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cherrycolored-punk · 1 month ago

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WADWSH - Chapter Two: The Date

Masterlist

author's note: surprise, surprise! it's here! This took a lot longer than I anticipated. I’d write and leave it alone until inspiration struck. While this is based on the movie, there’s still so many elements I want to change to hopefully make it true to how Eddie and Steve are. At least in my eyes. I feel pretty proud of this chapter and just hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it. Please comment or reblog if you did, support is always appreciated!

Also, here is the dress I'm describing.

w/c: 11.2k

warnings: just angst really

“You really chose some girl from Hawkins?” Steve rolls his eyes, face etched with vexation as he sips the whiskey Tad poured him.

He sits across from Jenkins, swirling the glass of brown liquor and picking absently at the fluff of the striped sweater he was still wearing from the shoot.

He had no idea his manager would have a hand in picking the finalist, assuming it was a blind drawing, and had to school his face into neutrality during his People Magazine interview when the news was revealed.

Frankly, he didn’t care to know much about the date and was looking forward to the night being over long before it even began.

“Nothing screams all American boy like a Midwest girl,” Tad states matter-of-factly, “and that’s what Hewitz wants for his next film.

“She’s perfect for the rehabilitation of your image. From a small town, works at a video store, an orphan…It is the best case if we’re trying to make you look charitable.”

Something twists inside Steve’s chest as he looks at the older man lounging behind a wide oak desk, attempting to light a cigar.

He shifts uncomfortably in the leather armchair he occupies, unable to discern the emotion that stirs in him hearing how his manager describes you.

And why did he care? He didn’t even know you.

“Yeah,” Harrington shrugs, “I guess you’re right.”

The older man grumbles and looks at him with a hardness set in his steel blue eyes.

“You guess?” He takes a drag of the cigar, coughing as the smoke fills his lungs.

“Steve, I’m going to be frank. If not for me, you couldn’t set foot onto another set.”

“What’s that sup-”

Tad cuts him off, pointing his cigar in Steve’s direction.

“You have burned nearly every damn bridge this town has to offer. With your drinking, partying, being late, going off script, the flings with your co-stars. No one has wanted to hire you, but with my help, we’ve managed to keep the door open—just a crack. We can blow it wide with this charity date and the magazine interviews. Call it Hollywood’s greatest redemption arc, which means more money for you and, most importantly, me.”

“Guess I can’t argue with that logic,” Steve shrugs and sips his drink.

“And you’d be smart not to,” Tad leans forward onto his elbows to look at his client.

“Steve, I’ve been in this business a long time. People don’t care if you are charitable, just that you look charitable. Despite the hoopla around him, Hewitz is no different. We just have to play his game.”

Harrington nods and gulps down the rest of his drink.

“I trust you.”

“You’d be stupid not to,” Jenkins laughs, the sound strangled by the wheeze that ripples through his chest as he tries to clear his throat of phlegm.

“And you’re not stupid, right kid?”

Steve’s face twists as he watches the older man cough and blubber over his words. The words he spoke mirroring what he’d always heard from his father.

Stupid.

Disappointment.

Let-down.

He stands and places his glass on top of Jenkins’ desk.

“Nope, not stupid,” he says simply, “Let me know when and where to pick my date up and pick somewhere nice to eat…maybe somewhere with entertainment so we don’t have to talk.”

He waves his hand flippantly, turning to leaving before Jenkins can reply. Fighting the urge to go to his favorite bar with his favorite Victoria’s Secret model to chase away the negative memories that had resurfaced.

Everything happened so fast.

The interview with the news was followed by a call from Steve’s personal assistant and a follow-up email containing your ticket information, making it all the more real.

You, a mega-fan, had a date with the actor whose poster was still on the walls of your childhood bedroom. The one from his younger acting days on Boy Meets World. It felt unreal, and you could not comprehend how the stars had aligned or how luck was actually on your side for once.

It made you nervous, antsy. Anticipating when the other shoe would drop.

Now you stood in the airport, palms sweaty and stomach in knots. Worried about the flight, the date, and what you would even talk about?

What would you even have in common?

TSA is backed up, and the Indianapolis airport is crowded. Throngs of people are lined up behind the metal detectors, taking turns going through security.

The mass of people makes you more uneasy, and you look at your watch. There’s only an hour left until your flight.

You glance around, your heart thrumming wildly in your chest. You grip the ticket in your hand and finally release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding as you turn to your friends.

Eddie and Beth had insisted on bringing you to the airport.

Well, more so Eddie - he had been adamant about packing your things into Uncle Wayne’s truck and driving the distance to the nearest airport in Indianapolis despite your protests. He was pretty sure your beat-up Honda wouldn’t make it, and who were you to argue with the best mechanic you knew?

“Well,” you begin with an unsteady grin, “I guess I’ll be going.”

You point an absent thumb over your shoulder to the crowd, gaze dancing between your two friends.

Beth squeals excitedly and throws her arms around you, gripping you tightly to the point that you can’t lift your arms to embrace her in return.

“You’re going to tell me everything,” she insists.

“The smell of his shampoo, his cologne, and if you hug him - you better tell me if his chest is as hard as it looks,” she sighs deeply, “promise?”

You roll your eyes affectionately and shake your head, but deep down, you know that if the roles were reversed, you’d also have a list for her. What does his laugh sound like? Is his smile just as dazzling in person, or is it better?

“I promise,” you chuckle.

“Good,” she squeezes you one last time before stepping back and allowing Eddie a moment with you.

He looks at you, a gleam of something you can’t identify lit in his chestnut brown eyes.

“Come here, you,” he grumbles and pulls you into a bear hug. It was signature Eddie; long, strong arms wrapped around your back and holding you close.

Instinctively, your arms clutch around his center, and you bury your nose into his shirt, taking a deep breath. The smell of his body soap lingers and makes your heart stutter in a way that worries you. In a way that reminds you of the crush that had been creeping up steadily since his concert.

“Be careful,” he mumbles as he presses a kiss against your head, and for a moment, you think he can hear your thoughts - a warning against your resurfacing feelings.

Eddie pulls away to look at you but keeps his hands on your shoulders. From the arch of his eyebrows, you understand what he means, and you know that he’s serious.

“It’s a charity date,” you remind him.

“Yeah, with a known Hollywood douche,” he huffs, “who knows what he’s up to, a-and don’t let him touch you with his slimy hands.” He lifts his own in a dramatic wave to emphasize his words.

“Eddie,” you press your lips together, trying to fight the smile that threatens to pull at your lips as you watch him.

“I mean it, Sunshine. He’s going to take one look at you and try something. I just know it.” He’s not even looking at you, his expression darting around the airport as he imagines the scene unfolding.

“Eddie,” you repeat, “It is a charity date,” you enunciate each syllable.

“Nothing is going to happen, and he’s definitely not going to be interested in me. The only thing I’m in danger of is saying something stupid.”

He shrugs his shoulder and nods his head slightly in agreement, his eyes meeting your gaze again with a hint of mischief. Your foot-in-mouth disease was very well known.

You gasp dramatically, and he chuckles, already bracing for the playful slap you would grant him.

“Hate to interrupt you two dweebs, but Sunshine here is going to miss her plane if you keep distracting her,” Beth interjects.

You look at the time on your watch again and back to the line, shit.

“She’s right,” you tell Eddie and give him one last hug.

“I’ll see you both in two days,” you point at them, and they nod, waving you off.

You join the line, already shrugging off your backpack to load it onto the conveyor belt leading to the x-ray machine. Despite how busy it is, the queue moves quickly, and you’re nearly halfway to the entrance when you lose sight of your friends.

They watch the back of your head, hands still waving like you can see them.

“You are so fucking whipped,” Beth whispers between her teeth, her mouth still set in a smile.

“Shut the fuck up, or you’re walking home,” Eddie threatens, his expression mirroring hers.

She slaps his stomach and turns towards the exit, power-walking in case he makes good on his threat to abandon her over seventy miles from home.

The four-hour flight in first class was everything you’d seen in the movies.

Flight attendants served you orange juice in small glasses and brought you breakfast on glass plates. You’d turned around, curious if everyone was getting the same treatment or if it was exclusive to the competition. All the first-class passengers were served the same, although they didn’t share the same look of surprise or excitement that you had.

You relished in its luxury, the experience of your first plane ride and trip out of Indiana. The realization that it was real and you weren’t dreaming slowly creeping in.

Once you land, you collect your bag from the carry-on bin above your head and follow the signs that lead you outside. You aren’t sure how you are meant to get to the hotel, but surely there are cabs here, just like back home. Los Angeles couldn’t be that different.

You freeze as you near the exit doors and pass a line of drivers dressed in suits. Slowly, you take two steps back and look down at the sign one of them held in their hand.

A sign that had your last name.

“That’s me!” You point with a wide grin and look up at the man. He’s tall, with a long beard combed and manicured, its length meeting the top of his black tie.

He repeats your name to confirm, and you nod once again.

“I’m Smith. I’ll be your driver,” he states as he folds the sign in half before pointing his palm toward the exit.

Your mouth falls open at his words, surprised that your prize includes a driver.

“Follow me, ma’am,” he instructs, leading you through the exit.

You follow him happily and nearly bump into him when he stops before a black stretch limo to open the door for you.

“T-this is for me?” You stammer, pressing a hand at your chest as you gaze around in shock, and he nods.

“I can take your bags,” he points to the one clutched in your grasp.

“Oh! Okay, yes. Thank you!”

You slide into the limo as he loads your bags into the trunk, eyes wandering over the interior, mouth still agape. On your right side is a fully stocked bar, and there’s a television playing E! News to your left.

Your mouth hangs open as Smith closes the door and walks to the driver’s side. He slides into his seat, adjusts the seatbelt, and checks the rear-view mirror.

His clear blue gaze settles on you, and you meet it with a wide, uncertain grin.

“So I heard you’re the lucky winner of that one contest,” he waves his hand flippantly before looking over his shoulder to ensure the street is clear enough to pull the limo onto it.

“Oh yeah,” you nod, “that’s me.”

It’s the first time you’ve ever been called lucky.

“Are you excited?”

You move your head back and forth, every muscle tense with nerves.

“Probably more nervous,” you chuckle and reach for one of the bottles of water stocked in the bar.

“Those Hollywood types can be a lot,” he agrees, his gaze trained on the road.

“You meet a few?” You ask and turn towards the window, gazing out onto the streets lined with palm trees.

It is so different from home; the lush green foliage replaced by sparse shrubs and a landscape of glass skyscrapers. The road is filled with cars, nicer than any you had seen in town, and every person you glance at has a cell phone pressed to their ear. A technology that has barely made its way into your small town.

It all felt alien, like you were a visitor from Mars and didn’t belong.

“Just a handful,” he shrugs, “but no one as big as Steve Harrington,” he chortles and glances back at you.

“It’s so intimidating,” your words have an edge of worry, speaking both of your surroundings and your impending date.

“If it’s a bad date, at least you got the experience?” He shrugs, his voice lifting at the end as though it were a question. As though he wasn’t sure if the experience itself would make up for a potentially disappointing evening.

“Yeah,” you whisper, words less than confident as the nerves claw into your throat.

You sink into your seat, the two of you falling into an easy silence.

The streets become more crowded the closer you get to the city, and the traffic becomes denser until the car slows down to crawl. You watch as tourists crowd Hollywood Boulevard, taking pictures along the Walk of Fame with disposable cameras in front of their favorite star's name. It all looks exciting and claustrophobic. More people were on this street alone than those who lived within Hawkin’s city limits.

Smith pulls away and further down the street, parking the limo along a curb outside a row of luxury clothing stores.

Versace. Prada. Marc Jacobs. Chanel.

They’re all here, but one of them stands out.

Dior.

You remember all the nights you and Beth stayed up circling red carpet looks and admiring the pictures that adorned magazines. The designer and the gowns always stood out to you. Their lines and silhouettes were beautiful, flattering everyone who wore them. You’d always longed for one, and now the store was within feet of you.

“Instructions are to let you shop,” Smith states suddenly, his hand gesturing towards the stores. “They are all aware you’ll be coming in; all you have to do is give them your name, and they know whose tab to put it on.”

“All of them?” You nearly choke as the words rush from your mouth and turn to him.

The man reaches into his suit, pulling a folded piece of paper from his pocket. You watch as his eyes skim the page, and he nods.

“All of them,” he confirms, and you turn back toward the stores. Their signs alone intimidate you, keeping you inside the limo and unable to step outside the door.

“I’ll just be waiting here until you’re done,” he encourages, turning his body to look at you.

You grab the water bottle you’d been sipping from and begin chugging its contents. The most you’d ever spent shopping was fifty dollars at Hollister and you’d felt guilty for weeks. Now, you were expected to pick whatever you wanted from clothing stores whose cheapest items were in the thousands. You continue to chug until the bottle is empty, and you crush its empty plastic between your hands.

“Right,” you nod, “I’ll be back.”

Slowly, you pull the door handle with hesitant fingers.

Sunshine pours through the door, and you step out, looking back and forth. The sidewalk is less crowded than the ones down the road, with only a few shoppers passing you as you approach the store.

A nervous hand reaches for the handle, sweaty fingers pulling it open. The cool, manufactured air and the soft smell of jasmine greet you. The low hum of a piano plays on the speakers overhead.

Inside are tall white-tiled walls that compliment the pale wood floors—a neutral color to make the vibrancy of the dresses and accessories pop. Your head slowly turns and takes it in, still gobsmacked that you’re standing inside, about to purchase a dress.

You aren’t sure where to start, and the uncertainty is written on your face as a clerk approaches you.

She looks you over with a small grin spread across her heart-shaped face.

“Can I help you?” Her voice is soft, just above a whisper, and you shift uncomfortably.

“I, uh,” you clear your throat, “I need a dress for tonight, just not sure where to start.”

You look over her shoulder and towards the different showrooms, at all the options you suddenly have.

“You must be the lucky winner,” she surmises with a small nod, and you glance back at her.

“That would be me,” you affirm, gritting your teeth together as you take a deep breath.

“Well, I’d be happy to show you some options. We’ve just received some older pieces that John Galliano did for the house of Dior a few years ago.”

Your eyes widen at her words, and she can’t help but chuckle at your animated enthusiasm.

“I’ll show you those first,” she tilts her head to the right and leads you further into the showroom. Your head whips around at every piece you see - the silk, the chiffon, the beautiful cuts, and the way the dresses flow even on the mannequin.

If you were honest, you’d be happy walking out of here with just a Dior paper bag to wear.

The clerk stops in front of a few mannequins displayed next to another small rack filled with dresses. Immediately, your gaze drifts to a red dress sitting in the center. She follows your gaze with an appreciative nod of her head.

“I see you have good taste,” she grins and moves towards the dress, “This is from the late nineties, created by John Galliano. It’s supposed to marry old Hollywood glam with the minimalist lines of the time.”

You approach the dress, reaching an uncertain hand toward the fabric.

“Go ahead,” she insists and holds a piece of the dress out for you, “it’s crafted from a red silk satin.”

Your hand runs along the fabric, and you appreciate how soft it feels beneath your fingertips.

The dress is stunning, the bias cut allowing it to drape effortlessly over the mannequin and flaring at the hips. The neckline has a deep plunge in the front and the back, a row of buttons running down its side, adding a sense of antiquity.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper and glance back at her.

“Would you like to try it on?” She questions, and you begin to shake your head.

“I couldn’t,” you start, but she nods.

“You can, and you should,” she insists, “I’ll show you to a dressing parlor.”

You don’t argue and follow her into a private room.

Inside sits a small gray loveseat with a floor-to-ceiling mirror behind it. In front of it is a glass coffee table with a small pile of previous catalogs stacked atop and a bouquet of fresh, soft pink roses next to them.

Across the room is a set of drapes dividing the changing room from the rest of the space.

“I’ll bring you the dress,” you turn to her, “and a few other options to try on if you’d like to wait behind the curtain and change out of your clothes.”

“Thank you,” you nod and follow the direction of her finger pointed towards the white curtains.

You close the curtain behind you and begin changing, folding your clothes, and placing them onto a nearby armchair. Moments pass as you look into the mirror, feeling more and more uncertain as the minutes tick by until she knocks at the door to announce her presence.

“Here we go,” you listen as she places a few options onto the nearby rack, “and I have the red dress you were eying.”

She slowly pushes open the curtain and steps through, her back to you as she places it on a hook near the mirror.

“I’ll wait just outside the parlor if you need anything.”

You watch her retreating frame as she closes the curtain behind her, listening for when the door slides shut.

The dress stares back at you, its vibrant hue a stark contrast against the white walls, and you carefully approach it as though one wrong move could make it fall apart.

Methodically, you remove the dress from the hanger and hold it in front of you as you stand in front of the mirror. The color compliments your skin, bringing a new warmth to its tone. You slide it over your head, allowing it to fall over your hips and down your thighs—a perfect fit.

Your reflection nearly takes your breath away, and you can’t help the wide smile that spreads across your face as you take in your appearance.

It was the dress you’d dreamed up on those late nights spent with Beth when you fed into each other's imaginations of red carpets and awards shows.

You didn’t need to try on another one to know.

The clerk knocks on the door, and you step out into the parlor to open it for her, needing someone else’s opinion.

Her green eyes widen when she sees you, gaze dancing over your form and how the dress fits.

“It’s perfect!” She beams, “You have to get it, and I know the perfect pair of shoes to match.”

You resist the urge to clap your hands together in excitement but nod enthusiastically, closing the curtain behind you to change back into your regular clothes.

She leads you around the store, pulling the shoes she mentioned and various accessories, making sure you have everything you need for the perfect night. It feels like a dream, a nineties makeover montage sans a dramatic reveal.

You leave the shop with a bundle of bags and a freshly steamed dress tucked inside a garment bag, excited for the night ahead.

Family Video is quiet, and Mrs. Floyd wanders the Western aisle looking for her usual fix as Beth scans in a pile of returns. Eddie sits at the front, stationed at another computer to check customers out as they sporadically lull into the rental shop.

There’s a stark contrast in how the day feels, how the store feels quieter and bleak without you around.

Or maybe it’s just Eddie who feels your absence so heavily.

Mrs. Floyd approaches, the acrid smell of mothballs clinging to her and filling the air. Eddie does his best to breathe through his mouth as she slides her selection towards him.

“The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly, huh?” He tries to make light conversation, but she only gives him a slight nod, her mouth set in a straight line.

Eddie makes quick work of checking the video out, plopping it into a plastic bag before handing it back to her.

“Have a great day, Mrs. Floyd,” he says with forced enthusiasm, watching her walk through the double doors before turning to Beth.

He scratches his chin, debating whether to ask the question that’d been plaguing him since you’d left.

Beth can feel his eyes on her and she continues to scan the tapes, her back turned to him like a stone wall. She feels a hint of amusement at his nerves, letting him stew until she’s bored of it.

“Spit it out, Munson,” she prompts, voice disinterested.

He rolls his eyes, swiveling his chair towards the computer and pulling up his email. Needing something to fidget with as the words force themselves out.

“What do you think they’ll talk about?”

He scrolls aimlessly and clicks a random email that catches his eye—not really paying attention to what he reads as he waits for Beth to respond.

She smiles at his question, a devilish grin that paints her features, and turns to him with mischief in her eyes.

“Who?” She fakes confusion, and Eddie grumbles.

“You know who,” he tells her, rereading the same sentence. His mind now split in two as he realizes what the email is about.

Beth approaches him, settling beside him and sitting on the counter. She swings her legs as she speaks, her voice singsong.

“I don’t think there’ll be much talking. Maybe kissing, groping. God, she’ll probably be wrapped in his huge biceps pressed against his-“

“Holy shit,” Eddie interrupts her, standing as the contents of the message finally hit him. His fingers press into his curls as he scratches his head, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

“C’mon, Eds, it’s not that surprising,” she chuckles, enjoying his display.

“Not that,” he waves dismissively at her and points to the screen, “that.”

She follows the direction of his finger and hops off the counter to read.

“No fucking way,” she breathes and turns to Eddie with excitement.

Beth grabs his arm, jumping for joy as though her legs have a mind of their own.

For a moment, they forget their rivalry as excitement bubbles around them. Eddie holds onto her, jumping along with her as adrenaline pulses through his veins.

“You have to do it,” she tells him, and he nods. He knew his answer before finishing the email, already knows that the other guys will be interested—more than interested. Eclipse Records was the best in heavy metal.

The two of them stop jumping, eyes trained on the flickering display of the ancient computer. Its white screen staring back at them.

All at once the realization hits him, truly hits him. He has a shot, Corroded Coffin has a shot, and the only person he wants to tell is you.

The limo sits outside the Waldorf Hotel, the engine idling as Steve debates whether to go inside or abandon the plan entirely. It’s five minutes past six, and he’s already late.

Would it matter if he didn’t show up at all?

He plays with a zippo lighter, flipping the metal repeatedly between his fingers as he stares at the building.

Too many things were already set in motion, and you were already here. The ramifications of standing you up weighed on him heavier than the dread he felt going on a date.

“Fuck,” he grumbles to himself, knocking on the window to let his driver know to open the door.

Steve steps onto the sidewalk, buttoning his suit closed and straightening his sleeves before walking towards the entrance. Two bodyguards trail behind him.

He ignores the people who watch him as he makes his way to the penthouse elevator. Eyes trail his every move, and voices drop lower in a whisper, but not a word is spoken directly to him.

Harrington taps his foot impatiently as the elevator climbs gradually to the top floor. Impatience grows within him, and he has to remind himself that it’s only dinner. One stupid meal, and he could dump you back off at the hotel, never to see you again.

The elevator dings, announcing his arrival, and he enters your room. It’s more of a small apartment than a hotel suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows cover the entire wall of the living room, a glimmer of the Hollywood sign in the distance. A long, white sofa faces a large plasma TV playing one of his movies. He can’t help but scoff, roll his eyes, and shake his head.

Of course, you were a mega-fan.

The sound of your heels pulls him from his thoughts, and he looks in your direction—his heart stutters when he sees you.

Steve’s hazel eyes trace over your frame, admiring how the dress you wear hugs your body and drapes over the flare of your hips. You aren’t what he’d expected.

At first, you don’t notice him. Smoothing your hands over your dress and fixing your cleavage.

Nervous and distracted.

“You must be my date,” he greets, startling you.

“Jesus tits,” you all but scream, hand pressing into your chest when you see him. Mind scrambling when you realize who is in your hotel room.

“Oh my Steve, you must be God,” you chuckle nervously as you enter the living room.

His face twists at your mix-up, amusement coloring his features.

“I mean,” you shake your head, “You’re Steve Harrington.”

“Were you expecting a different Steve?” He teases.

Your grin grows wider as heat creeps into your cheeks, and shake your head in response. Words fail you as the nerves settle into your throat and constrict your breathing.

“You are in for a treat tonight,” Steve starts as he leads you back to the elevator, “I got us seats at Nobu. You like sushi, right?”

You didn’t, but you nod anyway.

He’d already planned it. What could you say?

“Great! They have the best sushi in town.”

Both of you file into the elevator, the small space filling with the intoxicating scent of his cologne. Bergamot and amber.

Your thoughts catch up with you, the realization that you’re standing next to Steve finally hitting you.

He’s more handsome in person than on screen, his features matured from when you last saw him in middle school. More freckles line his nose and dot his neck disappearing into the color of his button-down shirt. He’s taller, and leaner, too—the soft swell of his muscles noticeable underneath his black dinner jacket.

The elevator dings, metal doors opening to a half dozen photographers crowding around the lift.

You cringe under the bright lights of their flashing bulbs, a hand reflexively coming out in front of you to guard your eyes.

Harrington’s bodyguards place themselves in front and on either side of you, creating a path through the reporters and to the car.

His driver opens the door allowing both of you to slide inside quickly, bulbs still flashing, trying to catch a glimpse of the actor.

“Is it always like that?” you question, eyes still trained on the men pressed against the vehicle—blotches of flashing bulbs staining your vision.

He follows your gaze and shakes his head.

“Sometimes it’s worse. Can’t even go grocery shopping if I wanted to,” and you can hear the resentment in his tone.

You couldn’t imagine it being worse or being hounded by a group of photographers hoping to catch you at your lowest moments, something that would make headlines or be talked about nonstop on gossip blogs.

“That must be awful,” you grimace, and he meets your gaze.

“Yeah,” he shakes his head, “you have no idea.”

Steve relaxes into his seat, eyes still trained on you curiously.

“So, you’re from Hawkins, too?”

Your smile grows slightly, and you nod.

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, “I’m sure you don’t remember, but we actually went to middle school together.”

“Really?” He asks, eyes dancing across your face. You know he’s trying to place you, trying to remember where he’s seen you before.

“We had sixth-period English together,” you chuckle, “remember Mrs. Floyd?”

He snaps his fingers and points at you.

“That’s right! Mrs. Floyd,” he laughs, “Man, was she weird.”

“The weirdest,” you giggle.

“And she always smelled like moth balls,” he grimaces as if the smell lingered in the car.

“Still does.”

“No kidding,” he shakes his head in amusement.

“Yeah,” you press your lips together to fight the grin threatening to spread across your face and roll your eyes absently, “she comes into the video store at least twice a week to rent anything starring Clint Eastwood. The smell lingers for a bit after.”

He barks out a laugh at the mental image you conjure. Head tilting to the ceiling before he looks back at you. Your eyes drop from the intensity of his gaze but you can feel them searching your face, trailing down your body and back up again.

“Why don’t I remember you?”

You shift in the seat, body turning a fraction to face him.

“I don’t think I was on your radar, King Steve,” you chuckle, a quiet noise that barely fills the space.

“Oh God, I forgot they used to call me that,” he cringes.

“You used to rule the school,” you say teasingly, and he shakes his head.

“I did not,” he laughs, “I could dribble a ball and had a pool. The standards were low.”

The car stops and idles before you have a chance to respond, the outline of a restaurant seen through the heavy tint of the windows.

“Guess we’re here,” he gestures towards the gray brick building highlighted by the spotlights nestled between perfectly manicured shrubs.

His driver opens the door, and Steve slides out first, reaching a hand back in to guide you out. You stare at the opening, a worry growing as you notice the flashing bulbs and gathering people.

But Steve isn’t phased. He smiles at you with an outstretched hand, encouraging you to join him.

You slide across the seat, press your palm to his, and slide out of the car. His gaze locks with yours, and he leans close as you walk towards the entrance.

“Pretend they’re not even here. That’s what I try to do,” he whispers so only you can hear.

He keeps his hand pressed against yours as he walks you through the front doors of Nobu.

Paper lanterns hang haphazardly from the ceiling throughout the restaurant, creating a warm glow in the otherwise dimly lit space. The walls are sheets of dark chestnut, matching the planks outside, sitting vertically along the gray brick. Round tables are scattered about, filled with other restaurant goers.

Without prompting, a hostess leads the two of you through the eatery and to the back. Presumably to a private room. A few heads turn in your direction, various eyes going wide in recognition as you pass when they notice Steve but hardly pay you any mind, and for once, you’re glad to be invisible.

The hostess slides open a set of wooden doors to reveal a private table adorned with lit candles surrounding a centerpiece of red peonies. Behind the table are two chefs ready to prepare what you order, and the guilt stirs in your gut at the sight of them.

Steve pulls out a chair for you, gesturing for you to sit, and you oblige with a small grin. He scoots you in before situating himself on the other side.

“So, what’s your favorite roll?” He asks as he opens the menu, making light conversation as you decide what to eat.

“Um,” you open the menu and quickly scan it for a name, “Rainbow roll?”

“You like the raw stuff?” He asks, eyes still glued to his menu, and you gulp. Fuck.

“I was thinking of the rainbow roll back home,” you say flippantly and hope he buys it.

Steve can’t help but grin as he places the menu back down. He looks up and notices the concerned line forming between your brows.

“Where you getting sushi in Hawkins, by the way? They finally get something out there besides that rink-a-dink Arby's or Benny’s?”

You close your eyes and shake your head, knowing you’ve been caught, and place the menu back down.

“I’ve never had sushi a day in my life,” you admit nervously.

He nods with a knowing grin.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“And ruin the night?” You shake your head and rest your elbows on the table, leaning closer to him with a small smirk.

“Tell you a secret?” He asks, and you nod right away, intrigued at what secrets he could have.

He leans on the table, mirroring your posture, a tiny gleam of mischief in his eye.

“I don’t really care for sushi either. Not unless it’s got something cooked in it,” he chortles, “‘m not a huge fan of raw fish.”

“Then why’d you choose this place?” you whisper as you side-eye the chefs in the room only feet from your table.

“I didn’t,” he shakes his head, “my manager did. Something about fine dining for the winner,” he shrugs. His smile permanent, creating laugh lines around his eyes.

“I would’ve settled for a burger or pizza,” you tell him earnestly, your expression matching his.

The air feels loaded with an electricity that buzzes around the two of you, the rest of the world fading away as you share simple secrets over a bouquet of flowers—the scent of vanilla wafting from the burning candles adding another layer of sweetness to the moment.

“I haven’t had a burger in,” Steve’s head tilts to the ceiling as he thinks, “at least five years. Trainer won’t let me.”

He looks back at you, the glow of the candle highlighting the flecks of gold in his gaze.

“Well, I can keep a secret,” you encourage, and the mischief in his look intensifies.

“Make a run for it?” He questions.

“I won’t make it very far in these heels,” you laugh as the two of you conspire.

“Just got to make it to the limo, sweetheart,” he grins and stands, his hand reaching for yours.

“But we haven’t even eaten,” you look back to the chefs feeling bad.

“They’re getting paid whether they feed us or not,” he promises, “come on.”

Your fingers lace through his without a second thought.

He leads you back through the restaurant and out the doors, the limo still parked near the curb. Paparazzi caught off guard and not prepared for the abrupt re-emergence of Harrington.

He hurries you into the limo, sliding in right after you—thigh to thigh on the small leather seat.

“Step on it, Carson,” he motions with his fingers, eyeing the photographers as they begin to approach the car.

The driver is shocked but doesn’t question Steve’s sudden appearance, quickly putting the car into drive and leaving the restaurant.

Your laughs fill the back of the limo, each of you watching the photographers grow smaller the further you get.

It isn’t a quick getaway; the notorious L.A. traffic congests the streets, making it hard to maneuver at a rapid pace.

You settle back against the seat, and Steve reaches for the bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice at the bar.

“Want a glass?” He turns to you with a raised brow, and you nod.

He pops the cork and serves each of you, placing the champagne back in the bucket before resting against the seat. The two of you fall into an easy silence as Carson drives, seemingly aimlessly, through the streets of the city.

“Have you seen much outside of your hotel?” Steve questions suddenly around the rim of his glass, and you shake your head as you swallow down the bubbles.

“No, went straight from the airport to shop and then to the hotel.”

“Not interested in Hollywood Boulevard or the Hollywood sign?” He lists the stereotypical tourist spots with a roll of his eyes, but you grin and nod.

“Of course, but I’ve been dying to see the ocean. I’ve never been.”

“Really?”

“This is my first time out of Hawkins, actually,” you shrug your shoulder and take another sip of your drink. Leaving out the part that this was your first time out of Hawkins since your parents died.

“We’ve gotta fix that,” he moves further into the limo and taps on the glass divider that separates the space from the driver until the man rolls the partition down.

Steve leans in and whispers low enough so that you can’t hear despite your attempts to. He grins happily at you as he moves back from the partition and sits beside you.

“Just going to take a quick detour,” he tells you, and you raise a curious brow at him.

“Where?”

“That’s a secret,” he muses.

“I said I was good at keeping secrets,” you protest weakly, the champagne you sip going to your head and making you feel weightless. Giggly.

“Well, it won’t be a surprise if I tell you, will it?”

He smiles at you, a grin that makes your heart thrum wildly and causes butterflies to erupt from their cocoons in your chest—taking flight throughout your torso.

You can’t speak, shaking your head no in response with a small laugh. Unable to fight it from escaping your lips.

His hazel gaze is trained on you as the car winds through the roads and toward the coast.

“You’re cute,” he chuckles, bemused.

Heat floods your cheeks as you meet his gaze.

Did he just say that?

And when did you stop breathing?

You shake your head.

“Not even,” you say, and it isn’t self-deprecating. You just fail to believe that he sees you that way. That Steve Harrington thinks you’re cute.

He reaches a hand towards you, and suddenly Carson slams on his brakes sending Steve flying forward into you.

“Sorry, Boss,” the older man apologizes, but neither of you is paying attention.

Steve’s hand cups your face, an affectionate thumb rubbing against the apple of your cheek as his gaze dances between yours.

The moment feels like one you’ve seen before on the big screen. When the two leads finally kiss, the tension between them palpable.

Instead, Steve swallows hard and shakes his head, pushing off you and helping you sit up.

He clears his throat and looks toward the driver's seat at Carson.

“Are we almost there?” He questions and gulps down the rest of his drink.

“Pulling up now, Boss.”

Steve faces you again, reaching for your glass and setting it next to his on the bar.

“You’ll love this,” he muses, hand already on the handle as the car comes to a stop.

He doesn’t wait for Carson to open it, helping himself out before turning back to you with an open palm just like before.

You slide out of the car, greeted by the salty humid air. In the distance, you hear a soft roar, one you strain to hear.

“What is that?” You glance over at Steve.

“That,” he guides you further, “is the ocean.”

Excitement pulses through you, feet itching to run until land meets the sea. To feel the tide on your toes as it washes onto shore.

Steve can feel your elation, the happiness practically vibrating through your fingers and to his palm pressed against yours.

“Thinkin’ of making a run for it?” He questions, and you nod without a second thought, already reaching for the straps of your shoes.

“Going to join me, Harrington?” you ask, leaving your heels near your feet and lifting your dress slightly as you prepare to run.

“Are you trying to race me?” He loosens his tie and kicks off his dress shoes — leaving them beside yours.

“Are you ready to lose?” you counter, already running, trying to get a head start.

“Hey, cheater!” He calls after you, long legs picking up pace as the two of you run through the sand. It slows your steps, but you don’t stop, determined to make it to shore.

The ocean is in your sights, the sun long set, and the indigo sky glittered with stars. The moon hangs high, bright and illuminating the beach in a white glow. It’s mostly empty except for a few strangers far off in the distance.

You slow as you approach the water, wanting to take in the moment. To really feel the beach beneath your feet, how they sink as the sand becomes soft and wet from the water. The sound of the waves lapping on the shore grows louder.

Steve meets you where you stand, watching as you walk towards the ebbing waves and squeal when the cool water meets your ankles.

“Everything you imagined it to be?” He asks, voice low.

You’re already nodding, fingers grasping your dress as you look towards the vast ocean before turning to him.

“Better,” you insist, your words just above a whisper. Barely audible above the crash of the waves.

Steve chuckles, your excitement infectious. Reveling in the joy you exude.

The two of you stand there for a moment, your eyes on the ocean and his eyes on you. Each enjoying the view.

He moves closer until your shoulders touch, and you look up at him.

“This is perfect,” you beam.

“What do you think about a beach picnic?” He proposes, his thumb jutted over his shoulder and pointed towards a burger shack a few yards away.

“Beach picnic,” you dip your chin to your chest in agreement.

The two of you walk toward the stand nestled right on the edge of the beach. It’s a small, white wooden rectangular building just big enough for its equipment and supplies. Lights are strung around the canopy that hangs overhead, creating a warm orange glow.

There’s a small line, a middle-aged woman taking orders as a younger man flips burgers, and your stomach grumbles as the aroma of the chargrilled meat fills the air.

The others don’t seem to recognize Steve as they place their orders and wait near the other window for their number to be called.

“What looks good?” He whispers in your ear, noticing your eyes glued to the handwritten menu tacked above the order window.

“Everything,” you tell him, stomach growling again from the hours without sustenance.

“What can I get you?” The small woman asks before he can respond, pen already pressed to the order ticket.

You quickly eye the menu, glancing back and forth as you order.

“May I have a cheeseburger with no onions, fries, and a strawberry shake?” You ask her.

She nods, soft brown eyes glancing over your shoulder at Steve.

“And for you?”

“I’ll actually have the same, but can you add bacon to mine?”

It’s then that she looks at him with a tilt of her head, the question written on her face before she says the words aloud.

“Aren’t you Lieutenant Holden?” She points the pen in his direction, calling him by the name of one of his characters, and he chuckles, nodding his head.

“From Operation Petticoat,” he confirms.

“My mom and I love that movie,” she beams, and you can see the blush creeping into his cheeks as she goes on to praise his acting.

“Thank you, thank you,” he nods, “I really appreciate it, and I’m glad you like it. It was one of my favorites to make,” he tells her, and you stand to the side, enjoying their interaction. Watching as he signs a spare napkin for her, telling her secrets from the set and about the months he spent in Hawaii filming.

“Oh! How much do I owe you?” He asks, already reaching for his wallet, and she waves him off.

“No, no. It’s on the house.”

Steve shakes his head and pulls his wallet from his coat pocket, sliding a large bill out from the fold.

“Then you’ll accept a tip,” he reaches for her hand and presses the money to her palm.

“I couldn’t,” she begins.

“I insist,” he interjects, voice smooth and sweet like honey.

Her eyes dazzle with appreciation, and she finally nods.

“Thank you, we’ll have your order right out.”

“I appreciate you,” he glances down at her name tag and back at her, “Grace.”

The two of you move to the side near the pick-up window, and you can’t help but glance at him with a hint of affection.

“That was really nice,” you all but swoon.

“Yeah, she’s a sweet lady,” he agrees, not realizing you’re talking about him too.

“Is this a happy coincidence, or have you been here before?” You question, raising your hand towards the beach and back to the burger stand.

“This used to be my favorite spot. When I first moved to L.A., I’d come here every week. Made my parents bring me until I got my license. Being in a big city after living in Hawkins,” he pauses and shakes his head as he remembers, “it was a lot. It isn’t nearly as quiet as Lover’s Lake, but it was enough.”

You bob your head, looking past him and to the beach again.

“Do you miss it at all? Hawkins I mean.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, “sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” you simper, “can’t imagine many people leaving Hawkins and ever wanting to go back. Not when there’s this.”

“This is nice, but it’s never felt like home, not like Hawkins did.”

“Well,” you shift your weight on the heels of your feet, “It’s not going anywhere. You can always pay a visit if you need to hit pause.”

Steve’s mouth opens to respond, just as your order number is called. He turns to the window and back to you before taking the short steps to grab the food from Grace.

“Come back whenever you want, Lieutenant Holden,” she grins and waves the two of you off.

You both leisurely walk through the sand until you reach a spot near the shore but far enough that the waves won’t meet you.

A comfortable silence drifts over you as you eat.

In the silence, your mind whirs with endless thoughts. You have so many questions, but there’s the fear that you’ll sound like a reporter trying to get the latest scoop. The thought restricts the words from tumbling out of your mouth.

The two of you sit and eat, not saying much except superficial niceties and commenting on how good the burgers are. Steve catches the way you keep it short, simple, polite, and it makes him grin. He can see the wheels turning in your head, the internal battle evident in the way your knee bounces as you take bites of your burger and glance around the length of the beach every so often.

“You know, you can ask me questions,” he teases, and you stop mid-chew, eyes wide as though you’d been caught.

“It’s not going to bother you?”

“Not a bit,” he promises.

You hold your burger in one hand and tap your chin with the other, pretending you have to debate what you want to ask him. As though you didn’t have a list of curiosities created long ago.

“Ok. Did you ever want to do anything besides acting?” You question, absently licking off the ketchup that dribbled onto your finger.

Steve swallows his bite and shrugs.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”

He stops and thinks momentarily, and you watch him with amusement. The reality of your circumstances strikes you over and over again. Sitting on a beach with Steve Harrington, less of an enigma under the pale moonlight, his white button-down untucked and bow tie undone. Looking like the boy you knew many moons ago.

“I guess, if my dad had his way, I’d be some rising exec at his financial firm, but I’ve never really been book smart.”

You dismiss his self-deprecation with a shake of your head.

“Did it even interest you?”

He scoffs and takes a bite of his burger, quickly chewing to answer you.

“Not at all, it’s schmoozing and kissing ass. And I mean, I guess Hollywood can be like that too, but at least it’s something I want to do.”

You nod in agreement, knowing how easy it is to overlook the shitty aspects of a job when you enjoy it otherwise.

“What about you? Your parents ever pressure you to do something?”

“Uh,” you begin and laugh awkwardly around your burger, grimacing as you debate how to tell him the truth—hoping you don’t damper the mood.

“My parents died when I was eight,” you say plainly, “the last thing they pressured me about was finishing my multiplication tables.”

You chuckle, a little uncomfortable, and Steve slams his eyes shut. The memory of Tad telling him you were an orphan hitting him suddenly.

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you shrug, “you didn’t know. I grew up with my Nan, and she never really pressured me about anything. Just soft reminders. Marry for love, live happy and true - whatever that means to me.”

“Smart woman,” he muses.

“She was,” you quickly agree, and he catches the past tense but doesn’t prod.

“So what does it mean to you?”

“My dreams are a little pedestrian,” you chuckle and place your half-eaten burger on the paper bag it came in.

“No such thing,” he encourages, admiring your profile. The slope of your nose, the apples of your cheeks, and how your lips spread when you smile. How your skin looks under the white glow of the moon.

You wipe your hands together and use them as you speak. More animated now.

“Well, I want a farm. Y’know, the land and all the animals. A ranch-style house on top of the hill. I always pictured a strawberry farm where people can come pick until their buckets are full and pay by the pound. Maybe even a tulip field. I just want something that’s mine.”

Steve hums in satisfaction at the image you conjure. He can practically smell the field of flowers, the sweet scent of strawberries mingling with the fragrance of the maple trees and the distant wheat fields. Memories of a past life in Hawkins coming to the forefront.

“Sounds perfect,”

“My own little slice of heaven or something like it,” you grin, intentionally drawing your accent out, and he chuckles.

“So what comes after acting, Mr. Hollywood?”

Steve rolls his eyes at the nickname, but the crooked grin on his lips says he doesn’t hate it. At least not when you say it.

“Honestly, I’ve never given much thought about settling down,” he reveals, “I’m always looking several months, years, ahead. What project will I do next, what brand will I collaborate with, what party will I go to…it’s nonstop.”

You nod, thinking of his life. Just what you see from the press, anyway. How he always has to be on for someone. A never-ending performance.

“Sounds…exhausting.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, and you glance at him, noticing how his shoulders have sagged as he looks towards the ocean.

“Have you ever thought about a…break?”

“God, what would that even look like?” He laughs, “I’ve been working since I was a kid. I don’t think I’d know what to do if I did take time off…When I could.”

“You have a big audition coming up or something?” You question curiously, taking a swig of your strawberry shake and looking at him over the tops of your lashes.

“Actually,” he begins, and you can tell it’s something he’s excited about, “I’m auditioning for Henry Hewitz’s latest film.”

“Hewitz?” You repeat, recognizing the name.

He’s a big-time director known for his artistic choices and his storytelling. His movies were always massive blockbusters.

But Steve takes your questioning as a glimmer of doubt.

“I know it’s far-fetched, like, what am I going to add to a Hewitz film? I’m just tired of being type-cast. I want to be taken seriously, to be in something I’m proud of.”

He looks away and out toward the waves. You watch the tension in his jaw and the stern line of his brow.

Maybe you’re crossing the line. Maybe this is too personal for the first night on some fake date, but you ask anyway.

“Are you not proud of what you’ve been in?”

Steve shifts and rubs his thumb against his chin, shaking his head.

“Can’t say that I am,” he huffs a laugh.

It takes you by surprise, his answer and the honesty of it.

“Can I ask why not?” Your brows push together, and you hug your knees, pulling them closer as you wait for his response.

“Well, definitely not going to win any awards being in one,” he shrugs, “and I just want someone to take me seriously. For something I make to mean something.”

“They already do,” you insist, voice just above a whisper. “Dramas, big epics, are great, but there’s a simple joy that comes from escaping in one of your movies-“

Steve begins to shake his head in disagreement, but you continue.

“Before you say it, I’m not just telling you that, and it’s not just the ones you’ve starred in. I know some people might think rom-coms are naive or not real cinema, but they’re idiots. Not everything has to be serious. It can just be sweet, safe…like a little alternate reality.

“I mean, some of us have already lived the heartbreak and just need an escape,” you grin at him, “so, of course, pursue what would make you happy. What you’re proud of, but…fuck anyone who says you haven’t already made something meaningful.”

Steve looks away from the ocean and back at you, an indiscernible emotion painting his features. You hold his gaze, your hand reaching out and squeezing his arm like a small hug.

“I don’t think anyone has ever told me that,” he reveals.

Your tongue clicks against your teeth.

“Sounds like you need better friends.”

He laughs at that, shaking his head.

“I would need to have friends in the first place to need better ones,” he jokes, but the words sink your stomach.

The more he reveals, the less glamorous celebrity seems. By his account, being a famous actor was…lonely.

“Well, I can be your friend. Even if just for tonight,” you offer.

“Just tonight?” He raises a brow at you, a small grin spreading on his plush lips at your proposal.

“Well, I’d say longer, but you’re a busy man, and I’m just a girl from a nowhere town. Not sure how we’d keep up with each other,” you laugh.

He nods and looks down at his feet in the sand.

“For tonight then,” he states, “it’ll be nice to have a friend.”

The two of you sit for a moment in shared silence, listening to the way the waves crash against the shore and the distant sounds of the city. The night has grown colder, the humid air nearly frigid and felt through your dress. Steve notices the way you shiver.

“Here,” he says, already removing his dinner jacket and draping it over your shoulders before you can protest.

His fingers linger on your shoulders, body leaning closer to you. Face inches from yours.

The material is warm from his body heat, the smell of his cologne stronger against the collar and you melt into it.

“Thank you,” you grin and face him, resting our chin on your shoulder.

Your eyes dance between the plush of his lips and the intensity of his gaze. Breath caught in your throat.

“You know,” he begins, voice gruff, “I can’t even remember the last night I had like this.”

“Burgers on the beach with a stranger?” you joke.

Steve’s smile is wide, genuine as he shakes his head.

“Just someone getting to know me. Most people, even in the business, like the idea of me or think they already know me. Either because of what the press says or the characters I play. When fans see me on the street, they want an autograph or a picture. Then they’re gone. To them, I’m Steve Harrington, movie star…I can’t remember the last time someone was genuinely interested in just talking to me.”

He pushes his hair back with one hand, the other still resting on your shoulder. Now that you’re this close, you can see the lighter freckles that dot his nose or the ones just under his eyes. Handsome in a traditional way, the kind of good-looking that landed him in magazines and on movie screens. The kind of pretty that made you a little speechless, unable to form an eloquent response.

You try to shake your reverie, gaze dropping to your lap and swallowing hard before looking back up at him.

“Well, that’s a shame, just Steve,” you nudge his shoulder with your own, trying to make light of how his proximity makes you feel, “you’re definitely more than just a pretty face and a high-profile career.”

Your words are teasing, but he likes the sound of them, the sound of being just Steve. No titles, no reputation, just him.

He leans closer, a hand reaching up to cup your chin. His thumb trailing across your cheek.

“You think so?” He asks, eyes trained on your lips, and you nod.

Steve closes the space between you, warm breath fanning your face—nose tracing against yours. Your eyes flutter closed, heart stuttering and slowing as the rest of the world ceases to exist.

The first press of his lips makes you gasp, your hand reaching out and clutching his shoulder for stability, but you don’t pull away. Your mouth following his lead. Soft and sweet, making you a little dizzy.

His tongue traces your bottom lip, and your mouth falls open, your tongue sliding over his. You pull him closer, fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck. The intensity of the kiss rapidly increasing until it’s hungry and needy.

Steve swallows the soft moan that escapes from between your lips, one hand moving to your hip and pulling you closer until you’re practically in his lap. Fingertips digging into your soft flesh, their heat felt through the fabric of your dress.

You ignore the ache in your lungs, holding him close as you get lost in his taste. The heat of the kiss and how it makes you needy for more.

He pulls away, breathless, face still hovering above yours and watching you with hooded eyes. Pupils blown, the desire you feel reflected in his gaze.

“Want to go back to my place?” He asks and you nod without a second thought, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before he helps you up.

Steve’s white mid-century mansion comes into view as the limo pulls through the iron gate that separates it from the main street. Privacy hedges keep it hidden, away from prying eyes. Palm trees sit on either side of a perfectly manicured lawn, and landscape lights stream warm light against their trunks. A cherry-red BMW sits in front of the garage next to a black Porsche.

You can’t help how your jaw goes slack as you gaze up at it…his house. Carson pulls the car onto the circle driveway, and near the stairs that lead to the front door. Steve opens the car door, sliding off the leather seat and reaching his palm towards you like before. Your hand slides into his, and you hope to god your palm isn’t sweaty or that it isn’t shaking from the nerves that you feel.

His fingers slot between yours, leading you up the stairs to the front door. As he pushes the hard oak open, you freeze. Breath catching in your throat.

“You okay?” He turns to you, eyes bouncing around your face. Heat blooms beneath your cheeks, and you nod, stepping further into his home.

You glance around the open space. At the art that lines its wood-paneled walls, the grand piano near the staircase, and the view from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the backyard. Potted plants are scattered around: monstera and philodendron. It’s cozier than you expected, warm, and lived in. Smelling like vanilla and patchouli.

“You play?” You point to the piano and turn your head to him.

Steve stands in the kitchen, reaching into the wine cooler for a bottle and producing it with a smile.

“Just started learning, actually,” he reaches for the cork, popping the bottle before pouring each of you a glass.

“Is it for a role?”

You turn back to the piano and run your fingers along the keys, eying the music sheets. He comes from behind you, warmth radiating from his chest as it brushes your shoulder. Steve leans around you, placing the glasses onto it.

“Just for fun,” he whispers and turns you around until your chest is pressed to his.

You wonder if he can feel the violent thump of your heart as it crashes against your ribcage. Hear how your breath shakes as his fingers trace up your arms and back down to your waist.

He holds your hips, pressing your body against his.

“Man of many talents, I see,” you joke to calm your nerves.

His hazel eyes hold a warmth as he looks at you, amused.

One hand moves up to cup your jaw, his eyes affectionately dancing over your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his words making heat erupt at your center.

Your mind wanders as he leans closer, lips tracing yours. Making your breath catch and get lodged into your throat.

He presses them to yours, kissing you fully. It’s sweet, less hesitant than the first, and you know, if given the chance, you’d never want to stop kissing him. Could spend hours memorizing the shape of them.

And you know that isn’t even in the realm of possibility.

The kiss grows hungrier. Needier. You follow the push and pull of his lips, just as desperate as he is. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as his teeth graze your bottom lip, pulling it between his in a soft suck. A breathy moan escapes you, fingers curling into the front of his shirt.

But you’re not entirely present.

You could sleep with Steve, and there’s a large part of you who wants to. That can imagine spending the night next to him, tracing the lines of his abdomen as you fall asleep on his chest. But when you wake up, you know that’s all it would be—one night. And there’s a larger part of you that knows that wouldn’t be enough. The realization is like a cold bucket of water being splashed onto you.

Reluctantly, you pull away from him. He looks at you with a question on his brow, and you take a steady breath.

“I-I think I should go,” your voice is just above a whisper.

Steve swallows hard, rubbing an absent thumb across your cheek.

“Really?”

You clear your throat, clear your thoughts, and nod.

“Yeah.”

He nods with you, a moment passing before his hand leaves your hips. The absence of his warmth immediately noticeable as he puts space between you.

“Okay,” he says, “I’ll have Carson take you back to the hotel.”

Steve holds his hand out to you, and you grin as you take it. His fingers automatically lace through yours as he guides you back out the door and to the car.

He stops next to the limo, running a thumb along your knuckles.

“Thanks for a great night,” you tell him, “it was…unforgettable.”

“Thank you,” and he says your name, your full name, with a hint of fondness that makes your smile grow wide.

He opens the car door for you, allowing you to slide in and get comfortable before he closes it behind you. You roll the window down, gazing up at him.

“Find me if you ever find yourself back in Hawkins,” you joke, knowing it’s highly unlikely.

“I will,” he promises, tapping the car's roof so Carson knows you’re ready to go.

You watch him grow smaller from the rear window as the car gets further away until he disappears entirely. You turn back in your seat and trace your lips with your fingertips, the ghost of his kiss still lingering.

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restwellsoon · 2 months ago

Text

Nothing in Particular | Chapter 5 - To Say What You Mean and Mean What You Say Pt. 2

Pairing: Omota Uramichi x F!Reader

Summary: A series of unexpected encounters and misunderstandings causes you to fill a large and gaping hole in Uramichi’s life.

Minors and blank blogs DNI! You will be blocked!

Warnings: unprotected sex

“Well ? Are you gonna spill everything that’s happened, or do I have to ask you everything I’ve been wondering, question by question?”

The menu distracted you both for a few minutes, but after the server took your order, Utano went straight to business. You’d left her hanging for weeks, and work had kept you both apart. Whatever was going on between you and Uramichi hadn’t left her mind, and she needed to get updates from you since Uramichi was difficult to corner and get alone.

As if you forgot what had happened in your own life, Utano decided to provide a refresher. “Where did we leave off?” The server brought your drinks first, and she dramatically sipped on her tea, pondering slowly until she grinned. “Ahh, yes. You and Uramichi took the train together after the work party and…?”

“And I slept over at his place,” you said slowly, copying her behavior and drinking yourself.

She wiggled her eyebrows and her eyes sparkled. For a moment, she ignored the fact that her friend might have had sex with her depressing co-worker. “So you two…?”

Pretending to look for your food’s arrival and commenting on the other treats that passed by, you tried to avoid describing what really happened for as long as possible. Utano rolled her eyes at your stalling.

Finally, you cleared your throat, speaking as quietly as you could. “No. I uh–I got really drunk, stripped down to my underwear, crawled into his bed, and made Uramichi sleep on the floor.”

Utano laughed, like really laughed. It was one of those ones that came from the belly, and she even knocked over her fork while doing so, drawing others’ attention to you temporarily.

“If it makes you feel better,” she said in-between wheezing and thanking a worker for bringing her a clean utensil, “he probably chose to sleep on the floor, so you wouldn’t freak out in the morning.”

Staring at the amber liquid in your cup, you considered this new perspective. All this time, you’d been lamenting over your bad behavior, unsure of even where to start with your apology or if you should even say anything at all. Uramichi truly was a kind person.

“You’re smiling into your drink,” Utano commented, cheek in hand as she side-eyed all of the desserts that passed by. She was growing impatient.

“You said he was intense, but I think he’s more considerate if anything,” you said.

“Intensity doesn’t nullify consideration,” Utano reminded you. “If anything, he’s considerate to the point that it might be…”

She paused, trying to think of how to describe Uramichi without going into too much detail. Uramichi would rather wear the most humiliating outfits to get the scene over with than protest with the costume department. If the kids were having fun, Uramichi would pick them up and play with them for as long as they wanted despite all of his aches and pains. Hell, Iketeru told her that Uramichi sat through an awkward work dinner where he was berated for something trivial so Kikaku wouldn’t get in trouble.

“Self-destructive.”

Her words were heavy, and they sank down in your gut along with the cake you ordered.

“How sad,” you finally commented, unable to find another other word that was more fitting. You swirled the last remaining bit of tea in your cup. “I hope he finds happiness one day.”

Having known each other for nearly four years now, Utano said, “Oh, that won’t happen. The darkness in his eyes has slowly eaten away at him ☆”

It was true too. They all found Together with Maman during the darkest points in their lives, yet while Iketeru and her own demons retreated, Uramichi seemed to commune with his own. Rather than hopelessness, apathy had befallen him, leaving him spineless.

But was Uramichi really spineless? Utano wondered. Or was he simply trying his best to game life? After all, they were at the mercy of their employers and needed to work in order to survive. It was difficult to be happy when you were just doing your best to stay alive.

“That’s just adulthood,” you confirmed, not understanding where Uramichi’s co-workers were coming from. Perhaps it was because you didn’t know him well-enough, but you still stood by that thought you first had of him. He was that beautiful doll that sat on the shelf, the one that never got played with.

“But yeah. Yesterday–or I guess this morning?–he and um, Us–Usa…? The blond , coincidentally ended up staying at my place cuz they drank too much. Uramichi and I shared my bed.”

“ And ?” Utano said impatiently. It was only naturally for someone who was in a committed, happy, and long-term relationship to live vicariously through their friends’ disastrous love lives.

“...and we just slept,” you said gloomily.

Dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a napkin, you were impressed per usual with Utano’s ability to eat and show nothing for it. You supposed that chasing children on set and dancing also helped with maintaining her figure.

“And if you didn’t ?” Utano pretended for a minute that the man you were interested in wasn’t her co-worker. “Would you complain then that he didn’t want to date you?”

“Are you on my side or his?” You joked, understanding what she was trying to say. Utano had the misfortune of being privy to your dating mishaps in your 20s until you gave up altogether. If you wanted something casual, they were too serious, and vice versa. She was curious to know what you wanted in your 30s now that you were wiser.

“I don’t care if we date.” She shot you a look. “ Really , I don’t. I learned my lesson from last time. But what I told you before was true. I’m not looking for anything in particular, but I’m open to seeing where this road takes me.”

Her features twisted into disbelief. “I remember saying that years ago.”

Knowing that the conversation was going into dangerous territory you shrugged.

—

“And get this! This dude was so drunk, he said that some konbini angel saved us,” Usahara laughed, pointing that dude out as Uramichi. “So who was it, Uramichi, huh? I’m sure it was one of your gymnast friends from the past. Quit trying to be cool and mysterious, dude. I bet it was Supermura , wasn’t it?”

Iketeru looked at Uramichi expectantly while Kumatani couldn’t have cared less. Utano was disinterested in the conversation completely, scrolling and tapping away at her phone.

He sighed, already at his breaking point. Uramichi clocked in less than ten minutes ago too. This was a new record. If it weren’t for this ridiculous 8 AM meeting, he would have stalked off to the smoke room for a break, but instead, he had to make small talk at this ungodly hour because of Derekida and Furode who were unsurprisingly late.

Right on cue, the door burst. Derekida and Furode strolled languidly, to-go coffee cups in hand. They were 45 minutes late.

“Everyone here?” Furode asked. Using his sunglasses as a headband, he fished for the rolled up papers in his back pocket before sitting down. Neither of them bothered to actually check before talking.

“Well, since no one said anything, that must mean we’re all here. So,” he cleared his voice, smoothing out the papers. The cast did their best to hide their expressions as he repeated the process twice before speaking again. “Talent’s off for the next three days. Paid too . The writers and big wigs gotta think of a game plan for how we’ll promote Uramichi for the Galaxy Awards nomination. So rest up. We’ll be busy in the upcoming months–Uramichi especially.”

The cast sat silently as they let the producer’s words sink in. Three paid days off? Should they be worried of possible layoffs or an unexpected announcement about series cancelation? No, no, no. Furode said this was for the Galaxy Awards. There was no way that MHK, the greedy bastards that they were, would let their cash cow die. A more reasonable action would be for them to review their time cards. They were most likely taking their time from their PTO bank instead.

Uramichi in particular didn’t like the good news that was announced, trying to process just how busy he might possibly be. Anxiety bubbled up at the thought of long stretches of overtime and traveling from shoot to shoot and interview to interview. If awards shows were anything like athletic meets and competitions…

Glancing over at the gymnast oniisan, Iketeru couldn’t help but admire Uramichi’s expression. He looked determined–no, motivated–by their boss’ words. “You can do it, oniisan,” he cheered his co-host on, though he doubted that he needed it until Uramichi responded.

“Can I…?” He whispered back into the void, not looking at Iketeru or anything else for that matter. “Just thinking about it already exhausts me.”

“So uh, is that all for today?” Usahara dared to ask. Uramichi and Iketeru looked as if they talking about philosophy while Kumatani wore that blank expression that meant he was zoning out. Utano still scrolled, although more discreetly, on her phone.

Derekida looked up, using an index finger to push up his slipping sunglasses. “Oh, you’re still here?” He waved them off while looking back at Furode’s rolled up papers. “Yeah, that’s it for today. Now scram . The writers need to use this room in ten.”

Following his directions as always, they left, moving in silence as a group. Their footsteps echoed in the halls until finally they left the building. Once free from the shackles of work, they took in the bright sun and fresh air.

Iketeru glanced at his watch before asking if anyone knew the time. It was nine on the dot.

Yes, the sun was shining brightly. (No vengeful sun spirits here.) The air was fresh. The birds even sang to ring in their three days of freedom.

But rather than taking a moment to smell the roses, they collectively sighed. The sun’s glare hurt their eyes. The fresh air hurt their lungs, which were too used to the stagnant air of the closed set. The birds’ songs reminded them of the shrill screams of the children.

Most importantly though, they realized something with the righteous anger only known to those who’d been working too hard and for far too long–this meeting should have been a fucking email.

—

Guess what~

You reacted to Utano’s text with a ? reaction, not bothering to guess. You’d been working since 4 am to deal with an overseas client.

I have the next three days off since the higher ups are thinking of ways to promo Uramichi’s nom ヾ(*´ ∇ `)ﾉ

Your eyes narrowed as you typed, disregarding the ellipses that indicated that Utano was still typing.

Good for you …which means that Uramichi also has the next three days off He should rest then since he’ll be busy Or maybe you can rock his world for a few hours (or days) LOL

She flipped her phone around for a moment. Who knew that playing cupid could be so fun.

And before you try to say that you have work, I know you can use your PTO or have someone cover you for a few hours. C’mon boss lady, use that power for a dick down\(♡´౪<��)/

God, she knew you too well. You deleted your response about having to work tomorrow, hitting a button so you no longer had to look at your conversation. Staring at the dark screen, you wondered if you should take this opportunity.

When he came over, he basically said that he was down to fuck, even if he didn’t say it directly. You recalled his words for a moment–”When I miss you again, I’ll be good to you the next time we meet”–and you wondered if maybe he’d be interested in something more. With how vague his words were and how confusing he was, being good to you could mean a lot of things: good sex, no teasing, treating you well… Your mind wandered for a moment into a daydream, imagining Uramichi being good to you as a partner until it was interrupted by Utano’s laughter.

You shook your head.

“Yeah, well, of course I have to at least try,” you said to yourself, laughing at your hesitation.

—

From the corner of his eye, Uramichi could see his phone screen light up, but he didn’t dare to fully look at it otherwise he’d break his form. He stayed in his full planche hold for another five breaths, slowly letting his body rest on the sixth. He rolled out the tension from his body, grabbing his phone during his rest period.

A smile almost crept on his face when your name popped up on his notifications. He was grateful though that he didn't when he read the body of your message.

Good evening, When you’re free, I’d like to talk to you.

Uramichi felt bad for your subordinates whose jobs depended on their ability to understand what you meant. He reread your message three times. This had to be about something bad, right?

Sure ◉‿◉ I’m at the gym right now, but I can call you once I’m done

He was surprised by how quickly you responded.

You’re working out at this hour? Impressive. Have a good workout, and if you’re too tired after, don’t worry about calling. It’s not that important

His timer rang, telling him that he needed to get back to work. Finished with his planches, he thought that doing a few extra lifts would help him gather his thoughts. As Uramichi loaded the plates onto the bar, he wondered if maybe he should take a picture of himself at the gym. He had a good pump going on, so maybe he could impress you even more.

He switched over to the other side to load the same amount. No, that was stupid. Besides, the thought of him taking a selfie was already making him embarrassed.

Settling himself on the bench, he thought that maybe you’d want proof that he was at the gym instead of making excuses for avoiding the conversation. If it wasn’t that important, you wouldn’t have asked to speak about it, you would have texted him instead.

Gripping the bar in his hands, he lifted it off the support, grunting as he lowered it and pushed, wavering slightly before he reset it. Something wasn’t right.

“That’s why…” he mumbled to himself, realizing that he accidentally doubled the amount of plates on each side.

Maybe it would be best if he left–to prevent an injury and to take a selfie in the comfort of his own bathroom.

—

With his towel wrapped around his waist, Uramichi looked at himself in the mirror, flexing and relaxing his well-deserved body. Years of training kept him strong and defined physically, but his mental fortitude was lacking. His fingers shook while trying to capture a picture of himself, all of them blurry, until he gave up. What an embarrassment.

He should have just called you instead of wasting his own time.

“Hello?” You said on the other line. “Uramichi?”

Suddenly he was nervous, staring at your name on the screen. This had to be something serious. Did you not want to see him anymore? He wasn’t sure if he could act like a stranger around you. How would he face Utano? “ Hi. ”

“Thanks for calling me,” you said, glancing at the time on your kitchen clock. “I know it’s late.”

“It’s not that late,” Uramichi tried to argue.

Your clock said that it was 10:45 PM.

“So what did you want to talk about?”

It was your turn to pause, unsure of how to even start the conversation. Would it have been better to text it instead? But typing it out was more embarrassing than saying it though. It meant that you consciously chose the words that you did, read it as a fully formed sentence and still decided to text that. You would have stared at your screen until he responded.

“Utano said that you have tomorrow off.”

“Yeah, the next day too,” he said before explaining that it had to do with the Galaxy Awards. “It’s nice to finally be rewarded for my hard work with an actual break instead of more work.”

Did he want to spend tomorrow relaxing instead? A part of you felt guilty for your selfish request, but still, you started it, so you had to see it through.

“I’m off tomorrow too actually, so I was wondering—”

“—Oh that’s great,” he said, cutting you off. “You work so hard. Wanna hang out ?”

You let out a shaky breath, both relieved and surprised that he wanted to spend time with you. You weren’t being selfish after all.

Hearing your sigh on the other end, Uramichi wondered if you were annoyed. He sounded desperate to be with you, didn’t he? He should have let you finish instead of excitedly asking for your time.

“I’d love to, but um—can we do that thing we talked about last time?”

His silence meant that he didn’t remember, you thought. This conversation is over the phone, you reminded yourself, you can blurt it out, and if it gets awkward, you can hang up, block him and never go to Utano’s work ever again.

“Can I fuck you?”

The silence was heavy, and you double checked your phone to make sure that you didn’t reflexively hang up and blocked him. His name still showed up on the screen, and it counted how long you’d been talking for.

Uramichi didn’t know how to react, grateful that his phone sat on the counter. Both hands were placed on either side of it, and he leaned over, staring himself in the mirror. His face was bright red up to his ears, and the color reached down to his neck and the chest that he was so proud of.

“Sorry,” you started to apologize, “that was out of line, and–”

“Yeah,” he finally said, voice breathy and low. “Can I fuck you too?”

He felt like a fool.

You laughed quietly. Uramichi had a silly way of responding at times. “I’d love that. Can I come over to your place?”

This time, he made sure to answer quickly.

—

Ten o’clock was far too early to come over, and Uramichi regretted giving you that time. After sleeping in, he spent nearly an hour debating on whether or not he should go to the gym. He didn’t want his routine to be off, but he also didn’t want to be tired for the rest of the day. After squeezing in a quick lift, he tidied up his place, pushing his dumbbells into a corner and stuffing his oversized baguette pillow and Kotori-san into a closet.

He nearly tore the front door off its hinges when he heard a knock and then consequently slammed it when he realized it was just solicitors. That made him slower to respond to the second knock five minutes after. He sprinted to the door when he saw you calling.

You greeted him in a sundress that teased the body beneath the fabric. It seemed like you wanted to cling to the last bit of summer before things cooled down, legs bare aside from a set of strappy sandals. If Uramichi saw you on the street, he would have guessed that you were on your way to a date. Instead, you were here, meeting him at his apartment. He didn’t have too long to dwell on what a date with you might entail; by asking him if you could come in, you interrupted his thoughts.

Like the first time you met, he took you with him.

Uramichi spent too much time cleaning to think about how he would set the mood. Luckily you had gone over the boring things over the phone–yes to condoms, yeah you both were clean–but all that was left was, well, sex . It was too early to drink and he already smoked when he got out of bed. Sobriety made him hyperaware and he hated it.

“Wanna meet me in bed while I wash up?” You suggested.

He slackened his grip once you were inside, but now his hand loosely held yours in an awkward state of close but not close enough. The proximity made you self-conscious. The sun was brighter than you expected, and you were worried about your sweat.

“That’s fine,” he said, still holding your hand. “Not sure if you remember where the bathroom is, but it’s over there,” he said, pointing with his free hand. The fuzzy memory of Uramichi’s apartment became clearer with sober eyes. “Then my bedroom is that door beside it.”

He let go after dropping you off in front of the bathroom room, quickly stripping down to his boxers. The door creaked slightly, making him jump, and he was surprised to see you standing there.

“Can you help me unzip my dress?” You asked shyly, already half-turning around. “The zipper’s stuck,” you explained.

There was something incredibly intimate about holding your hair aside, so Uramichi could focus on helping you undress. An hour before you arrived, you agonized over what to wear, unsure of what impression you wanted to leave him with. You settled on a sundress, unassuming yet deceivingly sexy, but forgot the reason why you hardly wore it until it came to taking it off.

One palm pressed gently against your shoulder to create tension for the zipper to slide, and with a soft tug, it finally slid down with little resistance. His hands pushed down the sleeves, and the rest of the fabric fell with it. Now he could see and feel your bare skin. You were on fire.

Scanning over the details of your lingerie–because that was the only thing that it could be with all of the lace and sheer gauze that adorned it–he habitually clicked his tongue, being reminded of all of the costumes he wore for work. He mumbled something about it looking inconvenient.

“Thanks,” you said, turning to face him.

If the back was inconvenient, then the front was troublesome. Sheer bra cups barely hid your breasts from him with the lace appliques that covered your nipples, the only bit of modesty that you had. The sheer material had covered enough of your bottom, but in the front, it dipped low, as if guiding the eyes down to where it wanted the wearer to look.

It was clear that Uramichi was uncomfortable, and you never had the chance to ask if he’d done something casual like this before. You supposed that it was fortunate that you were more experienced in these matters.

“Let’s lay down and talk,” you told him, giving him a light push onto the bed. He scrambled to give you space, but you crawled right beside him.

Uramichi wondered if this was how things would have been if you didn’t fall asleep before he could join you, with you taking the lead.

“So how have you been? Your friend must have had a bad hangover.”

Not really wanting to talk about Usahara, he gave in to this being a better option than letting silence fall between you. He didn’t bother correcting you on the friend part, only commenting, “Yeah, but his body is used to that by now.”

“And what about you, Michi?”

“Oh, I wasn’t hungover at all. I only had a few drinks.”

“Yeah, I know you’ve got a high tolerance, which is why…” you trailed off, remembering that he said you couldn’t bring him back to your place because of it. “Ah, sorry. I was just remembering what you said. You’re funny. ”

Uramichi didn’t understand why you thought he was funny for saying that, but now he understood why Usahara wants to be funny so badly. Your voice softened when you said that, and your eyes looked into his to make sure he heard you. Your lips sat in a half smile as if he was the only man in the world that could make you laugh. If this was his reward for being funny, then yeah, it was something he’d strive for.

“I might have acted recklessly again,” you admitted, “so let’s take things slow if you want. I want this to be fun for both of us.”

“Well then, what do you like?”

Surprised by Uramichi’s question, you blurted out, “Oh, like sexually?” Well duh, obviously. “Um, I wouldn’t mind if you were a little mean to me in bed…” Suddenly you were shy.

“Oh, like over the weekend?”

He was so direct. You couldn’t face him but let out a quiet ‘yes.’ That judgemental ‘hm’ he let out was exciting and embarrassing all at once.

“What about you?” You asked, thinking it was unfair that all of the attention was on you. It was time to turn the tables on Uramichi.

“A lot of kissing,” he said. Despite his bluntness from earlier, he couldn’t look you in the eyes. “You can also be loud if you want. I don’t hate that.”

Somehow your bodies had inched closer to each other, and you felt each other’s heat. “It must have been torture then, to tell me to quiet down,” you teased.

He tried to downplay it. “It wasn’t that bad, but it could have been worse if things went on for longer.”

Hunger shone in both your eyes, and you moved closed until finally you kissed. The impact was soft but grew with neediness as each second passed. Your tongues explored each other’s mouths, nipping and sucking the meaty part of your lips. Hands clutched as whatever they could grab, kneading and rubbing, as your lower halves found friction in each other.

Uramichi was the first to break away, getting on top and settling between your thighs. He stared down at your heaving chest, your bruised lips, your disheveled hair. Your nipples teased him from behind your bra, and it was then that he decided to suck on them. It was a good choice. You yelped in surprise, tugging at his hair. You made another noise when he used his hand to pinch the other one. By the time he was done, your bra was wet with his spit, so he trailed his kisses downwards.

“You’re wet already?” He asked, glancing down at the slick fabric that barely clothed your sex.

With utter fascination, Uramichi traced his index finger along your slit, the damp cloth sticking to your skin. He retraced the movement a few more times, watching as it molded to the outline of your cunt. On his last way down, his finger dipped in a little, pushing the wet fabric inside. You groaned, shifting from the intrusion.

In a shift of energy and intention, you both hurried to remove what remained of your clothes. You ended up helping Uramichi slide off his boxers since you wiggled out of your lingerie set first.

He loved the way your face looked when you saw his cock, eyes widening as your mouth hung open. He didn’t think his size was anything impressive, but the look in your eyes when they finally met his told him that he was wrong. There was a clear expression of approval and better yet excitement .

But he couldn’t think of all the things that you wanted to do to him because he was focused on everything he wanted to do to you. He ducked down between your thighs to get a better look at what he wanted. Your pussy was puffy and shone with your wetness, making a squelching noise when he used two fingers to spread your lips. Impulsively, he leaned forward to give your clit a kiss, making you moan and drag him closer with one of your legs.

Gently pushing one finger in, he glanced up to check your reaction, moving knuckle by knuckle until it hilted. Your brows knitted together and your hips shifted. You wanted him to move. Uramichi pumped his finger, watching the way you sucked him back in, ears perked up to the sound of your contented sighs.

Since you took one finger well, he thought another wouldn’t hurt, but you bucked up into his face. Apparently it was too much.

His apology came out muffled from his position, fingers still in remorse.

“It’s fine,” you breathed out, “your fingers are just bigger than mine, so I’m not used to them yet.”

Your face scrunched up and your lips were twisted, back arched in an uncomfortable position. Uramichi tried to think of how he could comfort you when you returned to silence. As always, he returned to his training.

“Breathe through it,” he said. Breathing helped the body relax, which you needed if either of you wanted to have sex. “How do you expect to take my cock if you can’t even handle two fingers?” He didn’t mention that it’d probably be best if he added in a third to prep you.

It seemed that Uramichi took your preference into consideration, speaking in that dark tone of his. Your body felt impossibly hot, and finally you let out a few ragged breaths, a wordless way of telling Uramichi to go on.

Going at an even pace, Uramichi reveled in the wet noises your pussy made, daring to go even faster. You still weren’t talking, just breathing heavily with the occasional groan.

His fingers curled up when he felt a soft, tender spot. Your back arched again, and he continued to press there.

You sounded airy and light, as if his fingerfucking had already sent your soul to heaven. “Mm… Michi,” you murmured, carding your fingers through his hair. It was a miracle that you could even say anything at all. Your legs were shaking from all the pleasure. “You better fuck me soon.”

“Are you really in a position to be making demands?” Uramichi asked. His face was flushed yet his body showed no signs of exhaustion, his fingers still pumping in and out of you at an even pace, occasionally slowly to scissor and spread inside of you.

You whimpered in response.

Trying to push in a third finger, it was too tight, Uramichi realized. As much as you tried to help him–or perhaps help yourself–by fucking yourself on his hand, you couldn’t get back that middle knuckle, even if he stacked the fingers on top of each other.

He pulled out to your protest. “What?” Pre-cum smeared against his stomach and connected him to a thin string that matched a small wet spot on his bed. “Weren’t you just begging me to fuck you?”

He grabbed at the condom on his nightstand, doing his best to open it while you kept yourself entertained. Between the scent of your desire on his fingers, its slipperiness, and watching you play with yourself, rolling on the condom was difficult, and his efforts were futile when he realized it didn’t fit. You offered to buy some since you could stop by the store on your way over, but Uramichi failed to tell you what size to get.

“We don’t need it,” you said impatiently, even going so far as to snap when Uramichi gave you a look of uncertainty. Over the phone you mentioned that you were on the pill.

Your words sent a jolt of lust down Uramichi’s spine that went straight to his cock, and he looked down to make sure that he didn’t cum prematurely.

Using one hand to guide it in, he wet it at your entrance, sliding both the pre and your slick all over. Enjoying the sounds you made, he teased you further by rubbing the head against your clit in circles until you were begging him to fuck you.

Uramichi’s prep was worth it. He slid in with minimal effort, though it was obvious that you were stretched by your body tensing. Your walls were hot and clamped down with every inch forward.

Leaning back, he said, “Your pussy looks so nice with my cock in it.”

It was the right thing to say. Suddenly you felt impossibly tight, but Uramichi tried to press against it, giving a few experimental strokes before committing to fucking you with intention.

“ Fuck ,” you said, pulling him into your chest as you looked at him with half-dazed eyes, “Michi, you feel so good.”

Focusing on the act, you both let yourself get lost in the feeling. With your legs pushed back and wrapped around him, Uramichi leaned forward to fuck you deeper, hitting a spot that made you squeal and buck up against him. You told him to keep pressing right there and begged him not to stop, calling out his name as you came on his cock. He thought he could help you ride out your orgasm, but to his embarrassment, he came shortly after.

When he stopped moving, you looked at him, and sheepishly he admitted to cumming quickly. He was grateful that he wasn’t keeping track of the time, but now he was worried that you’d make fun of him or try to leave. Women wanted a partner that could last, didn’t they? That’s what he saw in all the porn he watched at least. He knew that his last girlfriend needed more time too.

“I’m that good, huh?” You said, admiring his chest that flushed pink and the sheen of sweat on his skin. “I can take responsibility for that,” you laughed.

You opened your arms, urging him to settle in them. Your heartbeat was deafening in his ears as his eyes grew heavy. He drifted off to sleep, dreaming about taking you on a date in that sundress when he woke up.

—

His room was darker when he woke up, and Uramichi blindly reached for you, but you weren’t there. All he could smell was your shampoo on his pillows and a mixture of your sweat and perfume on his sheets. Rolling onto his back, he checked his phone. It was now the mid-afternoon. He checked his texts, but none of them were from you. He sighed. What was he expecting?

Faintly, he heard his fridge door shut, and he sat up, hastily throwing on his boxers to investigate. Maybe, just maybe…

“Oh!” You startled, beaming as Uramichi entered the kitchen. Your smile fell as you realized that he caught you rifling through his fridge. “Sorry, I should have waited until you woke up, but I was really thirsty.” You held up your cup of water as proof. “I hope you don’t mind.” You even bowed slightly to show your remorse.

When he didn’t say anything, you looked up. “I thought you left,” was all he said.

“Without saying goodbye?” You took a gulp of water, setting it down on the counter. “No way. That’s rude.”

“Besides, I was wondering if you wanted to grab something to eat. We could order something too if you don’t feel like going out. If you don’t wanna do that, we could also make something too.”

Your rambling about food options was lost on Uramichi as relief settled in his heart, all of his worries melting away. He nodded along before grabbing your hand. “Yeah, I’m fine with whatever, but first, let’s head back to bed. There’s something I wanna do to you.”

Catching his words, you understood what he meant. An impish grin settled on your face as you asked him if he could fuck you on the kitchen counter.

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#uramichi omota x reader #uramichi x reader #life lessons with uramichi oniisan #uramichi omota #rest writes

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songmingisthighs · 2 years ago

Text

Fucking RA

Group : ATEEZ

Pairing : RA!seonghwa x afab!reader

Genre : College!AU, smut

Word count : 5.5k

Warning : MDNI, dirty dirty explicit smut; dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, masturbation slight voyeurism (??), unprotected sex (don't do this irl if you don't want your cooch or peepee to clap), creampie and I really don't know what the fuck I wrote

a/n : I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR A LONG ASS WHILE 😭😭 i told @bobateastay about this back then and i decided that maybe posting this before whoretober ends is a good idea. but then i got distracted and shit happened so i said ehh posting this before nutvember ends is fine too. mind you this is an experimental work. as in if this fic receives positive feedback and support, i might make more oneshots like this lmao

You had just arrived back to your co-ed dorms when your friend, Wooyoung suddenly barged into your room with a stupid grin on his face. "Guess what happened," he told you, sounding beyond excited.

As you placed your bag by the side of your bed, you dropped down to sit on your bed. "They're finally getting rid of extra cost for extra cups at the cafeteria?" you guessed first. Wooyoung shook his head. "They... Are changing the campus mascot?" you guessed again which caused Wooyoung to scoff, "Please, that bunny might be crusty, but it's a sex symbol," "Ewh, how?" you cringed but he didn't answer. "Come on, guess again!" he whined whilst walking towards your bed and plopping down on it as if it was his own bed. "Why can't you just tell me?" you pretended to whine back at him. He rolled his eyes at your attempt at showing how annoying he is but he talked anyways, "San finally got caught fucking by Seonghwa hyung so he's being punished as we speak!" He wheezed out happily.

You can only stare as your friend laughed hysterically on your bed. "I don't know how you can be so happy at your friend's misfortune," you sighed. It took Wooyoung a while but he stopped laughing, "It's not that it gave me happiness, but we made a bet that he wouldn't get caught by Seonghwa hyung! Out of all the RAs, he's the only one who has a stick up his butt and maybe seeing San's balls can calm him down," he said as he wiped a stray tear away from his eyes.

The man in question, Park Seonghwa, is one of the people in Wooyoung's close-knit friend group. Not so surprisingly, he's the RA. He's notorious for being a strict person, following the rules and never showing bias even with his friends. He once let Hongjoong spend the night on the lobby sofa because he came back at 3 am from working on his assignment. Sure, it might be affected by the fact that Hongjoong had accidentally kicked Seonghwa's on progress lego death star and ruined them, but the dorm has a rule where they are not allowed in after 12 am so he was just following the rules. Another incident was when Wooyoung created a commotion in the middle of the night for a stupid TikTok trend that cost him a week of helping the janitors clean the dorm toilets.

Not to mention, Park Seonghwa has this ability to bust anyone who's having sex in the dorm. It's like a super sense or something. The co-ed dorm is truly lucky to have him, but the students found it annoying. If his friends can't bribe him, their fate is worse than death when faced with the man.

Despite his strictness, you can't deny that the man is extremely hot and given the chance, you'd wanna get railed by him. The thought, of course, you kept to yourself. If any of your friends found out that you have the hots for Seonghwa, that'll be the end of you. But you realized that you are always affected by Seonghwa without him having to do anything. So to evade accidentally letting anyone know, you simply avoid Seonghwa and kept your personal interactions to a minimum or made sure that you're with other people when he's around. It might sound too much, but the system works.

You cringed at Wooyoung's comment, "I'd be concerned if seeing San's balls calm Seonghwa down," to which Wooyoung teasingly squinted his eyes at you, "That's homophobic," he joked. You only rolled your eyes and threw a pillow at his face, "Get the fuck out Wooyoung, I wanna go take a shower," you tried to shoo Wooyoung away. He raised an eyebrow and instead of moving away, he strikes a ridiculous pose on your bed, "Is that an invitation?" to add to his teasing, he winked at you. Wordlessly, you lift up the same pillow that dropped to his side as a warning that you'll hit him again. In the end, Wooyoung ran out of the room cackling happily after messing with you.

You knew that you had to be quick to secure a shower because, in less than an hour, people will start piling in. Due to a sudden change in your schedule for the week, you had the luxury of being able to show in peace with no one around. Being in a co-ed dorm means that while you don't shower with the males, they are only separated by a wall. And luckily, you've been blessed with the opportunity to shower in a completely empty communal shower room. Call it what you want, you decide it's the universe's way of rewarding you for being good.

So you quickly gather your shower caddy and a change of clothes and head to the bathroom. As you closed your door, you bumped slightly into someone and when you turned around, you saw Seonghwa staring down at you with a smile on his face. "Hey, showering?" he asked, nodding his head to the things in your hands. You looked down to see your panties on full display and you immediately tried to discreetly hide them under your shirt (but you failed). You chuckled awkwardly and nodded, "Yeah... The bathroom should be empty now so I can shower more comfortably," Seonghwa nodded slowly at your answer. Thank God he was gentlemanly enough to not mention your panties or you would've dropped dead at that very moment. "Well, have a good shower!" he waved to you before walking away.

Almost immediately after Seonghwa left you, you dashed to the bathroom that was only two doors down from across your room. You can't lose the chance of showering in peace just because you embarrassed yourself in front of Seonghwa. Sweet, sweet Seonghwa who seems to always have glossy lips, long and delicate fingers, and his damn tongue that darts out like a snake. Without you realizing it, you were clenching your thighs.

You were in such a hurry and so deep in your thoughts that you didn't even realize you hadn't brought your towel to the bathroom. Sadly, you realized this when you're already butt naked.

Cursing yourself, you immediately put on the oversized shirt on your body, neglecting your underwear because you'd only be a minute and your room's so close.

Knowing that you were in such a vulnerable state, you peeked your head first into the hallway, making sure that no one was around. Thankfully, the hallway was very empty, not a single soul can be found. Heck, you were sure not even the ghosts are roaming the floor at that moment. So you got cocky. You walked leisurely into your room, get your towel, and then walked back to the bathroom. On your way, you accidentally dropped your towel on the floor so you mindlessly bent down to get it, not caring that you were very much exposed.

As you walked into the bathroom, however, you managed to miss the person standing at the end of the hallway with wide eyes, frozen in his place.

The shower was refreshing. You took your time scrubbing the ickiness from studying (not that you sweat or anything in class, but you feel the need to rid yourself of studying), and then you washed your hair, carefully massaging the scalp that you hope can transfer to your brain as it has been forced to think hard that day.

Whilst in the shower, you couldn't help but think of your interaction with Park Seonghwa earlier. Your mind drifted off to the way he spoke to you, how his voice is melodious and smooth and thick like honey but still has an edge of command to him. Makes you wonder how he is in bed. You were pretty sure that he's dominant with maybe a daddy kink. How could he not? The man LOOKS like that. You can't really put it into words, but he feels like the embodiment of the words "daddy" and "mine". He might have a baby girl fetish too, but it might just be your wishful thinking.

Mind elsewhere, you didn't even realize that your hand had slipped down between your legs and started caressing your inner thighs. The stimulation made your mind drift from thinking about Seonghwa and his kinks to thinking about Seonghwa and his kinks. You parted your folds to feel your arousal slowly seeping out of you. The feeling made you bite down a small moan. As your fingers began circling your clit, you imagined him naked in front of you, puffs of breath leaving his pink luscious lips as he panted out your name. Your brain imagined how he would sound like when he was putting you in your place, how he wants you to do things to him. And you can only imagine how pretty his cock would look like and how big and girthy it is. You couldn't help but physically shudder at the thought. Your fingers worked quicker, chasing your high. You imagined it was Seonghwa playing with your pussy. When you slip two fingers into your hole, you imagined it to be his fingers. Though, you believed that his fingers are more experienced and it could reach the parts inside you that you'd never reach before. Just the thought of Seonghwa probably able to make you reach an earth-shattering orgasm made your knees buckle and you had to anchor yourself onto the shower wall in front of you. The warm water running down your back drove your brain into believing that Seonghwa was behind you and that was his body heat you're feeling. You began whining to yourself as you felt your climax approaching.

"Seonghwa, oh god- please, please, please, please, please, I wa- I wanna-" you couldn't even finish your sentence before your legs buckle as you finally reached your orgasm. As you slowly catch your breath, you pulled your hand from between your legs slowly. The sight of your fingers covered in your juice from the thought of (what you can only classify as) your friend made you blush. You felt guilty for thinking of him in such a way, you honestly felt like a pervert. Still ashamed, you immediately wash off your hand and continued with your shower with the image of a naked Seonghwa that your brain concocted at the back of your mind.

After (finally) finishing your shower, you came out of the bathroom feeling fresh and a lot more relaxed. Looking at yourself in the mirror outside of the shower stall as you massage your hair with your towel, you saw the way your skin glistened and you honestly feel like a goddess. You wondered, does the effect come because of the relaxing shower you just had or was it because you just had an orgasm from the thought of the hot RA?

As you were walking out of the bathroom area, you were stopped when you bumped into a hard chest. You looked up to see Seonghwa towering over you. His eyes seemed dark and intimidating and he was standing tall. It both terrified but also turned you on.

"Uh... Hi Seonghwa, wha-" you couldn't finish your question because he had already menacingly stepped forward which made you step backwards until your back hit the cold mirror of the bathroom. He caged you by putting his hands on either side of your head, making sure you can't leave. Seeing him look at you with menacing eyes and confidence made you very nervous. Had he heard you moaning? Had he heard you touching yourself while moaning his name?

"Did you know I was standing at the end of the hallway when you bent down, showcasing, or perhaps flaunting your pussy like a bitch in heat?" he asked, tongue darting out from between his lips and you could've sworn your knees buckled at the sight. Or maybe it was his VERY dirty words. "I- I- I-," your brain couldn't seem to be able to function at that moment, you don't know if it was the steam you just inhaled while you were showering or if it was because of Seonghwa. You're willing to bet it was the latter.

Seonghwa saw your state of incoherence and smirked, "Cat got your tongue now? Where was the brazen slut who roamed the hallways without underwear?" he asked as his right hand suddenly drop to caress the length of your arm before it rested on your hip. "Gotta say, I wasn't done looking at it. You were so quick to stand back up and leave, I couldn't get enough image to get myself off," at that, your eyes dropped to his crotch and that's when you finally took notice of his boner. The fabric of his jeans seemed snug and the crease only emphasized the size of his cock.

The sight of his cock straining in his jeans made you clench your thighs together as if to suppress the feeling growing between them, something that Seonghwa noticed immediately. He smirked as he grab your hand carefully and brought it to his crotch, "You feel this? This is all because of you," your knees almost buckled but thankfully he pressed on your body and his lips caught your earlobe, "I hate that a glimpse of your pussy is able to turn me on like this," you moaned out when he bit into your earlobe, your own hand automatically squeezing his clothed cock. "Tsk tsk tsk, naughty girl," he chuckled when he felt you slowly stroking and squeezing him through his pants. "Is this why you've been avoiding me? Because you know you couldn't keep your hands off me if you got the chance to?" he teased. You blushed and pouted, "Don't tease me, it's not funny," you whined. Seeing you like that made Seonghwa coo and leaned down to softly press his lips to you. "Don't worry, baby, I understand because that was always my strategy too," he confessed.

Before you could react, he had pulled you flush against him and his hands immediately went into position; one cupping the back of your head and the other holding one of your legs up so your crotches were touching. You couldn't help but moan into his mouth and began grinding onto him. Seonghwa felt how much you wanted him and he groaned into your mouth. The vibration shot down to your pussy and at that point, you just couldn't take it anymore.

You pushed away from Seonghwa slightly, confusing him. But a smirk grew on his face as he saw you slowly undressing in front of him. You didn't even care that the floor was wet and that it was soaking your clean clothes, you wanted him. One by one, each article of your clothing dropped to the floor and once you stood buck ass naked, Seonghwa immediately followed suit, taking his own shirt off and pants. But before he could pull unbutton his jeans, you dropped down to your knees and began unzipping his pants with your teeth. "Oh, you're dirty," he sighed out, voice slightly trembling from how horny he was.

Once his pants were on the floor, you were about to pull his briefs down but he tugged you up, "I really need to taste you," he breathed out and before you know it, your body had been pressed to the mirror with Seonghwa occupying the space between your legs. He lifted one of your legs up his shoulder and let out a shaky breath at the sight of your pussy in front of him. "It looks even better up close," you gasped when he started slapping your pussy a couple times. When you looked down, he was staring at your reaction with a smug grin on his face. He didn't say anything else but you could sense him getting the satisfaction he needed from the way your body jolted when he slapped your pussy or your thigh, how it squirms when the parted the lips to toy with the slickness there. "Seonghwa," you whimpered out, the sound of your voice was a little above a whisper but that was all you could muster, "Hmm?" Seonghwa replied as he began peppering kisses on your thighs. "Don't tease," you managed to choke out. He chuckled at your desperation, the vibration from his voice shooting straight at your pussy and by god, you think you could've cum just from his voice.

Thankfully, he moved to lick a fat stripe from your entrance to your clit in an antagonizingly slow pace. You've seen his tongue darting out like a snake and by god you never could have imagined that it'd feel so good. Your eyes rolled back and your head fell back to the wall, chest arched in pleasure. As Seonghwa began eating you out to his heart's content, he peered up to look at you and the sight of you in a state of bliss made his cock twitch. A moan left his mouth and the vibration shot through you to the point that your legs trembled. Seonghwa had to repositioned his hands as to not let you fall.

"Seonghwa, Seonghwa, Seonghwa," you called out, it was as if you were possessed and your mind cleared of any other words other than his name. The way you called him only proved to stir him up even more. What was slow, ravishing licks turned to hungry possessive slurps, it was as if he was trying to leave his mark on you and making a point of letting you know your puaay is his. The obnoxious wet sound of him completely devouring your pussy made you clench around nothing.

Just as you were a whiny, moaning mess, Seonghwa too was affected. Unbeknownst to you, he had pulled his cock out of his boxers and slowly stroked himself. He used his precum to lubricate his movements. His own eyes rolled back at the pleasure of tasting you and the stimulation given to his dick and the more he pleasured himself, the more he craved for you.

Seonghwa abruptly detached himself from you, making you whimper in protest. As he came back up to tower over you, you automatically wrapped a leg around his waist and your arms around his neck, seeking his touch. His exposed cock made contact with your pussy, wet from your own juice and his spit and the feeling when he made contact with you was beyond any words in existence. You began grinding onto his cock, begging for him. "Why'd you stop?" you whined, your eyes glossy with tears of frustration that began to gather and cheeks flushed from pleasure. Seeing you in that state made Seonghwa smirk in arrogance, pleased that he was able to put you in such a state. His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, maybe in hunger from seeing you or to taste the remnants of you left on his lips. With the appearance of his tongue, he pressed his stiff cock on you more. The heaviness of it and the pulsing tip bumping and brushing deliciously against your clit, making your breath hitch and head thrown back. He took that as a sign to dove down and mark your neck with his mouth. Teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, the sound of you so pathetically affected by him only spur him as he growled and the vibration shot from your skin down to your core. You were sure that you were leaking an embarrassing amount down there. But you couldn't care less.

"I need to be inside you," Seonghwa panted, his tongue dragging upwards from your neck to your earlobe where he let his teeth nibble on, "I need to fill you up with me," he begged, voice raspy.

Your pussy throbbed with each drag of his cock. The tip was inching slowly down to your hole at a deliberately slow pace. You hated how he was taking his damn sweet time but the torture felt so good.

Just as he was about to slip his cock in, chatters were heard from outside. Voices grew louder and louder towards the bathroom and before you know it, the front door was slammed open and in came a group of giggling girls. Seonghwa pulled you to the furthest bath stall, only closing the door slightly due to being hurried. He trapped you between his arms, back pressed on the wall as he panted over you.

"...Yeah, and I heard they weren't even trying to be discreet!" one of the girls laughed.

Both your and Seonghwa's eyes widened at that. Had you both been caught by other people?

"Please, San was asking to get caught,"

You recognized the voices as the group of girls who gossip and tattle just to cause drama as soon as your brain can work. It was hard to think straight with Seonghwa's heaving chest right in front of your face and his dick brushing against your hip.

"It was crazy that you reported him to Seonghwa though. If San ever finds out, he'll go ballistic,"

"Oh please, what can he do? He might look like a constipated cat but he's all claws no bite,"

It began to seem like they were never leaving and you couldn't ignore the fact that you're really needy. And that Seonghwa's penis is RIGHT THERE. Plus, you kinda hate the fact that Seonghwa was focusing on those girls instead of you. He might just be worried that he'll get caught, but the horniness in your brain disregarded that fact and choose to do something that can get his attention back to you.

Seonghwa's eyes widened and his head snapped to you when he felt you touching his dick. "Hwa..." you whined, batting your eyelashes at him. "Are you crazy?" he hissed lowly, "There are still people out there! They could catch us if we're too risky," he scolded. But you couldn't care less. You wrapped a leg around his hips and began grinding your naked pussy onto his dick, coating it with your arousal as you wrap your arms around his neck, lips peppering kisses all over his jawline, neck, and cheek. "(y/n)..." he warned but you could tell that his resolve was slowly breaking. You ignored him and kept grinding and kissing him, even moaning out whilst nibbling on his bottom lip to egg him further.

Suddenly the voices of the people outside fade away. Although, it could be because his mind is now fully clouded with lust, focus completely distracted with your naked body pressing onto his own. He could feel how warm your cunt is and he really wanted to know how you'd feel with him stuffing you completely full. "(y/n), you're killing me," he groaned, grabbing onto your shoulder to stop you. But his grip wasn't that strong that it would actually prevent you from moving. "Then do something about it," you smirked against his lips.

That seemed to push him just enough as he suddenly pushed you off of him. Your eyes widened and you thought you did something to piss him off. But he flipped you over, forcing you to brace yourself on the wall as he grip your hips tightly. Before you could say anything, he had spread your legs open and shoved himself in you in one swift thrust. Your body lunged forward from the sudden impact as you let out a yelp. Seonghwa clicked his tongue in disapproval at the yelp you let out and spanked you harshly on the ass. "You be quiet, we're still in a public area so we can't be too loud or else people can hear us," he said as he began thrusting slowly. Despite his warning, you couldn't help but whimper and moaned at the feeling of him stretching you out to accommodate his size. Seonghwa watched you with a satisfied smirk etched on his lips, taking pleasure in not only feeling how tight you were gripping him but also from your reaction, tics and twitches each time he moves, the sounds you make, and the way your back arched. He snickered and chuckled to himself, "But you might like that, huh? Do you like the idea of someone catching us like this? You whimpering and begging for me like a needy bitch while I have my ways with you," he then snaked a hand to your throat and pulled you back so your back hit his chest, "You're a needy, unsatisfiable whore, aren't you? Is that why you were touching yourself, moaning my name in the shower?"

Your eyes widened and immediately you snapped your head to look at him. Your shocked face was met with his cocky, smirking one. "Oh yeah, I heard you. I heard you loud and clear," he then snapped his hips up harshly, making you roll your eyes back from the sudden pleasure. The pace of his hips picked up, "Were you hoping that I'd catch you?" then you felt the hand that was on your hips snaked down between your legs all the while still keeping a firm grip on you, "Because I did catch you in the act. And I almost went in there to punish you for being so reckless after flashing your pussy in the hallway like that. But I thought I should give you the courtesy of finishing first," as he finished his sentence, he delivered a sharp smack directly on your clit. The impact made you gasp and squirm in his tight grip, "S-Seong- Seonghwa," you called out. You felt his lips kissing from the back of your ear down to your neck and back up again.

"You've had your fun, now is my turn,"

That was all the warning you got before he started slamming his cock in and out of you at a rapid pace. Seonghwa's grip on you was so tight that you couldn't even anchor yourself on the wall, it even felt possessive. So you opted to let your hands hold onto Seonghwa's instead; one on his hand that was around your throat as your other on his other one that was on your hips. Seonghwa chuckled at the realization of your attempt to anchor yourself, his lips were pressing onto your skin and the vibration from his voice made you shudder. Your position felt intimate and Seonghwa liking the way you reacted to him made you feel confident. His thrusts never slowed, and his pace was constant and powerful. "Do you feel good?" he teased, knowing just how good you were feeling from the way your body reacted but he wanted to hear it from you. He wanted verbal confirmation that he was making you feel so good. Your back arched and the movement made your hips shift a little just in time for Seonghwa to hit a new spot that made you see stars. "O- oh fuck, shit!" you yelped. Seonghwa's eyes darkened and his dick twitched inside you almost immediately. His grips shifted to secure your position and if you think his thrusts were fast before, his new pace was animalistic.

He pounded into you as if he was releasing all his anger and frustration at you. You couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at the new pleasure he was bringing you, it was almost painful but you didn't want it to stop. "Se- Seonghwa-" you called out as your knees began buckling down. Hearing you, Seonghwa slipped out of you and let go of his grip. You turned around and whined in protest at him, you didn't want the pleasure to stop. He chuckled at your neediness and reached to cup your face, "Don't worry, I'm not stopping. I'm just repositioning so you won't fall." His voice was kind and soft, a stark contrast to the things that he was doing to you before. "Still, you could've warned me," you pouted, making him chuckle and lean down to peck your lips.

It didn't take long for him to press you onto the wall with his own body. He had your left leg as high as it could around his waist to open you up to him as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. The new position allowed you to feel his whole hard length resting on your stomach as it rubbed against your core. You whimpered as your head fell back onto the wall, exposing your throat to Seonghwa. Seonghwa bit his bottom lip as he saw how you react to the feeling of his cock on your skin alone. "God, you're gonna make me burst," he groaned out, diving down to nip at your exposed skin.

"Seonghwa please, please, please, please I need your cock in me right now," you begged him as your hips ground with his. Thankfully, Seonghwa seemed to share the same urgency with you as he shoved himself back into you. "You felt me once and now you can't get enough of me, huh? Greedy," he teased as he began a slow pace with you. You shook your head at him, "No, more, Seonghwa! More! I want more, I need more!" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at you and shook his head, "Your wish is my command," he simply said before returning to the previous animalistic pace he had. You were glad he changed positions because in this position, he was able to reach deeper. By now, you were a moaning mess and even with your mouth biting down on Seonghwa's shoulder, your moans were still very loud.

Despite you being loud, Seonghwa couldn't seem to care. At that moment, he was chasing his high and he was getting close. The way your walls hugged him so snugly and the way your mouth kept softly chanting out his name was turning his brain to mush. "S- shit (y/n) I'm close," Seonghwa grunted. You nodded quickly as you pulled back to look at him, "Me too, God- I- I- Seonghwa," your bottom lip quivered from the pleasure. Seonghwa captured your lips with him in a steamy kiss as he continued pleasuring you and him. His hard cock rubbed your insides so deliciously while Seonghwa's hips allowed some friction on your clit, stimulating you even more. You might not sleep around much but it was obvious that Seonghwa is the best there is. Seonghwa on the other hand felt like he was about to burst at any second. Your core was dripping so much that it allowed him to move inside you with ease. He knew that this was wrong, fucking in the co-ed dorm, but he couldn't deny the thrill and excitement of doing it. Though he knew that his excitement was not just because of the notion of doing something wrong, but it was because he was doing it with you.

Seonghwa pulled away from your lips reluctantly to draw another breath. With foreheads rested against each other, he stared into your eyes. "I'm g-gonna cum, where-" he didn't even get to finish his sentence before you cut him off, "Inside me Seonghwa, please. Make me yours." Your words made Seonghwa's cock twitch. He had never felt more aroused by anything other than you telling him to claim you as his. Your words affected him so much that he couldn't even warn you before spilling his cum inside, painting your walls white. The warmth of him filling you made you moan loudly as it triggered your own release. Your thighs shook and your left leg tightened around Seonghwa's hips.

Seonghwa watched you come down from your high slowly with chest heaving and eyes glazing. His fingers carded through your hair, comforting you as you calm down. You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtful gesture. You might not know if he used you just because you're available and he just wanted a one-time thing with you, but he definitely knew how to treat a girl right.

"You okay?" he asked, concerned. You nodded at him as you pushed his hair back with your fingers, "I feel great, honestly." he chuckled at your words but nodded in understanding, "Great because I do too." You rolled your eyes playfully at him and pushed his shoulder slightly, "Now you're just copying me."

Before he could answer you though, someone coughed, making both of your eyes widen in horror. Neither of you remembered to lock or even pay attention to the stall's door.

"Are you hypocrites done?"

Seonghwa snapped his head back but didn't move his body to cover yours. He could only grin awkwardly at the man standing in front of the stall. "Hey San, what are you doing in the women's bath area?"

Suddenly, another head popped out from the sides, making you yelp and duck to hide in Seonghwa's arms.

"Well lookie here. I guessed you didn't accept my shower invitation because you already have a shower buddy, huh, (y/n)?" Wooyoung snickered.

Now, how the fuck are you going to deal with this?

taglist :

@rdiamond2727 @bobateastay @kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @forapollosol @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @jo-hwaberry @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @jcngh0-hq @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @cutie-wooyo @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @multihoe-net @kpoplover718 @imswitchbabemox @haatohwa @youngestdelacour

@seonghwarizon @chloepurpy

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unikron-kitten-kat · 2 years ago

Note

could we get some slenderman x male reader. i want to know about your take on him and the whole incubation process and how he can turn people into a slender aswell!! thank you ヾ(≧▽≦*)o

OH my Zalgo hai! of course you can!! XD

Sorry this took so long! I had to redo it all bcs I missread your ask xd, but here it is!!

Slenderman x male reader part two

Tws: Cannibalism mentioned; blood; tentacles; transformation[Slenderman turns reader into a slender]; Slenderman; knife and wounds

Dis is long :>

His Dearest

Søme øf Me, Øne of Us

It wasn't fair really. Your boss was so damn pretty. It didn't help he basically glowed in the moonlight.

While.. Sane and "normal" people would scream and run, or in the case of your.. Co-workers, be wary of your boss, you were drawn to him.

Something was pulling you in. His claws had sunk into the threads of your heart and yanked on them, throwing you against him, leaving you at his mercy.

He knew this too. He knew what he did to you. He took advantage of that, in small ways though. He had plans for you, and he didn't need them ruined.

The others saw.

The others noticed.

They noticed his... Blatant favouritism.

Toby was ticked off by this. Masky and Hoodie were so very pissed.

Nobody had ever outshone them in Slender's eyes. Ever. They were the ones he worked on the longest! Or so they thought.

They heard him talking about you to Zalgo. About how he had spent much longer on you than those three. When he apparently didn't even need to.

He had been with you for ages. Taking on the guise of an imaginary friend while you were young, then guiding you away from your home, your parents and 'friends', as Slender sneared the word, when things started drowning you.

It was hardly junior high when he finally got you to follow him away.

Still. No matter how hard and how long he supposedly worked on you, they hated it. They hated not being in the spotlight. Especially when it came to Slender.

You had to work so damn hard to be in Slender's favor, and being in his favor, you had so. Many. Advantages. So many!

And here you were, a complete and total outsider to them, obliviously stealing the spotlight.

The others started talking about you when you and Slender weren't around.

They called you his pet.

His toy. A baby-faced plaything.

Such harsh nicknames.

And they used to be mean. Until you started telling Slender about their behavior towards you. They stopped. Some of the weaker bullies turned tail when they saw you. They didn't think Slender would get that angry at them.

It was all fun and games after all!

The smarter ones did not engage in the bullying banter though. They knew what would happen. All they did was toss you the side eye when you came into the room.

Anywho.

To those in favor of Slenderman were gifted a huge bonus. A portion of his power to have, and grow more powerful with. This grew the power they were given, making them, and subsequently Slender, stronger.

You were just about to get this power. Lucky bastard.

He had guided you away from the Manor. Said he didn't want any interruptions.

He stood facing away from you. His back to you.

After a short moment, he turned back around, now holding something.

A squirming something.

A writhing something.

"Wh... What is that Boss?"

He hummed.

"This, [Name],, is what I use to.. Transfer a portion of my power to those select few I deem worthy of such a gift.. And... The only way they are able to absorb this is through 'eating' it... The only way they could absorb some of me.."

He knelt in front of you. Bringing the.. Slug of slime up to your face. It wasn't wiggling quite as aggressively as it was brought up to you. He couldn't help but inwardly chuckle at the dark blush now dusting your cheeks.

"Open."

You did.

It lunged down your throat. It squirmed its way down. You choked, gasped, wheezed as it wormed its way down. You had doubled over.

It dissolved into you. At least that's what it felt like. An overwhelming wave of.. Warm? And strength and just.. Raw power.

Your vision went black for a moment.

When you regained yourself, you were shaking. Slender was keeping you from falling to the ground. You deserved that much and more he thought.

You were gasping for the breath you lost when the slimy slug had invaded it.

Your head hurts. Your vision pulsed black. You hands are now really hurting. Your body jolted with a sudden wave of pain.

Then it was over.

Your hands were different. Your forearms were white, a webby skin fading over your own, fading to black at your finger tips where claws now ebbed a sickly green.

"Hmmm..."

Your attention was brought to Slender. He was circling you, observing what his essence changed in you. Your face hurt. You rubbed it. You groaned, your body was so sore now.

You felt.. Things on your back. You turned to look.

Huh.

Guess you have spidery tentacles now.

"Not... As drastic as some... Previous hosts. But intriguing none the less."

You most certainly felt different. Completely. Sure you still had human skin, and you still had some of yourself, but certain parts of you had been altered.

"These... Altercations can be expanded apon... A cadaver.. For something more..."

He trailed off. Lost in thought almost. His voice was so alluring..

"No, not yet. I will give you time to rest and adjust to these changes before doing anything more drastic."

"Do... Does this always? Change others?" You had to ask.

"Not always. Sometimes their strengths weren't enough to build off of, or they just weren't compatible."

"Wh.. What happened if they weren't compatible?"

He sighed. It was a heavy sigh. As if he had regrets.

"They'd perish. Masky and Hoodie almost weren't compatible enough. They almost expired. Ah, well, nothing I can change about the compatibility..."

You looked back at your hands. The webby white skin was uneasy to look at.

"You however...", You looked back up to your Boss, "were very much compatible. I have never yet seen my raw magic modify a Proxie into a Slender cadaver yet..."

"Cadaver?"

"Yes. With your transformation you now have the ability to become one of us, [Name], a Slender yourself..."

He grabbed your arm and examined it closer.

"And by the looks of your skin and claws.... More particularly your skin, you have the potential to be an Arachnae of sorts. That breed of Slender is... Rather powerful. Definetly more magically potent than I could ever hope to be.."

He examined your hands to, the sickly green glow seeming to course through your veins.

"Why... Why is my arm glowing like that??"

He huffed a chuckle at the worry in your tone.

"Must just be the colour of your new magic, [Name]."

He held your hands like that for a moment. His touch was warm.. You couldn't keep looking at him. His attention was always something you craved.

"Well, with that done", he stood.. So tall, "let's head back to the Manor and get warmed back up, it is cold out here, no?"

.......

When you two did get back, he led you directly to his office. A few of the others saw you. Some did double takes. Others glared with envy.

He looked at something, a screen maybe.

"Of course..."

You saw.. A warbly image across a black sludgy smudge on the wall. Like a security camera, almost.

It was images of Toby and a couple other Proxies you saw, those couple trying to hold Toby back as he kicked through Slender's door. He seemed pissed from the looks of the 'camera', throwing his axes down on the floor, and kicking at it, then storming out the door, fuming.

"He was trying to.... Interrupt me..."

Slender's tone was dangerous.

"I will be... Having a talk with him after dinner tonight... In the meantime, I have some work to get done. [Name]? Could you stay in here with me? I'd appreciate the company.."

"Uh.. Sure."

Toby... Did not look well, let's just say, and he avoided you like the plague. He'd get a lot more twitchy if he was 'forced' into prolonged contact with you. A lot more... Scared.

Now it has been about a year since you recieved your new power and magic. As you trained with it, and unlocked new abilities in accordance to your gift, you felt it growing inside you. Probably what the others meant when they felt they were nothing but inccubators. But you?

You felt... Alive, to be honest. A lot more alive than you could have ever felt. Your magic, it ebbed and flowed inside you..

It made you feel so good!

Hunting down your assigned victims was so much fun now! With your new agility, flexibility, magic!?

Oh how badly, oh how disgutingly, horridly bad you now want to see the horror, the absolute terror on their faves when you were done with them!

How lively you feel! How fucking good you feel! How euphoric...

Though, it appeared to Slender, it was physically impossible for you to be driven made by this new influx of power.

And, to be honest, he felt you were ready for your.. Next stage. Soon.

With Slender, you noticed small things he did before were.. More. His touch would linger longer on your shoulder, he'd find ways, excuses, to touch you. To let his hands roam. You swear he purposefully traveled his hands down and up to grope your crotch and your pecs. Squeezed even.

He also seemed to be much more enthusiastic to be more one-on-one with you, often making the excuse of giving you a solo mission, just to be in the same room with you, alone.

He.. Smelled different too. Probably was your heightened senses, but he smelled different from what you remember before your gift was given.

He smelled heavily of the forest after a calming rain, he smelled of coffee, black coffee at that, he had a hint of copper behind him. There was one other smell you couldn't place, one of.. A raw somthing. Almost as if you could.. Smell his magic?

And sometimes he would smell very, very sweet. Sometimes it was overwhelming how strongly of sweet he smelled. He seemed a lot more.. Husky, dominating towards you only, and he was fidgety when he smelled like this too. His tones and what he'd do when he smelled like this made you weak in the knees.. And it made you hard. So hard.

He even sat you in his lap, or you'd wake up in his bed being spooned by him when you slumbered in yours first, or he'd have you behind or next to him in random scenarios.

You were falling helplessly for him even deeper than you had in the beginning.

You had just recently finished killing your most recent.. Target. Blood was decorating you. He watched you go feral over them. He watched you eat them.... It set. Him. Off. In a good way.

You stumbled out of the backdoor to the house, wiping off some of the blood on your face with your sleeve.

You gasped, jumping as you were grabbed by both shoulders.

It was just Slender.

One of his hands came up to slide over you cheek, holding it.

"So... Pretty..."

His voice was barely a whisper. You blushed deeply at the comment, your cheeks seeming to glow.

He held you like this for a while it seemed.

"Well.", he stood, "I think it is time now. Time for you to become one of us.. A Slender.."

You inhaled deeply.

"Really?"

"Yes, [Name]."

He had brought you back to the plave where he originally gifted you a portion of his power to grow stronger with.

"Hmph... You have.. Never disappointed me.. Never let me down.. Never... Disobeyed me... Never gave me trouble.."

He turned to you.

"The others... However..."

He trailed off, leading to a pause. He seemed fixed on something.

He closed the gap between you two.

"You have... Such big eyes..."

Your arms tightened at your sides.

"... Hm... Well, let's get on with it shall we?"

He had a hand folded behind its back, which was now revealed to hold a very intricately patterned knife. Ot looked cermonial almost, and it had a whispy magic floating around in its onyx coloured blade.

"My people craft these knives to help halflings such as yourself progress into the final stages of their transformation, lest their new blood rip their body apart from the inside..."

He crouched down, taking on of your arms in one of his four hands, using another hand to scrunch up your sleeve and his.

"The... Activation, I suppose, of the final stage to your transformation requires the blood of a Pureling, such as myself, spilling into a wound of the halfling..."

And with that, he cut a line into your and his wrists. He held his over yours, his dark inky blood trickling onto your wound, staining your grayish blend at the wrist darker.

It tooke a hot minute, but your body seemed to finally register what happened, because your wrist started burning. It hurt so bad. It had tears immediately blurring your vision, you doubling over as the excruciating sensation swam up your arm and through your body.

He held you to him though. His arms were wrapped around you as you painfully transformed. And you couldn't currently hear him over how painful your body was, the pain blackening your eyesight and closing of your hearing, but he was whispering hushed comforts into your ear.

It was thirty minutes of you sobbing into him, your body felt on fire inside and out as you swore your bones broke and snapped back into a different order, growing new ones, and new arms ripping out of your sides as your rib cage expanded to accomodate new internal and external additions.

When you finally came to, he was holding you, his lower hands stroking up and down your sides, and one was holding your head to his chest as he held you close to comfort you through your pain. You were still gasping painful, raspy, shakey breaths. Everything currently hurt. Everything, even your new additions.

You were apparently clutching his suit. You didn't want to let go.

You felt his blank mouth rest on your head. Like a kiss. You responded by curling up into him, and whimpering at how much it hurt to move.

"Oh, come here [Name], its alright.. Your done now.."

His voice was lulling, soothing, like he altered it with his magic. He pulled you in closer, wrapping his form around you, offering his warmth to help sooth your sore and achy body.

You two stayed like this for a while. He knew how much it hurt. One of his cousins is a halfling, product of a one-sided affair between their human mother and Slender father. He had watched his cousin writhe and scream. Nobody comforted him. Except him and his brothers. He thinks it was because nobody else knew how to help.

After your tears ran dry, he asked if you could stand with him. It took a bit, your legs wobbling excessively, but you managed.

Wow. You were almost as tall as him now. Your legs ached like they just went through a growth spurt, and they very much did.

You had to lean on him for support though.

You gasped, feeling a very strange but good sensation. You turned your head to look. His smooth, cold, inky, buggy tentacles were intertwining with your webby, whispy ones.

He guided you off him, holding your shoulders as he took in your new form.

You had markings. Black ones tracing along your webby skin, swirly and curvy, some wrapping around new curves to your body. Some faded to a gold colour at their tips, and all had your green magic flowing through them.

Your tentacles had curvy patterns with the same gold and magic wrapping around them.

And your eyes... Your eight eyes were bewitching to him, your sclera now a deep emerald, with gold swirling over it, merging into a shiny pupil that glittered in the moonlight.

You heard him inhale deeply.

"Wow...."

"S..sir?"

"Please, [Name], use my real name for once... Aiden."

"Eh...?"

"Fuck your gorgeous...."

You sharply inhaled at the realization you were now probably naked. You panicked a bit. What if your... Huh. Well.. Apparently Slender dicks don't just dangle. It looks like you have some sort of... Pouch thingy? You saw what looked like flaps keeping your genitals hidden from prying eyes anyway. What do they look like now? Do you have more than one dick? You didn't feel more than one dick... You did feel.. Very small tentacles in there though...

He chuckled at your panic though, holding you tighter.

Your eyes were bigger.

"Don't worry [Name].... Not like this is the first time I have seen you without clothes..."

You, gasped, and blushed, the colour completely covering your face as soon as yoi processed what he said, your hands tightening their grip on his arms. You turned your head.

He chuckled at you again.

"I think... This was a... Successful transformation.. What about you?"

He let go of you, looking you up and down again, realizing your legs came to an almost point, them ending in a hoof-like structure that wasn't its own thing, not like a horse or cow, but like a continuation of your leg. Though, he new what that type of leg was capable of, as his cousin Trenderman was a Satyr Slender, one that had traits of 'goats' and 'deer' from their world, and those animals had very thin legs that were full of sheer power. He saw 'goats' launch predators up to 30 feet away with a single kick.

"Hm.."

His hands came back up to rest at your hips and sides.

"I think we need to change up your wardrobe now, don't we?"

You stiffened in embarrassment, feeling his gaze rake up and down your new body.

You felt... Better. More powerful, most certainly, your senses were heightened again, and it hurt to have all of your eyes opened at once because each pair had a different mode of vision, one pair having infrared, etc.

"Your perfect...."

He whispered.

You shuddered at the complement.

Slender breathly chuckled.

"Oh, the others are going to be.... Very jealous of you.. Aren't they? Especially when they hear how I'll be treating you in a few months when you get used to this new body....."

The implications, and his low and husky tone had your entire body lighting up, with fires of embarrassment flaring through you.

Slender stepped closer to you, leaning down just enough to be able to bury his face into your neck. You inhaled sharply. Something weird pulsed where he had his mouth. It made you want to tilt your head and push you neck into his mouth.

You saw his back shake from a shudder passing through his body.

You heard tearing before his long, wide, wet, cold tongue licked over the pulsing spot. You gasped at the action, your body tensing, you pushing yourself into him, and burying your face into him.

He made a satisfied noise.

One of his hands came up to hold the side of your head, and he removed his face from your neck.

"You felt that? That feeling in your neck, [Name]?"

You nodded, making a humming sound.

"I see..."

Another hand held your chin.

His face was very close to yours.

His fingers rubbed over your hidden mandibles.

His other hands wrapped around your hips and waist, pulling your body as flush to his as he could get you.

The pale green that was now your blood made your cheeks glow with blush again, your eyes wider at the closeness.

He tilted his head.

And he kissed you.

The surprise of the kiss, the touch of your flat slates against each other, prompted your mouth to open, and he took that chance to slide his tongues into your mouth.

His tentacles wrapped around yours again, his hands moving to wrap around you as he hugged you to him.

You melted into him.

He tastes like wine. And black licorice. Maybe a hint of twizzler in there.

When he broke the kiss, a thick trail of saliva hung between your tongues, you taking a few deep breaths before he kissed you again.

His tongues wrapped around yours, yours now longer, you had about three maybe, but his were bigger, and more skilled, obviously.

His tongues went to the back of your throat, and explored your whole mouth, leaving no inch of it unexplored. even wrapped around the mandibles hidden in your mouth, which you found to be sensitive, the touch of his tongues wrapping around them made you moan into the kiss.

He pulled away for the last time, you holding onto him for support again, gasping deeply for breath.

"Tasty...."

"Gorgeous....."

He grabbed your chin, to make you look at him with your droopy eyes and open mouth desperately catching your breath.

"Mine..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If ya'll want a part two, let me know! :D

#creepypasta #slenderman #slenderverse #the operator #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x male reader #creepypasta x male!reader #creepypasta x malereader #slenderman x male!reader #slenderman x malereader #slenderman x male reader #slenderman x y/n #slenderman x reader #his dearest

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blackfangedreaper · 2 years ago

Text

PHOTOGENIC

Prompt: "Beach alliance party"

Pairing: Luffy x black!fem!info!Reader

Warnings: sexual content; dry humping, sex on the beach (literally) curse words, display of public affection (noone noticed though) and grammatical errors. Mdni.

Tag list: @closet-degenerate @luffyinlove @euphoficc @444katsuki @audreys-works @boa--hancock

The waves crashed onto the shore in a soft manner wetting the dry sand before going back once again. The clear skies and bright sun reflecting off the ocean to give it a bright blue tint. The strawhats-cough luffy cough- decided take a little break before sailing to the next destination; much to law's distain. He actually expected you to scold luffy but when he met your eyes you looked just as excited as luffy so he erased the idea off his mind.

After getting to the shore safely the strawhats and heart pirates bounded up on the beach donning they're swimsuits. Nami and robin decided a little sunbathing wouldn't hurt, sanji ran helping them in any way he could before setting up a cooking station for them but it all flew out of the window when luffy and co. rushed by, collecting everything deemed eatable as they ran past the stand. "CURSE YOU HEATHENS!" He fell to his knees crying as he apologised to nami and robin for being so careless.

Law seemed to be in the far side of the beach doing who knows what, he didn't seem to be alone though. Hmm? What about you? Well you found a shaded area to lay your beach chair. Luffy saw you and ran up to you, his face messy from earlier on. "Oh luffy! Your all messy." You scolded cleaning his face then him pushing him unto the beach chair and telling him to wait. "Don't move ok? I'll be right back!"

He whined watching you run towards and into sunny. "Oi luffy!! What are you doing? Come take a look at this!" He turned his attention toward ussop, penguin and a wheezing shachi, they were all holding their laugh as they patted down the mermaid tail they constructed on the sand. And if you shifted your eyes to the upper half you'd notice a sleeping zoro. Completely unaware that he was being casted as the little mermaid in this story.

"HAHAHA!!! Just what is that?!!" Luffy laughed falling off the chair and holding his stomach as he rolled around on the soft beach sand. "I know right!! Now come over here!! If we keep shouting he'll wake up!" Ussop said panicking. "Sorry i can't! Y/n said to stay put!" Luffy sulked turning to look at the ship and thankfully he saw you coming and boy was he stunned.

You had a on a red bra-top that flattered your breasts a whole lot, matching with some red bikini bottoms that accumulated your curves a little too well, this made your ass look round and plump- in short you were sexy as fuck. You had a light blue scarf wrapped around your waist flowing down to your thighs and brushing your calfs a bit. Your braids were taken out of its bun and fell down your back in a graceful manner, swaying with every step you took. "I'm sorry baby, did i take too long?"

"N-No- wait a minute, Yes!" Dazed for a second luffy snapped out of it and pointed towards your direction accusingly, his lips jutting out in a pout. "But honey, i only took two minutes. I was looking for the sunscreen, don't want you to get sun burnt like last time." You explained furrowing your eyebrows at his stutter in the beginning.

"Come on, I'll rub it on you." You insisted starting with his back first, you took off the scarf covering you and when you did luffy averted his eyes cause if he saw you, he would do unspeakable things to you right that instant and with no shame at all but whose to say he wouldn't do it later. You sat behind him and begun to apply the sunscreen. When you were done you stood up and walked to his front, he watched your hips sway as you walked past him, your hair brushing your butt as you did so.

You knelt down between his legs using your right hand to push him down the chair before straddling him properly. Your thighs side to side with his abdomen and your bum sitting comfortably on his thighs, that was until you felt his hands slither up your thighs to grasp your waist, pulling you forward so your ass could take rest on his crotch. You mewled feeling his light bulge, looking him straight in the eye you scolded him. "Not here luffy!"

"Awww why not?!" He pouted looking up at you with his puppy dog eyes, ugh you couldn't say no when he did that so you removed the black shades you kept on your head and placed it on luffy, shielding his eyes from your sight. "There, all better." You snickered feeling him tighten his hold on you. He's fingers digging into the fat of your thighs in frustration. He tried bucking up a little but you pressed your hands on his chest stopping him completely. "...Fine." He gave up sighing but his hands still remained on your thighs, closer to your bum this time.

"Good boy." You beamed sitting up straight, pouring the sunblocker solution into your hands and rubbing it on his body. Your body was slightly tilted forward as you worked up and down his chest without haste, making sure to leave no spot untouched. On the other hand it wasn't helping luffy's case as he watched your breasts bounce with every action you made. Fuck he would have thought you were out to tease him if not for the concentrated look on your face but he highly doubts that cause he was sure you could feel the tent growing in his swim shorts.

He was about to slip his hands into your panties to grasp your nyash ass raw but he was interrupted by ussop hollering at both you and him. "Oi! Y/n! Luffy! When your done let's have a sand castle competition! Not like you'd get 1st place that's my spot." Ussop said laughing smugly. "But it seems I'll cut you guys some slack, as a professional i can't be bothered with criticising your amateur sand castle." He puffed his chest not noticing his nose grew a little longer at his lie and false confidence.

"Yeah right!" You laughed not noticing luffy taking his left hand and returning it back briefly. Ussop turned to you startled. "Damn it! she figured me out!" He scampered away leaving a wheezing you. You turned your attention to luffy once again, looking back at him you were startled to see him looking right at you, Your sunglasses no longer covering his eyes but now rested on top his ebony locks. Now the shades were off you could see something glinting in his eyes and you felt like you knew what it was.

"Luffy?" You said tilting your head in question, your braids following your movements. Why was he looking at you like that, you weren't complaining but does he know what he's doing to you? "Why are you looking at me like that?"

His dark brown eyes where almost shielded by his lowered lids, his eyebrows at rest and his lips set in a straight and thin line. He eyed you up and down drinking your appearance for the nth time that day and damn... You seemed to look better with each and every glimpse.

"Stop that, it's turning me on." You leaned in almost hypnotised by his gaze. Didn't he know his burning gaze set every cell in your body alight. He must have known he had such an effect, if not he wouldn't be looking at you like that, like he was utterly in love and infatuated with you, like he wanted to do sinful things to you, like he wanted ravage you.

"Hmm, is it?" His voice taking a deeper turn than its usual light tone. His eyes switching between your beautiful (e/c) eyes and plump lips just begging to be kissed. Your hands trailed up and down his toned sun-kissed body before once again taking refuge on his chest as you leaned in closer to kiss him.

"Yeah..." You whispered, your eyes never leaving his. You were so close he could feel your breath lightly brushing against his lips. Your braids shielded you both from the outside world and just when the world seemed quieter your lips met, kissing with raw passion and lust, moaning at each others taste. Your tongues were intertwined and you didn't bother fighting for dominance, you knew luffy would always win.

"Mmph!" You whimpered into the kiss, feeling a smack land on your rear as he intensely made out with you. You felt so soft being pressed up against him, your palm flat against his chest and he could faintly feel your boobs through the space your parted hands left. Your back arched and butt slightly up allowing you to be comfortable and luffy to gain quick access to your behind.

Luffy cupped your ass and squeezed, gaining handfuls of your plump soft flesh as they spilled through the spaces of his fingers due to how much of a tight grip he had on you then processed to knead you cheeks together, packing as much fat as he could before squeezing and caressing to his desire. He spread his fingers wide, palming your ass then bringing you down to grind on him.

He bucked his hips, his clothed crotch rubbing against yours slowly and softly. You whimpered feeling your self get wet- dammit it hadn't been an hour yet but here was your bikini; soiled. Taking one hand off your bum he kneaded your breast, rolling the nipple that had made it's self know through your bra top. "Nngh!"

"Hmm..." You both broke apart and so did the thin string connecting your lips. You looked around to see if the coast was clear before you trailed your hands down to his shorts to pull his hard shaft out. Luffy's mouth part slightly to let out little whimpers from the pleasure he got from your strokes "ugh... Inside, i wanna go inside."

"Hmm? Now that's just rude honey, what the magic word?" You pouted rubbing circles round his pre-cum soaked head. "Nng! Please, please let me in y/n!" He begged pursing his lips at you. "Ok!" You beamed complying with his wishes. You sat on your knees shifting your soaked panties to the side as you rubbed his head up then down your slit before pushing his head past your clenching hole. "Oh!"

"So warm!" Luffy moaned at the feeling of your tight and wet insides while you threw your head back whimpering at his size, he wasn't even halfway in and you were already struggling. You swirled your middle and ring finger round your pearl in hopes to get you more wet as you continued to sink down on his cock. Too bad luffy didn't have that type of patience, he grabbed your waist. "What? Luffy! No-" and slammed you down, hard. "Hnngh- luffy!"

You froze, one hand on your clit and the other squeezing luffy's hand on your waist in shock. Your walls clenched at the sheer size of him almost bringing him a quick orgasm. He waited for you to adjust before grabbing your ass in a tight grip, pulling and pushing to make you grind down on him. "Y-Yes just like that y/n!"

His eyes halflidded, almost rolling back in pleasure when you started to bounce up and down on him. The cool shade the tree provided covered you both from prying eyes, the crashing waves doing the same to your moans and wails. You used his chest to stabilise yourself, your palm flat against his pecs as you rose up then down to grind against him, you repeated these steps careful not to go too high as to not separate from him.

The beach chair creaked at both your weights but still stayed stable taking both your masses like a boss. Your control was soon overtaken by luffy as he wrapped his digits round your thigh to lift you up a little, his veins and muscles becoming visible. Lifting you till his tip was almost out of you before slamming you back on him, thrusting upwards to meet you in the air.

"Oh Fuck! Luffy!" You wailed at his force. He laughed at your pleasure filled face, pistoning in and out of you like a hydraulic press. Pushing in and out of you at his desired pace loving how your head rolled back and how your throat forced a groan. "Faster baby! Please!" Running your palm up from the curve of your ass trailing to the dips of your waist and then the undercut of your bra top to grasp your breast, you massaged your boob before squeezing your nipple between your index and middle finger. "Oh!"

Luffy landed a smack on your ass before following your hand, trailing after the spots your hands traced on your body, rubbing your hand before slapping them off your breast. He lifted your bra-top up to tug and squeeze at your breast and nipples, watching them bounce to the rhythm of his thrusts. "Look how pretty they are."

He beckoned you closer, you obliged leaning down to captured his lips with yours before he trailed it down your jaw. He littered your skin with kisses and harsh sucks. You whimpered at the feeling before doing the same to the under side of his jaw. He groaned at the feeling of your hot tongue marking his skin.

Rubbing your butt he rocked you back and forth slowly on his dick as one of his hand found its way to your neck, pulling on your braids lightly to press his lips against yours. As your tongues chased after each other he began to move you faster chasing both your highs. His tongue leaving your mouth to trace your lips slowly, looking in your eyes as he scratched a particular itch in you. He landed a harsh slap on your butt watching you shudder and release a shallow breath. Your eyes rolled back in your skull due to your abrupt orgasm.

"Ouhh- fuckkk!" You whimpered your brows furrowing at the powerful orgasm that shook your body. Your pussy clenching tightly at its intensity and the still thrusting luffy. "L-Luffy! Wai- oh my!" Relentless he pounded into you his control snapping at how tight and wet you felt. You then bit his earlobe dragging it slightly before grazing the thin skin behind it with your teeth. Suddenly you felt him shiver, his grip on your ass tightening as he rocked you forward one last time before pumping his heavy load into you, his balls straining against his shorts as it emptied itself.

"Oh fuck!" He growled, panting in exhaustion and at the strain of his release. Feeling him pat your bum you took it as sign to sit up. You raised your hips letting luffy slide out of you and unto his belly, you sighed in relief before you jolted, feeling luffy palm your womanhood. You looked at him in question before you felt it, his cum sliding down your walls looking for the escape route due to how full you were.

Before you know it luffy shoves his middle and ring finger up your slot, spreading his essense on your walls massaging them in deeper. You gasped feeling his fingers come out to coat your slit in his cum before shoving them back in. After spreading his essence within you he pulled out, his fingers dripping with both his and your cum. You stuck your tongue out welcoming the taste of both his and your mixture on your tongue. You hummed licking his fingers clean the releasing them with a 'pop'.

You sat up straight on him, tucking his dick back into his shorts and fixing yourself. A smile formed on your lips as you brought out your camera. "That was fun! Wanna take a picture?" You laughed the sexual tension dissipating in the air as you said that.

"Hell yeah! Is it one of your post card thingies?" He tilted his head in question. You nodded thinking of what pose you could do. Then suddenly. "Ahah!". You lifted the camera up leaning forward with your back arched. Your right hand laid flat against luffy's abs, your braids framing your face as your lips took on a teasing smile. You took the picture and brought the camera to see the result and it was pretty good.

It showed you in your full glory; your red bikini set brought out your brown skin, little sun beams breaking through the tree shade highlighted you making your skin look a beautiful golden brown, the hickey on your neck showing clearly. Your butt your pushed out, bringing your curves out more, your thighs fitting snuggly against luffy's side with your palm laid flat upon his built abdomen.

To be honest you knew people would be more interested on who you were straddling. The picture only showed his delicious abs and you made sure not to get his scar in the picture, only from his abdominal region down to the hem of his red swimming shorts, so it was all good, it'll keep the fishes wanting more and that's exactly what you were going for.

"Haha! What's with the sinister smile." Luffy laughed sitting up to take a look at the picture before smiling in satisfaction before looking up to address you. "You look beautiful."

Your face heated up beaming as you squealed, glomping him, your soft mounds pressing against him and putting him in a bashful state. "Your so cute i could die!"

"Haha! Your so weird y/n, don't go dying on me though!" You pulled away looking at sweatdropping before commenting dryly."Funny coming from you."

"Shishishi! I don't know what your talking about! Come on let's go change then pester tra-guy to build a sand castle with us! He's such a grump." Luffy said wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying you by your ass then standing up abruptly causing you to bounce a little. He then took off to sunny with you in toll quite excited to disturb an unsuspecting law who was already dealing with his own... problems.

#monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #one piece x reader #mugiwara no luffy #luffy x y/n #hawt #fem reader #luffy x black reader #one piece #luffy smut #one piece fanfiction #informant series

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blueintime · 2 months ago

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Abigail still hasn’t stopped crying.

Jack still hasn’t shed a tear.

And when John looks out the window, there are two figures he hasn’t seen in years.

—————

Abigail still hasn’t stopped crying

Jack still hasn’t shed a tear.

It had taken them the better of two hours to bury him and Uncle. And ever since then, they had remained in the sitting room as the sky turned dark and streaked through with scarlet.

Abigail had quit her sobbing a long while ago, but a tear could not stop slipping down her cheek every few minutes, even as she sat simply and stared distantly at the floorboards.

And Jack…

Tears shone often enough in his eyes, but stubbornly, they would not fall. All the more stubborn was the anger etched hot in his boy’s face, furrowed lines darkening it to a place not even shadows could cause.

John knew that look well. Had felt it burn in his own soul many a time. Seen it burn within one too many strangers too.

Nothing was forgotten, and nothing was forgiven.

He hoped it would fade. Prayed to whatever god there could be that Jack would leave it behind. If he could just be there he could…

But he wasn’t. And never could be now.

John stroked a hand again over his son’s hair, pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple, and tried his best to swallow his own bitter anger.

It took another long, horrible hour to pass before they retired to bed.

John had stood to follow the both of them, until a flame caught his eye from a window.

Alarm flared hot in his chest, and he stumbled to the glass. Surely they couldn’t have returned - surely killing him was enough -

John slammed his face to the window, and his alarm was doused by ice.

Two figures, dressed in their familiar blue, sat around a crackling campfire.

Something in his chest skipped hard. He slipped away from the window.

Arthur and Hosea looked up as John stepped out onto the porch floor. For a moment, there was silence.

Then Hosea smiled sadly, while Arthur looked on somberly, and gestured to an empty log that laid between them.

“Hello, John,” Hosea said, his voice a surprise to hear after so many years forgotten. “Come sit?”

Somehow, John numbly did.

When he was safe on the porch, he wanted nothing more than to stare. But now that he was close, with his brother on one side and his father on the other, he could only bear to stare at the fire, twisting at his fingers till they popped.

Arthur sighed, and Hosea said quietly, “Oh, John.”

A pressure suddenly grasped at his elbow, and John flinched away. Immediately Hosea released him, but John snatched his hand before he could withdraw completely.

Oh. John thought. Oh.

Hosea’s hand was solid, real, in John’s own.

“You’re here?” John managed to rasp through a tightening throat, “This is real?”

“We’re here,” Hosea replied, “This is real.”

“Alright,” John said simply. Then he bowed his head, and dark spots appeared in the dirt above his feet.

A shuffle sounded to his left, then warmth pressed against his entire side, another hand clasping at his shoulder.

“We never went far,” Arthur said gruffly.

John wheezed at that. Maybe sobbed.

“Oh yeah?” John snapped. Cried. “‘Cause I sure haven’t fucking seen you around nowhere.”

Hosea slipped his hand out of John’s grasp, then he too was pressed into John’s other side. John dropped his head onto the man’s shoulder, gritted his teeth sharp and hard to force his tears back.

“I’m sorry, John,” Hosea murmured, his own voice sounding thick and rough. A hand carded through his hair, and John could only cry anyway. “You did well, my boy. Damn well.”

“I killed them,” John said hoarsely, and for a second, he was back there, with the bodies dead before him. “I killed them.”

Bill and Javier and…

“You didn’t. We saw.”

“He…” John cleared his throat. “Where’s…?”

“Somewhere,” Arthur sighed, “Neither of us have spoken to him yet. You could, if you want.”

John said nothing. He let himself rest a few minutes longer on Hosea’s shoulder, let his tears run their course, before straightening up. He rubbed at his face, and was only a little surprised to feel scars under his fingers.

“You ready?”

John bit his tongue, shook his head firm and tight. “I ain’t gonna leave them.”

“Don’t got to.” Arthur patted at his shoulder. “We didn’t for you and them and everyone else either. There’s just some other folks who’d like to see you.”

“Like a certain little girl.” Hosea said.

John tried to breathe. “Oh.” He said again.

“Oh,” Arthur said back, not unkindly. He pulled John up with him, and Hosea stood too. “C’mon. We ain’t going far. And not for long.”

John inhaled. Exhaled. Stared hard at the home he had built, the family still left behind inside.

Then he turned, and just for a little while, the night was left dead with the living.

#red dead redemption #rdr1 #rdr2 #john marston #hosea matthews #arthur morgan #my fic #unpictured is john hugging his daughter with all the force in the world #rdr

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agent-barnes40 · 11 months ago

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The Master

The Doctor & GN!Reader (Platonic)

Dhawan!Master x GN!Reader (Romantic)

60th Special "Wild Blue Yonder" and "The Giggle" spoilers, not Canon compliant, uncanon events happen. READER IS GN BUT AFAB (They will wear a Dress in this fic) READER ALSO HAS A GUN THROUGHOUT MOST OF THIS (Reader will not shoot, just hold it or put their hand on it)

Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Fluff, suggestive

2,352 Words. This is a long one guys

You leaned against the wall, keeping eye on Wilfred. Your hand was resting on your gun, making sure no-one even stepped close to the old man. "Mr. Mott, I suggest we head back to UNIT soon. It seems The Doctor and Donna aren't arriving today."

"Nonsense, we stay just like we did yesterday." The old man said, turning to face you in his wheelchair. You had a soft smile on your face and nodded. "Of course, sir. I do suggest we leave before the fighting gets even worse."

Wilfred opened his mouth to speak and was cut off by the groaning and wheezing of the TARDIS. "I hope she finally learnt how to lift that parking break." You mumbled under your breath, shaking your head when Wilford looked toward you.

Donna stepped out of the TARDIS first, sending a grateful smile your way before running over to Wilfred to hug him as The Doctor stuck his head out and his gaze focused on Wilfred before he focused on you. "Nice to see you again, Doc." Donna looked at you and The Doctor, before you slid your hand away from your gun, holding your hands up. The man stepped closer to you and wrapped a hand around your forearm, an old look filled his eyes as you smirked. "Doc, I'm not associated with him anymore. I'm trying to make up the wrongs he and I committed."

Donna cleared her throat as you pulled your arm out of the Doctor's grip. "What is going on here?"

"Spoilers, Mrs. Noble." You said, looking down toward Wilfred. "Lets get you all to UNIT to explain what's going on. Rose, Shaun, and Sylvia are all safe at your house, Mrs. Noble. I've had Wilfred with me ever since the world started going to hell."

"I'll do it, I'll show him what the spike does." You volunteered, already pulling the Zeedex off of your arm and handing it to Melanie, the older woman shaking her head softly but letting you go. You took a deep breath as you handed your gun to Kate. You could feel the anger already starting to build up as you turned to face The Doctor.

The man tilted his head, watching as you wrung your hands together before your gaze fell into a glare. "You're the reason I'm this way, you realize that right?"

"No.." The Doctor responded, leaning on the desk watching as your face scrunched up like Missy's. "You showed me the stars and then showed me the most magnificent woman in the galaxy and then you let her and me almost die! You didn't even care when I showed back up with The Master! You didn't even think to ask what happened when I ran into his arms instead of yours when the Kasaavin showed up on that airplane! It was all "Don't worry Yaz! I'll keep you all safe!" When the only one that showed me compassion was the man you locked up for seventy years!" You started to yell and march up to him.

"You took him away and never ever apologized. You don't care about us when we leave you! Donna gets that treatment because you knew her before he came back into your life! The rest of us get tossed away if we've even been touched by him." You raised your arm up to slap him and instinctively fought against the UNIT soldiers, your co-workers, pulling you back and sliding the metal Zeedex onto your arm and you just sat on the floor, taking deep breaths.

Melanie walked over and sat down next to you, rubbing your arm. She knew everything, and so did everyone else in the room. You didn't hide your association with The Master and your displeasure at being left behind by both The Master and The Doctor, much like other older companions. You didn't move to say any apologies as you helped Melanie stand before you, yourself stood up and you scanned the room. The Doctor just stared at you. "Did you mean all that?"

"No, of course not. Its just the spike, Doc. Don't worry about it." You walked over and rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly. "I don't blame you for everything."

You heard the music and you immediately whipped around, that old hope of The Master suddenly showing up burning back up to the surface. The Doctor grabbed your wrist and shook his head. "Do not engage with him, understood?"

"So it is him? The Master?" You asked, the music getting even louder and that's when you saw the man teleporting all over and you followed his movements. They had the same flair The Master had and you couldn't even stop yourself. "You know The Master!"

The man smiled and winked before jumping down the newly formed trapdoor in the floor and The Doctor took off, sprinting and sliding across the floor to swipe at the petals covering the floor while you followed. "He knows him! That's another regeneration of him, isn't he?"

"He is the Toymaker and you will not go anywhere near him, understood." The Doctor ordered and you barely listened when you looked up and saw The Toymaker waving and you sprinted out of the room, the doors opening and you pointed a finger at the man on the Galvantic Beam.

"What did you do to The Master?" You called out, anger spiking even with the Zeedex on your arm. The Toymaker grinned even more and tilted his head, showing the shining gold tooth and the way to many teeth in his mouth.

"You could say that." The Toymaker said, shaking his head softly when The Doctor and the rest of the team came running out and The Doctor was pulling you back.

The billion-years old Time-Lord sent a look toward you before strutting into the fight. Donna had an arm wrapped around yours, keeping you in place.

~ The Toymaker folded up and you barely even noticed the golden tooth falling to the ground as you fought against Kate and Donna. You had been given hope that any incarnation of The Master, even Missy, would show up after The Toymaker was defeated and as you realized the two Doctor's looking your way, you let yourself turn, pulling yourself from Kate and Donna's grips before heading back into the interior of the tower, hearing the screams of the ball-pit balls and seeing the rose petals all over the floor. You started to pull the Zeedex off and placed it at the ground in front of the Vlinx. "These were genius, Vlinx. Thank you."

The being lightly tilted its head down in a bow. "No need to thank me."

"If anyone asks, let them know I headed home. I'm tired." You left the building, quicker than you ever have in your life, wincing at the sight of the bodies on the ground. You didn't notice the man starting to walk behind you, humming Rasputin. When you heard the song you just shook your head and sped up your pace, noticing how the person behind you also sped up. You put your hand close to your gun, the spike should've been gone long enough now so you wouldn't get jumped but you always aired on the side of caution after running around with The Master. You turned down an alley, hand slowly wrapping around the handle of your gun and slipping it out. You whipped around when you heard the footsteps and stilled. There he was, all in his Rasputin costume and your hands shook. "I know you aren't the Master, so please... Please drop the act and costume."

"Oh Love, did you really think I'd abandon you this long?" The man spoke, his eyes staring into yours and you instinctively closed yours. He let out a chuckle and stepped even closer and pressed a hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing the skin as you finally opened your eyes.

"Say my name again." The Master ordered, his voice soft and smiled at the deep breath you had to take.

"Hello, Master. I missed you." You whispered out, your eyes scanning his face as you slid your Glock back into its holster and you slid the hand up and onto the ridiculous beard on his face.

"When we get to my flat, you are shaving that off. I hated it on you." You knew you had started to tear up as you stared at him and a smile broke out on your face.

"But you liked my kisses with this beard right?" The Master asked, stepping closer and you let out a laugh.

"Only this one." And with that out of your mouth, the two of you pressed together, lips pressing together.

The two of you should've known The Doctor was going to do a check up. The Master had shaved his Rasputin beard off and mainly stuck to the clothes he had stashed in your flat. The sound of the TARDIS made you look over and your mouth dropped at the man coming out wearing a kilt. "So how do I look?"

"You look amazing, Doc. What are you doing here?" You glanced toward the bathroom, where The Master currently was showering. "Wanted to check in on you. Last time we talked, you blamed me for a lot." He said, looking around the room as you crossed your arms.

"And that was The Spike, Doc. I didn't mean it, plus didn't you give this job to the other Doctor? Checkin in on us who are still here?" You said, hand rubbing the over sized button up you wore, nervous about him finding out that The Master was in the room over.

"I just ran into you, thought I'd check in on you myself." He said, his eyes trailing to the two bowls you had set out. "Who else is here?"

"What do you mean you just ran into me?" You asked, focusing on that instead of his question.

"I had to do stuff at UNIT, saw you there wearing a very familiar dress." The Doctor said, looking at you. His eyes hardening as you met his eyes.

You straightened up, raising a brow. "That's future me, Doc. Why are you asking me this?"

"Because you were with him." The Doctor said, an eyebrow raising in turn just as the bathroom door opened and you turned to the door, hoping The Master at least put boxers on.

The Master turned the corner and stilled at the sight of a TARDIS and the Doctor in your living room and he turned to face you. "Is he bothering you?"

"It's okay Master, he isn't bothering me. In fact, he was just telling me about how I'll be wearing your dresses in the future." Your hand gestured toward The Doctor as you started relax, you knew The Doctor had to start playing nice as soon as The Master had walked in.

The Doctor looked between you and the shirtless Master, his brain catching up very quick. "So you two are actually together."

"We've been together since the vault, Doctor." You and The Master practically said in unison, a grin on the both of your faces.

The Doctor crossed his arms and focused on you. "He tried to destroy Earth! He destroyed Gallifrey! He forced regenerated into me! He turned all of you into himself way back when he was Prime Minister!"

The Master started to puff up, his eyes hardening as you started to walk over. "All of us but you don't remember The Year That Never Was, I was there when he worked with The Daleks and his CyberMaster's I don't condone what he did, I don't forgive him for it, and I certainly do not let him forget what he did to you, or Yaz, or anyone. I stayed at his side, out of the fight because I knew you'd come around and blame me for everything like you used to do."

You had to take a deep breath as you stared down The Doctor, anger in your eyes. "I couldn't even say goodbye to him at any point, I didn't know if he was even alive because of you and Yaz! I had to sit and wait until Kate picked me up and assigned me to The Noble's and I sat and I listened to Wilfred as he praised you and everything you did!"

The Master knew what was bubbling up and grabbed at your waist, pulling you back, away from The Doctor. "Love, you need to calm down. You are going to regret what you are going to say."

You were so wound up that it took The Master grabbing your face and looking into your eyes, slowly hypnotizing you into calming down. The Doctor was watching with wide eyes as The Master led you to your shared bedroom and had you sit in there before coming back out.

You barely remember that day, screaming and yelling at The Doctor as you had The Master help lace up Missy's corset. His TARDIS had finally showed back up and you wanted to wear one of her dresses. The Master was staring you down through the mirror and you chuckled. "You can tear this off me when I get home. I need to help Donna with a project at UNIT. Do you wanna come with or do you wanna stay here with the cats?"

It took you months to convince him to get those cats, but you won that battle. He regularly took them to vet visits on planets with better pet healthcare than Earth, and the planets had better ways to treat illnesses.

You eventually got out your front door, with three babies (one a large Time-lord) at your side trying to convice you to stay. You didnt carry your gun much anymore as you were just a consultant now, on all things The Master. You barely noticed The Doctor watching you as you signed into UNIT and headed up to Donna's floor. You didnt notice as he shook his head before stepping into his TARDIS.

#Doctor Who Spoilers #Dhawan!Master x reader #60th anniversary spoilers #Cade's Writing for Doctor Who

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theesirenteller · 1 year ago

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❝Wait- we’re having a baby?❞

Valerio Montesinos Rojas x F!OC Lolitá

"Valerio, estoy embarazada."

I'm pregnant .

"What?!" The Diplomat Heir yelled out from across the indoor pool room. The vibrant reggaeton music blared from the speakers; causing a vibration rattle to the glass walls and windows. The fluffy-haired male only shot her an intoxicated smile before continuing to sway his hips and dance to the music. Valerio jumped around as the beat sped up.

Lolitá sighed and chewed at the side of her lip. Her pineapple juice trembled within the flute glass that she held onto tightly. The familiar sense of nausea crept up the back of her throat. The in-between of her toes grew sweaty like her armpits and neck. Her head began to throb as her eyes grew blurry. Oh, how she wished she wasn't a coward. Lolitá had been with Valerio for over six months now and with both of their track records regarding relationships, that was the closest to serious either of them had ever gotten. She loved him. She loved him more than she ever thought she loved anyone, even herself. He was truly one of a kind. Not just as a lover but just as a person in general. So wild at heart, so upbeat, and felt his emotions deeply, embraced every and any emotion he felt. And Lolita didn't want to lose him. Or be the cause of breaking his sobriety.

The pair had met at an overpriced Rehab facility in Italy. He made the once dreary place turn to sunshine. They'd recovered from their addictions and as a result of that became addicted to each other. Valerio took her everywhere with him. Now that he managed Carla's winery, he was busy quite a lot. "Co- dependants" was what Lolitá's psychiatrist called them. The shrink was shortly fired after that. Lolitá lived in a blissful delusion when it came to her relationship. As long as they weren't cheating on one another or doing drugs…then they were perfect.

"Fuck." she cursed to herself and just as she was about to get from her seat, Lolitá was tackled onto her back by Valerio. "¡Idiota! You're gonna suffocate me!" she wheezed as he smothered her with kisses.

Valerio could be the living embodiment of the phrase 'Golden Retriever Boyfriend'. He couldn't keep his hands off of her. His palms gripped her breasts as he kissed her neck. His long fingers tugged at the skimpy strings of her bikini top as he playfully bit at her ear, "Aw mí flor no seas así." my flower don't be like that.

He then cupped her face in his hands as he placed a kiss on her forehead " Why so tense baby?" he asked with a thick accent.

This was it. It was now or never.

"Because…" she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, "I'm pregnant."

"Wait, so…we're having a baby? Un chiquito Valerio y Lolitá?" His questioning tone slowly turned to one that was filled with excitement. " Por favor, open your eyes, Litá." Valerio laughed.

And so she did. "You aren't upset?"

"Upset? No! This is amazing. Una regalo de Dios." it's a gift from god." He smiled. He then proceeded to place a soft kiss of reassurance to her lips. To which Lolitá kissed him with a passionate embrace. Her arms wrapping around his neck. Happiness vibrating off of the both of them.

Valerio pulled away for a moment to reveal to mischievous smirk. "We're gonna throw the biggest party to celebrate. Wait until Lu finds out she's going to be uná tiá."

#theesirenteller fanfic #theesirentellerstories #valerio montesinos #Valerio elite #elite netflix #Valerio montesinos x f!reader #Valerio montesinos x female oc #valerio elite fanfiction

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pawborough · 11 months ago

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Hey all!

First off, I want to disclose with full transparency that I’ve had a pretty severe case of “long Covid” for the better part of a month with a co-morbid case of bronchitis and a general throat infection. This put a lot of things out of whack and I do apologize. I got hit with the "tri-power beam."

Without getting into the weeds on details, I had three scary hospital visits and a bedbound holidays, which greatly impacted my ability to work with the team and did set us back. I’ve since mostly recovered, but I still have a nasty cough, a general wheeze, and cannot use my full voice. I believe this may unfortunately end up impacting my breathing for the rest of my life, but hey I'm still kicking!

Please stay safe, sanitary, and wear protection around other people.

Full disclosure! This also impacted my ability to address this earlier, and to give updates, but after recovering I took some time to speak with people and conduct research.

After speaking with experts, we’ve decided that our best course of action is to refund all previous raffle tickets and instead conduct the contest as a free sweepstakes!

There seemed to be conflicting information on our best steps forward, and at times we had experts who gave us conflicting advice or weren't certain, so we decided it was best to not base any further action on uncertain information.

What does that mean for you? If you previously purchased a ticket, you will be refunded within 24 hours. If anyone attempts to purchase tickets, they will immediately be refunded and given a note to the sweepstakes.

Overall, we do apologize for this flip which we are at fault for. My sickness in general made it more difficult to tend to these things earlier and I realize that is quite inconvenient. Thank you so much for your patience.

Onto the re-host!

Prizes

For 1st place, the winner will get everything included in the Design an Accessory tier! Valued $600 at time of purchase

This reward comes with all of the unlimited tiers available on our Kickstarter IN ADDITION to an Early Bird key! All of which includes the following:

X1 Early Bird beta key

X1 Beta key

X2 Luna Stones

X1 Beta (fauna)

X1 Phantowl (fauna)

X1 Toshi (fauna)

X1 Featherbeau (fauna)

X1 Kitsugi (fauna)

X1 Protogear (accessory)

X1 Creeping Thicket (accessory)

X1 Necromantic Cloak (accessory)

X1 Iridescent Trail (accessory) X1 Gilded Helm (accessory)

X1 Sacred Scepter (accessory)

X1 Electra Crest (profile decoration)

X1 Orchard Crest (profile decoration)

X1 Angelic Crest (profile decoration)

X1 Demonic Crest (profile decoration)

X1 Opalescent Fountains (backdrop)

X1 Onyx Composites (backdrop)

X1 Moonstone pool (decor)

X1 Obsidian Sentry (decor)

In addition, this reward provides the opportunity to design an accessory* which will be available onsite at launch! The winner will receive x10 copies of their accessory, as well as their name credited in the flavor text.

*As explained in our campaign: this is a collaboration with our art team, meaning the final design illustration will be at the discretion of our team, and revisions from the winner will be limited.

For 2nd place, the winner will receive a Monarch Bundle! Valued 80$ at time of purchase

This reward comes with all of the unlimited tiers available on our Kickstarter which includes the following:

X2 Beta keys

X2 Luna Stones

X1 Beta (fauna)

X1 Phantowl (fauna)

X1 Toshi (fauna)

X1 Featherbeau (fauna)

X1 Kitsugi (fauna)

X1 Protogear (accessory)

X1 Creeping Thicket (accessory)

X1 Necromantic Cloak (accessory)

X1 Iridescent Trail (accessory) X1 Gilded Helm (accessory)

X1 Sacred Scepter (accessory)

X1 Electra Crest (profile decoration)

X1 Orchard Crest (profile decoration)

X1 Angelic Crest (profile decoration)

X1 Demonic Crest (profile decoration)

X1 Opalescent Fountains (backdrop)

X1 Onyx Composites (backdrop)

X1 Moonstone pool (decor)

X1 Obsidian Sentry (decor)

Lastly, all who enter will receive x1 free Romanovtsa* as consolation for entry.

*Only x1 allotted per person regardless of ticket number.

The Romanovtsa is a common fauna which is not meant to give those who enter a significant advantage over those who don’t.

How to Enter

Fill out this Google form with the necessary information.

That’s it! No purchase necessary for entry!

This time around, users may only enter once per individual. You do not need to be a backer to enter.

To be transparent: Much like most anonymous events, we cannot stop you from proxying with a second email address for yourself, but we want to ask you to upkeep an honor system in fairness to other users.

Dates

The sweepstakes start today 01/09/24 and will end next month 02/09/24 at noon EST!

After which, all remaining attempts at entry will be considered null.

Good luck!

Can I Still Financially Support the Project?

We’ve gotten this question a few times, and for now simply donating to our PayPal and telling your friends about us is the best way to support. We’ll look into support bundles in the future!

Unrelated Check In

Lastly, I want to fill in on where we are with Longhairs!

Unfortunately, I got sick basically right before the final sprint to get them to the creator. Our goal now is to have them this month as we make up for the lost time, but once again I do apologize. It is frustrating beyond belief that this happened in the middle of work!

We’re doing our best to catch up now. I got put really out of commission and it's quite regrettable for a small team. But we're bouncing back!

This next official check in, we'll be discussing dedicated alpha and our plans for the year. Lots of exciting things as we go into this new year!

Thank you!

#kickstarter update

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willryist · 4 months ago

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☆ "You Murderous Bastard!" ☆

Pairing: William Afton/Henry Emily

Warnings: Violence (not entirely graphic), toxic relationships but also what's helliam without toxicity

AO3 Post

3,486 Words

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A/N — Sorry if this is absolute booty butt dogwater I haven't written a fic in more than a year. Don't judge too harshly please and thank you. I'm just a poor little victorian boy. Also editing the fic to fit Tumblr was so annoying this shit took me half an hour

The metallic scent of blood lingered in the air. Streetlights illuminate dark sky, their buzzing acting as white noise.

They'd been fighting for so long that neither could remember who took the first swing. Shoes scuffed on the asphalt beneath their feet, the pair thrashing violently within the nigh empty parking lot as if it were a most amorous dance. With such skin-to-skin contact, these romantics were closer than anticipated.

“You're a sick son of a bitch!” Henry bellowed with a swift punch to William's gut. It took considerable concentration to actually land it, his glasses gone long before this moment. Though he hadn't known where they landed, Henry was sure he'd be buying a new pair. Crimson stained his fists and philtrum like paint.

“Come on Henry! Don't you think this has been going on for far too long?” William wheezed. A poor attempt at composure evident, his chest heaving to retrieve lost air to his lungs. The ab muscles tensed and ached, promising a bruise for the future. “We can talk about this!” Brown hair stuck to the round and sweaty forehead of Afton in a similar fashion to how his clothes clung to his body.

William's attire represented nothing of his behavior now. Adorning a white dress shirt, purple vest with a star pattern, black dress pants, a bright yellow bow tie, and a goofy smile that while usually present, is missing in the moment. It was as if the charisma he emitted at every waking hour drained out of him. Or that it was a shell, hiding true intentions. Henry was beginning to believe the latter.

“You killed my daughter, Bill! We’re past talking, you murderous bastard! I should've known it was you.” Henry's strikes to the plump man were rapid—and sloppy. Energy withheld from the adrenaline rush fading, his arms shook as they lost strength. William found Henry’s faltering a perfect opportunity to dominate—in combat, of course. Afton rushes Henry, nails digging into skin as he grips his shoulders and slams him to the ground. Sat on Henry’s waist to keep him firm beneath him, Henry’s head thrashes onto the hard surface, causing his already aching head to throb with much more intensity.

William’s hand balls into a fist. His knuckles pummel into Henry’s face, skin stretching in reaction. “Don’t leave your child outside of the restaurant with the door locked, Henry! If it hadn’t been me, it would’ve been someone else.” His words were almost incomprehensible, a consistent ringing sound in Henry’s ears acting as a buffer. Even so, Henry could hear the taunting tone. “Are you to say it’s my fault for your own incompetence as a father? Your negligence?” His relentless beating slowed. He seemed to be expecting a response.

“I.. I didn’t notice she was locked out. Some- Some kids were playing a cruel joke...” There was no point in defending himself. Henry knew it had been his fault. Too occupied with his work for the safety of his own daughter. His nights were now spent wide awake, thinking of Charlotte. Of how things were before her death. He pushed himself deep into his work, hoping it would help him forget the tragedy his life had become. All it brought to him were memories. He longed for the days Charlotte and Sammy spent with him in his workshop, joyful sounds filling the room as he worked. He’d never get that back, and he would never get Charlotte back. All that was left was his creations. Fredbear’s.. and the man who stood before him. His business partner. co-founder, and perceived best friend. The man with his daughter’s blood on his hands.

There was no denying Henry’s fluttering feelings for William. Their closeness in private proved so. Flirtatious jokes whispered into one another’s ear too frequently to be only jokes. Sending his family home when the diner closed to “get some extra work done after-hours” with William. Now, Henry wanted nothing but an end to this man, if he could even call him that. He felt disgusted and ashamed in himself for letting someone so vile get so intimate with him, and getting anywhere near his precious daughter. His life.

When Charlotte’s body was found Henry had a strong gut feeling. The name flashed in his mind as he stared into his daughter’s lifeless eyes. William. He pleaded to whatever God was out there that this intuition was wrong, but it persisted in the back of his mind. Asking William if he had any knowledge of Charlotte’s death, he was met with “I would never do anything like that, Henry! You know I cared too much for the little bugger to lay a hand on her! I was her Uncle Will!” and other such phrases during Henry’s doubting moments. He found it suspicious that William’s first response was to defend his own innocence, but he decided to look past it. Bill couldn’t murder his own best friend’s child, right? That was where Henry had been wrong.

Earlier that night, as Henry locked the front doors to the diner, his eyes drifted to what had been on his mind all day. The alleyway. Charlotte’s place of death. Her limp body next to piles of garbage bags as if she were trash. The dull, soulless eyes that once brought so much light into Henry’s life. He was reliving the moment all over again.

Everything he’d bottled up inside for months gushed out of him. He was a jar with a never ending spill of emotions. Henry let out all of his unsaid frustrations and violent thoughts he’s held on himself and the wretched thing that dared to lay a hand on his daughter. He went on and on about the things he’d do to the killer. William stood with him, a hand on his shoulder.

The two were there for longer than either of them wanted. When Henry finally cried himself out, he looked up to William to thank him. Through his tears he saw the smile. It was the kind of mischievous smile you’d find on a kid who knew they had done something wrong. A smile of joyous guilt. This told Henry everything. Anger swelled him like a balloon, ready to pop. Pushing William’s hand off of him, he began to accuse and throw insults. The only thing to keep him from wailing was the red hot fury that engulfed him.

And now, he was here. Taking punches from a murderer. Was he to let William kill him, just as he let him kill his daughter? No. He wasn’t.

Henry puts his hands firm on William’s chest, effectively pushing him back enough to pull away. Taken aback from the sudden action, William is too slow to respond, giving Henry a chance to grab him by the neck. His fingers clenched with an unfound strength. Seeing William gasp and cough for air as he clawed at Henry’s hands fueled him to keep going, to keep squeezing harder and harder. The bluish hue in Afton’s face gave Henry the exact satisfaction he was looking for. A deserving death for a wicked man.

That was until Henry felt a harsh aching pain in his lower chest, and he was shoved backwards. The wind was knocked out of him, and as he tried to catch his breath, his blurry vision focused on William. Though he struggled to process what had happened, William’s raised foot and the dirty shoe-shaped print on Henry’s orange flannel told him what he needed to know.

As much as he wanted to charge at the other man, resume his strangling without any interruptions, and watch him fight in the same way he made his daughter, he couldn’t. His body was close to giving out. William seemed to be in the same state. The two men were laid on the asphalt, propping themselves up with shaky arms and staring at each other with nothing but malice for one another. A stalemate—for now. Henry was determined to see the life choked out of Afton.

William was first to move. Henry was satisfied with the red hand marks left on the other’s neck. He had been so close, and it was time to finish the job. As William approached, Henry’s target was the jugular. Unfortunately, William had suspected as such. He grabbed Henry’s wrists in their ascend to his throat and pinned them down.

Henry never intended on letting William get the upper hand so easily. His arm was able to wriggle its way from the other man's grasp and claw at his purple fuzzy vest, ripping a hole in the fabric. It'd be a comforting texture, if not for the situation. William, infuriated at the damage to his clothing, tried to pull Henry's hand away from the vest, letting go of his other wrist in the process. Henry sat up, effectively pushing the irritated Afton off of him, and readied to swing. William showed similar aggravated energy, fighting back almost immediately. Scratches, bruises, scuffs, and blood covered the two men, their bodies open canvases for the other to paint. Both strive for victory, no matter the consequence, or the casualty.

A battle for power commenced, their bodies tangled like the overgrown vines of a long abandoned castle. The two tumbled about on the ground, tugging and pulling and punching and kicking. Somewhere in between the rough beating, a pinky grazed a bulge, a touch was registered by the other as more tender than it actually was, and lips touched. Unceremonious, unexpected, and sweaty.

Henry fell into the kiss easily. It took him a minute to even process the state in which he was in. Wide eyes stare into William’s closed ones an inch away. His mind yelled at him to pull away from this . . . monster, but his body kept him close. As vile as Afton is, this kind of intimacy feeds the previously dwindling part of his brain that longs for him. For Henry, William is like an addiction. He thinks he can go without him until that rough hand gently rubs his thigh when nobody’s looking, or those loafers ride up Henry’s leg under a table. Once he’s given a taste, a burning in his heart craves more.

Right now he’s cursing that scorching desire. His disgust goes from not just William, but to himself. William Afton, responsible for the disappearance and death of his daughter, for his divorce that caused him to lose his other child, Sammy. William has ruined everything in his life, yet Henry still gives in. But who else did he have? Who was there? His work could not replace human connection, no matter how much he tried to distract himself with it, and even if that connection was coming from someone who Henry couldn’t exactly call human. The only person significant in his life left was the man who destroyed it.

Well, was he really sure Will was the one to do it? It was William’s day off, he wasn’t at the diner during Charlotte’s disappearance. He wouldn’t just drive to Fredbear’s to do that, would he? That smile earlier tonight could’ve meant nothing. Bill has always acted a bit strange, and he’s been one for theatrics ever since Henry knew him. That’s what it was. Nothing. Henry jumped to conclusions out of hurt and a need for justice. That’s all. . .

. . .Who was he kidding? His gut never led him astray, and it sure as hell hasn't this time. William had done it, no doubt about it, and Henry was just as repulsive as William for giving into selfish pining over his own daughter. If anything, he might be more sick in the head. I’m sorry Charlotte, I’m sorry Charlotte, I’m sorry Charlotte. I’m so, so sorry sweet cakes. I’m a terrible father. Please forgive me. . .

A tug of his hair brought Henry back to the scene. William’s hand rested on the back of Henry’s head. Henry’s legs were spread slightly, William’s fitting in between them. Please forgive me, he pleaded once more. His hands reached the other’s back, pulling him closer. Fingers gripped the tattered purple vest.

Gave into him so easily. . .I’m pathetic. A pathetic, horrible man. Charlotte would be horrified and- and. . .revolted. She’d hate me if she were to see me like this. I’m a failure of a father. William’s tongue snaked its way through Henry’s lips. Though an awful intrusion, lust overpowered reason. Barbed wire laced with aphrodisiac, Henry thought of it as.

William’s icy, pale hand drifted over the expanse of Henry’s torso to his shirt collar. Reaching the sweaty tanned skin, he caressed it and twirled Henry’s curly chest hair with his index finger. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, rang in Henry’s mind, and he swallowed with a face flushed red. You’re horrible. Sick. Disgusting.

Nausea deep within his stomach accompanied his carnality, the contrasting mix perplexing him beyond belief. He was unable to comprehend his need for William’s hands all over him and his need to see him dead, and how they were both able to co-exist.

A tug at his flannel’s second button told Henry this wasn’t the time for pondering.

Reopening his eyes, Henry sees just how bad of a number William did on him. Holes and scuffs on his attire were plentiful. The first thought that touched him at the sight was of his wife patching up his damaged clothes. Every patch hand-sewn onto his shirts and pants, each with different patterns. She always refused to use the same fabric on one piece of clothing. Her care for relatively trivial things was endearing to Henry. Her dedication to the craft—even for things as small as Henry’s work clothes—never failed to put a smile on his face. It wasn’t like he’d ever see that again, though. It was now just a memory. Another thing taken from him. He’d frown if it weren’t for the tongue down his throat.

William began plucking at the rest of the buttons. Henry’s lips quivered and fought laughter whenever William’s evident eagerness caused him to make a complete mess of his fingers as he attempted to undo the shirt. William had to break away from the kiss to concentrate. “Havin’ some trouble, Bill?” Henry sneered. “Need some help?”

William shot a glare at Henry before returning to the painstaking task at hand. As far as William was concerned, Henry needed another beating for such a sarcastic tone. Whatever. They were far past that now. Henry’s staring at William’s fumbling hands just worsened his horrible mood. With as level of a voice as William could manage, he said, “Must you stare?”

Henry hastily focused on the vast black of night behind William, and exhaled at the poorly hidden aggravation. Around others, William holds a constantly happy-go-lucky attitude. Nothing ever seems to bother him. However, when it’s just him and Henry, his temper is off the walls. Highly prone to anger, almost anything Henry does that doesn’t fit exactly what he wants when he wants it throws him into a rage. Henry recalled a few times where he disconcertingly watched as William lashed out on his children while visiting his house. Hell, William has lashed out on Henry more times than he could even remember.

William wasn’t always this way, at least from what Henry has seen in the years he’s known him. Before, Henry admired William’s ability to keep composure in any given situation. It was like William was born with the charisma of a talk-show host. With their shared love of robotics and long history together, Fredbear’s Family Diner seemed like the perfect business for the two to start. Beyond perfect, even.

However, the closer the two got, and the longer they spent together, William’s odd behavior became increasingly noticeable to Henry. Henry excused it as the stress that came with running a business, as he’d taken on quite a bit of it himself.

Come to think of it, Henry excused a lot of William’s strange behaviors. Well- everyone has flaws, right? Lord knows Henry has them.

Palms run down Henry’s arms. He shudders involuntarily. Cold.

Blinking his way back into the present, Henry eyes his shirt that was now on the ground and William so close his head might as well be resting on his chest. He got it off already? Huh.

Henry often found himself in and out of the depths of his own mind no matter what occupied him. This situation was no different. Others—especially his wife—were frustrated with how oblivious he was with the world around him because of it. It wasn’t as if he could help it, of course. Whenever he was in that state it was like a personal appointment with his brain. Maybe a therapy session? However he wanted to think of it at the time. Right now he was sure it felt like a long, long therapy session with himself.

However it felt like, he was doing it again. Bringing himself out of such a state while actively in it felt like trudging through quicksand.

The first thing that came to mind to retrieve him from sinking was how freezing he was. It was only sixty degrees, but being shirtless in this kind of weather made it feel thirty degrees lower. “I don’t think I wanna be naked in a parking lot, Bill.”

William grunted indignantly, as if what Henry said was an absurd and unheard of request. ”Don’t you just love being difficult?”

“I’m not asking anything insane. It’s cold, and anybody could drive by. I’m sure at least five cars have come through. I don’t want the whole world to know of us.”

“You sure did all those times in the safe room, or in my office, or any of the unconventional public spaces we’ve been in. I’m surprised your wife didn’t divorce you sooner. I’m sure she’s found out by now.”

Henry could feel his skin sizzle. “You’re one to talk about divorcing wives. Your wife left you years ago.”

“I wouldn’t have given her the chance to catch me cheating on her with another man.”

“You got a hundred-and-ten other things that make you a shitty husband, I’m sure.”

William’s lips scrunched together in vexation. Henry was left satisfied by the silence, assuming it to mean he’s won their little “argument.” Henry wished for much more than winning a trivial dispute, but it’d have to wait. Plans for killing this asshole can be put on hold until they’ve finished their current business.

“Since you’re so insistent, fine.” William stood, albeit a bit wobbly. “Your truck has been lacking in action, I’m sure.” He smiled, amused at himself for simply being. “Is that satisfactory enough for you, Your Whininess?”

William was lucky Henry didn’t punch him square in the jaw. “Sure.” Smart-ass.

Henry grabbed his shirt as he got to his feet and brushed his jeans off with his free hand—as if that would do anything about the blood splattered and stained all over the denim. Wiping his forehead with the shirt, he realized just how much he’d been sweating. Henry’s forehead was completely slick, and so was the rest of his upper body. Turns out fighting your child-murdering best friend whom you have a homoerotic relationship with, then making out with said best friend in the middle of fighting, takes a toll on you. Who would’ve thought.

William closed the gap between the two men almost as soon as Henry stood. With his hands rested on Henry’s waist, his mouth intertwined with Henry’s. William began inching toward the truck, pushing Henry with him.

The two stumbled like drunken fools in their venture to the Chevrolet, stepping on each other’s feet and almost tripping over each other more than once. You wouldn’t want these two in a dance competition.

Henry slung his shirt on his shoulder and gripped William’s top vest button. Trying to balance kissing, undressing, and walking backwards might as well have been a circus clown’s juggling act, because it sure as hell felt like it to Henry. He accidentally broke a few buttons in the process. Oh well. If he can kill his best friend’s daughter, he can spare a button here and there.

Henry had just reached the second to last button on that God forsaken vest when he felt himself get slammed against something cold and hard. It felt like his truck. A pained wince escaped him, but it was easily drowned out by the plethora of other noises he and William were making.

With Henry’s sticky back pinned to the driver side door of his rusted 1978 Chevrolet C10, William’s fingers snuck to the carabiner attached to Henry’s belt loop, taking the pickup truck’s key and turning it in the key hole.

“You’re sick.” Henry snarled, though he didn’t fight the invasive hands that pushed him onto the truck’s bench seat.

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