. She tugged it over her head, discarding it to the side before shoving Wonyoung to sit on the bed and hastily removing her leather jacket. 

The heat coursed their bodies, everything going south as it throbbed with need between their legs. Y/n’s hand threaded into dark waves as she tilted Wonyoung’s head up, capturing the plump strawberry-tasting lips, pushing the girl back until she had her lying down on the bed. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” That gruffly voice came out from the singer, close to the one she would sing with and Wonyoung’s chest heaved as Y/n’s wet lips ran down from her lips. Kissing down to her jaw almost heedlessly with how messy it was, panting hot air against her skin.

“I’ve left your last two shows all wet because of how hot you’re on stage,” Wonyoung admitted, lost in the moment when lips wetly trailed down to her chest. A gasp fell from her lips at the teeth grazing her hard nipples before getting engulfed in Y/n’s warm mouth. It was enough to make her hips buck at the throbbing between her legs, Y/n’s one hand roughly grabbed hold of her skirt, bodies almost flush against each other. 

“You sure you’re not a groupie?” Y/n humidly chuckled against Wonyoung’s chest before burying her face in the breasts, nipping and sucking at the ample flesh. Faint and needy moans fell from Wonyoung’s lips as she looked down at the band member with her hand in her hair, pushing Y/n further down. 

“Mhm…” Wonyoung breathlessly confirmed and Y/n dropped onto her knees between the girl’s legs on the hard and cold floor. “Never planned on actually fucking you.” Yet here she was, about to fuck with the vixen she only thought of fucking. 

She bit her lower lip, hips lifting off the edge of the bed where she was lying when Y/n hooked her fingers under the skirt and every other piece of clothing. The two were too eager to wait around, wanting nothing more than a taste of the Hellmouth they both were entering through for the night. 

Y/n yanked at the clothes, hearing something rip in the process as she pulled them off of Wonyoung’s legs before she dropped the tights and skirt onto the floor. The brunette was left naked on the bed. Her pussy dripping with need just from the rough and messy handling by the lead singer who kissed her warm thighs. 

Y/n grabbed hold of Wonyoung’s right leg who hooked it over her shoulder before slumping back down onto the bed. Her eyes were on the dark ceiling as her chest heaved before she closed her eyes and drowned in the kisses that were being scattered along her inner thighs. 

Y/n pushed Wonyoung’s other leg further apart, her eyes landing on her dripping cunt and her fingers eagerly came up to her puffy pink folds. The girl’s lips parted with a gasp at the cold fingers that ran through her lips, gathering the slickness and spreading it up to her clit. The small nudge on the bundle of nerves was enough to make her let out a vague whine with thighs tensing up. 

She coated her fingers in Wonyoung’s slickness, spreading her lips with them as she moved forward and kissed the fleshy mound, feeling how Wonyoung stifled her hips from bucking. The brunette's warmth was becoming a sopping mess, the slickness running down to the sheets as Y/n pulled away with her mouth and wetted her lips. Her eyes fell on the clit she revealed by spreading her open with two fingers. 

“Oh–I’m gonna make you fucking dizzy,” she muttered under her breath, lips attaching around the swollen and slick clit—followed by a sharp suckle and flicking of a skilled tongue.

It was enough for Wonyoung to moan, the action being so precipitous that her chest tightened at the gasp she let out, hand flying into the dark hair and fingers tangling in it as her back arched before she slumped back with her other hand clutching onto the sheets. 

Y/n savoured the taste on her tongue, massaging the clit with her tongue, Wonyoung continuously let out small whimpers and gasps as her hips rolled into the girl’s face unable to lay still at the pleasure running through every nerve in her body. Her blood running warmer and making her body heat up even more. 

Y/n’s fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh that rested over her shoulder and pulled her closer to the throbbing cunt. She moved her other hand away from the thigh she was holding onto to keep Wonyoung from closing her legs and moved it down. 

Among the sucking and flicking at her clit, Wonyoung’s stomach tightened in anticipation when she felt two fingers caressing her clenching hole. Y/n brushed her middle finger over it, the wetness letting her easily slip her finger into the warm and tight wetness. Her walls throbbed around her finger as she decided to push in a second one, both fingers getting sucked right in by the girl’s tightness.

“Y/n—” Wonyoung moaned, hand tugging onto her hair, making the latter moan against her heat, working her tongue faster on her clit. 

“Fuck.” She breathed, Y/n’s fingers pressing and caressing her g-spot in a way that was making her thighs spasm and the orgasm quickly build up. Her hips pushed more into Y/n’s face, her pussy squelching from how sopping she was, the warmth around the fingers inside her squeezing as her whole body slowly tensed up. The occasional brush of the barbell against her sensitive clit was making her light-headed and whiny.

“Oh fuck—” It hit Wonyoung so quick, her words fading as she let out a harsh gasp, eyebrows furrowing and mouth falling slack as she arched her back, the back of her head pressing into the mattress. Breathless whimpers and whines fell from her lips as her body convulsed at the orgasm that hit her, being enough to make her ascend for a second before falling back down to earth. 

Y/n slowed down, pulling out her fingers as she dipped her head to lap everything leaking out of her grasping hole. 

Wonyoung heaved for breath as her hot body relaxed with her heart pounding, enjoying the last of the slick muscle cleaning up the mess she was made into. Y/n hummed and pulled away, taking her fingers covered in the latter's juices into her mouth and cleaning them up too. 

Her leg came down from the shoulder and Y/n pulled back, grabbing the hem of her tee and pulling it over her head. The small piece of material got thrown to the side before she stood and Wonyoung sat up. 

The brunette’s grip was harsh as she grabbed hold of the meagre wrist and pulled the girl onto the bed. Y/n’s back hit the soft mattress as she pushed herself up with her head on one of the pillows. Her eyes barely being able to focus because of how uncomfortable the heat between her legs was as Wonyoung crawled over to her and settled herself between her legs. 

Her limber fingers ran along Y/n’s thighs as the witch bit her lower lip, looking at the latter’s chest with two pierced nipples, adorned by heart-shaped jewellery with light pink gems just like the ones in the navel one. Contrasting from the dark grunge clothes she’d dress in. 

“I’m gonna have you running back for more…” Wonyoung mumbled, her fingers hooking under the skirt and pulling it down Y/n’s slim and bruised legs, discarding the piece of underwear in the process too. 

“What do you need me running back for, Wony?” Y/n questioned as the girl on top leaned down, resting her arm beside Y/n’s head. Bodies pressed into each other, the gems of the piercing rough against Wonyoung’s nipples and she chuckled. 

Y/n caught the taller one's lower lip and sucked on it with her hands wrapping around her shoulders. “Free tickets—” She breathed out, kissing down the defined jawline before dipping her head and kissing under it. Her fingers sneakily ran along Y/n’s inner thighs, the wetness smeared and thighs tensing around her body. “And good sex.” She finished while humming when Y/n tugged at her ear with her teeth.

“Better make me feel as good as music does then.” A shaky breath followed Y/n’s words, the puff of air hitting Wonyoung’s ear and making her shiver—her fingers running through the wet folds. Wonyoung’s mouth trailed kisses all over the lead singer’s neck, leaving it wet while her fingers worked to gather the wetness to the bundle of nerves. 

Y/n’s hand grabbed hold of the dark hair, pulling the girl back up as their lips met. It was as messy as before, slick tongues pressing as they both tilted their heads to get more of each other. The whimper from Y/n was muffled by the mouth sucking on her tongue when Wonyoung circled her clit with her fingers. Softly she continued to circle it; teasing as the frontwoman’s hips continued to buck in need. 

She got what she needed and wanted as Wonyoung dipped her hand, swiftly pushing two of her fingers into the tight hole. She pulled away from Y/n, licking up the string of saliva between their lips as she watched the lead singer let out a whimpering moan that was light at the two fingers that started to move in her. 

Wonyoung worked her fingers, flicking her wrist as her palm met the slick and swollen clit, pressing and rubbing. The two long fingers engulfed in the snug pussy rubbed at the soft and spongy g-spot.

Y/n’s grip tightened in Wonyoung’s hair, hips rolling into her hand and the girl between her legs pushed herself up. Her eyes fell between their bodies, the sounds were lewd from the loud and very vocal vocalist and the slickness of her fingers dragging along the warm throbbing walls. 

“I’m not sure where you sound better, Y/n.” Wonyoung let out a satisfied hum and bit her lower lip. 

“Wony—” Y/n stopped and her chest heaved, the said girl stopping her movement for a split second as the heat on top of the singer disappeared together with the two fingers deep in her. 

Wonyoung pushed herself down and got down on her stomach. It was as if her mouth was watering, seemingly deprived of sex and she inserted her fingers back in. “Fuck that’s good.” Y/n hummed, Wonyoung licking up her slit before circling the clit, both of the girls rolling back their eyes—one in pleasure, the other at the addicting taste.

Her head tilted, flicking her tongue as she wrapped her lips around Y/n’s clit, fingers still driving inside the tight hole. Y/n’s back arched, hands tangling in Wonyoung’s hair as her hips moved into the warm mouth, the tongue slick and scalding against her cunt. 

“Shit—I’m gonna write a song about your mouth–oh fuck.” 

Wonyoung smiled at the words, doing her best to pleasure the lead singer with her mouth and fingers after getting an orgasm that made her feel like she ascended for a second. The slim thighs spasmed around her head and she reached her other hand up, cupping under the supple breast that fit right into her palm. Her fingers, toyed with the piercing and nipple as she worked her tongue harder against the clit between her lips. 

She could feel the walls tighten around her fingers, making her press down on the soft wall and continue the movement of her tongue. Fingers pinching and tugging at the hard nipple as Y/n let out whiny and light moans. The mess grew bigger on the sheets with each second, spit and slick covered her chin as her mouth worked sloppily on the girl’s cunt, making it so much more lewd.

Her thighs quivered at the warm tongue dragging and flicking over her clit. It made her head buzz at how deep she could feel Wonyoung’s fingers inside her heat unable to stop how she clenched around them with every movement. The slurping of the girl’s mouth was barely making it to Y/n as her ears grew muffled, not being able to think about anything but how good it felt.

Heat shot through her whole body as her legs tensed up around Wonyoung’s head, the orgasm running through every part of her body as Wonyoung only stopped once she was heaving under her just like she had done. She pulled her fingers out of the pulsating walls and licked everything up before pulling away, clearing her fingers with her tongue too while sitting back on her heels. 

“Song worthy?” She questioned with a sly smirk and Y/n hummed, pushing herself up and grabbing hold of Wonyoung’s wrist. “Totally, but this whole night is gonna be song-worthy.” She let the girl know, making her straddle her thigh, the wet heat pressing against the skin of it. Their lips met once again as she gripped Wonyoung’s hips, guiding her to roll them. 

masterlist

[saddleups]

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒.

★ STATUS . . . ongoing, arthur morgan x f!reader. 18+ smut mdni !!

★ CW . . . voyeurism, female masturbation, male masturbation, arthur's kind of a meanie.

★ SUMMARY . . . recently welcomed into dutch van der linde's gang, has a tense first encounter with arthur morgan, who is suspicious of her and questions her trustworthiness. after a sharp exchange, she withdraws to her tent to find solace. meanwhile, arthur, tasked with returning her forgotten journal, approaches her tent but hesitates when he sees the intimate silhouette of her body through the illuminated canvas.

★ AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . really don't know what washed over me. this was initially meant as a drabble , but somehow bloomed into what is going to be a continuing story. as the start of the story, it's loaded with "setting the scene" mostly to establish a dynamic between the reader and arthur. however , it does get spicy towards the end ;)

An orphan, a wanderer, and most notably, a thief for hire. Your occupation brought you countless adversaries, shaped by a lifetime of hardship. The Wild West wasn’t forgiving, especially for someone like you. It forced you to compromise whatever moral compass you’d developed, exchanging it for a life filled with unsavory characters. Your skills became notorious in Lemoyne, earning you a wanted poster of your own—though the paltry $3,000 bounty made you wonder if the authorities truly knew your worth.

One man, however, saw your potential: Dutch Van der Linde. Knowing Dutch’s reputation, you were well aware there was no honor among thieves, but the price he offered for your services was one you couldn't afford to refuse.

"I'm a man who keeps his word," Dutch said, locking eyes with you. You stiffened momentarily, your guard raised.

"And if you don’t, I’ll have you dead," you warned, your voice steady.

Dutch chuckled, raising his palms in mock surrender. "I'll take you to my camp, introduce you to my people," he said, patting his chest for emphasis. "I take care of my own. I'll take care of you too, ma’am, ya hear?"

You clenched your jaw, swallowing hard before releasing a sigh. Camps, people—these weren't things you were accustomed to. Yet, the promise of a warm fire and a decent meal was hard to ignore. Stepping forward, you motioned with your boot. "Be a gentleman and lead the way."

Dutch quickened his pace, guiding you to his horse. Retrieving your own, you both rode off toward the confines of Clemens Point.

As you arrived at the secluded camp, the thick forest enveloped the intimate commune. Pulling on the reins, your horse came to a halt behind Dutch’s. He dismounted and extended a hand to help you down. You ignored his gesture, earning another chuckle.

"Your independence is admirable," Dutch said, amused. "Maybe you'll set a good example."

"I won’t be staying long," you replied curtly.

Dutch nodded, unfazed. "Come on, now, lemme introduce ya."

You followed behind him, scanning your surroundings, planning your escape if needed. Clemens Point had its rustic charm, much like the rest of Lemoyne, but it wasn’t a place you intended to linger. As you approached the heart of the camp, the residents began to take notice. Some watched from a distance, while others stepped closer. You stayed close to Dutch, observing the crowd.

"Bring a lady for the night?" one man jeered. You tried to get a glimpse of the man behind such a crude remark, catching only the sight of a weathered hat adorned with a feather.

"It ain’t like that," Dutch countered.

"Well, if she’s with you, she sure ain’t cheap," the man sneered.

You felt anger flare in your chest.

"Arthur!" Dutch barked.

So, that was his name—Arthur.

Stepping out from behind Dutch, you made yourself visible to the Van der Linde gang, especially the man at the center of it all.

He was tall, built like a seasoned gunslinger, with the brim of his hat pulled low, hiding much of his face. But from your shorter vantage point, you could see beneath the brim—strands of sandy brown hair fell just above his eyes. You squinted, trying to get a clearer look at the man responsible for the comment.

"My, my," Arthur drawled, his voice low. "What do we have here, then?"

You stared Arthur down, unfazed by his comment. “What you have here,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “is someone who doesn't take kindly to men who don’t watch their tongues.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Bold. I like that.” He crossed his arms, eyeing you with a mix of amusement and curiosity. “But talk’s cheap out here, darlin’. You gonna back it up?”

You took a step closer, not backing down. “Guess you’ll find out soon enough, cowboy.”

Before things could escalate further, Dutch stepped in between the two of you, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “Now, now, let’s all calm down, shall we?” He chuckled as though this kind of exchange was nothing new. “Arthur, meet our new friend here. She’s more than capable, I assure you. She’s got quite the reputation—thief for hire, and from what I’ve heard, she’s damn good at it.”

Arthur’s gaze flickered to Dutch, then back to you. His smile faded, replaced by a skeptical scowl. “A thief, huh?” He tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “And you’re just gonna bring her into camp, just like that? You don’t think maybe we oughta vet her a little first? Or better yet, see if she’s worth her salt?”

Dutch sighed, clearly accustomed to Arthur’s protective nature. “Arthur, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I wouldn’t bring someone into our fold if I didn’t believe in their abilities. You, of all people, should trust me on that.”

Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. “It ain’t about trust, Dutch. It’s about common sense. You’re always bringing in strays, but how do we know she’s as good as you say? How do we know she ain’t just gonna take what she wants and bolt?”

You folded your arms, feeling the heat of Arthur’s scrutiny, but before Dutch could respond, you cut in.

“If I wanted to bolt, I wouldn’t be standing here listening to you question me like some washed-up lawman,” you said flatly. “And as for being good at what I do… Why don’t you give me a chance to prove it?”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, his expression unreadable for a moment. The tension was thick between the two of you, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air.

Dutch clapped his hands together, cutting through the silence. “See? That’s the spirit! Let’s not get too hung up on doubts and suspicions. Besides, Arthur, you know better than anyone—we all had to start somewhere.”

Arthur shook his head, still unconvinced, but his tone softened slightly. “Fine. But if she messes up, Dutch, it’s on you.”

Dutch grinned. “I’ll take full responsibility. You’ll see, Arthur—she’s gonna fit right in.”

Arthur gave you one last look, his blue eyes hard, but he stepped back, leaving the matter for now. “We’ll see,” he muttered, turning his back to head deeper into the camp.

As he walked away, Dutch leaned in close, speaking just low enough for you to hear. “Don’t worry about Arthur. He’s always cautious with new faces, but once you prove yourself, he’ll have your back. Just give it time.”

You nodded, though your eyes remained fixed on Arthur’s retreating form. “I’ll prove myself, alright. To everyone.”

Dutch patted you on the back, his voice light once again. “That’s the spirit. Now, let’s get you settled in.”

Your shoulders relax slightly when Dutch introduces you to another, kinder member of the camp—Mary-Beth. With a warm smile, she takes it upon herself to show you around. As she guides you through the camp, she explains the delicate intricacies and rich history the Van der Linde gang has accumulated over time. Her warmth is disarming, and though you find her friendliness endearing, your guard remains firmly in place.

As the day gives way to night, the camp grows lively. The smell of roasting meat fills the air, and the sound of laughter and clinking bottles echoes around the fire. Everyone seems to be enjoying the night, drinks in hand and plates full. You sit beside Dutch, notebook in hand, writing down the events of the day—your observations, the faces you’ve encountered, and your thoughts on the gang’s dynamics.

Dutch glances over your shoulder, a grin tugging at his lips. “Writing a novel already?” he teases.

You smirk but keep writing. “Just taking notes, is all.”

With a chuckle, Dutch pats your shoulder. “Well, don’t let me interrupt your musings. I’m gonna get myself another drink.” He stands, leaving his spot beside you empty for just a moment.

Before you can settle back into your thoughts, Arthur takes Dutch’s place without so much as a word. You immediately tense, looking up from your journal in annoyance.

“I didn’t invite you to sit,” you snap.

Arthur leans back, crossing his arms, clearly unbothered by your protest. “I’m just doin’ my due diligence,” he says with a casual shrug. “Lead enforcer and all that. Gotta make sure you ain’t some rat lookin’ to get us all killed.”

You narrow your eyes at him, anger bubbling up. “A rat? You don’t know a thing about me.”

“I know enough,” Arthur retorts, his gaze hard. “You waltz in here, Dutch vouches for ya, but me? I don’t trust anyone that quick. Seen too many faces come and go. Some good, some… not so much.”

You bite your tongue, forcing yourself to stay calm. “I don’t have anything to prove to you, Arthur.”

His stare lingers on you, unflinching. “Maybe not. But until I see otherwise, I’ll keep an eye on you.”

The tension between you is palpable, and despite the fire’s warmth, you feel a chill settle in your bones. This is why you hated dealing with people. No matter what you did, someone was always suspicious, always trying to dig into things that weren’t their business. You snap your journal shut, your patience worn thin.

“I’m done here,” you mutter, standing abruptly. “I didn’t come here for this.”

You walk away from the campfire, the weight of Arthur’s gaze following you as you disappear into the shadows. As you distance yourself from the group, you hear a voice call out.

“Arthur, you really can be an asshole sometimes, you know that?”

It’s Hosea, who had been watching the exchange from a distance. His tone is firm, but there’s an edge of disappointment in it. Arthur grumbles in response, shifting uncomfortably.

“Just doin’ my job, Hosea,” Arthur mutters defensively, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes—regret, maybe.

Hosea shakes his head. “Yeah, well, you could stand to be a little more welcoming.”

As Hosea walks away, Arthur notices something on the ground beside him—your journal. You must have left it behind in your rush to escape the conversation. He picks it up, flipping it over in his hands, his expression softening for a brief moment. He exhales a long breath while he debates with himself, glancing in the direction you disappeared, wondering if he should bring it to you.

Storming away from the campfire, you mutter under your breath. "Should've known better than to get mixed up in this." The tension Arthur brought upon you still burns in your chest. Now, away from the glimmer of the camp you question why you even agreed to Dutch's offer.

Quickly the weight of reality sets in. The promise of money looms heavy, more than you've ever made in one place. Enough to change your life, if things go smoothly. And then there's the camp —more than just a place to lay your head. It has food, shelter, warmth, and plenty of drink, luxuries you haven’t had in a long while. The thought alone makes your stomach growl, reminding you of the times you’ve gone hungry for days on end. A little discomfort with people like Arthur might just be the price you have to pay to survive this.

With a resigned sigh, you make your way toward your tent, situated near the lake, away from the central campfire. The sounds of laughter and idle chatter slowly fade, replaced by the gentle lapping of the water and the rustling of the trees in the night breeze. The solitude brings you a moment of peace.

Inside the privacy of your tent, you begin to undress. Shedding your coat, shirt, and pants, you remain in your undergarments, your body finally relaxing after a long day. You sit down on the edge of your bedroll, running a hand through your hair, letting yourself unwind. The faint sounds of the camp are distant now, just a quiet hum in the background. For the first time all day, you feel like you can breathe.

You sink deeper into the quiet, trying to escape the frustration that still simmers after your run-in with Arthur. His suspicion and brash attitude had only amplified the uncertainty you already felt about your place here. But in this moment, alone in the privacy of your tent, you allow yourself a rare moment of vulnerability.

The day’s exhaustion has left your body aching, and as you lie back on the bedroll in nothing but your undergarments, your mind drifts, seeking comfort in the solitude. The warmth of the lamp glows around you, its light illuminating the canvas tent, casting your shadow against the fabric walls.

Meanwhile, outside Arthur approaches the tent with your journal firmly in his grasp. His steps are quiet, almost hesitant has he nears. From the outside, the soft light from your oil lamp betrays the outline of your figure through the thin material of the tent. He pauses, eyes narrowing as he makes out your shape, it stops him in his tracks.

"What in the hell is she up to?"

As the glow from the lantern outlines your curves, you move with an intensity that betrays the calm facade you usually project. Your guard is down, and in this moment of vulnerability, your form is unmistakable. Your hands roam freely over your body, pressing, squeezing, tugging at the fabric of your undergarments. Even in solitude, you tease yourself, building anticipation for the release that awaits.

Your fingers reach up to hold your breasts, pinching the hardened buds as a loud moan escapes your lips and echoes through the tent. Arthur watches silently from outside, his breath catching as he realizes what's happening. His initial intention of returning the journal completely fades away as he becomes transfixed by the intimacy of the scene unfolding before him. He feels like an intruder but can't bring himself to look away.

Lost in pleasure, you lie back and let your hand trail down to your center, seeking refuge in the coarse hair. Gripping tightly, you insert a single digit into your core and feel a rush of wetness surround it as you sink deeper and deeper. Your breathing quickens and unbeknownst to you, the quiet rhythm of your movements is not confined to the tent. You whimper for more, "ple-please, give it to me. i want more," caving release from the stress that has consumed you since arriving here.

Watching from afar, Arthur feels his primal instincts kick in but fights them off with all his might. His sense of honor wavers as he struggles against his own desires. The tightness of his jeans and gun belt only add to his physical discomfort as he closes his eyes tightly, trying to resist temptation.

Meanwhile, inside the tent, you continue to lose yourself in ecstasy, completely oblivious to anything else in the world. Your moans grow louder and more desperate as your fingers quicken their pace inside of you. The sounds of squelching flesh mixed with your cries fill the night air as you beg for more.

Arthur finally gives in to his conscience and with one last look at the tent, he pulls away and retreats into the darkness. "The hell you doing, you pervert?" he curses himself as he walks away, leaving you to your privacy and pleasure. The intense moment has passed, but the memory lingers in Arthur's mind, igniting a curiosity about what else lies behind that sharp tongue of yours.

A man still had his urges.

Your journal finds its temporary home in Arthur's pocket. The heat of the moment lingers in his chest, an ache he can’t quite shake. His body tenses, and the desire to escape the situation grows stronger with every step. He moves quickly through the camp, intent on retreating to his own quarters and pushing away the thoughts still buzzing in his mind.

But just as he rounds a corner, he spots Dutch leaning against a post, nursing a drink and chatting with one of the gang members. Dutch’s keen eyes lock onto Arthur almost immediately, and before Arthur can disappear, Dutch calls out.

“Arthur!” Dutch’s voice cuts through the campfire chatter. “Where’d our new friend wander off to?”

Arthur stiffens, his eyes darting briefly before he forces himself to face Dutch. “She, uh… she’s at her tent,” Arthur mutters, his tone gruff as he shifts his weight awkwardly. Hands firmly grasp his gun belt and a satchel that once sat on the side of his hip is awkwardly placed at the center of his core, disguising what throbbed underneath.

Dutch raises an eyebrow, clearly sensing something off. “You sure about that? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or… something else.” There’s a smirk tugging at the corner of Dutch’s mouth, amused by Arthur’s discomfort.

Arthur avoids eye contact, the urge he’s trying to suppress making it difficult to keep his composure. “Ain’t nothin’. Just tired, Dutch. Been a long day.”

Dutch takes a swig of his drink, watching Arthur closely, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Arthur flustered. “Right, right. Well, if you see her, let her know she’s always welcome to sit by the fire.”

Arthur grunts, eager to end the conversation. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Dutch takes another sip and, with a knowing chuckle, waves him off. “Get some rest, Arthur. You look like you need it.”

Without another word, Arthur quickly shoos Dutch away with a curt nod and makes a beeline for his tent. The moment Dutch turns his attention back to the campfire, Arthur lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, his footsteps quickening.

Finally reaching the safety of his own tent, a shaky hand, Arthur pushes through the canvas flap. He collapse onto his cot with heavy breaths. Images rush through his mind like a raging river - your body outlined in flickering light, the softness of your movements, and the burning desire that he can't seem to shake.

He lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling with shallow breaths as he replays the memory over and over again. His fists clench at his sides, frustration and longing coursing through him. It's been too long since anything has affected him this deeply.

As someone no stranger to temptation, Arthur knows the pull of the flesh all too well. But this moment with you felt different - more intimate, more real. The vulnerability he saw in you makes it impossible for him to simply brush off the encounter.

Running a hand through his hair in frustration, he tries to push the thoughts away, but they cling to him like thorns. The tension in his body only grows, refusing to let go even in the quiet of the night.

"Damn it," he mutters under his breath, rolling onto his side in an attempt to distract himself. But it's no use - your silhouette, bathed in lamplight, is burned into his mind.

Sitting up abruptly, Arthur grips the ends of his cot tightly as he stares at the ground beneath him. He lets out a frustrated sigh and runs a hand over his face, trying to rub away the persistent thoughts. But they only intensify in the darkness of his tent, driving him to take action.

Without hesitation, he untucks his flannel and removes his gunbelt before freeing himself from his trousers. His arousal is already evident as his length throbs against his palm. Unlike you, who sought relaxation in these moments alone, Arthur seeks indulgence.

Spitting into his palm for lubrication, he grips his cock tightly and sinks his weight onto the cot, groaning at the sensation. His ankles are freed from his trousers as he spreads his legs wider, giving himself more room to move. With each stroke of his hand, he can feel the tension slowly dissipating, replaced by a raw need for pleasure.

His hand moves with urgency and desperation, his thumb frequently visits the tip of his cock gathering the liquid before slipping it down his length. The sounds of your pleasure entertain his memory, your gentle pleas for pleasure make him whimper, "take it, woman. t-take it all." He feels like a fool but he can't suppress the praises he's eager to provide, "like a g-good girl."

His moans were deep and gravelly, resonating with the same desperate desire that you had been yearning for. As he released his essence into his palm, the sticky substance leaked between his fingers. He caught his breath with his eyes tightly shut, murmuring a curse under his breath, "damn woman." Somehow, this was all your fault.

Arthur reached for a handkerchief to clean himself off, wiping away the evidence of his passion. He adjusted himself before settling onto his cot with a sense of contentment, ready to spend the evening in peaceful slumber. The quiet rustle of the sheets echoed through the room as he settled in, still feeling the lingering effects of your intense encounter.

NEXT CHAPTER.

[mx-pastelwriting]

RDR2 HC - Running away together & what would it take

RDR2 x GN! Reader

Summary: Running away together & what would it take for them to.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Established Relationship, Running away, Some Happy Endings

Characters: Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Bill Williamson, Hosea Matthews, John Marston, Josiah Trelawny

Dutch van der Linde

- A hard task in itself, prying Dutch away from his power over the gang, it's an almost impossible task. Though echoing Hosea's words to lie low would earn you some time in having a voice over Micah's, he would consider it.

- Nightly talks cuddled up in his arms, imagining life away from the one you have aloud; he entertains it, but not without saying some doubtful scenarios. Having to change your ways, almost manipulating him into taking that life as a real thing.

- Never leaving his side, hearing every thought, not giving Micah a chance to talk to him in private, in turn driving you crazy. Doing anything for that good life, leaving your intentions to change just to get your Dutch safe.

- Every day drained you; all that work had finally caught up to you. Slowly, you lost faith as the gang came into more trouble, making you come to a realization. You made your choice.

- A night of loving Dutch one more time, cuddled up into his arms, then having to leave them. Leaving him in a deep sleep with a final kiss. Taking your horse he had gotten for you a long time ago and what little clothes you had left from all the years of running. Finally leaving in the cold night, not daring to look back.

A year had gone by, and still you dreamt about that day and its many outcomes, but all you could do was smile at the memory of his messed hair loving him for that final night. Telling yourself over and over that it spared the both of you, there was no use to keep trying. Leaving to build your own life, living out your dream that you tried so hard to convince Dutch of so many times.

He would have loved it, just the two of you; he just couldn't see it. Getting up from your bed, dressing up for the day, and having to live off of the small land you fought to get months after. Making your way to the kitchen, readying breakfast before your day of work, but a knock interrupts you from the task.

Grabbing your old weapon, hoping it still worked, then walking slowly to the door, pointing the weapon from your hip. Upon opening the door, your mind and body went blank. Dutch was standing at your front door, looking like shit. "Dear," he says, voice cracking. Even after all this time, he charmed his way into your heart, igniting your love again.

-

Arthur Morgan

- You both have always talked about that kind of life and what it would be like, but it always ended as a joke and never as something to look forward to. Until you really thought about it, hearing Hosea's story of him and his wife fed into your dream.

- Bring it up to Arthur one night, making sure he took it seriously, not knowing what to say, only he couldn't leave the gang just like that. Over time, you pushed the matter, and he always listened but never said anything.

- Being with the gang for a long time, you watched it change as Dutch came into more trouble. Finally, it hit a breaking point when Arthur went missing from the meeting with Colm O'Driscoll. The camp had to calm you down, but it didn't stop the tears every night, fighting your mind to just leave, but it turned to worry that if he'd come back, you needed to be there for him.

- After days of the gang searching, you finally spotted Arthur's house with him on top, thinking you had just gone crazy. Hearing his groans of pain, you ran to him, crying aloud, causing the camp to spring into action, with some having to hold you back so the rest could work.

- After an hour of working on him finally letting you see him, never leaving his side as you waited for him to wake. Hosea brought you something to eat every day, knowing what you had been going through.

Snapping from your exhausted state as a groan came from Arthur, watching as he stirred from his rest. Tears once again spilled from your eyes while grabbing his hand and placing it to your cheek. Waking fully, he whispered your name, running a hand through his hair earning a hum from him as he rested his eyes once again.

"I thought you were dead," you whispered, kissing his hand earning another hum. "Okay," he whispered weakly, making you look at him meeting his blue-green eyes. Taking a minute for you to understand, you nodded, "Tonight." You responded, getting only a weak nod back. Quickly getting up to then plant a kiss on his lips before preparing your leave.

-

Javier Escuella

- Being so loyal to Dutch, as soon as you'd bring that idea of life up, he'd tell you of the time he tried to find that kind of life, with it ending with Dutch saving him, in turn needing to repay Dutch with his life. A life for a life.

- Still, of course, you stayed with him, but it didn't stop you from trying. From mentioning small things, such as telling him to look at the homesteads as you passed them or talking to couples who owned their land, hearing the stories of home life making sure Javier was near you to hear.

- Wishing aloud to love him behind closed doors, but he brought up the suggestion of a hotel quickly you shot it down with wishes of loving him in your own home. Unknown to you, it wasn't till the end that he would change his mind.

- Seeing as he buddied up with Micah breaking your heart, seeing what Micah did to Dutch, there would be no way he would sink his claws into your Javier. Realizing it even more after hearing Arthur's words confirming your Javiers changed, solidifying your thoughts. Having to do the only thing that was left.

- Grabbing a bag, you started to stuff your things into it. Hearing footsteps come closer, you didn't look up, knowing who it was. When asking what you were doing, you told him you were leaving him. Shocked, he begged, but you gave it to him in the end, giving him an ultimatum. You or Dutch.

Pain washed over his face. He looked to the floor, hoping it would have the answer, but you continued packing. "Amor," he begged, but you kept your back to him as much as it pained you. "I can't do this, Javi," you say, tears stinging the brim of your eyes. "Tell me," he says, putting a hand on yours.

"All of this, you hate Micah. What changed?" You asked, making him look away, but you brought his face back softly with your hand. Cupping his face, "I know you see it. He's not well. I'm not going to stick around anymore, Javi," you say, turning to zip up your bag.

"It's your choice," you say before grabbing a few more things. "I can't," he says weakly. "Okay," saying your final words before walking to the horses, putting your things onto yours before hopping onto your horse.

Taking a last look at the camp, not caring who chose to look. Hearing as the horse next to you stirred, looking to see Javier hop on his with his belongings behind him. Smiling at each other, you turned away from camp, taking off quickly to start your new life.

-

Charles Smith

- Having been in the gang for a small amount of time, he had never shut down the idea, though never did he start to make plans on it. Figuring it was from his friendships with Arthur and John or him just settling in having run with him before the gang, you were of course thankful for them taking you both in, but shaking off the idea was never going to happen.

- Taking long rides on the days he got off, hugging his waist while resting your head on his back, talking about many things: camp gossip, your past travels, the future. Sometimes passing by a homestead watching as the people worked away at their land, imagining out loud how that would be, it would be better than always running.

- He loved you dearly; it pained him whenever leaving you to do a job with the gang, but you hated it more when he came to you from a watch stumbling on his tired feet to then crashing into your arms falling asleep before he could even mumble, "I love you.".

- Making his choice after the bank job that had gone wrong, having to bury Hosea and Lenny's bodies, the both of you talked about the decision ending with a kiss and the start of packing your things. Though quickly interrupted by the law, causing you to run once again, making you both stick around the gang a little longer.

- Knowing it put the both of you in more danger, he tried to make it quick by using the gang to help the tribe, only meeting them once by going with him, you understood. Finally, the day came telling only Arthur and John and those closest to you, getting hugs and wishes of luck to your new life.

Waking to the cooing of birds wrapped in the warmth of Charles's arms, hearing him snore softly, kissing his scared cheek, waking him from his slumber earning a smile. Looking at you with tired brown eyes, taking a moment to admire your well-rested faces.

Wiggling out of his arms with an objection as he tightened them, making you both laugh before you headed off to the kitchen in your homestead, but not without getting dressed first from the night before. Having been years since that day, leading to a new life, though the past caught up a year later, causing Charles to go with John just to make Dutch and Micah pay for all those years ago.

Of course, coming back to you with a bullet in the shoulder and a promise to never leave you again, from John's home, you both made it up to Canada, living out your dream of a homestead. Ending your reminisce on the past as Charles wraps his arms around you once more, kissing your neck softly while you readied the morning drinks.

-

Bill Williamson

- It had never been an idea to the both of you from all the years you ran with the gang until going into town. Seeing how a couple talked about their lives after getting that first taste of that kind of life, you never looked back.

- Not telling Bill at first, wanting him away from Dutch a bit before springing it upon him after one of your hotel nights away, he entertained your thoughts, though laughing at some parts until he realized you were serious.

- His first feeling was anger at how he could never do that to Dutch, but you argued that Dutch doesn't control your lives. Finally, he calmed down, telling you he looked up to Dutch. Knowing how he wanted the limelight that Arthur and John had, you convinced him that even if it was painful to say and hear, he would never be them. His obsession can't control him.

- Even though he listened with understanding, even agreeing, he told you the time wasn't right. Giving your understanding back to his reasoning, you stayed with him. But things didn't stay still for forever.

- The bank job had gone wrong with the law running you out of Shady Bell, feeling as if it was years before you got Bill back in your arms after hearing tales of him on Guarma. Having enough, you started to pack your things, causing Bill to freak. Hearing none of it, you gave him a choice. Hoping he would pick the right one.

Standing in front of your horse, holding your bag tightly, "I've hit the end, Bill; I-I can't. I can't stay up every night hoping you're alive; it's not fair to me or you." You choked through your words, causing a scene for the whole camp to see, but you didn't care; you were done.

Seeing his hesitant look back at Dutch, who watched on calmly, you had your answer. His continuous seek for approval from Dutch would never stop, and you weren't going to be around to watch it kill him or you.

-

Hosea Matthews

- Having left before he would hear the idea once again, not shooting it down immediately though ending your talk with how his story ended, right back where he started.

- As time went on, his coughs had gotten worse, as well as his attitude towards it, helping with his cough fits earned a hand wave and a choked-out "I'm fine." But you kept pushing, knowing if it was the end for him, it should be anywhere but running with the gang.

- Bringing it up more, he entertained it a bit more, but other reasons would always pop up after, trying to understand you let it go after every talk. As the gang settled into Shady Bell slowly, you noticed that he became even worse; he barely came to bed, but when he did stumble in, smelling of booze, giving you a slurred "I love you" before snoring away.

- Not waiting for his final say any longer, you slowly packed your things over the days, making sure both of your horses were ready to go in the night. Thankfully, you met a couple who knew of a cabin not too far away at a cheap price. Saving up quickly, you bought the cabin, leaving it to wait for you. Taking note of when the watch shifts change and when the camp dies down for the night.

- Finally, you made your move. As Hosea stumbled into being his familiar drunk self, you went into action, calling his horse over by the back door quietly loading on what little you had left. Then, waking Hosea leading him to the horse with false words, finally, you were ready with Hosea in a drunken sleep on your back, fleeing into the dark swamp.

Riding through the night, keeping Hosea on the horse, with luck, you made it through the swamp and into the forest on your way to the cabin. Not knowing how long this would last not even sure if this was a new life. "Just enough for you to rest," you whispered into the cold night air.

Making it to the cabin, using all your strength to get him in the cabin, laying him on the bed, tucking him. Going back out, taking your things from his and your horses, then letting them rest in the small stable for the next few days.

Waking into the morning still hearing Hosea's snores with his warm arms around you. Slowly, you get up, readying his medicine, hoping he'll understand your actions. Being all for him in the end.

-

John Marston

- Having entertained the idea only came up two times. The first was for one of Hosea's cons, having you and John play as a married couple that lived on a farm just for another couple who actually lived on a farm to come along to buy into Hosea's con.

- As years went on, seeing how the gang dwindled, thankful for not taking your John, but not without a scare and a promise to stay with you. Getting out of the snow, helping John to Horseshoe Overlook, fighting to keep him down, and resting. John made a joke about you being his spouse and having a little farm. That was the second time.

- John wasn't the only one with that joke; being protective over him, Hosea started to joke about how the con act ended long ago, but you were still acting the part.

- Finally, John was ready for jobs again, so you loosened your protection, though you weren't afraid to give it to Dutch if he came back with so much as a small scratch. Furthering that joke in the camp led you two to talk. John agreed to the possibility, but it was different in his mind. You saw it coming sooner than him.

- Sadly, it wasn't until the very end you could live out that idea. The gang fell apart, pushing you both towards Strawberry, but not without making a rule for yourself. Never to live that life again. It was easier said than done. John helped the framer, and you fled, leaving your John behind.

Reading the letter over again as the carriage hit every bump on the road, making your impatience worse. Finally stopping, not wanting to look out the window, needing to see him up close, you hurried out.

Standing there face-to-face with your John, having been gone for so many months, your eyes stinging as you wrapped your arms tightly around him. "It's over," he whispered into your ear, making the threatening tears spill, tightening your hold, not wanting to let him go again.

-

Josiah Trelawny

- Living that dream already in Saint Denis, but unbeknownst to you, Josiah had dealings with a gang. Hearing the name of the gang from officers around town yet not thinking anything of them. Not even questioning his absence at home as his "office work" makes him travel a lot.

- Loving the stories of his travels made you susceptible to listening for things, but never did you think you'd hear about your husband from an officer's mouth on the street. Then the next day, another questioned you on your doorstep, being very hostile and pushing past you just to find nothing, but before leaving, accusing you of dealing with the "Van Der Linde Gang.".

- Hearing nothing from your Josiah in the few passing days got you worried—maybe you didn't know the man you married. Though finally, you saw him as he crawled up the stairs of your Saint Denis home, the sight brought you to tears.

- The damage to him was heartbreaking. He groaned and hissed through his teeth as you cleaned up his bloody wounds, then bandaged them up. Saying nothing, you let the silence fall with his story quickly following, but you didn't let him finish.

- Saying the name of the gang, seeing how his face turned pale. Telling him of what transpired days before, hit you hard speaking of what you knew out loud to him. Starting with a sigh, he told you everything with a voice filled with shame.

"Stop," you said, interrupting his explanation, doing as you said, looking to you. Not being able to handle the sight of him knowing every cut or possible broken bone was because of his deals with the gang. You started to question whether the life you built was even real; was the love you got from him even real?

"Love," he pleaded, placing a hand on yours looking into the eyes you fell in love with so many times. Still, you held your ground. "No more J," you say, making him look down watching as he nodded. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his upper back and shoulders, hugging him as he sat in your home, where he belonged.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

[lewisvinga]

million dollar man | lance stroll x fem! reader

summary; in the world of her million dollar man, y/n can’t help but feel like a lost puppy and stick out like a sore thumb leading to mess of jumbled feelings.

warnings; insecurities esp around money, reader is mentioned to be a healthcare worker/nurse

word count; 1.2k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; i can’t tell yall the amount of times i’ve thought of this fic ever since i started the born to die series 😭😭😭😭 but i rlly let out my obsession w these luxuries out here 🫣🫣

‘born to die’ series masterlist.

masterlist !

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“Why don’t you wear your new necklace? The one that your fiancé got you.”

Y/n could hear the smile in Lance’s voice as she stood in the bathroom adding the finishing touches to her makeup. “Yeah, because a Serpent around my neck would match the floral look.” She snorted, referring to the Bulgari necklace he had gotten her the week prior.

“I mean, you haven’t worn it yet. Where else would you showcase it for the first time other than your own engagement party?”

“Because it doesn’t match.”

What she said was partially the truth. The serpent necklace didn’t match her 3 thousand-dollar Oscar De La Renta dress.

It didn’t match with the gold Rolex on her left wrist or the diamond-encrusted Cartier love bangle, Juste un Clou, and the Van Cleef bracelet on her right wrist. Nor did it match the giant diamond engagement ring adorning her ring finger.

It didn’t match her white Louboutin heels nor did it go with the 20-motif Van Cleef Alhambra necklace.

It didn’t match her and that was her issue.

Y/n never even dreamt of the lifestyle she had been living ever since dating Lance. It was something so unattainable. The expensive bags, jewelry, cars, and private jets, she never even dared to dream of.

She grew up middle class, her parents having enough to be able to put food on the table, and have decent clothes, but not enough to earn them all the luxuries she has now. Sure, her nursing job earned her a decent amount of money, but the necklace her boyfriend had gotten her cost more than her yearly salary and that said enough.

She remembered the look on the faces of Lance’s extended family when they found out she did not come from another rich family and was just a regular pediatric nurse. They immediately assumed she was just with him for money. They talked and talked.

The gossip would become worse whenever Y/n would show up with a new bag or bracelet. She hated it.

She remembered when Lance decided to throw her a huge birthday party. He paid for most of it even if she protested. Not to mention, he gifted her not one but two Hermes mini Kelly’s. She remembered the looks on his aunt's face as she held a rare picnic mini Kelly.

“One for the money, two for the show, right?” He joked, chuckling at her shocked face, and pressed a kiss against her cheek. “I love you, honey.”

“You’re unbelievable, Lance. I love you.”

The same picnic Kelly bag he gifted her was the one she decided to wear with her floral dress. A springtime engagement called for a floral theme engagement party, hence the dress.

Y/n stares at herself in the mirror after applying her Dior lipgloss. She looked like a million-dollar man. She looked so strange like she was unrecognizable. She had the dream life of so many but had no idea why she felt so upset or heartbroken.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t realize Lance had been calling her. “Honey, what’s the matter?” He asked, concern in his voice as he walked into the bathroom all dressed in an expensive suit.

“I hope you’re not getting cold feet before our engagement part.” He joked but his smile immediately fell at her silence. “Are you?”

“No! No!” Y/n quickly exclaimed, turning around and settling her hand on his shoulder. “I’m not getting cold feet, Lance. I want to marry you and I will marry you. It’s just…” Her voice trailed off and she sighed. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.” He mumbled, grasping her hands. His dark eyes were filled with concern as his thick brows furrowed up. She still seemed hesitant to tell him what was on her mind. “Hey, I won’t judge you for what’s on your mind.”

Y/n sighed again as Lance gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “You know I didn’t grow up with this. All of these luxuries, expensive jewelry, even more expensive cars and bags. My nursing job can only cover so much. It can’t cover a quarter of what you give me.”

“And I don’t care!” He exclaimed, “You’re my fiancée. I want to spoil you. It’s my duty to spoil you. I don’t care what they think, I-”

“But I’ve seen the way your aunts stare at me.” She mumbled, looking down at her Louboutins. “I’ve heard their whispers. They just think I’m a gold digger who is only marrying you to have this lifestyle but I couldn’t give two shits about all of this! We could be struggling with money and I’d still want to be with you.”

She sighed as she let go of his hands. She turned around to look at herself through the mirror. “I see a stranger when I’m dressed up like this. I stick out whenever I’m with your family and they all know it. They never try to hide their whispers and they’re right. I don’t fit into this world, Lance. I look like a million dollar man but why does my heart still feel broken?”

“Y’know what I see?” Lance asked as he took a step closer to her, placing his hand on her waist. “I see the most gorgeous woman. Someone so unique and special that she’s like an exotic flower.” He chuckled, running his finger over the strap of her floral dress.

“I see someone who is so brilliant she used her brain to study to help children in need. I see someone with a heart so big, that she works extra shifts just to spend time with her patients no matter how tiring the week has been.” He continued, gently fixing a strand of her hair which made her let out a soft chuckle. “I see my fiancée, the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with despite not growing up in ‘my world’.”

Lance leaned over and kissed Y/n’s cheek. “I see the woman who has always been by my side. I see the woman who will be the mother of my children. I see the woman who has stolen my heart from the day I bumped into her in that cafe.”

He spun her around so she was facing him. She rested her hands on his shoulder once again for stability as his hands held onto her waist. “I don’t see someone strange. I see you.”

She takes a deep breath, her pink lips curled into a smile as her eyes fill with tears. “You always know how to take a girl's breath away, don’t you?”

“Just yours.”

Y/n leaned up and pulled him close to kiss him, not caring if they were going to be made to their own engagement party. “I love you so much, Lance.”

“I love you so much, Y/n. More than anything else in this world.”

She leaned back down with a wide smile on her lips. She takes a deep breath and quickly glances in the mirror to ensure her makeup is still intact.

“Well, we can’t be late to our own engagement party.” Y/n chuckled, grabbing her bag and turning back to Lance. “Shall we go, my million dollar man?”

He kisses the top of her head as a smile matching hers appears on his lips. “Let’s go, my honey.”

[wheels-of-despair]

It's a Wonderful Life (Even in Hawkins) Pairing: Eddie Munson x Evil Woman Summary: What would the lives of Eddie Munson's loved ones look like if he didn't exist? Contains: A bad night for all, a violent outburst, regrets, a bitchy ghost, a peek into another life, a Christmas party, a happy ending. Words: 5k

(This is inspired by It's a Wonderful Life. There are mentions of suicide and visions of a dark world without Eddie Munson. Takes place sometime after graduation.)

Eddie Munson can't wait for the worst night of his life to be over.

He screeches to a stop in front of the garage Corroded Coffin "practices" in and leaps out of the driver's seat, ready to get the band and all their shit out of his van and out of his sight.

"Well that was fucking embarrassing," Gareth grumbles, rolling out the back doors with an armload of equipment.

"We might as well have played kazoos," Jeff adds, yanking out his guitar case.

"Never showing my face in public again," Grant whines, joining the unloading parade.

Eddie fumes and slams the back doors shut. Well, he tries. Instead of latching, they bounce and fly back at him. He gets it on the second, slightly-less-violent, try.

Corroded Coffin just opened for a band from two towns over that people actually show up for. Someone from a record label was in the building. This was supposed to be their shot at getting noticed by someone who mattered. They were supposed to rock everyone's socks off. But no. They played the worst show of their stupid little lives. Even Wayne, who hardly ever got to see them play, looked horrified at the shit-tastic show they put on.

His girl leans against the side of the van, next to the busted taillight that earned him a ticket from that asshole Callahan on the way to the show. Not even she can pretend Corroded Coffin didn't suck a fat one tonight. There's pity in her eyes, and it makes Eddie even madder. He turns and directs his rage at the band, not wanting to crack under her annoying gaze.

"See you dicks around," Eddie snaps. "Since there's no point in ever fucking practicing again."

"C'mon, man," whines Gareth.

"What about the Henderson's Christmas party?" asks Grant.

"At least we can go drown our sorrows in cocoa," Jeff sighs.

They just bombed so hard, they'll probably never be allowed to perform in the tri-county area ever again. Their careers are over before they even started. And they're worried about a shitty little Christmas party thrown by Dustin's mom?

Eddie Munson is mad at himself for being a failure. Mad at his woman for feeling sorry for him. Mad at his dumb band for sucking ass. Mad at the Hendersons for scheduling a party and being a distraction on a night this important. Mad at Wayne for not coming on one of the nights they actually sounded good. Mad at the world for giving him a sliver of hope and snatching it away just when he thought he had a chance of making it big and getting out of Hawkins Fucking Indiana.

He needs to get out of here. Right now. He turns with the intention of stomping to the driver's side door and driving off like a bat out of hell, but she's blocking his way.

"Baby, it's not the end of the world," she says calmly, putting a hand on his chest. The act breaks a barrier and unleashes his barely-contained rage. He smacks her hand away, maybe a little harder than he meant to, and her eyes widen in shock.

"What would you fucking know about it?" Eddie seethes. He can feel the blood boiling and the vein pulsating in his neck. He can't stop. The words keep coming, and Eddie closes in on her. She shrinks. "You've never had a fucking dream! You've never wanted something more than this shitty little life in this shitty little town! I'm sick of you fucking holding me back!"

"Shut the fuck up, man!" Gareth yells, stepping between them and giving Eddie a shove backwards.

"Oh, now you react to something on time?" Eddie laughs cruelly.

There's a blinding flash of pain, and Eddie's suddenly staring to the side. He slowly swivels his head back to Gareth, standing in front of him with balled fists and a red face. Eddie's jaw throbs. Did his own drummer just punch him in the face?

He attacks.

Grant and Jeff are on them in an instant, trying to get Eddie and Gareth apart. Everything becomes a blur of grunts and blows until Jeff gets Eddie's arms behind him and drags him out of the open garage door.

"Cool off, man!"

This isn't how tonight was supposed to go. He was supposed to be signing a contract and sipping spiked cocoa and eating cookies. Kissing his girl under the mistletoe and promising her a mansion in Beverly Hills. Celebrating his talent and good fortune with everyone he loves. Instead, he's standing outside a cold garage, staring at the disappointed faces of all the people he let down.

A sniffle draws his eyes to his girl. His Evil Woman. The love of his fucking life. The look in her teary eyes makes his insides turn to ice. He hit her. He yelled at her, and he fucking hit her. He takes a step closer, wanting to hug her and tell her that he didn't mean it.

She flinches.

She's scared of him.

He's just like his old man.

Eddie climbs in the van without another word. He doesn't know where he's going, but he knows he can't stay here.

He speeds and spirals and re-lives the worst night of his life over and over. It takes him several miles of squinting into the dark to realize his headlights aren't even on. When the van finally comes to a stop, he's at the quarry. He doesn't know why he came here. But by the time he turns off the ignition, he's exhausted from beating himself up.

He slides down from the driver's seat and walks to the edge of the cliff, kicking rocks as he goes. Each breath sends out so much fog, it looks like he's smoking. A smoke would be nice. That'd take the edge off. He pats his pocket for his pack and pulls it out. Empty. Of course.

He tosses the empty pack over the edge and leans over just a little bit, hoping to see it fall. The darkness swallows the little white box almost immediately. It's a long way down. The only light comes from the moon, and it reflects on the still water below like glass. It's both beautiful and unsettling.

The cold starts to seep into his bones, but he welcomes the ache. He deserves it. Eddie sits near the edge, sighing and looking up at the starry sky, wondering how the fuck his friends are ever going to forgive him for this.

Maybe they weren't really that bad. Maybe they tried their best. Maybe he put too much pressure on the younger guys. Maybe the person from the record company didn't even come. Maybe the band that they opened for sucked too, and they could all chalk this horrible evening up to bad acoustics.

Maybe Eddie hadn't just ruined all of the most important things in his life in the course of one night.

His heart hurts at the thought of what he said to his girl, whose only crime was caring about him. Holding him back? Where the fuck did that come from? It's all a little fuzzy, now that he thinks about it.

Eddie touches his swollen jaw and winces. Little Drummer Boy packs a hell of a punch.

He fucking deserves this pain.

Eddie pulls his knees to his chest and hunches over, curling into a ball near the edge of the quarry cliff.

He wishes he hadn't blown up and said those awful things to the person he loves most. He wishes he hadn't forced his friends to practice until their fingers bled. He wishes he'd never begged (and traded a considerable amount of weed) for the chance to play a three-song opener for some douchebag band from the city. He wishes he hadn't turned into a total cunt the second he saw a chance to live out his stupid teenage dream of becoming a rock star.

Hell, why stop there?

Eddie Munson wishes he'd never even been born.

"Don't even think about it, asshole," a voice rumbles from behind him.

Eddie turns, surprised that he let someone sneak up on him. A guy really lets his guard down when he's got nothing left to lose.

An ass thumps against a rock nearby and Eddie squints at the silhouette in the moonlight. That curly hair looks familiar, but he doesn't know for sure who it is until the stranger takes a drag off a cigarette and his face is illuminated by the burning cherry.

"Hargrove?"

"Knew you couldn't be as stupid as everyone said you were." Eddie can't see the smirk, but he can hear it.

"Not a good time, Hargrove," Eddie sighs. "Don't have anything on me."

"I'm not here for drugs, dumbass," Billy says, taking another drag. "I'm here to save your eternal soul or some shit."

"Sounds like you've already been into the good stuff tonight," Eddie deadpans.

"Nobody ever fuckin' believes me," Billy groans, staring upward and blowing a long stream of smoke into the air before turning his intense gaze to Eddie. "Listen up, dickhead. You fucked up, you hurt people, you wished you were never born, et cetera. I was sent here to show you the error of your ways or whatever. Let's take a little trip."

"What is this, like a Christmas Carol thing?" Eddie snorts. "What are you on, man? I want some."

Billy sighs and flicks his cigarette out over the water. He stands and stares at Eddie, his eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Let's go, fuckface," Billy orders.

"I'm not going anywhere with your stoned ass," Eddie laughs, trying to pretend he's not a tiny bit afraid.

Billy stomps over and grabs Eddie's jacket and hauls him to his feet with surprising strength. Maybe he was right to be scared.

"Woah, calm down, Ghost of Christmas PCP," Eddie snarks, sounding braver than he feels.

"I said, let's go," Billy repeats, dragging Eddie backward. Eddie tries to dig in his heels and resist, but his sneakers slip and slide on the loose gravel.

"Where are we going?" Eddie asks, his ears beginning to ring.

A blinding flash of light makes him cover his eyes, and when he lowers his arm and opens them, he's standing in front of Wayne's trailer. The glow of a street lamp shows more of Billy's face than Eddie has seen tonight. He stares at Eddie through unblinking, half-lidded eyes. Eddie doesn't like it. Not one bit.

"Kay, thanks for bringing me home, I owe you one," Eddie mumbles, trying to side-step him and get away. Billy blocks his path.

"This isn't your home."

"Yeah, it is," Eddie argues. "Since I was eight."

"You wished you'd never been born, remember?" Billy asks pointedly. "Now you get to see what that's like."

"Isn't the first ghost supposed to be the nice one?" Eddie asks. "I thought the third one was the mean one."

"You only get one ghost," Billy says. "Only gonna need one stop, too. Made a bet that I could break you quick."

"Good fuckin' luck," Eddie scoffs.

"C'mere," Billy orders, reaching for him.

Eddie feels the urge to bolt, but before he can act on it, Billy grabs him by the collar and drags him up the steps and through the door.

Like, through the door.

"Did we just--? Did you just--? What the hell?!" Eddie splutters, looking around him for answers. The door is still closed. And then he begins to notice other things. This isn't that ugly brown carpet that's been here since the 50s, when this hunk of junk came off the lot. Those aren't the right curtains. Where are Wayne's mugs? And his hats? And his chair?

There's a small Christmas tree on a table by the window and a few wrapped gifts beneath it. There are plastic toys and wooden blocks on the new-ish rug, which is an odd green color. Photos of prettier places than Hawkins adorn the walls. Carefully arranged pillows line a yellow couch that doesn't belong here. Aside from the toys on the floor, it's neater than he's ever seen it. This isn't his house.

"What is this?" he asks, turning to Billy. "Why are we here?"

Billy nods his head toward Eddie's room, and Eddie follows his gaze to a body stepping out of it. A woman. She lingers in the doorway for a moment, then reaches in to flip the light off and close the door.

Eddie's heart drops into his stomach when he sees her face.

His one and only.

His Evil Woman.

She looks tired. The dark circles around her eyes remind him of the time they experimented with zombie makeup. Something is different with her hair. Has she lost weight? He inwardly cringes at his own question, knowing she'd give him a smack for it. But she can't read his mind. She doesn't even acknowledge his presence.

She tiptoes down the hallway and takes a left in the kitchen, pulling out stuff to make a sandwich. Four. Four sandwiches. She assembles four peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, packs them in crinkled brown lunch bags that have seen better days, then folds down the tops. There's one bread heel left. She stares at it for a moment, then wraps it up and puts it back in the bag.

She looks around, as if she can feel someone watching her. Eddie shifts uncomfortably, almost wishing she'd make eye contact and laugh because he fell for whatever sick joke this is. But she looks right through him with her dull eyes. Where's that wicked twinkle he loves so much? Why does she look so sad? What's she looking at? Eddie glances behind him. Is she waiting for someone to come in the door? Looking at the tree, maybe?

Just when Eddie thinks he can't possibly stand that blank stare for one more second, her face crumples. She sinks to the floor, grabbing a kitchen towel on the way down and holding it to her mouth to stifle her sobs. Eddie wishes he could look away and save her this indignity, but he can't. He can't take his eyes off of her.

"What happened to her?" Eddie whispers, afraid she'll hear.

"It's more of a what didn't happen to her," Billy answers somberly. "She never met you."

"Is that all you got?" Eddie scoffs, turning to his companion with annoyance. "She never met me, so she cries sometimes? Get fucked, Hargrove."

"No, asshole," Billy seethes, taking his attention from the crying girl on the floor to the metalhead at his side. "She never met you and became a social pariah, so she actually made friends with the popular kids. Became quite the party animal. Hooked up with some older guy one weekend, who happened to possess some illicit substances that needed to be distributed to the desperate students of Hawkins High. Sound familiar?"

Eddie thinks for a moment, and when he understands, his jaw drops.

"Rick?" Eddie asks. "My girl was selling for Reefer Rick?"

"She's not your girl," Billy growls. "You don't exist, remember? Anyway, she was doin' a lot more than selling for him."

"No fuckin' way," Eddie protests.

"Yes fuckin' way," Billy argues. "They were together for almost a year before she realized he was stickin' his dick in anything that would let him. By that time, it was too late."

"Too late?" Eddie asks hesitantly.

"She'd already had the baby."

Eddie feels the blood drain from his face. Wait, does he even have blood in whatever this freaky little fever dream is?

"While her classmates were dancing to Cyndi Lauper or some shit at prom, she was in the hospital having a baby," Billy continues. "She never got to graduate. Got into a real bad fight with her mom. When her dad found out that his unwed teenage daughter got knocked up by the town drug dealer, he took her mom to court and won full custody of the little brother. After the kid got shipped to his dad, her mom sold the house and went back to live closer to the rest of her family. And then when she found out Rick was fucking around, it was just her and the baby…"

Eddie tenses, sensing an "until".

"Until me."

"You?" Eddie asks with an accusatory tone.

"Me." The corner of Billy's mouth twitches, like he's remembering something nice. "I liked her in school, but she was Rick's… until she wasn't. Then I moved in. Then came the triplets. They're absolute hellions, but she loves 'em," Billy sighs. "And me. Nobody ever loved me like she did. I wish to Hell,"

Thunder booms, and Billy winces.

"I wish to Heaven," he says, looking up at the ceiling apprehensively, "that I hadn't tried to drive that night. It was hard sometimes, but we were happy, y'know? I didn't mean to leave them all alone like this."

Eddie focuses on the longing in Billy's eyes, rather than the broken woman he's staring at.

"She didn't deserve this," Billy whispers. His face hardens, and he turns to Eddie. "She didn't deserve that shit you said to her either, asshole."

Eddie feels almost as bad as he did the second those words left his mouth.

"So you're dead?" Eddie asks, desperate for something else to think about.

"Yes, I'm fucking dead," Billy rolls his eyes. "You don't exist at all in this world, and I got drunk and drove my car into a tree just before Christmas last year. What a fuckin' pair we make, huh?"

Eddie sighs and turns his attention back to the girl who's now staring blankly at the floor, silent tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"Why's she in Wayne's house?" Eddie asks suddenly.

"Thought you'd never ask," Billy says, lighting another cigarette. "Only place she could afford. Guy cut her a real good deal, after what happened to your uncle."

Billy pauses and makes Eddie ask: "What happened to my uncle?"

"He blew his brains out," Billy says matter-of-factly, pointing to the spot where Wayne's chair should be with his cigarette. "Right there."

"Bullshit."

"Why do you think a trailer this old has a new carpet and wallpaper?" Billy asks.

Eddie surveys the place. The kitchen is mostly the same; same sink, same stove, same fridge, even some of the same ancient magnets he used to play with as a kid. But the living room…

"Why?" he breathes.

"Hmmm," Billy hums, pretending to flip through the pages of an imaginary book and pointing to some imaginary answer. "It seems that dear old Uncle Wayne had a little bit of a drinking problem."

"Wayne never drank anything but beer," Eddie argues.

"Well, funny thing," Billy says, taking a drag of his cigarette and blowing his smoke in Eddie's face. "Seems he gave up hard liquor when his punk-ass nephew came to live with him. And since in this universe, he didn't have a nephew… he just kept on drinking. Even though he was already depressed, and the liquor just made it worse… and worse… until one day, he'd had enough."

"No," Eddie breathes.

"Yeah," Billy nods, not looking very sympathetic. "Wanna hear about your little sheepies at school?"

"No."

"Tough shit," Billy scoffs. "Little Drummer Boy, before he got shipped back to Daddy-O's, was in the marching band. Wedgie City, man. The big guy with the curly hair got bullied so bad, his mom decided to home-school him. He's so scared of everything, he hasn't left the house in months. Brace-Face joined the fucking Mathletes, thus ensuring him a lifetime of virginity. And the rest of those little weirdos just try to lay low and survive. Your little club that brought them all together and made them proud to be freaks? Doesn't exist. Never will. Most of 'em don't even know each other."

"Stop," Eddie says weakly.

"You want more?" Billy asks. '''Cause I can keep going. Wanna know about the worst thing your girl's ever done to make rent? Or how she'll never be able to fix the relationship with her mom? That her own brother won't bother to invite her to his wedding, when he finally finds some four-eyed geek who will have him?"

"Stop," Eddie begs.

"Maybe you want to hear about your parents? How they only had you as an attempt to save their marriage, and how they fared with another miscarriage instead? It wasn't pretty, man."

"Stop," Eddie begs.

"Wanna circle back to the uncle? And how all he ever did was work and drink and had no friends and no reason to live? About how the first time he'd smiled in years was the night he loaded that pistol?"

"Stop!" Eddie shouts.

"YOU STOP!" Billy shouts back. "You've got a good life on the other side of this shit, and you're wishing it away like a fucking loser! Oh, boo-hoo, you're not gonna be a rock star. You've got a fucking family and friends and people that love your stupid ass! You know what, I don't think you even deserve to go back. I should tell the man upstairs to make this reality the real one, and as payment for erasing your sorry ass from existence, I should get another shot at this life!"

Billy and Eddie stare at each other for a moment, both breathing hard and wondering who's going to break first. Then, the clock in the living room chimes, and Billy looks at in a panic.

"She needs you, man," Billy says quickly. "She needs you to pull your head out of your ass and think about why she's with you. Holding you back? She's the only reason you made it this far, dipshit. She's the reason you graduated, the reason you're not in jail, probably the reason you're still alive. She could've gone anywhere, done anything she wanted. But she stayed in the shittiest town on the planet, and she was happy about it, because you were there together. Never had a dream? What a crock of shit. You were her dream, asshole."

Eddie feels tears prickling at his eyes.

"Now, you get your stupid ass back to your reality and you tell that girl and those nerds how fucking sorry you are," Billy yells, his voice getting louder and barely overpowering the ringing increasing in Eddie's ears. "And you better fucking mean it!"

Eddie nods. Billy grabs the collar of his jacket and gives it a tug. The light flashes white, and Eddie hides his face in his sleeve.

"HEY!"

Eddie opens his eyes and raises his head, but the light hasn't gone out yet. He lowers his head again and hears a scrape. A shower of gravel hits his side. He looks up in surprise. The light moves.

"What are you doing out here, you little shit?"

Eddie squints and makes out a flashlight pointed to the ground… and a pair of boots… and tan pants…

"Hopper?"

"You hurt?"

"No?"

"Then why aren't you at Mrs. Henderson's Christmas party?"

"Uh…" Eddie racks his brain, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make Hop beat his ass.

"Only a Munson would choose to freeze his balls off alone at the quarry instead of being at a Christmas party with all his friends," the chief sighs. "Get goin', kid. People are worried about you."

"Doubt it," Eddie mutters without thinking.

"Oh yeah?" Hop asks, lighting a cigarette. "Then why am I out here looking for some dumbass when I could be riding out the last of my shift at the station with Flo's fruitcake?"

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. Someone really sent Hop looking for him? After all that?

"I'm off in thirty, and I'm coming by for the cookies Dustin promised me. If you're not in there having a good time with all your dumb little buddies, we're gonna have a problem. Got it?"

"Got it, Hop," Eddie confirms. He can't help but smile.

"Move your ass, then!" Hop orders.

Eddie scrambles away from the edge of the cliff, heading for the van.

Hop follows him down the quarry road, saying goodbye with a honk when they part ways. Eddie smiles when he sees Hopper's lights turn in his rearview mirror, almost missing the chief's company after his crazy night.

He doesn't have to feel alone for long; he can see the glow of the Henderson house from almost a mile away.

Dustin's mom loves Christmas more than anyone else Eddie's ever met. She's hosted a Christmas party for Dustin and his friends every year since they moved to Hawkins, and other moms may try to compete, but they simply can't. Claudia Henderson bakes the best cookies in the world. She decorates the house like she was trained at the North Pole. She has never once run out of hot chocolate or snacks, or let a guest leave empty-handed.

Eddie hopes his friends are having too good a time to stay mad at him.

The turnoff is easy to find. He's never seen so many lights in his life. The mailbox is covered. Every tree in their yard has a string of lights on it. The driveway is lined with lights and filled with cars Eddie knows, including Uncle Wayne's truck and Jeff's car. There's a light-up Santa on the roof. There are plastic reindeer in the yard.

And there's a black shape smoking on an otherwise well-lit carport that looks very familiar.

Eddie eases out of the van and jams his hands in his pockets, approaching the figure cautiously. His Evil Woman meets his eye but doesn't say anything. When he gets close, but not too close, he stops. He stands. He stares. She stares back. He doesn't know where to start. Begging? Groveling? Punching himself in the nuts until she tells him he can stop?

And then she offers him the lit cigarette she'd holding.

The simple gesture floods Eddie with warmth.

Overwhelming warmth.

The kind that makes a person's eyes water.

Eddie rushes forward to wrap his arms around her. He feels her shift, like maybe she's dropped the butt and stamped it out. She hugs him back, and he melts into her.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"I know," she whispers back.

"I didn't mean it."

"I know," she repeats.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"I know," she says again.

"I love you."

"I know."

"You're saying 'I know' a lot," Eddie notices.

"I know."

"We should definitely have tons of sex tonight," he says, holding his breath while waiting for a response. Too soon?

"Dream on, dickweed."

He snorts and pulls back, and she looks up at him with the smallest of smiles. He'll take it. She reaches for his hands, and Eddie takes her freezing fingers in his. How long has she been out here?

"Do you still love me?" he asks, almost afraid of the answer.

She hesitates. Eddie's blood runs cold.

"Do you really think I'm holding you back?" she asks quietly.

"God, no," Eddie sighs, fighting the urge to drop to his knees and hug her around the middle while he grovels. "I don't know where the fuck that came from. You're everything to me. You're probably the only reason I'm still alive."

She considers it. Makes him squirm. Eddie bites his lip, preparing for the worst.

"The night is young, Munson."

She smirks. Eddie lets out a sigh of relief, head swimming at the comfort of a familiar threat. She reaches up to touch his swollen cheek. Did she just wipe away a tear? Fucking traitorous eyes! Eddie wipes angrily at his face, just in case.

"I'm sorry tonight didn't turn out the way you hoped," she says softly.

"It did," Eddie cuts in quickly. He doesn't want to think about that. He doesn't want to think about anything but making things right with the people he wronged. "I'm at the best Christmas party in Hawkins, with all my favorite people. If… if you think they'll let me in?"

He glances uneasily at the front door, decorated by a massive wreath with Santa's jolly face at its center.

"You think those boys, who've been playing D&D with you for years, have never witnessed an Eddie Munson Tantrum?" she teases, with that beautiful, amazing, wicked sparkle in her eyes.

Eddie's face burns with embarrassment.

"Oh!" she remembers suddenly, digging in her jacket pocket. She extracts a folded napkin and opens it to reveal a pile of cookies. Eddie's favorites.

"I snatched the last of the double chocolate chip. Apparently they're Mike's favorites too. I know he's a skinny brat and all, but damn that boy can stuff his face."

Eddie looks from the cookies to the girl, his eyes tearing up again. She did that for him? After he did that?

"C'mere," she orders, shoving the cookies back in her pocket and pulling him in for another hug. Eddie closes his eyes and buries his face in her neck, not ever wanting to imagine a world where they don't have each other.

"I love you," he croaks.

"I love you too," she responds. She squeezes him as tightly as he's squeezing her. He's never, ever letting go.

She seems to read his mind, since her hands soon find their way under his shirt. Eddie jumps out of his skin and lets out an honest-to-God squawk when those icy fingers make contact with his warm back, and she laughs at him. It's the most beautiful thing Eddie's heard all night.

Is she really like this because of him? Fun and happy and everything a person should be?

A car door slams, and both of them turn to the driveway to see Chief Hopper approaching.

"Munson, you got a taillight out."

"Yeah, I know," Eddie sighs.

The trio stands there awkwardly for a few seconds, before Hopper asks, "Wheeler eat all the cookies yet?"

"Just about," she grins. "If we hurry, we might be able to grab a few crumbs before he licks the plate."

Hopper chuckles and walks toward the front door. She takes Eddie's arm, tilts her head to Hopper, and waggles her eyebrows suggestively. Eddie shoots her a fake glare, and she laughs again before leading him inside for the party of the year.

What started out as the worst night of Eddie Munson's life ended up being one of the best. The band had softened under the influence of sugar, and did not murder him when he reappeared. Eddie spent a great evening surrounded by the people who matter most, in a place they all call home, with hundreds of cookies and gallons of cocoa. Eddie had so much fun, he didn't even groan when all the moms started singing Christmas carols at the piano.

Although he did nearly have a heart attack when Billy Hargrove, who'd been dragged to the party by his step-sister Max, tapped him on the shoulder and asked to bum a smoke.

[grinsgrimmy]

hi! i love your content so much :’) can i request a drabble?

Manhwa: How to Get My Husband on My Side (or How to Win My Husband Over)

Character: Iske Van Omerta x Reader

Prompt: Reader giving Iske a handmade bracelet.

Any information: make the bracelet pink :’) and end it with the duchy’s reaction seeing Iske with a pink bracelet on his wrist hehe

thank you so so much for writing! i can’t wait for more of your content! happy writing! 🩶

Ｇ Ｉ Ｆ Ｔ .

ㅤᯓᡣ𐭩 𝖨𝖲𝖪𝖤 𝖵𝖠𝖭 𝖮𝖬𝖤𝖱𝖳𝖠 𝗑 𝖠𝖥𝖠𝖡!𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

HOW TO GET MY HUSBAND ON MY SIDE

๋࣭⭑ֶֶֶָָָ֢֢֢𖹭 drabble . (1036 words)

sum. you made a bracelet for iske. he can't help but like the gift way too much than he should

note : thank you for the request and kind words, anonie! i literally screeched in my dorm when i read your request bc it's so cute. i unfortunately went over word limit again...

drabble request slots have reopened !

ㅤ⪩⪨ m.list

iske would do anything to make you happy.

even if it meant falling for your silly whims that you pulled from god knows where.

he owlishly blinked as your fingers worked around his wrist, attaching something to it with a giddish smile on your lips. whatever it was, he barely protested against it when his eyes fell upon that smile that made his knees weak.

he was in his own world as he stared blankly at your lips. you were so close, so close that he could feel the warmth radiating off of you. it was enough to keep him rooted in place, admiring your facial features as you busy yourself with attaching something to his wrist.

“done!” you announced proudly, stepping back to admire your work. only then did iske glance down at his wrist to see a delicate bracelet.

a pink bracelet.

the bracelet wildly contrasts with his dark, rugged attire. speechless, he was left blinking at the bracelet he deemed incredibly fragile.

one wrong move by him and it would probably break.

“odd choice of colour,” he piped up, his tone a little incredulously, but held no protest against it. you tried to stifle your laughter at his reaction.

he gave a deadpan to you, who was clearly trying not to laugh. iske ignored the mischievous glint in your eyes, “you made it yourself?” he asked, not daring to move the bracelet. you nodded excessively, “mhm! it took me a while to make it.”

you lowered your sleeve to show him a matching pink bracelet on your wrist. “now we're matching!” you teased, your eyes twinkling with glee, “if i look at it, then it'll remind me of you, and when you look at it, it'll remind you of me!”

cute.

iske immediately thought as he stared at your beaming face.

a little red tinged the tip of his ears.

he hummed, “my wife's talent exceeds me once again.” he murmured to himself with affection. a reminder of you— his clever, whimsical wife who brought colour to his otherwise gray world.

you huff proudly, laughing to yourself. you failed to witness the way iske's gaze softened at your words. he moved his wrist around, admiring the simple charm of the bracelet.

a small smile of amusement and fondness graced his lips. "i'll cherish it,” he vowed, his voice low and sincere. he slowly raised his wrist to his lips and kissed the pink bracelet.

you felt your heart skip a beat, flustered as the realisation hit you. his kiss on the bracelet held the same meaning as if he had kissed you directly. you began to stammer, searching for words, which depended on Iske's amusement.

he leaned down to press a gentle kiss onto the top of your head. “thank you, my wife,” he then whispered into your ear softly. the sudden closeness caught you off guard, and you let out a surprise squeak, which earned yet another dry chuckle of amusement from iske.

iske adjusted the sleeve of his fit. he blinked, watching the sleeve obscure the delicate bracelet, hiding it.

feeling an unexpected pang of dissatisfaction at seeing it obscured, iske folded his sleeve, letting the bracelet sit visibly against his skin.

a small smile touched his lips as he admired the bright band that stood out alongside his usual stoic appearance.

the rest of the day went on. the people of the duchy found themselves utterly baffled. iske strode through the halls, displaying the pink bracelet around his wrist with his sleeve folded up to his elbow.

he ignored the whispers that followed him whenever he went. this was their notorious stoic lord, after all— one who rarely showed warmth—

and yet there he was, proudly showcasing the delicate, handmade bracelet in the bright shade of pink.

you were at the knights' training grounds with iske's sister, ellenia.

everyone immediately knew it was given by his wife.

you tried your best to fight the urge to flee out of embarrassment as iske came down the field with the bright bracelet still on his wrist, as if showing it off.

the knights all surrounded iske, they could barely contain their laughter and teasing grins as they all fawned at the sight of him with a bright pink bracelet.

iske's annoyance began to rise. “something wrong with it?” he asked, his voice flat yet holding a clear tone of warning. the knights had grown bold as always.

they all stifled at his clear signs of warning and saluted at him, “nothing wrong at all!” they all chimed simultaneously, hurriedly going back to training.

“wife,” he walked to you and raised his wrist to you. he looked at you expectantly, “take it. i don't want to ruin it when i train.”

iske did not want to take it off himself since he was worried his strength would have broken it.

it was too fragile in his eyes.

iske did not want to destroy a gift made by you.

you reached out immediately, fingers brushing against the soft threads of the bracelet as you slowly slid it off his wrist.

when you slipped the bracelet off and gently placed it in your palm. daringly, you took a deep breath and leaned in to plant a kiss on iske's forehead.

he turned his head towards you and nodded, taking your hand to place a gentle kiss on it before returning to the middle of the field to bark orders at the knights.

you could hear the knights whistle at the sight, which earned a harsh glare from iske— forcing them to be quiet almost immediately.

you could not help but notice ellenia, who was standing beside you— had a slight sulk that you could have missed if you were not that observant.

her stoic demeanor did not quite mask the hint of envy in her eyes as she watched the exchange. you brain immediately clicked at why she was sulking.

with an amused smile on your lips, you chime teasingly, “so what colour does ellen like?” chiming with a teasing grin.

ellenia huffed, looking away with her ears tinged red. “anything from you,” she said curtly with a tiny frown that resembled a pout.

“okay~” you say happily, which made her huff again, this time with satisfaction.

this was home.

and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

・❥・want a hc / oneshot? please consider commissioning in ko-fi !