#why the hell is that table so long fr

[anidealistatbestburntoutatworst]

is this mori slander,,, possibly?! but hey at least i put kouyou in a blurb

mori: “and you be careful madam or you’ll turn my pretty head with your flattery.”

kouyou*girlbossing*: “i’ve often wished i could turn your head…. on a spit over a slow fire.”

all the other silly ppl at that long ass table mori conducts his silly little plot altering, earth shattering unreasonably devious meetings: “oh?!!?”

[edenesth]

TWTHH Bonus: Star of the Show

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: In case you haven't already read Honeymoon Avenue (the first bonus chapter), it's probably better to check that out before reading this. Also, please be warned that this contains a slight spoiler to Wooyoung and Hongjoong's spinoffs.

Honeymoon Avenue | Fic Masterlist

"Your wife is with child."

The words echoed in the general's mind long after Yunho had uttered them. You remained unconscious in his room, undergoing a more thorough examination. Seonghwa had been asked to leave while you were attended to. He felt a wave of relief knowing that, according to the physician, your fainting spell was simply your body's way of compensating for the exhaustion caused by the demands of the little one growing inside you.

"Don't worry, everything will be okay."

"I'm counting on you, Yunho," he recalled telling the doctor before exiting his private quarters, his gaze lingering on your still, pale figure nestled under the covers.

"When have I ever let you down, my lord? She'll be fine, the baby will be fine; your family, they'll be just fine."

Realising there was no use lingering outside while the physician and his team of servants were busy examining you—his presence wouldn't change anything—he decided to occupy himself elsewhere while he waited. However, returning to his study seemed impossible; he knew he wouldn't be able to focus on anything else.

As if with a mind of its own, his feet carried him toward the House of Lotus. His heart warmed at the familiar sight of the pavilion facing the lotus pond, your favourite spot, once empty but now furnished with a small table, cosy cushioned seats, and decorative lanterns. It was a testament to the time you two spent together there. He could never tire of being there with you, and the mere thought of spending eternity like that was more than enough to fill his heart with joy.

Soon, it wouldn't just be us two.

Deciding not to sit alone without you, he opted to enter your quarters instead, where every corner held a piece of you. He softened as he opened the door and spotted your embroidery kit at the centre of the room. You had been deeply invested in the craft ever since Hongjoong had taught you a few techniques, dedicating nearly all your time to it when you weren't occupied with anything else. He remembered finding you diligently working on it late into the night and had to gently coax you to bed with him.

Approaching the items, he settled into your usual spot before going through the designs you had created. A chuckle escaped him as he took in some of your earlier, more clumsy works—clearly, these were from when you first began learning from the dressmaker. As he continued, a smile graced his lips at the gradual improvement in quality. It hinted at the possibility that you had discovered a hidden talent; his friend would surely be proud to see your progress.

However, his movements faltered as he reached the bottom of the pile and discovered what appeared to be a... baby shirt. Realisation dawned on him: had this been your secret project all along? Were you aware of your pregnancy all this time?

Questions flooded his mind, each one more pressing than the last. Why hadn't you told him? Why had you lied and pretended everything was fine when you must have been feeling so sick? Did you not trust him enough to confide in him?

His heart ached with the thought that you might have felt the need to hide something so important from him. It left him feeling a mix of confusion, hurt, and a tinge of betrayal. Had he not made it clear that he was there for you, no matter what?

As he sat there, staring at the tiny garment in his hands, he couldn't help but wonder what reasons you could have had for keeping this from him. His mind raced with possibilities, each one more heartbreaking than the last. He thought back to all the times you had been showing symptoms of pregnancy, and it hurt him to know you didn't feel safe enough to tell him the truth. Was it because you didn't think he would be a good father? What if, deep down, there was a part of you that was still afraid of him? What if—

Before his thoughts could further linger, a knock on the door snapped him out of his train of thought. Turning to see who it was, he allowed entry and found Eunsook standing there with a smile on her face, "The mistress is awake, master," she announced. With that, all his previous worries were momentarily swept from his mind. Only you mattered as he quickly rose from his seat and dashed towards his room to see you.

Rushing into the room, Seonghwa's heart raced as he laid eyes on you, sitting up on his bed with Yunho standing beside you. Relief flooded him as he saw you speaking softly with the physician, a gentle hand pressed against your stomach.

Oh thank god, she's alright... they're alright.

Moving closer, he couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for you. Despite the recent scare, you looked calm and serene, your presence soothing his worried mind. He approached quietly, not wanting to interrupt your conversation with Yunho but eager to be by your side.

As soon as your eyes met, he noticed the hint of moisture gathering in your gaze as you uttered his name, "Hwa..." His heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice, and he quickly moved forward, settling beside you on the bed. Gently, he grasped your hand, brushing strands of hair away from your face and stroking your cheek, "What's wrong, my love? Are you feeling alright?"

You nodded, leaning into his touch and motioning for Yunho to speak on your behalf. Taking a deep breath, the physician began, "Her condition is currently stable, my lord."

Seonghwa furrowed his brow in dread, "I'm sensing a 'but' there."

"But..." the doctor continued, "Due to years of severe malnutrition throughout the lady's childhood, her body lacks many essential nutrients necessary for both her and the baby. This explains her weakness. But fear not, I will do everything in my power to ensure her full recovery. Once we pass the three-month mark safely, the remainder of the pregnancy should proceed smoothly."

"I... I understand. Thank you again, Yunho, for your hard work. It seems we'll need your frequent visits for the next few months," the general acknowledged, offering a grateful nod to his friend.

"No problem, my lord and lady. I'll ensure Eunsook receives all the necessary information for the mistress' care. Please excuse me, I should get started on the preparations immediately."

Once Yunho had left and you were alone together, your husband turned his attention back to you. Squeezing your hand gently, he couldn't shake the image of the baby shirt from his mind. He knew he had to address it. Leaning closer, he pressed a kiss on your forehead before delicately broaching the subject, "I... I have a question."

You responded in a soft voice, returning the squeeze of his hand, "What is it, Hwa?"

"My love, have you been aware that you were pregnant all along?"

As your gaze met his, he rested his forehead against yours, seeking to reassure you, "It's just... I was going through your embroideries earlier and I saw it—the baby shirt."

You let out a soft sigh, nodding, "Yes, I... I had a feeling, and I've been preparing myself to tell you about it, Hwa. But I just didn't know how to say it. I was scared of your reaction." When he attempted to pull away, you reached out, cupping his face to keep him close, "Listen to me, I'm not afraid of you. I... I know you've never had a proper family growing up—both of us, actually—and... I can't help but wonder if you might hate the idea of starting one."

His heart swelled with understanding, realising he had momentarily let his earlier insecurities get the best of him. Of course, you were simply concerned about him. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss against your lips before murmuring tenderly, "With another person, I would hate the idea. But with you, my love, I want it all."

Feeling touched by his words, you realised you had never needed to overthink the situation. You should have known that his love and acceptance were unwavering.

Perhaps you had just been overwhelmed by the idea of a tiny life growing inside you—a product of your love with Seonghwa. The thought of having a baby, your baby, filled you with joy and apprehension. Neither of you had experienced a conventional family upbringing, and you feared whether you could provide the love and care this child deserved. Since the first moment you felt sick and figured you might be pregnant, endless questions floated around your mind.

Were you ready?

Was he ready?

What if he didn't want children?

But now, those fears seemed unfounded. As tears welled in your eyes, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and buried your face against his shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. He held you close, peppering kisses all over your head, his love and warmth enveloping you. Through your tears, you whispered, "I love you, Hwa."

You could feel his smile against your skin as he leaned his head against yours, his voice soft and reassuring, "I love you more, my wife, and that'll never change."

In the days that followed, you found yourself hardly ever alone. Your husband seemed determined to stay by your side every moment, as if he hadn't already been doing so since he dismissed all his friends. Now, he was even more attentive and vigilant, always ensuring he was nearby to keep watch over you. And whenever he needed to retreat to his study for brief meetings with Jongho, Eunsook remained faithfully by your side.

Today was another one of those days when he had no choice but to attend to some work. He hadn't been attending the daily assemblies for a while, so the least he could do was go through some reports to stay updated on the latest happenings in court.

Meanwhile, the head maid remained by your side in your room. You sat with a cookbook in your hand, diligently trying to learn new recipes. As the saying goes, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and although you already had a hold on Seonghwa's heart, you were determined to work even harder to keep it safe with you.

"You've been quite busy lately, mistress, with cooking and embroidering. I think the master might be getting a bit jealous that you're not as focused on him as you are on these tasks," she joked, gently brushing your hair as she observed your focused expression.

With a playful giggle, you shot her a glance, "Is he really? Well, everything I do, I do it to be a better wife for him and a better mother to this little one," you said, smiling down at your growing bump.

Eunsook's expression softened, "I'm just kidding. I'm sure the master knows that," she reassured before pausing, "Mistress, have you both thought about baby names yet?"

At that, your eyes widened, and you set down the book in your hands, "Oh dear, we haven't. I've been so invested in everything else, it seems I might have overlooked the most important thing."

She chuckled, rubbing your back soothingly, "Don't worry, you still have plenty of time until the little one is born. Perhaps you and the master could start thinking about it now."

Later that night, as you lay in bed next to your husband, the words of the head maid lingered in your mind like a persistent whisper. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on your eyelids, you found yourself unable to sleep as your thoughts drifted towards potential names for the future baby Park. Each name you considered brought with it a flood of emotions and images of what your child might look like, how they would grow, and the kind of person they would become.

Sensing your slight movements, Seonghwa kissed your head softly, his voice gentle, "Are you still awake, my love?"

You grinned sheepishly, patting his chest, "I'm fine, Hwa. You go ahead and sleep. You must be tired."

But he sighed, gently sitting up with you still in his arms, ensuring the comforter covered you, "Not as tired as you. You're carrying a little person. Now, do you want to tell me why you're still not sleeping?"

Smiling shyly, you met his gaze, "I was talking to Eunsook earlier and realised... we haven't thought of any baby names."

His mouth formed an 'O' in realisation, mirroring your surprise. It seemed he, too, had not given it much thought. Nodding slowly, he whispered, "That's right, we haven't," pulling you closer to him, he relished the way your head fits perfectly in the crook of his neck, "So, what do you have in mind then? Have you managed to come up with anything with all that thinking, hm?"

You replied, nervously nibbling on your lip, "Actually, I have thought of a name. If it's a girl, Yeonjoo feels right."

He hummed, considering deeply, "Yeonjoo... like a lotus princess?"

You beamed, "Exactly. She'd be our little princess, growing up in the House of Lotus."

His heart swelled; your choice held significance. It wasn't just a random pretty name; it carried depth. Planting a kiss on your cheek, he smiled, "It's perfect. So, if it's a girl, Yeonjoo it is."

You cheered, "Okay, any ideas for a boy?"

He hesitated, then brightened, "You know what? I do have one in mind, though it might not be as thoughtful as yours. How about Jiyeong? It means a wise and brave hero, and it could also symbolise a flower petal, like the lotus. It'd be wonderful if he grew up to be intelligent and brave enough to protect his eomma," he murmured, gently placing his hand on your bump and stroking it.

"I think Jiyeong is a wonderful choice, Hwa, if it's a boy," you whispered, a sense of relief washing over you now that you finally had names for your child.

Covering his hand on your stomach with yours, you looked up at him with slightly wet eyes, "Gosh, can you believe we're going to be parents in a few months?"

"It's surreal sometimes, my love. And I'll admit, I am a little scared. But I know we'll manage. It won't be easy, but as long as we face it together, we'll be fine."

Yes, I know we will.

The first three months seemed to pass in a whirlwind, with Yunho's weekly visits becoming a familiar routine. Each time, he checked on your condition and brought herbs to boost your health and stabilise the pregnancy, ensuring everything progressed smoothly. Amidst this, life outside your little family continued to unfold.

You recall a particular evening when Wooyoung rushed in, desperate for your husband's aid to rescue a certain Miss Han. In a matter of weeks, she became a temporary resident in your household while still courting the private investigator. Her presence was delightful as she eagerly assisted you in cooking and embroidering, all while awaiting Wooyoung's eventual proposal that would take her away.

And through him, you learned of Hongjoong's latest job, assisting the youngest miss of the Baek family. It appeared to affect the dressmaker unexpectedly, stirring emotions no one had anticipated, especially him, even requiring a little nudge from both Seonghwa and Wooyoung to realise his feelings.

Before you knew it, you found yourself seated in the dining hall, surrounded by your husband's friends. Giving your hand a squeeze, Seonghwa cleared his throat to grab their attention, "Guys," he began, "we've gathered you all here today because we have an announcement to make."

Hongjoong, arms crossed, chimed in, "Pssh, I had a feeling. I knew you wouldn't be treating us to a meal for no reason."

Yunho's knowing grin widened, excited to see the dressmaker's reaction while Wooyoung leaned forward excitedly in his seat, nudging San beside him, who smiled back but inwardly wished the investigator would leave him alone. Mingi promptly set down his wine glass, eager to hear what was to come.

"I hope you're all excited because you're going to be uncles soon," the general announced, prompting cheers from everyone at the table.

The lovely Miss Han, seated beside you, wasted no time in giving you a side hug, though she had already been privy to your little secret. She had even been considerate enough to keep her man in the dark about it.

Wooyoung joined in the celebration, clapping enthusiastically, oblivious that his other half had been aware the whole time, "I knew it! I could tell she was pregnant from my first visit all those months ago. You've been so oddly careful with her ever since!"

At that, Hongjoong's expression darkened, "What do you mean, all those months ago? How far along are you, my lady?"

You rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly, "Three months."

The dressmaker's jaw dropped in disbelief, "You didn't think to tell us until now? Park Seonghwa, what kind of friend are you?"

Yunho scoffed and rolled his eyes, "See, that's why you're an idiot. What does Miss Baek even see in you, I'll never know. Obviously, they wanted to wait until her condition was stable before telling everyone. Why do you think I've been so busy for the past few months?"

Hongjoong shot him a glare, "Oh, I don't know? Maybe because you've been trying to spend all your time with a certain Miss Ryu?"

The physician sputtered in shock, but before the argument could escalate, Jongho appeared behind them, smacking both on the back, "That's enough, you two. Please continue this another time."

Your husband interjected, shooting the assistant a grateful smile, "That's right. As Yunho mentioned, we just wanted to wait until it was safe before telling you guys."

San and Mingi softened, offering heartfelt congratulations to you and Seonghwa, prompting the rest of the guys to do the same. However, the peace was short-lived. Wooyoung eagerly raised his hand, "Ooh, can I please be the godfather?"

The dressmaker was quick to object, "Excuse me? If anyone here is to be the godfather, it's obviously me! Know your place, you fool."

"Oh, dear god, here we go again," your husband muttered beside you.

You couldn't help but grin at their endless shenanigans, glancing down at your stomach and rubbing it affectionately. You already knew this baby would be spoiled rotten even before entering the world. It seemed this little one was already the star of the show.

I contemplated how much of the pregnancy I should cover, but I think I'll only do this much for now! Because any further than this, and that might spoil some of the other members' spinoffs. I shall focus on finishing up all the rest of the stories after this, and who knows? There could be more bonus chapters in the future, we'll see~

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/6): Tumblr is a bitch and won't let me mention more than 5 users in a single sentence, so now my tag list looks like a complete joke🤡

@huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo |

@sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @skzline |

@itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @xoxkii @avantalem @famishalll |

@soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol |

@atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii |

@ddaeing @sansaurora9904 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo |

@puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks |

@aliona124754 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @1117promises @deltamoon666 |

@st4rhwa @hikarii02 @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @thunderous-wolf |

@minkiflwr @starssongs98 @kawaiikels @en-happiness @cheolliehugs |

@persnyako @startinystay @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina |

@kyukyustar @taytayy178 @appleschre @brielle-in-the-galaxy @laurenwidjaja |

@idkwgoh @loveateez @linosllvr @idfkeddieishot @yuyubun

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[invidiia]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ "you're obsessed.." 𖤐 various bsd yanderes // reader.

bsd yanderes ada, pm, doa, hd + the jealousy scale.

[ a/n; hi i was bored and gotta feed the people bc my next big post is takin a bit 🏃‍♂️]

[ warning; jealous yanderes lolol ]

atsushi is a 6 of 10. definitely hides any jealous thoughts, at least until you're both home, but is absolutely bitter about it after

dazai is a fair 7 of 10. i don't have a lot to say about him, but he most definitely gets jealous easily

kunikida is a 5 of 10. when he's with you and you get hit spoken to by someone else, he just takes control of the situation and leaves with you. obviously against your choices, but he doesn't trust you.

ranpo is a 6 of 10. doesn't get too worried about other guys because he knows you wouldn't go for anyone else other than the greatest detective ever, but when another guy flirts with you, he just feels the need to.. step in.

yosano is a 7 of 10. she doesn't mind when others speak to you, as long as they aren't flirting with you, and that's a loose term with her. asking for directions in a large mall could get someone's fingers chopped off if she was in a particularly annoyed mood.

fukuzawa is a 4 of 10. he doesn't care if people talk to you either, but flirting is off the table with him. even so, he'll just leave the area and take you with him, he can't just let some other guy talk to you, are you crazy?

akutagawa is a 8 of 10. if someone's making small talk or something he doesn't care, but even speaking to you or looking at you for too long is just like asking for him to beat them senselessly.

chuuya is a 8 of 10. like akutagawa, small talk doesn't matter to him. you're socializing, who cares? but he's absolutely jealous of your friends, especially your close ones. strangers, he can beat the shit out of those, but your friends? he can't do anything there, so he just sits in silence.

higuchi is an 9 of 10. she hates when anyone else talks to you, she just can't stand it. she'll openly tell you how much she hates it when other people beside her 'flirt' with you, and makes you promise not to hurt her like that again.

gin is a 3 of 10. she does get jealous of other people like your closer friends, but doesn't act on anything, just sits in silence. maybe she'll express to you she was jealous, but she won't hurt anyone unless they make advances on you

tachihara is a 6 of 10. he does get jealous of your friends, but doesn't hate them. he just wants to be in their place. who says you should spend all your time with them? leave some room for him, won't you?

sigma is a 7 of 10. he won't make direct moves if he's jealous, he'll only tell you he's jealous afterward, or work behind scenes to get rid of the certain person he thinks talks to you a little too much for his liking.

fyodor is a 9 of 10. he doesn't think you'll talk to anyone else, it's about others talking to you. he just can't have you talking to anyone but him. why would you need to anyway?

nikolai is a 8 of 10. i don't have a whole lot to say about him either, but he's not afraid to be... himself,, if someone talks to you a little too much.

jouno is a 9 of 10. he knows you won't actually speak to other guys.. but still. he isn't chill when other guys talk to you, and gets worse when they eye you the wrong way,

tecchou is a 4 of 10. this man sees no reason to be jealous of your friends, or anyone who says they don't want you. why would they lie to him anyway? look at him, he's strong as hell. would you lie to him? didn't think so

[ a/n; sobs im so tired can you telllll ?? i only wrote doa trio bc.. fukuchi is strange, bram is just.. bram, plus i kinda only see him as platonic yandere loll, didnt do teruko cuz idk her actual age.. sorry this is so rushed lol its 2am i gotta go to beddd, but next post is dazai fr!!!!! ]

[2hightocare]

LOVE WAGER! 02

Synopsis: The concept of love resurfaces as you both agree to center your psychology project on the premise that love is a choice. You propose an intriguing idea to Jungkook: he must exert every effort to make you fall in love with him within a month, to back up his belief.

Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. angst/romantic comedy.

Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, neglectful parents, mentions of depression, banter, cussing, ex girlfriends, flashbacks, jungkook low key being super mean and discarding people’s feelings, jungkook hard-key depressed, implications of sex.

a/n: hai… this is so long overdue— exams month is coming and I had the biggest writers block fr but here’s my beloved babies. Song of the chapter— “love is embarrassing” by Olivia Rodrigo.

prev chapter! series masterlist!

Love.

Love is an intricate subject in its own right. Scientists elucidate it through the interplay of three cerebral chemicals: noradrenaline, dopamine, and phenylethylamine.

That's how Jungkook perceived love. He didn't subscribe to the notion of butterflies in the stomach or the fluttering heartbeat as justifications for love. To him, love was a scientific phenomenon, a complex emotion akin to sadness or jealousy-if he could evade such feelings, he would spare no effort.

But why did his stomach churn as if his organs were performing tiny somersaults whenever he gazed at you a tad too long? You were engrossed in the menu, pondering whether to get a burger or a slice of pizza.

Seated beautifully in your loose red Formula One shirt, Jungkook couldn't fathom how you managed to make that oversized shirt look so good.

Jungkook's eyes dropped to the ribbon in your hair, wondering why someone who was a full-on adult looked pretty, adorable even-with a red ribbon tied into a beautiful bow contrasting your skin and eyes. Your long eyelashes entranced him. He felt his stomach do something, a turn? Maybe his stomach was upset-he thought to himself.

Jungkook couldn't believe he found himself willingly sharing a table with you at the same dinner two years ago, he almost killed you at. He had moved to Emberhill U two years ago, ever since he moved out from his mom's house. Jungkook's life had gone to hell, which is exactly what his mind would tell him ever since his mom got a boyfriend. To make matters worse, he now had step-siblings.

He hated every bit of it. He wasn't jealous whatsoever.

It was the fact that his mom seemed to forget he even existed in the first place. Jungkook was hurt. He tried not to dwell or cry about it since he was a big boy-that's what he told himself now, pushing twenty-two, but still, part of his already broken heart shattered more.

How could your mom forget about her child? How could she not care about her only flesh and blood? He never told her that ever. Talking about his feelings with his mom was like talking to a brick wall that nothing could pass through. Plus, Jungkook wasn't good at communicating or talking about his feelings anyway. He found it embarrassing to lay yourself out there for someone to be able to discard you at any given moment.

Jungkook's dad wasn't any different as wellbeing too busy with work to even call him to ask his son if he was okay or how school is going. But the calls or text messages never came. Jungkook was used to it. It was his everyday. It was more shocking when he did call, but he wouldn't know what that would feel like since he never called ever since the divorce. Jungkook knew the divorce wasn't his fault whatsoever. His therapist—that his high school counselor made him go to—basically talked his ear off about how anything that happened wasn't his fault, but still, it felt like it was.

Ever since everything went down, his parents seemed to forget they had a child, who still needed them.

One advantage of his situation was the freedom to do as he pleased without his parents' interference. However, the downside was their lack of concern for his activities or just him in general. Jungkook was certain: if his parents didn't love him, who else in the world would? So, he didn't believe in love. When the two people meant to demonstrate unconditional love failed to do so, he doubted anyone else would. He would like to say that it didn't affect him and it's been years since everything, but deep down it still did.

Jungkook experiences a pang of guilt every time he looks at you. Perhaps it's the way he behaved when he first met you, the influence of the romantic comedy in your hands causing him to lash out at you.

Something about your ribbons makes him feel that you’re too innocent and naive for this world—part of him wants to shield you from its harsh realities, while another part wants to disillusion you about the cruelty of the world and the disparity between love in fairy tales and reality.

"Are you done daydreaming?" You say, interrupting his thoughts. Jungkook shakes his head, attempting to banish his thoughts before raising an eyebrow at your curious doe eyes. "I wasn't daydreaming," he states proudly, prompting a scoff from you, a grin tugging at Jungkook's lips.

"It was either daydreaming or checking me out since you were staring at me for a hot minute, but I decided otherwise since you have a girlfriend," you quip nonchalantly before calling the waiter to take your order.

"First of all, I don’t have a girlfriend, and second of all, what if I was checking you out?" Jungkook challenges. He didn’t know why he enjoyed getting on your nerves—any other person he would probably flip off and never give them the time of day, but instead, here he was with you doing the complete opposite.

"What happened to the girl from the dinner?" You question, your eyes finally meeting his brown ones. A glint of something passes over his eyes before disappearing as quickly as you saw it—so you thought maybe you had imagined it.

"Who?" Jungkook says, tilting his head to the side as he leans forward, his elbows propped on the table. "the one you mentioned to me two years ago? The one you discussed intimately," you mimic his voice. Jungkook's smile widens, amused by your jest.

"If you want to know so badly, we broke up—well, she broke up with me," Jungkook clicks his tongue, observing your expressions closely. He notices the creases of your forehead whenever you are thinking or the way you bite your lower lip to contain a smile that’s threatening to come out, each time Jungkook says something dumb.

"Oh, let me guess, she wanted love letters and sweet words whispered into her ear," you mock him, knowing he said that he didn’t need to do any of that to keep a girl. "You’re annoying, Ribbons," Jungkook shakes his head with a low soft chuckle.

You watch him pick up the menu and start scanning the items as you observe him. You notice how his jaw clenches momentarily before relaxing, his tongue poking on the inside of his cheek, making you wonder if you angered him—and if you did, maybe you should do it more often since he looked hot—

Record scratch.

Your mind was playing games with you the more you watched the raven-haired boy. The more you realized he was the epitome of the boy you imagined whenever you were reading a book, the dimples on his cheeks, the scar right above his cheekbone, and the mole underneath his bottom lip had you wanting to ask him for his whole life story.

He also looks like those cute love song playlists that had all your favorite songs in them, but you knew from the way he acts around you, it was definitely a hard no and maybe you were delusional after all. So you try hard to shove those ideas into the back of your brain as far as you could.

"I knew that you couldn’t keep a girlfriend," you shrug, prompting a gasp from him as he jokingly places a hand on his heart, as if you had just dealt him a mortal blow.

"Wow, YN doesn’t think I’m boyfriend material?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, shaking his head.

"You’re literally everything that's not boyfriend material," you throw your head back with a laugh, observing his widened eyes with amusement evident on his face. "Ouch," Jungkook scoffs dramatically.

"What makes you say I’m not boyfriend material?" he says, scanning the room for a waiter but finding none, before redirecting his attention to you.

"You don’t believe in love, that's one way to start," you point out, eliciting a hum of agreement from him. "What's that got to do with being a good boyfriend? I assure you that a good boyfriend isn’t necessarily head over heels in love," Jungkook says, as if imparting a valuable lesson, while your facial expression betrays you.

"The fuck? You literally hate everything related to love. Being a good boyfriend means doing cliche shit you hate doing so much, how could you possibly be boyfriend material?" you assert proudly, prompting an eye-roll from him.

"All that stuff is just superficial shit that everyone collectively agreed on. It’s just embarrassing how people put themselves go through all that just to make someone lik—���

"Love," you interject, earning yourself a glare from across the table.

"Like I was saying, I stand by the fact all those stupid romantic gestures are pointless. Society basically romanticized love and set up unrealistic expectations— everything just leads to heartbreak and disappointment," Jungkook continues, you watch how the hard expression on his face wavers to something more… sad, like he was talking from experience.

"Have you ever experienced love?" you inquire, not sure why since you guys weren’t even friends in the first place—the only reason you found yourself sitting with him willingly was because of psychology class.

"What?" Jungkook is caught off guard by the sudden question.

"Have you ever been in love?" you reiterate, observing his expression harden once more. "No, never, and I don’t plan to," Jungkook shrugs, going back to his usual cocky self in a blink of an eye, prompting yet another eye-roll from you, marking thirty-eighth.

You didn’t get the chance to reply since a waiter came to your table, apologizing for taking so long to get to us before taking our orders.

You and Jungkook decided on sharing a pizza, and you obviously ordered a coke, which got Jungkook joking about how he isn’t trying to make you choke again, which had the waiter shifting uncomfortably beside you both while Jungkook had an eating-shit grin on his face.

“That’s not what he meant!” You chuckled nervously, your face reddening, matching your shirt from how embarrassed you are.

“No, it’s okay, you don't have to explain,” the waiter said before excusing himself.

The moment the waiter was out of your line of vision, you turned your head to the boy who’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh.

“What the fuck was that?” You glared, your eyebrows scrunching. “What, you both just have a dirty mind,” Jungkook shrugged, the grin on his face making you shift in your chair.

Jungkook's aura was unlike anything you’d ever stumbled upon, and you hated it. It made you want to know more about him than you should, the way he carried himself and talked had you questioning why? He wasn’t so different from other boys you had met, besides the fact that he spoke his mind as if no one was around, not caring if he hurt your feelings or offended you. It was refreshing in some way, but it still made you want to pull your hair out.

“Alright… let’s change topics, Mr. Anti-Romantic,” you say, watching his smile widen.

“What?” You stared at him, trying to think what could possibly make him smile that much. You were sure your face would hurt if you possibly smiled that much.

“Nothing, I just find it extremely hot when you call me that, it turns me on,” Jungkook said, leaning forward.

Okay, that’s not exactly what you were imagining him saying. Your eyes widened momentarily, feeling your heartbeat rise. The smile not leaving his face had you feeling hot, as if the room temperature suddenly increased.

“Uh… so, project,” you blinked rapidly.

“Yeah, project,” Jungkook agreed, smile still on his face as he saw your cheeks flush with a reddish color.

“So, any ideas about what our project can be about?” You said, grabbing the hair tie around your wrist and using it to make a ponytail, taking the ribbons out before tying your hair.

Two small strands fell from your face, tempting Jungkook's fingers to reach out and tuck them behind your ear. He wanted to slap himself back to reality since he never in his life thought those thoughts, not even with Haneul, whom he dated for five months, setting a record. He still remembered the reason she gave him for breaking up. It was laughable.

“Jungkook, you don’t even look at me with love, and I know you said when we first met that it was only attraction, but I thought you would change over time the more we hung out,” Haneul whimpered, tears gathering around her eyes as Jungkook just stared at her, not knowing what to say. Because yes, he did tell her it was all attraction, and it’s still only attraction to this day for him.

“You don’t hold my hand or give me kisses, you don’t even give me flowers,” Haneul cried, her voice cracking with each word she said.

“I told you, I don’t do that stuff,” Jungkook said. He felt bad for her since he knew she deserved better, but he didn’t feel bad about not doing those things for her since he told her he wouldn’t and never would do them. And she agreed, so why was she crying about it now when she agreed to it five months ago?

“I know you did, but I thought you just… fuck, you haven’t even introduced me to your family,” a crack is heard from Jungkook's heart, but not for the girl in front of him crying her heart out, but for himself, because yeah, he had no family he could take a girl home to, since he had no home at all. He had a house, but it was as empty as he was.

“Haneul, I told you—“

“Yeah, that you will never do that! I get it, okay? I get it, but fuck, how can you not care? Do you not feel anything when it comes to me?” The girl wept more, which had Jungkook sighing.

“I like you, Haneul,” Jungkook replied. “I love you, Jungkook, can’t you tell…” she whispered, a choked sob leaving her lips as she looked up at the man who’s just standing in front of her like nothing.

“I’m sorry,” that's all Jungkook said… because what else could he say? It was either that or that he didn’t love her, but to not take it personally since he didn’t love anything?

So instead, he said the only thing he could muster without his voice cracking.

“Love,” Jungkook finally says, his statement catching you off guard, widening your eyes in surprise.

“Love? I thought you hated love,” you raise an eyebrow, perplexed by his sudden declaration.

“I do, but love is psychological. We can discuss how we, as humans, have the ability to choose whether we fall in love or not,” Jungkook articulates.

“That’s not how love works, Jungkook,” you retort, to which he responds with a disapproving nod. “It does, though,” Jungkook rebuts.

“It doesn’t. Love is not something we can choose and pick, it just happens,” you try to explain.

“You believe love just happens, but I disagree, respectfully,” Jungkook adds, causing you to tilt your head curiously, intrigued by his perspective. “I’ve held on for too long without being in love since I said I wouldn’t fall in love,” he concludes.

“That’s because you haven’t met anyone you actually want to try with… maybe you just haven’t met your soulmate,” you suggest, annoyance evident on Jungkook’s face the moment you mention the concept of soulmates.

“Soulmates don’t exist, ribbons,” Jungkook snickers.

“I beg to differ,” you cross your arms, adamant in your belief. “I don’t know what fantasy lovey-dovey world you live in, but soulmates are just made up,” Jungkook shrugs casually.

“Maybe you are right about the fact that you get to choose who you fall in love with since I know for a fact I would never fall in love with you,” you spitefully state.

Jungkook nods, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth that catches him off guard. Perhaps it was the fact that someone had just openly admitted they wouldn’t want to love him—reminding him of the kid he once was, desperately begging his parents to love him. But wasn’t this what he was trying to prove in the first place, that love was a choice? Then why did it hurt to hear you say those words out loud?

“Atta girl, finally got it huh,” Jungkook smirks, ignoring the pang of hurt in his chest. “Alright then, if we did do that for our project, let’s say we argued that love is a choice and it doesn’t happen. How do we prove that?” you question.

Silence fills the table as you both brainstorm ideas, trying to back up this argument.

“I got it,” you say, as if a light bulb just appeared on top of your head. Jungkook nods, encouraging you to continue.

“What if we spend a month with you doing absolutely everything to make me fall in love with you? And I mean do all that cliché, romantic shit I love that you hate so much. Since I know for a fact that I choose not to fall in love with you, we can discuss how, even if a person does everything right, you still get to choose who you love,” you explain carefully, ensuring he understands your proposal.

“It’s a good idea for the project; we could use ourselves to illustrate how we pick and choose who we love, like you said,” you try to convince him, giving him the benefit of the doubt after he convinced you of his beliefs. You knew you would never fall for him, even if he did everything you ever read in books and saw in movies.

“We can call it the Love Wager,” you finish, scanning his face as he contemplates the idea.

Jungkook’s mind races, unsure if he likes the idea or absolutely hates it. On one hand, it could earn him a good grade, given the strong rationale behind it, using yourselves as an experiment to support your argument. But on the other hand, the thought of spending a month doing everything he had vocally despised for the past five years gave him the heebie-jeebies.

“Alright then, the Love Wager operation starts,” Jungkook agrees instead, while you clap happily. “Oh my god yay, this might give me an A plus,” you celebrate, giggling as Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story; I just hate psychology,” you say, to which he nods in response.

“Well, we have a month together, so start explaining why you hate it so much,” Jungkook says nonchalantly, and before you could reply, the waiter hurriedly returns to your table, apologizing for the wait, mentioning the kitchen’s struggle with the influx of orders. But you keep your eyes on the boy in front of you, who looks at the waiter, reassuring him it’s okay.

The smell of fresh, hot pizza fills your nostrils as you finally snap out of your trance, looking down at the pizza the waiter is sliding onto the table, cautioning you both that it is extremely hot. The waiter continues to place all the food you ordered on the table before leaving with a bow.

“I’m starving, oh my god,” Jungkook moans as he picks up a slice of pizza and takes a bite, ignoring the steam.

“How is that not burning your tongue, oh my…” you begin to say, but you’re interrupted as you take a bite of your own slice, immediately regretting it as you burn your tongue. “Ah, ah, ha,” you drop the pizza onto your plate, sticking your tongue out and fanning your mouth with your hand. A small laugh escapes from Jungkook as you shoot him a snarky glare.

“He literally just told you it was hot, ribbons,” Jungkook says, grabbing a napkin from the container and reaching over to wipe some sauce off your lips and face. The fanning from your hand halts as you stare at his focused face, feeling yourself heat up again, but this time it’s not your mouth—it’s your cheeks.

“Why did you just do that?” you ask before you can stop yourself, as he sits back down properly. “I’m starting my boyfriend material journey, you know, since the project?” Jungkook says casually, taking another bite of pizza, watching you in surprise as you shockingly observe him not being fazed by the burning food in his mouth, chewing happily.

“Oh… we’re starting right now?” you gesture to the table between you both, indicating ‘right now’. “Yeah, we only have one month, let’s make it worth it,” he says, diving back into his food.

God, this month was definitely going to be a roller coaster.

💌taglist— @brune77e @cherryfragrancx @inlovewithharutoo @jcnggukie @vkjmjjk @seokjinspinkslipper @jayjahni @mxrecg @suciedad-divina @peterstarkchrishiddleston @aiiselle90210 @lovingkoalaface @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @chxrrybangtan @seokout @junecat18 @joonsanswer @ahgasegotarmy116recs @jkmylove97 @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @whoa-jo @ziyaexe @kooloveys @sneezedonthebeat @parkinglot-nights @btsffreader92 @jjeonjjk7 (lmk if you wanna get taken off)

[binniesbooks]

hi my fayebae, i just read ‘you don’t want him to know, do you’ and i’m🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️absolutely in love with it ahhh, feeding my brain and oh god i sudd had a thought…

his fingers… please

soobin x reader??? let’s just say that in this reality, soobin is able to play the piano beautifully. With his long fingers giving him the advantage of reaching the many keys he needs to, sometimes your mind wonders of how those long fingers would feel inside you…

the way he would play with your cunt… the way he would make sure youre stretched out and then finger fucks you…purposely bringing out his fingers from you. Sucking of your cum from his fingers, making you imagine how his tongue would feel against your clit.which of course then leads to freaky freaky heheh

ahhh i fr had this thought i hope u like it🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

• MELODIES OF TEMPTATION

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 3.4k

pairings musictutor!Soobin x fem!reader

warnings oral sex, fingering, making out, nipple pinching (dream)

faye's note TMI: I was summoned to hell for the goddamn thesis, that's why I uploaded this late. Wth. Fuck school.

Hope you still enjoy this tho hehe, especially to my Beomgyu's kitten, I'm sorry for uploading so late, omg I hate myself 😭 anyway, I love your asks, really. Kith kith 💋

The soft clinks of the keys of the piano resonated inside the confinement of an empty room, long slender fingers dancing gracefully across the keys. Soft hums come from a comforting voice. The cold windy breeze blows at the open windows flowing through the guy's long fringe as his eyes flutter close feeling the notes hit his ears quietly. His movements came to a halt, head snapping towards the door --soft knocks waking him from his wandering thoughts.

'Hi, are you, perhaps, Choi Soobin?" You quietly asked, clutching on the straps of your crossbody bag.

"Uh, yeah?" he hesitated out of confusion, "May I help you?" -- "Oh, where are my manners, come in." he stood up from the piano as he walked toward the small table on the corner.

You walked slowly, observing the naked room, almost doubting if you really did come to the right place. "Please take a seat," Soobin said as he offered you a glass of water.

"So uh, my mother, found out about these some piano class thing? And, forced me to take it?"

"Is that so? Well, I have no students this session. it's been a while actually, so I'm afraid I can't make classes as of now." He answered.

You wiped your palms on your jeans, "Uhm, is there, like, nothing we can do about it then?"

"The whole lesson fee is actually divided over students. It's just that I can't let you pay the whole price. It's too expensive, given that... you still look like a student." He explained observing your overall figure that totally gives off a student vibe.

"I can pay for the whole price. Just... just let me take the lesson," you pleaded, hands clasped in front of you, "I just can't do anything about it. My mother is expecting me to play the piano in 3 months. I'm supposed to play at my brother's wedding." You rolled your eyes at the request your mother asked you. It just didn't make sense. Why ask you to learn the piano when they could just hire a whole band if they wanted to?

"I see." he meekly answered, nodding slowly. "Then I think we can do something about it." He stood up and walked towards the small cabinet just near the table.

"You can fill up this form, for legal purposes. And we can proceed on talking about your schedule." He handed you a folder. "Do you want to pay it whole or do you want to pay it every session?" He asked as he watched you fill up the form. "I'll pay during every session." You smiled at him and continued answering the necessary form.

You slide back the form towards him, "Y/n Y/s/n, 22." he muttered under his breath before closing the folder. "When are you free?" He asked as he pulled out his phone. "I am free on weekdays afternoon, and weekends the whole day."

"Should we do it on weekends?" he asked, checking his calendar. "We will have 24 sessions in total," he added.

"I'll take it. Weekends, I mean." You agreed.

"Is 5-8 in the evening okay with you?" His head tilted to the side, and you simply nodded.

Soobin stood up, "Okay then, come back this Saturday. we'll start at five." You stoop up after him taking his hand to shake it. As you were about to leave, you turned around once again, "I don't have to pay any deposit?" He chuckled as he answered with a dimpled smile, "No deposits."

...

You gasped as you looked at your wristwatch, what were you doing all this time? It was already four in the afternoon. You fumbled to fix your things as you quickly got up.

"Something wrong?" One of your friends asked, "We still have a movie to watch." "Go ahead, I have an appointment this afternoon, I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you guys on Monday!" You scurried out of the cafe only to go back again to order drinks.

"Two iced americanos, to go."

You knocked at the door twice before pushing it open. He was playing the piano again. he has a huge frame, you thought to yourself. His broad shoulders complement his tall figure, despite the fact that he has a big body build, Soobin has a small waist, emphasized with how his white shirt was tucked in his pants.

You walk towards the small couch and place the drinks on the table. You close your eyes as you listen to his soothing voice. He quietly sings with the melody he is playing. When he was done, you cleared your throat to let him know you were already there.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I did not notice you." he shyly walks over to the couch to talk to you. You offered him the drink as he expressed a small "thank you."

"You have a great voice." You complimented him. A flush crept up on his face, to be honest, he's not used to being complimented.

"Shall we get started? I'm glad to walk you through your music journey." His dimples showed up nicely. They're cute, it makes you want to poke them but it doesn't make you seem professional.

The session ended up well. Besides, Soobin did not have to start from the very beginning, since you already know some of the basics.

The following sessions wrapped up well too. According to Soobin, you are a fast learner. You pick up everything he says quickly. Well, aside from Soobin having longer fingers, it was difficult for you to press keys that were far apart. Other than that you didn't have any problem.

"Can I just cut my fingers and have yours instead?" You were growing frustrated, you were not able to press the right key, making a disturbing sound instead of a good melody. You always end up twisting and wrenching your hand when trying to hit the notes.

"I quit!" You exclaimed only for Soobin to chuckle at your complaints. "You can do it, you are a fast learner," Soobin commented, his arms crossed on his chest. "I am, but the keys make me want to kill myself." You blurted. "It's easy, look." Soobin gently placed his finger on the keys, easily pressing down each note. "You have long fingers, I don't." You pouted. "Not my fault I have longer fingers than you." He answered while laughing only to make you pout again.

"Let's end here, come back tomorrow, you should rest for now, it's getting late." Soobin closed the windows of the room.

"Where do you live? Shall we go out together?" You asked.

"Call," he replied with a dimply smile.

You two ended up dropping by at a convenience store to grab a snack. You found out that you go back by the same way, so you thought might as well take the same bus later.

"I thought you were much older than me." You chimed when you found out he's just one year older than you. "Shall we talk casually, then?" He asks as he sips on the hot chocolate he bought. "If you don't mind." You nodded giddily.

Soobin saw how you shivered at the chilly breeze. "Wear my jacket, you've been shivering since earlier." He offered, taking off his jacket to hand it to you. "I forgot mine." You sheepishly answered as you wrapped his jacket around your body.

"Let's go. You might freeze to death if we stay here any longer." Soobin laughed quietly, picking up the trash on the table as he chucked it into the nearest trash can.

You took the same bus that night. He even bid you goodbye and breathed a soft "Take care, see you next week" before you got off.

Soobin is a shy guy. But he's gentle and caring. He's also talented, not to mention his face card did not decline.

That same night when you got home, you did not know what had gotten into you. You did not know the reason why you let your senses engulf the perfume on his jacket, nor when you tried to close your eyes only to vividly imagine how your night went on. You even quietly prayed and hoped each day that week came fast. Your heart raced at the thought of seeing him again. You grew nervous each day, the anticipation made you bounce your legs in class. It got you checking and re-checking the date.

Maybe the heavens above heard your silent pleas. Because the weekend arrived so quickly. You were so used to wearing just pants and shirts whenever you went to the music tutoring. However, this time, you find yourself fumbling through your dresses as you look for clothes you can wear that gaev off the "I dressed up well for you but I'm not gonna make it obvious" vibe.

You stood in front of the mirror, wearing a skirt and a knitted long sleeve. You look silly, but your heart is about to burst out from the giddiness you were feeling. It's not that you were gonna meet up with a date or something, but, maybe, you like him. Maybe you like Soobin a little bit. Your sessions were more than halfway done, with just 10 sessions remaining.

However, when you stepped inside, there was no Soobin to be found. Nor his things to be seen. The windows were open, though.

You were clutching onto his jacket he had lent you as you scan the room once again, still not used to the naked ass room he's holding the lesson in. However, a bigger couch caught your attention, it looks new. You sat on the couch and watched the clock ticking slowly. You placed his jacket on the couch, as you tried to make it puffy to serve as a makeshift pillow. It's still early anyway, taking a nap won't hurt, besides, he's still not here.

Soobin stepped inside the room, his hair a bit messy as if he just got up from a nap, or a fight, or whatever it was. His words are slurred. Was he drunk? "Hey, are you alright?" You asked as you stood up and walked closer to his tall frame still standing at the door. He grabbed your face and crashed his lips onto yours. His hands fumbled over your body as he pressed your back against the wall.

"H-hey.. S-soobin.. ah.." You tried to push him away but to no avail, he's much larger and stronger than you. His tongue grazed your neck as he sucked lightly as if he wanted to leave a mark. His slender fingers danced across your waist, slipping underneath your long sleeve. He lightly pinched your nipples, eliciting a soft moan from you. His hand travels back to your waist down to your thighs as he lifts your skirt. Your blood ran south, heat pooling on your slit. You can't help but whimper at his touch, his fingers gently rubbing your clothed pussy. He pushed your underwear to the side to slide his fingers in--

"Hey, hey y/n, are you okay?" His face was painted with worry as he tapped your shoulder to wake you up. Your eyes snapped open. "You were whining in your sleep, is everything fine?" He asked grabbing a glass of water. Your face turned red. You can't believe you were dreaming about him, and a sexual dream at that. You chugged down the whole glass of water, you couldn't look him in the eyes, what was that dream all about? Oh god.

"I'm sorry, I was late, something came up and I needed to take care of it, that's why I uh, wasn't here." He apologized, his face still painted with worry.

"N-no it's fine. I mean, I early.. I'm got.. I was... I got here earlier t-than our scheduled time." You cannot even form your words straight. He let out a laugh, as he look at you once again. "You got me worried from all that whining." He sighed, "I thought you were having a bad dream." You scratch the back of your nape as you play with the glass in your hand, you can't tell him about your weird dream, it's not something to spill.

"Shall we start? I'll play a song first, then you'll play once I'm done and apply what you have learnt." He instructed as he strides towards the piano.

Your eyes were fixated on how his fingers danced gracefully on the keys. His beautiful fingers were able to reach the notes you were unable to do. Choi Soobin was actually known for his exceptional piano skills even when he was still at a young age. To most, him playing melodies effortlessly could enrapture the audience, but to you, his fingers stirred thoughts that went far beyond music. You had always thought how his fingers were so pretty although he was a man. It was as though he gave them extra care. The thought even caused you to dream about him. Not to mention you were dreaming about him inside his tutor room.

He had finished playing long ago, but you were still staring at his fingers, still in a daze. His body was already turned to you, examining your eyes and what they were staring at. An enigmatic smile played on his lips, "Care to tell what you are thinking about?" He asked, voice low and inviting. "W-what?" Your eyes snapped back at him. "What's on your mind, y/n." He chuckled when you avoided his gaze, he stood up, "Care to tell?" His head was tilted to the side once again. "Nothing... I.. I just think you're really good at playing the piano.. and that your fingers are p-pretty," you stuttered.

Soobin walks back to the couch where you were sitting, he draws his face near to yours as you back down, leaning your head on the backrest of the couch. "Is that all you're thinking about?" You felt your heart thump faster and harder as you nodded frantically, your palms sweaty. "I don't think so," he leans closer, one wrong move and you'll get your lips crashed with his, "I heard you call my name in your sleep -- let me correct myself, you were actually moaning my name." His arms were on both sides of your head, you're trapped on the couch.

"I'm not the type to let myself go in this kind of situation, but," he stopped as he twirled the end of your hair on his fingers, "You excite me. I'm actually surprised." He chuckled. "S-soobin, I... I didn't mean t--" "Mhm, you didn't baby, you didn't." He nods as he presses his thumb on your glossy lips. You gripped his jacket on your lap with nowhere to ground yourself. Your eyes flutter close at the skin contact. "See? You really didn't." He whispered before closing the gap between the two of you.

You did not know what happened, or what had gotten unto him, but there's one thing you were sure of. Your music tutor is making out with you.

"My, my... You were thinking about what else my fingers can do, am I right?" He remarked as he pulled away a bit. You bit your lips as you nodded lightly. "Naughty girl." He smirked.

His fingers danced across your face, touching your cheeks as he kissed you. You can't help but hold onto his arms.

"Stand up," he commanded as he pulled away. He gently drags you and makes you sit on the soft cushion chair in front of the piano. "Show me what you have learned." He ordered as he kneeled in front of you. "You look pretty by the way," he added.

You slowly pressed on the keys of the piano with an unstable rhythm and a pounding heart. "Spread your legs, I'll show you something," he chuckled at the thought. You clenched your hand as you slowly spread your legs in front of him. "Don't stop playing until I say so," he instructed as he pushed your underwear to the side.

You continued playing on the piano with a more uneven tone and rhythm as you trembled under his touch. His fingers danced gracefully on your pussy, slightly grazing your clit, making you shiver.

He bunches up your skirt to your waist and pulls your underwear all the way for easier access. "Tell me once again that you didn't mean what you were doing earlier," a playful smirk was plastered on his face as he looked up at you. "I... I didn't m-mean to m-moan your n-name..." You whispered with a shaky voice. "Is that right?" He asked, his finger nudging your clit. You nodded as you felt your body shrink at his melting gaze.

"Your body says otherwise, lovely." He chimed as his middle finger slides easily inside you making you gasp. "Continue playing, I'm grading you." He reminded.

You don't even know if the notes you're playing were making sense or if it's the right key, you just kept on pressing the keys with trembling hands as you felt Soobin's finger scissoring your pussy. "You're so wet that all I can hear is the squelching sound, your notes are being drowned," he commented, pressing on your sweet spots.

"S-soobin, I can't a-anymore..." Your fingers stopped, as you shook your head. "I'm grading you y/n. It's either you pass, or I'm going to refer you to another tutor." He warned. "B-but--" "No buts, pretty. Continue."

You did not know where your mind flew to. All you can think about is how his pretty fingers are stretching you out and reaching the spots your own fingers weren't able to reach. "I'm g-gonna cum..." Your voice all trembling and shaking as much as your legs do.

"So soon?" Soobin started to move a bit faster, the sound your pussy was making was so lewd and dirty. You're toes curled, your hand gripped on his shoulder as you try to stop yourself from cumming. Soobin smirked, you're so lovely to look at. "Hmm, pretty." He chuckled as he stared at you.

"P-please Soobin, I'm gonna cum..." You pleaded. He twisted his fingers, scissored and pushed it more inside your gummy walls, you're too weak to hold back. You came on his fingers as you shuddered with his finger still fucking inside you. You were whining and squirming, but he's too strong for your weakened body.

He pulled his fingers out. He stares at his sticky and slicked-covered fingers and looks at you. He saw how the flush crept over your cheeks. "We will continue our sessions, you still have a lot to learn." His gaze at you is unwavering, waiting for you to look back at him. And when you did, his fingers disappeared in his own mouth.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet." He moaned, cleaning his own fingers covered with your cum. His low voice gives you a shiver down your spine. He continued on licking his fingers, eyes locked on yours. You lean down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulled away. "I'm still not done, hold your skirt up." As a good student, you gladly obliged, clutching on your skirt.

He placed one of your thighs on his shoulder as he dives into your pussy. Lapping every essence dripping down. You squirmed and gripped on his hair. His tongue poking on your cunt. "S-soobin ahh, shit." You've lost it. Your tutor is eating you out, the guy you have a little crush on.

He keeps on humming in your pussy, the vibration adds to the tingly sensation you are feeling. You were in ecstasy.

"N-no more... Hng.." he did not stop. No way he's gonna stop. Not when Soobin is already hard and on the verge of cumming just by eating you out. But he holds back. "Shit!" Soobin felt you clench on his tongue, riding your other high. Your legs spasmed while he was cleaning you with his tongue, scraping every drop of your cum. It's something he can't waste.

He looks up at you, wiping his glistening mouth and nose with the back of his hand.

"Lay on the couch." He bosses, as he proceeded to lock the door. "Maybe buying this bigger couch has a purpose. Too bad it'll get soiled today, I just bought it yesterday." He smiled as he unzipped his pants, "Bend over. You're the one to grade me this time. Which is the best? My finger, my tongue, or my cock."

@binniesbooks 2024

[chxrrydrxp]

ok so i'm so in with your theme rn and i loved your after car with jason drabble but what i really came here to say imagine poor jason todd realizes he's in love in dick's girlfriend. he doesn't say anything but he knows he can treat you better and be better for you. he knows dick cares about you but he's bad for you because he'll never fully love you but believes he can. so he watches you from afar, trying to sweet in small ways like helping fixing your car and stuff. he watches you and dick fight, break up and of course make up till the point he's fed up of watching dick play you because he's knows dicks cheating and he knows dick isn't trying to hurt you but its not fair. poor jason he doesn't want to be a rebound he just wants to give you the love you deserve.

I'm really about to break jasons pretty heart and staple it back together with this fic. apologies for the wait! I got too excited and decided to write a series about it 🥹

I'll release it chapter by chapter 🤭 and you're a genius I love ur brain 🧠

and fr dick damn near slept with every dc character that man is a whore. I'm still tryna figure out what excuse imma give him for why he is a serial man whore

all jokes aside, I'm gonna have some much fun with this.

𝒻ℴ𝓇𝒷𝒾𝒹𝒹ℯ𝓃 𝒻𝓇𝓊𝒾𝓉

Jason Todd x (Dick's Ex! Fem!) Reader:

chapter 1

chapter 2

warnings: this series will get heated eventually, and I'll just put a warning on those specified chapters.

this might be a long series, depends how much yall want it 🤭

Loud rain poured against Jason's window. He laid against his dark wood bed frame while reading a book. As he flicked through thin pages, the sound of you and Dick arguing could be heard from across the hall.

He wasn't exactly trying to eavesdrop, but he could make out certain sentences like “why's her name still..’. He sighed, growing more and more tired of the constant back and forth between you two. The conversation slowly moved from the room into the hall, and the argument could almost be heard throughout the whole manor.

“Dick, I cannot do this anymore. I'm tired. I'm tired of being confused about your feelings for me!” He could then hear Dick's annoyingly condescending voice. Another tired sigh escaped Jason's lips as he ran his fingers tiredly through his dark strands. He rolled off the bed, put on a loose white tee, and slipped on black house shoes.

Pulling the door back, he wasn't even noticed by the two of you until his deep voice rumbled through the hall. Even as a quiet, “The hells’ all the commotion, I'm tryna read damn it”, his voice caught your attention. You felt slightly embarrassed. But the anger just wouldn't let up. “Sorry Jason, just go back to your room,” Dick pleaded, leaning against the wall with a frown. Jason rolled his eyes at Dick's continuous attempts to sound like an older brother, and his eyes flickered to yours.

Noticing your red eyes and a tear of anger falling down your cheeks, his jaw relaxed and he almost looked concerned. “You alright?” His soft voice coaxed you out of your bubbling fit of anger. “Yeah...I'm okay…I'm just gonna go home..” Your eyes stuck back to the floor and then you walked away, leaving the two brothers alone. Dick began to walk away, only stopping in his tracks at the mention of his name.

“Dick…you can't keep doin' this man-” Dick spun around shooting a cold glare at him. “Doing what? You think I want to hurt her?” Jason's eyebrows furrowed. “You're not doing a good job of proving me wrong.” Dick walked away.

You dropped your keys on your marble console table, falling onto the couch with a sigh. You knew he wasn't right for you. This cycle of toxicity would go on and on forever unless you stuck your foot in the ground. The repeating doubts about your relationship circled your mind almost daily. You and Dick had been together since late middle school days. You went everywhere with each other and attended every dance together. You were both practically attached at the hip. You had everything in common and could get lost in various topics for hours.

But, that connection had seemed so far away. So long ago. Like a distant memory. The romance in the relationship felt like it was fading, but neither of you was ready to let it go. And it puts a strain on your relationship, even without romance.

You curled up on the soft sofa, bringing your knees to your chest and feeling stinging tears well in your eyes. You knew it was bad for you. God that's all you ever thought about. But it hurt too much to even consider ending things. He was so familiar.

You don't know how much time has passed by of you being stuck in a constant loop of repetitive thoughts, but a knock on your door shook you out of your trance.

“y/n? It's Jason, can I come in?” You quickly wiped your eyes with your shirt and straightened yourself out. “Be right there!” You cringed at that obvious wavering of your voice. You reached the door, opening it slightly so he could only see your upper half. Your head was leaned downward as a half-assed attempt to hide your tear-stained face. “Hey,” was all he said, with a faint sheepish smile. You lazily nodded at him. “Need something?” You'd hoped you didn't sound angry at him. “Well, I came here to ask you the same thing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, a familiar habit of his. “Come in.”

(yall I cannot think of a title omg)

[serenewrote]

"I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you" - Aegon Targaryen II x Cousin! reader

Synopsis: After the events of the disagreement of Driftmark's succession, such as the "unfortunate" death of Vaemond Valeryon, the family indulges in a nice dinner where you give your cousin an offer he shouldn't refuse.

Rating: PG-13

Warning(s): attempted manipulation (my girl almost had him fr).

You are seated at your father's left side, patiently waiting. You and your father, Daemon, glance at each other. He looks at you in discontent and you give him a look, he knows you won't let up.

King Viserys stands, well more like leans on the table, and speaks, "How good it is... to see you all tonight... together."

"Prayer before we begin?"

"Yes."

The Queen Alicent begins to pray, "May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long."

You rolled your eyes. What does she thinks she's doing?

"And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest."

You snicker at the last remark, may the gods give him hell. Vaemond was out of his mind.

"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young Princes... and their betrothed."

You smile, proud of your sisters and how they've grown. "Hear, hear!"

Aegon leans over to whisper to Jace, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."

Baela takes a drink and looks at him in annoyance. She then turns to look at you. You make eye contact. Do not worry, dear sister. He'll get his due.

You take a look at your cousin. How pathetic? Your women will chew him up and spit him out. Not before you have your turn, of course.

"Let us toast as well to Prince Lucerys... the future Lord of the Tides.

"Hear, hear."

Aegon leans over to Jace, once again.

"You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle? Where to put your cock and all that."

"Let it be, cousin."

"You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed."

Aegon hums in fake agreeance. You zone out halfway, coming back seeing Jace take Helaena to dance. You see your father nod in your peripheral. You move to Jace's seat and lean to whisper in Aegon's ear.

"Dearest cousin, I heard of the little situation with a servant girl this morning."

Aegon looks at you. Why the hell are you talking to him?

"What of it, cousin."

"I- It must feel so restricting. Not being able to do what you truly want, having to marry someone you feel no love for."

"Well, I don't see a man at your side, cousin. Did you scare them off."

"Quite the contrary, Aegon. Unlike all these other ladies of the court, I don't need a man at my side to have power. I'm free to bed whoever I want, whenever I want."

Aegon grits his teeth at your clear mocking, "How lucky you are, Y/n."

You smirk internally. Hook, Line, and Sinker. "I could help you, of course. The women of Dorne love men like you, cousin. Princely, Silver-haired, Targaryen. Personally, I like my men: pathetic... and good for one thing."

You lean closer. Your lips grazing his ear, "I could take you away from here. To Dorne. You'd be away from all of this. Away from your mother, who seems to only care about image. You'd be free, Aegon."

He looks at you, his eyes growing desperate. He's actually considering it.

Just then, a servant sets a roasted pig down. Lucerys chuckles. Aemond hits the table, anger evident. He stands, goblet in hand.

"Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... hm.... strong."

"Aemond."

"Come... let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys."

Jace gets in Aemond's face, "I dare you say that again."

"Why? Was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?"

Jace punches Aemond as Luke gets up and Aegon slams his head on the table. You look the boys in disgust. One normal night. Just one, please?

"Why would you say such a thing before these people?"

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother. Mm, though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs."

Rhaenyra turns to Jace, Luke, and your sisters, "Go to your quarters. All of you go, now."

Your father looks at you expectantly. You whisper in Aegon's ear one last time, "Seems as though you are happy here, cousin. Being a nuisance. Forever at the beck and call of your mother and grandsire."

You leave him, walking over to your father and Rhaenyra, "Goodnight, Father, Rhaenyra." You retreat to your chambers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Aegon stands in front of the people, having been crowned King, he thinks back to your words. The offer sounding so convincing. If only he hadn't acted out, then maybe the sound of your voice and your sweet words wouldn't haunt him.

fin.

Oh. My. God. I don't know if I love or hate this because I straight pulled this out of my ass.

Also for further context, you are Daemon's oldest daughter. Your mother is one of the eldest children of Qoren Martell and the reason why you aren't married is because you really don't need a husband. Your mother has a twin brother and so you will rule alongside your cousin as it is not known which one of them came first.

[wickjump]

Not exactly hurt comfort but I am enjoying the idea that every time Cross reveals something about his past/childhood it slowly but surely makes the team angry. Like he happens to share a "funny story" or mention how he was treated and one by one the gang is horrified to the point where if xgaster actually showed up in the same au as them they would all be gunning for him immediately.

Also the stars showing up during this fight and like Dream: Nightmare stop this!! What are you doing to- Nightmare: (goops over and whispers something in Dream's ear) Dream: WHAT?? No fuck that (starts aiming his arrows at xgaster)

IVE SPOKEN ABOUT THIS SO MANY TIMES WITH FRIENDS/MUTUALS I AGREE SO MYCH HE HAS SO MANY TRAUMATIZING CHILDHOOD STORIES HE INTERNALLY NORMALIZED GOD. HE DOESNT REALIZE HOW BAD IT WAS AND THE REACTIONS HE GETS ARE UNNERVING. THANK YOU FOR THIS AND OTHER CROSS RELATED ASKS YOURE SO GOOD WITH THEM THEYRE MY FAVORITE

ok ya this is just plain whump warning for lotsa child abuse including physical. like beating the shit out of an 8 year old physical. also I’m so tired right now

chances are that’s not even the worst of it because you know his seven year old ass was told ‘don’t tell anyone about me beating you to near death’ and he still sticks to that. but he speaks about abuse he doesn’t even grasp counts as abuse.

withholding food. sleeping in the yard. eating food on the floor while the others sat at the dinner table as punishment (or to eat out of a dog bowl on the ground i had to do that once lol). as a kid still scared of the dark he was locked in dark rooms until he got over his fear (he’s still scared to this day but he won’t seek help because he doesn’t want to be punished again). cross touched something he wasn’t supposed to? put your hand on the burning hot stove for however many seconds that item was worth in G (maybe divided by 5/10), or until he cried.

cruel and unusual punishments were xgaster’s forte but he tells them like funny stories to the horror of literally everyone around him.

cross is not coping well with figuring out that no that’s not normal and no that’s fucked up. most of his scars are probably from xgaster (excluding the red one on his face obv). and when he delves into the traditional abuse it gets worse somehow?? anyway xgaster is on THE multiversal hitlist. star sanses and bad sanses all want his head on a wall. even ink because ink didn’t know about the abuse because xgaster never told him for obvious reasons and it’s not like cross was willing to share.

i think that once he starts talking about the abuse he can’t stop (same) and he’s just. slowly crying and eventually hyperventilating and oh he’s been holding onto that for SO long. and then he hates that he told people because he wasn’t supposed to and is scared that they’ll see him less or punish him for some reason or hate him now, but he isn’t expecting to be comforted after? wtf? he doesn’t grasp that saying ‘yeah i got in trouble at school so my dad beat me until i lost two of my baby teeth and got a temporary crack in my skull’ normally results in being hugged or something. like dude you were 8 wtf. and he’s so scared but he just wants to feel safe AUGH HE MAKES MY HEART HURT. like dude, he almost beat papyrus at a time he was so young he had to use a step-stool to reach the sink to brush his teeth :( dude…

anyway ya cross is me fr (the burning hand stove happened once/twice to me actually idk i was like 5 lol. my grandfather is not the best man) and he deserves to go through hell on earth and be tortured in his childhood i think. oh and experience comfort or whatever after idk. kross maybe because their dynamic is ‘my childhood was ruined’ x ‘my adulthood was ruined’ and i think that’s sweet. or mtt + cross poly with nightmare as the outlier wondering why they’re so affectionate all of a sudden (he’s aroace…)

BUT THATS SELF INDULGENT LMAO what really matters is how much we torture the poor lad that is cross 🥰

also make him trans because abuse isn’t enough he needs extreme dysphoria all of the time. xgaster isn’t transphobic btw this is independent from everything else

[evita-shelby]

Hi, hello

This is my first request ever, please ignore my spelling mistakes if there's any, I'm French so...

So how abt the femreader /OC (as you want) has an illness and is destined to die but Tommy pursue her and falls in love with her anyway and then she dies and we see how he copes. I'm a sucker for angst.

Thank youuu

You are welcome 😊

I cried so hard i ran out of tp to clean my snot.

Promise

Gif by @manie-sans-delire-x

Cw: death, illness, grief, suicidal thoughts

You hoped he’d forget about you while he was in France, but when he stepped down that platform he was as in love with you as when he had left.

You had broken things off with him before he even left and yet he returned to you as if nothing changed.

No matter how much you tried, Tommy never left your side.

Eventually you had to tell him the truth.

You were dying.

You had a year at most, the tumor was not operable, and it wouldn’t be long before you were dead.

“I can’t leave you, love, not when you need me most.” He had said as he held your face in his hands.

And he hadn’t.

Not when the barmaid showed up and made it clear to all that she wanted him, not when he provoked Kimber and certainly not when Campbell threatened to have the hospital deny you care if he didn’t give him the guns.

Campbell hadn’t expected you to laugh and spit at his face, “Do it, do your fucking worst, Inspector. I am dead anyways.”

You were dying, but you were never going to let Tommy and his dreams die with you.

You had a year.

And you had decided that your last wish was to see Tommy get the hell out of here and be the great man you know he is.

This you tell him as the two of you stand as witnesses for Freddie Thorne and his sister, Ada.

He couldn’t say no to you, he said so as you tied his tie for him and told him to drive you and Ada to the courthouse where Freddie was waiting with his cousins and a rabbi.

“It could be us up there,” he said quietly knowing you’d say no.

“Ask me again in a year.” You love him, and that is why you refuse to tie him to you like that.

Time passes slowly, you encourage him to pursue Grace because he needs the distraction. There was something there, on her side at least.

Not that he budged, said he didn’t need anyone else. Not when he had you.

“I’m going to marry you.” He says the words you feared the most. He did never learn to let go, even when death took those he loved most, he stood there refusing to let go.

“Tommy, I do not want to tie you to me like this. Not like this.” You plead for him to move on weeks later when he takes the barmaid to the races.

“I’m gonna marry you, when you go, I want you to go as my wife, y/n.” he vowed just as you vowed to see him succeed.

You supposed that is what had you say yes.

He wants to do things proper, keeping almost every tradition and custom in place that you find to your liking. Whatever you want for your big day, he and Polly make it happen.

Its sweet and thoughtful you think as he gets the two of you on a table at the Garrison and announced to all that the two of you will be getting married.

He had bought you a ring, a Claddagh ring like the one his mum had worn. Only difference was that the other one was lost in the Cut and yours had a red garnet heart to represent his love and devotion to you.

Tommy was a romantic, no matter what he did to hide it.

You dance in the dark of your room nights later to some old record your mama had since she settled here with your father.

“We could always elope, go somewhere just us and come back like our parents did.” He suggests and you nod.

As much as you’d like to do things properly, you’d rather get the things on your list done before you meet your maker.

Besides, that trip to Liverpool before the war had been lovely and you’d like to see the sea again before you go.

“I’d like that.” You say and that next morning the two of you set off to Liverpool like the wild teenagers the two of you used to be.

The wedding is lovely even if it happens in front of strangers, but the weekend the two of you spend as newlyweds is enough to make you forget your time is running out.

Perhaps when your health becomes worse you could return here, die somewhere beautiful away from everything.

“I wish we didn’t have to go back.” He admits as the two of you lie down on a blanket and enjoy the sun on your faces on your last day here.

“Once its over, we should come back here.” You say as if you knew for sure you’d be alive by then.

Zilpha Lee saw your death in the first chills of December. A black star and blood on Tommy’s heart.

It was late July now.

Only five months left in your clock. And you were going to make the most of it.

And you did, you danced at John and Esme’s wedding like there was no tomorrow. You gave the barmaid a good enough thrashing she never even got to call the police on Freddie and when little Karl was born it hurt your heart to know you would never have this with Tommy.

You wept like a baby in his arms as everyone celebrated down at the pub.

“Promise me you will love again.” You dry your tears and make him swear to live for you.

He cannot die with you, you refuse to let him.

“Don’t make me promise that, love, I’ve only ever loved you.” He shook his head, refusing to even think of a life without you in it.

It becomes the first of October that night.

You can’t hide your illness no matter what you do. A girl from the neighborhood is hired to help you and from your bed you play cupid between the sweet but never spineless Linda and the most unlikely dashing knight, Arthur.

When they finally go out ---with Finn to keep things proper--- it is late November.

And as if by magic, you are bursting with energy enough to leave your bed and make sure there is no loose string left by December 1st.

You are laughing with Polly over something when you see it in Tommy’s carefully annotated diary.

A black star on December 3rd.

He plans on having everything done by then, to deal with Kimber and Campbell that same day and spend the rest of your time on earth in a cottage by the sea.

It was supposed to be a surprise until you answered a call back from the woman renting it.

If only you could live long enough to get there.

But you won’t.

Zilpha had said on the day of the Black Star.

On December 3rd your time was up.

And you had fulfilled your mission, on that day Tommy would have reached the first step towards getting the hell away from here.

Only Polly knows what transpired during that meeting with Zilpha Lee and she holds you as your heart breaks all over again.

“Promise me you’ll take care of him.” You ask her as she holds you tight enough to put you back together again.

“Of course I will, sweetheart. Just like I told Martha Strong I’d take care of her boys and John’s Martha as well.” The older woman promised you as she gave you her Black Madonna.

Its is December 3rd when Tommy leaves the house as giddy as a boy on boxing day.

“After this it will be just us in that little cottage by the sea, love.” He had promised kissing you like there was no tomorrow.

And there wouldn’t be.

The moment the bullet strikes his chest, you collapse at his desk and never rise again.

By the time Jeremiah lets him go, you are gone.

That night, after the undertaker has taken you away to prepare you for burial, he takes your ring, a bottle of whiskey and his gun.

When he pulls the trigger, there are no bullets and he curses you for leaving and refusing to let him leave with you.

He wakes up in Charlie’s Yard, with his aunt and uncle wearing black for mourning.

“I promised her I’d take care of you, don’t make break that promise, boy.” Polly said as she helped him back on his feet.

After your funeral he leaves for the seaside, hoping to have the peace and quiet to finish what he started and yet as he sits there in ghe sand looking at the ring he gave you, he remembers your voice making him swear to live for you.

And he does.

On December 3rd 1922, he returns to the beach with May Carlton now wearing your ring on her finger.

“Thank you.” He whispers to the wind.

[kamiko1234]

IT WAS MOTHERFUCKING LUKE

OH MY FUCKING GOD IT WAS FUCKING LUKE. THE HELL !? HUH ´WHAT ? LIKE; FR !? HIM !? LUKE ? LUKE CASTELLAN !? HE'S THE FUCKING TRAITOR !?

HOW !? WHY !?

I- I feel like flipping a table what the fuck ????? Like wow I had a LOT of outlandish theories but NEVER in my LIFE would I have thought LUKE off all people to be the traitor like- HUH !?

To say this came out of left field for me is to THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE CENTURY. Like, genuinly !? He was so nice ! So welcoming ! Anytime he showed up he gave off good vibes, AND THEN HE'S THE ONE THAT GOES FUCKING TRAITOR !? Like , okay. Don't get me wrong. I get it, I fucking get it. Luke has a point. The gods are a bunch of dicks. I already did a post on here wondering how none of those demigods have snapped yet ! Hell, part of me was EXPECTING someone to snap at some point.

BUT IT BEING GODFORSAKEN LUKE OF ALL PEOPLE !?

I- I- There's gotta be something more. THERE'S GOTTA BE SOMETHING MORE BEHIND IT, LIKE- The whole reason for why I liked Luke so much was him being so nice and (atleast for me) the least likely to turn traitor ! Chronos is powerful, right !? Luke said he visited him in his dreams, even punishing him in some instances. Maybe Luke's simply been brainwashed ! Even Percy says something like that ! Luke was probably brainwashed, or hypnotized or something. An evil clone maybe ! Or a long lost secretly evil twin brother ! THERE'S GOTTA BE SOMETHING THERE; RIGHT ? RIGHT !?!?!??!

BUT ALSO HOLY FUCK HOW THE FUCK IS NO ONE EVEN SEEMINGLY REMOTELY SAD !? LIKE ANNABETH'S SUPPOSED TO BE HIS LITTLE SISTER FIGURE AND ALL WE GOT FROM HER BOILS DOWN TO ; "oh well ig it's would be like him to do that, MOVING ON-"

LIKE I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE THINKING THAT'S A SORT OF FUCKED REACTION; RIGHT !? LIKE, I CAN GET BEHINF PERCY BEING LESS SAD. HE KNEW LUKE LESS BUT ANNABETH !? LIKE- IG SHE ALSO SAID THEY'D HUNT HIM DOWN LATER ON BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD !

A LITTLE MORE EMOTION LADY ; YOUR SURROGATE BIG BRO JUST RAN OFF WITH MOTHERFUCKING CHRONOS.

LIKE; OMFG I'M PRAYING THIS IS SOME MIND CONTROL OR HYPNOTISM OR MENTAL CONDITIONING TYPE OF SHIT. HOW ELSE CAN WE EXPLAIN LUKE'S CHARACTER DOING A COMPLETE 180 !

Y'ALL WEREN'T FUCKING JOKING WHEN TELLING ME TO BRACE MYSELF OMFG. ATLEAST NOW I KNOW WHY ALL THE WEIRD ANSWERS CAME WHEN I TALKED ABOUT HOW LUKE'S MY FAV AND HE AIN'T GONNA BE THE TRAITOR. One hell of a last chapter that was 💀😭

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Ettieeeee I wanna thank the universe for making me stumble upon your blog!!! I'm obsessed with all your fics / drabbles about Richie, he's my hyperfixation rn 😭 if you're open for requests, could you pretty please with cherries on top write something where reader has been crushing on Richie for so long but she thinks he's still hung up on Tiff so she decides to move on and date around for a bit.....but then jealous!Richie pops up 🫠 I go INSANE over jealous!Richie fr!!! Thank you ilyyy ❤️❤️❤️

Awwww thank you soooo much this is so sweet!! ❤️❤️❤️ i love me some jealous Richie so yes!

------

You’d been listening to your date talk about himself for what felt like an eternity. He barely even stopped himself to ask questions about you, so you’d been nodding along while you half-dissociated.

The waitress had even gotten you a second glass of wine without you having to ask, giving you a discreet look of support upon delivery. Not that this guy would’ve noticed anyway.

What was his name again? Jason? Blake? It really didn’t matter. Reason being, none of these guys you’d been meeting could make you forget Richie Jerimovich.

Though of course, there was the painful reminder that he was emotionally unavailable. Or so you thought, given the times you’d heard him speaking about Tiffany with Sugar and Carmy.

You understood, of course, even if it still hurt. Not that he knew of your feelings towards him, but that didn’t matter. It was why you thought moving on was a worthy pursuit… at one point, at least.

You were sitting right by the restaurant’s window facing the street, so occasionally you would notice the passerby outside. Though, only out of politeness, you tried to keep eye contact with your date.

And that way, you didn’t notice that the one that was stuck in your mind was actually on the other side of the glass, aghast.

Richie couldn’t even register the sight of you on a date at first. But when he did, jealousy hit him so fiercely it almost surprised him.

“What the fuck?” He muttered.

In all fairness, what you didn’t know was that he had chickened out of asking you out a few times. He thought he’d heard about you maybe meeting someone, but he’d been too wrapped up with the restaurant’s reconstruction to really pay attention.

Though to his very mild relief, he could see that you were not having a good time. You had your chin resting on your hand, looking like you were about to fall asleep.

Scoffing, ranting under his breath about the random jagoff sitting across from you, he dialed your number on his phone before thinking twice about it.

He saw your back straighten in surprise as you mumbled an apology. You stood up quickly, almost tipping your chair in your haste, and stepped to one side.

“Hey, Richie. Is everything okay?” You said.

To hear your voice was a momentary soothing balm, making him lose a little bit of his edge. Dumbly, he realized he had to scramble for a reason to have called you.

“H-hey, uh, there was a… There was a bit of an issue at the Beef, I need someone to come help, but I couldn't get ahold of anyone! You-you're the first one to answer."

"Oh no, um, right now? I could be there in thirty minutes, I think," you said, making your words a little louder but internally relieved beyond belief to cut this date short. "What happened?"

Richie started to move away, having to rush to get there before you. "Er, it'll just be easier when you get here. It's hard to explain over the phone. Just... I'll see you in thirty minutes, okay?"

"Yes, see you!" you said, biting down a smile as you rushed back to your table. "Sorry, I have to go. Work emergency. You understand right?"

The guy blinked at you, appalled beyond words but mouth opening like a confused fish out of water. He raised his hands as if to gesture what the hell?

You grabbed your coat and your purse. "Thanks for dinner, gotta run, sorry bye!"

------

[quiet-onset]

me and mr. jones

pairing: steve rogers x reader

wc: 9.6k+, sorry

summary: you're with bucky, so why does steve want you so badly?

warnings: smut with a plot, so minors DNI!! unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cheating/infidelity, and slight exhibitionism so pls don't read if that's triggering, steve is a bit of an ass but he has a beard so it cancels out

a/n: tell a friend to tell a friend... she's baaack. but fr, i'm making my comeback. thanks to @brattylyricist for being my beta reader and putting up with how feral i get for thee steve rogers

You hated Steve.

He was pompous, self-righteous, and stubborn. He always had to get the last word in an argument and hated to admit he was wrong. He was certainly and undoubtedly the man you loathed most on this Earth.

But he was also your boyfriend’s best friend. So, when Steve temporarily moved in with you and Bucky after moving back to New York, you made do because you were utterly smitten with James Buchanan Barnes. They’d been best friends for nearly a century — who were you to say no?

Not much changed. Except for the constant arguing between you and Steve, most of them for insanely petty things. Take this morning, for instance. You stood in front of the stove on a late Monday morning making a hearty breakfast for you and your boyfriend. Notice how Steve was not part of the equation.

The boys arrived home from their long run just as you had finished setting his plate on the dining room table. Bucky smiled at you as you poured a glass of juice, pulling out a chair as he kissed you noisily on the cheek. “What is all this?”

“I made brunch. Tony said he’s not especially busy — said I could take the morning.” From your right, you heard a quiet scoff from Steve. “Something to say, Steven?”

“Not at all.” Steve said, biting his tongue. He retrieved a bottle of water from the kitchen, ignoring how you glared at him from behind the partition.

“Well,” Bucky interrupted, “That was very thoughtful of you, baby. Thank you.”

“Of course. I hope you like it!”

“You’re not joining?”

“Still cooking. Oh, that reminds me!” You hurried back to the kitchen, suddenly remembering the pancake still sitting in the pan of the hot stove. You call back to him as you flip it over. “Besides, I’ve been snacking the whole time, so I’m kinda full.”

Steve walked by you and rested against the countertop. He eyed the nearby plate of bacon and went to pick up a slice, but you smacked his hand away. Steve let out an indignant sound as he snatched his hand back, “What was that for?”

“Did you make any of these pancakes?” You asked sarcastically.

“What’s your point?”

You could both hear as Bucky muttered a quiet here we go around a bite of his food, but you ignored it.

“My point is that unless your name suddenly changes to James, none of this is for you.” You replied. “I suggest looking in the pantry for cereal.”

“Seriously? You cooked an entire continental breakfast just to be immature?”

“Oh, I learned it from the best.” You threw a fake smile in his direction, batting your eyelashes. 

Steve scoffed, blood boiling in his veins. He didn’t know when you learned which buttons of his to press to upset him, but you did a hell of a job. Worse, he knew he was giving you the exact reaction you wanted. You wanted to see him angry, to make him upset. It amused you to see the oh-so-great Captain America get pissed off because of your pettiness.

One, two, three, Steve counted in his head, taking deep breaths. He was not going to let you win today. He walked to the pantry and pulled out a bagel instead, making sure to bump your shoulder as he padded over to the toaster. It barely broke his stride, but it nudged you forward, your hip hitting the corner of the counter. Then, he walked back to the fridge and bumped you again, this time almost throwing you off your balance. “Steve, you little—“

“Can you two go thirty seconds without fighting please?”

Bucky’s question hung in the air as you and Steve glared at each other. The look in your eye was intense, angry even. You hated how easily Steve got to you sometimes. His mere presence got you heated, and you dreamt of the day he’d move out. You loathed how smug he looked, almost as if he were taunting you, urging you to keep going. To give him a reason.

Pop!

You flinched when Steve’s bagel popped out of the toaster, grumbling to yourself as you turned on your heel toward the exit of the kitchen. “I’m gonna get ready for work.”

Once Steve was satisfied with his breakfast of a bagel and fruit, he joined Bucky at the table. His best friend shot him an exasperated look, and Steve’s brow went up defensively. “What?”

“Do you have to torment her?”

“She started it! She went out of her way to mess with me.”

“I swear, it’s been a year and a half, and you two still act like children.” Bucky shook his head.

“She is the problem, not me. Just ‘cause you let her boss you around doesn’t mean I will.” Steve knew the comment was a bit harsh, but he couldn’t help it, a scowl etched into his features. “Don’t know how you deal with her.”

Bucky only chuckled as he bit into a slice of bacon. “It’s because I love her, man. She’s the first person, besides you, to see me for me.”

Steve could tell that his best friend’s feelings for you were real. The look in Bucky’s eyes, Steve had only seen once before — and that was back in the forties. His face lit up when you entered a room, and he grinned every time you pecked his cheek. He could never say no to you, never even wanted to. Steve couldn’t understand how Bucky fell in love with such an insufferable brat, but it didn’t matter. You made him happy, so Steve learned to make do.

“Besides,” Bucky continued mischievously, “you have no idea how bossy she can really be.”

Steve’s brow furrowed at the statement. The longer he looked at the smirk on Bucky’s face, the quicker the realization came. Oh, that kind of bossy, Steve thought. He shifted in his seat, feeling hot all of a sudden. Sure, he and Bucky sometimes discussed their intimate lives in the past, but never while in a relationship, and never about you. He lets out something akin to scoff, doing his best to seem unimpressed, uninterested. “Does she at least make it worth being bossed around?”

Bucky leaned forward and lowered his voice, “You have no idea. Nine rounds, back-to-back, in one night. Nine. She’s the only woman I’ve met that can handle the serum’s effect on the libido.”

“Wow, happy ending every night — good for you.” Steve’s response came out with a playfully sarcastic sneer, but inside, he started to feel cramped, heated. Like he needed to crawl out of his own skin to rid himself of the fever. He settled for digging his fingernails into the meat of his thigh, an action that goes completely unnoticed by Bucky. 

Suddenly, Steve’s breakfast was infinitely more interesting than that conversation.

“Well not every night. Got let her rest sometime, y’know?” The brunette replied with a smirk, blissfully unaware of Steve’s need to douse himself in cold water. With that, Bucky stood from the table, taking a few strips of bacon from his plate and dropping them onto Steve’s, right next to his untouched blueberries. “Don’t let her see.” 

As Bucky left to prepare for work, Steve sat at the table. Blunt nails left crescents in his thighs as a shuddering breath passed through his lips. He stared at the bacon — food you’d made just to piss him off.

When you came back into the room, a lilac dress adorning your body, he looked up. The fabric clung to your curves and flowed out at your hips, highlighting the expense of your legs. If you noticed his gaze linger on your thighs, you didn’t mention it. You only glared at him when you saw the bacon on his plate. “That wasn’t for you.”

He picked up a slice, took a bite, and smirked, “I know.”

—

The auto shop was the only place Steve could escape from you.

After he retired as Captain America, he became a mechanic. He knew a decent amount about cars and learned the rest on his downtime. It gave him purpose, work that he could do with his hands. Creating, fixing, helping, that’s what Steve was good at. So the auto shop became like a second home. It was nice and easy, uncomplicated, which was exactly what he needed.

It seemed, though, that complicated always found Steve.

Ever since Bucky had uttered those words to him, the tiniest description of his sex life, Steve’s mind began to wander. You had always been attractive to Steve — he wasn’t blind. But the constant arguments you and he had put him off from having any lewd thoughts about you. But now, with this key piece of information, his mind was racing with the possibility of you.

He found himself wondering how your body would react to the lightest touch, what noises you’d let out. Steve bet they were sweet, a satisfied hum resonating through your heaving chest. But, of course, they’d get higher-pitched, breathier as you got closer to the edge.

Desperate. The word was probably not even in your vocabulary — at least not with Bucky.

You had him whipped. The man gave you anything you wanted without question. For the briefest moment, Steve thought the unthinkable: I could make her desperate.

That was when Steve knew he had to find something to do. Something with his hands, his brain, a problem to solve. That way, he’d be too busy thinking of potential solutions than worrying about his own moral dilemma. So he slid underneath an old, broke down pick-up truck and got to work. 

He finally managed to propel you from his thoughts, replacing each dirty vision of you with thoughts of what parts he needed to order. That, until his phone rings.

He slid from under the truck and wiped his hands on a nearby rag before grabbing his phone. And, of course, it’s you. The woman he loathed, the woman he was fantasizing about, calling his phone just as he managed to get a grip on reality.

He answered in a huff, “What?”

“Before I say what I need to say, just know that I didn’t want to call you.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That fucking attitude. “Then why call?”

“Look, you’re my least favorite option, Rogers.” She added, matching his energy. “I called Tony, but he told me to call Bucky. I called Bucky. He’s wrapped up in a super secret SHIELD meeting that he can’t get out of, and he told me to call… you.”

“Bucky said to call me?” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, knowing that he was about to do whatever she needed him to. For his best friend, of course. What other reason would he have?

“His exact words were ‘Well, if you don’t call Steve, I’d have to get you an Uber and you’d have to leave your car’ so—“

“What’s wrong with your car?”

“It broke down. Won’t start again.”

“Fine.” Steve was reluctant as he gathered his tools and a few spare parts just in case. “You in walking distance?”

“No, I’ll send my location, just hurry up.”

She hung up before he could reply, and he let out an inward groan. Before he could get too angry, he took a deep breath. This was not for you. This was a favor for his best friend. That’s what he told himself when he got into his car and followed the GPS to your location.

Steve pulled up in front of her car about twenty minutes later. He frowned when he noticed another car parked behind yours, and a man speaking to you, from his rearview mirror. As he exited the car and grabbed his tools, he could hear the backend of your conversation.

“C’mon sweetheart! You don’t want my help?” The guy asked with a condescending smirk. “I could fix you up real good, promise.”

“I’m waiting for someone already, thanks.” You told him with a tight-lipped smile, arms crossed over your chest.

“She’s waiting on me.” Steve called out. He slammed his door closed, striding over to you. As much as he absolutely loathed you, he didn’t want to see any harm come to you. He was Captain America after all. Chivalry was practically in his blood. He didn’t see how your eyes widened as he stood beside you, giving the man a hard glare. “You can go now, buddy.”

“Hey, I was just offering my services.” The guy defended.

“She doesn’t need them.”

“What? Is he your boyfriend?”

“Yeah, I am her boyfriend.” Steve’s mouth moved faster than his brain could think. He missed your stunned look, your subtle blink of surprise when he stepped in front of you, shielding you from the stranger’s eyes. Steve stared down at him, daring him to say something, anything else. His final warning is low and menacing. “Leave.”

“Fine, man.” The man stepped back, trying to seem nonchalant, like he wasn’t scared out of his mind. “Whatever.”

Steve waited till he drove away to move, his feet crunching over gravel as he turned on his heel. “Thanks for the help.” He said dryly.

It takes you little time to regain your senses, frowning at his smart remark. “Oh, so it’s my fault I was accosted by some creep.” You replied sarcastically. He ignored your comment, instead walking by you toward the hood of your car. You rolled your eyes and mumbled under your breath, “God, you’re such a prick.”

“Hey,” Steve’s tone was sharp as he popped the hood. “That guy would still be hitting on you if it weren’t for me. You’d think a thank you would be in order.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

“Unbelievable.” He grumbled. “Look, just tell me what’s wrong with your car or stop talking please.”

“How am I supposed to know? You’re the mechanic.” You snapped at him.

Steve could feel himself getting worked up in more ways than one as he looked up at you from where he bent over your car. His glare was vicious as he thought about letting loose on you right there, on the side of the road. Maybe in the car, against it, or — if he was feeling especially cruel — on the rough, gravelly ground. But he counted in his head, one, two, three, four, five, until his heart rate calmed.

He returned his attention to the car, leaving you to watch him in silence. You thought about his words, his voice echoing in your head. Yeah, I am her boyfriend. What possessed him to say such a thing? You tried to convince yourself that he was just trying to help you, to intimidate that creep into leaving you alone.

If that’s all Steve was doing, it didn’t explain why his faux declaration made your heart skip a beat.

You pushed such traitorous thoughts to the back of your head, watching as Steve messed with this and that under the hood of your car. “Do you even know what you’re looking for?”

“It’s broken, I’m fixing it.” He replied pointedly, not sparing you so much as a glance.

“Fine, fix it then.” You huffed.

You leaned against the car, crossing one ankle over the other as you watched him work. It was then that you started to notice the small things about Steve. The small birthmark on his collarbone. The stretchmarks on his bicep. The smooth, fluid motion of his muscles as he twisted and turned different things. It made heat blossom at the base of your neck, so you turned your attention to the gravel. After about twenty minutes, you leaned under the hood with him, watching as he used a wrench to twist something tighter. “Do you actually know what you’re doing, or should I call a real mechanic?”

“No, I’m just smacking things around for fun.” He responded sarcastically. “I’m done now, try the ignition.”

You practically ran back to the driver's seat, raising the key until you heard the ignition turn over with a purr. Just a second after, cool air blasted from the vents, and you sighed happily, sliding down in your seat. “Oh, thank god.”

Steve tried not to watch through the windshield as the AC blew a bead of sweat between the valley of your breasts. He shut the hood of your car and wiped his hands clean with his rag. “Thank you, Steve. I appreciate your help.” He said dryly, leaning down on your car door with the window rolled down. “You’re welcome, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks or whatever. You can go.” You waved your hand dismissively. “I gotta finish running this errand for Tony.”

Steve watched your car pull off with a screech of the tires, knowing that things are getting infinitely more complicated.

—

It’s worth repeating, Steve hated you. So why was he imagining what you looked like beneath that little lilac dress?

He could practically see it in his mind. Beautiful legs that would wrap tightly around his waist. Arms that could so gracefully wind around his neck. Hands that he was certain were soft, especially pressed into his more calloused ones, rough from years of combat and physical labor. He could picture your silhouette like it was burned into his retinas, the shape of the woman he couldn’t stand.

And why did he say he was your boyfriend? It replayed in slow motion, the words falling from his lips as he stood protectively in front of you. Steve told himself that he was just trying to get that creep to leave you alone. As much as he disliked you, he didn’t want some random guy taking advantage of you on the side of the road.

But deep down, he knew that wasn’t why. Something inside him, in the pit of his belly, wanted you. Romantically, he wasn’t sure — but intimately? Sexually? There was no question, he wanted you. He wanted to touch you. To grab your ass by the handful and leave little marks on your neck until he dragged what he was sure were beautiful noises from your lips. He wanted to bury his fingers, his tongue, and fuck his cock inside you until there was nothing left of the both of them. To fuck you deep and raw and primal until you begged him to stop.

But beneath the very real desire for your body was guilt. Loyalty to his best friend. The same blood that boiled with lust burned with shame. How could he think such filthy things about his best friend’s girlfriend? Steve and Bucky had been through hell together and always dragged each other out. Bucky would take a bullet for him, and vice versa — almost had on a few occasions. What kind of person did that make Steve?

An asshole, obviously, Steve thought.

And so he ignored it. For the next three months, he ignored your petty attempts at arguments and all your smartass remarks as best he could. Every morning when you left for work, he made sure to look elsewhere, not wanting to be tempted by how well your clothes hugged your body. He even had a one night stand, an extremely unusual event for Steve.

And even so, it was uneventful. He met a woman down at the auto shop. She was attractive, they flirted and exchanged numbers, and she invited him over. What they wanted was clear, and they wasted no time. He fucked her hard and fast, toying with her clit to make sure she came, before coming himself, filling up the condom she gave him. Then, he left, and they hadn’t spoken since.

And even still, those thoughts wouldn’t leave his head. For those three long months, Steve was tormented by fantasies of you, and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

He laid in bed, dreaming about it. He fantasized about eating your pussy in his sleep. He’d take his time with you, kissing and nipping at your thighs until you begged him, all high-pitched and whiny. Then, he’d take a long, slow lick, entrance to clit, before diving in. He’d draw the ordeal out, pulling away just before you come to suck on your outer lips, just enough stimulation to keep you writhing beneath him. And finally, when you begged prettily enough, he’d let you—

Steve shot up in his bed, panting. His sweat soaked his sheet. What’s worse, his dick was as stiff as a rock, precum staining his gray sweatpants.

He dragged a hand over his face, letting out a quiet, exasperated groan. What am I, sixteen again?, he thought to himself, Having fucking wet dreams?

Steve swung his legs over the side of the bed, deciding that a glass of cold water might help him cool down. He left his bedroom and headed toward the kitchen. Then, he paused, hearing a strange noise. His brow furrowed as he turned on his heel, walking back down the hall slowly until he heard the noise again. And unfortunately, it led back to the one place Steve was dreading.

Yours and Bucky’s bedroom.

Just like Bucky had confided in him, Steve heard you giving orders. 

Go faster, baby. 

Uh-uh slow down, not yet. 

Behave yourself.

If you’re good, I’ll let you come inside me.

Steve couldn’t take it anymore. Every nerve was standing on end as he practically ran to the kitchen, making as little noise as possible. He downed two glasses of cold water, finally feeling himself cool off by the third. He sat on a stool at the kitchen island, waiting for what felt like forever for the noises to stop. Not that he could hear anymore. His heart was pounding in his ears as he tried to forget how you sounded in the heat of the moment. He rested his head on the cool marble and tried to take deep breaths.

But the noises did stop. And you left the room to retrieve water for you and Bucky. But you’re met with Steve, at the island, sitting in the dark. 

“Steve?” Your voice was quiet as it cut through the silence. His head shot up, and you saw his chest heaving. You frowned at him, wondering if he was in pain. “Why are you out here? It’s late.”

“I uh… I couldn’t sleep.”

Your lips parted in surprise, taking in a sharp breath as you hoped that Steve didn’t hear yours and Bucky’s late night activities. Thankfully, Steve couldn’t see you blush in the dark. Without another word, you walked across the room and opened up the fridge. The warm light of the fridge shone on you, and he managed to catch a glimpse of your silhouette. His eyes quickly trailed over your body, which was covered by Bucky’s white t-shirt. Your legs, though, were bare — soft and inviting.

He looked away before you closed the fridge and turned around.

He heard your footsteps pad away, then stop. When he lifted his head again, you were walking over to his side of the island. You didn’t stand too close, just an arm’s length away. Your voice was missing your usual bite when you spoke.

“A couple months ago, when my car broke down and that guy was bothering me… Why did you say you were my boyfriend?”

Steve almost froze at the question. What was he to say? He took the briefest moment to think, to find some statement that, at the very least, seemed neutral. “Just wanted to get that creep to leave you alone. I’m not a monster.” Steve said. He followed it with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant about the ordeal. “Besides, it’s not like we like each other anyway. Why make a big deal out of it?”

You nodded. “Just curious.”

Just then, the same thought crossed both your minds: Maybe it is a big deal.

Steve’s brain short-circuited with that thought, and suddenly, his hand was moving. Before he could think, his thick fingers reached toward you and touched the skin of your bare leg. Guilt settled in the back of his mind as his hand curled around your upper thigh, lightly gripping the flesh there. When your lips parted to suck in a sharp breath, he pulled you closer still.

The air changed. It was thicker, heavy with the weight of the forbidden desire. No matter how deep the breath you took was, it would never be enough to satiate the tension of that moment.

He tugged lightly, slowly, to make sure you had the option of pulling away. That way, he’d know if his feelings, his desire, were just in his head. But you never did. You willingly shifted your weight as he pulled you closer, moving to stand between his legs. His hand reached up just a few inches to catch the edge of the shirt you wore — of Bucky’s shirt. He twisted his index finger around it to pull it taut, releasing it just as quickly. 

“Baby!”

Bucky’s voice called from your bedroom. You practically jumped away from Steve, like you’d been caught. Without another word, you swiped the two long-forgotten water bottles and hurried back to your room.

—

You’d never had a harder time sleeping than last night. Especially not after sex. But you tossed and turned all night, thinking about him. The man you loathed most on this Earth. The man you let touch your bare skin, even if for just a moment, while your boyfriend waited for you in your shared bed.

Thank God Bucky slept like a rock now.

The next morning, when you arrived in the kitchen, Steve was already sitting at the island with a bowl of cereal. You stopped in the doorway when his eyes fell on you. It was like someone had pressed pause on your lives, his hand even stilling with a spoonful of cereal, milk dripping from the convex side. There was nothing either of you could say to make what happened the night before okay. Nor could anything make you forget. So, you both just stared, waiting to see who would speak first.

Then, Bucky approached from behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your shoulder. He started to greet you both, but stopped for a moment, looking back and forth from you to Steve. “You two are not having a staring contest right now.”

You watched as Steve blinked a bit and shook his head, returning back to his breakfast. You let out a breath, forcing out a little laugh. “Well, not anymore. Steve blinked.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head before brushing past you. “Just when I thought you two had turned a corner.”

You have no idea, you thought to yourself. The thought made your stomach turn uncomfortably. The weight in the air was nonexistent to Bucky, and that makes everything so much worse. Not even in his nightmares would his best friend and the love of his life betray him in that way. But even with Bucky in the room, all you could think about was how the callouses in Steve’s hand felt against your bare skin. The moment was short and fleeting, but it felt like a lifetime.

The hour that breakfast took was uneventful, save for a few passing glances between you and Steve. Bucky led the conversation, as usual, asking about everyone’s plans for the day. Steve planned to work on the old Mustang in the garage. Bucky, on the other hand, had to go into work to finish some paperwork. You had the day off and planned to just relax — which now meant avoiding Steve.

“I’m going to go on a run first though.” Bucky noted, his stool scraping against the floor as he stood up. “Anyone want to join?”

Steve was quick to agree, “I could go for a run.”

“On a thirteen mile run? No thanks.” You quickly answered with a playful scoff. You tried to tell yourself that the frown pulling at the corners of your lips was because you’d miss Bucky — not because Steve would rather go on an excruciatingly long run than be around you. Definitely because you’d miss Bucky.

“I’m going to head to work right after the run, so it’s just you and Steve for a couple hours.” Bucky told you. He pecked you on the lips three times, waiting for your frown to return to a smile. When it did, he kissed you a bit longer, nipping on your bottom lip. “You two play nice.”

Steve cherished every mile of that run with Bucky. He counted the minutes, glancing at his watch every so often. Even when their run was winding down, and they approached the house, Steve offered to go longer. “Another mile or two?” He’d asked Bucky.

“Can’t, gotta head in.” Bucky panted. He noticed the look on Steve’s face but chalked it up to disdain for you. “It won’t be that bad, Steve. It’s a few hours.”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

And then Bucky hopped in the car and headed to work. Meanwhile, you curled up with a book and a mug of tea and sat in the living room, hoping that Steve would just use the back entrance. Of course, you were not so lucky.

Steve entered the house, still in his white t-shirt and joggers. He was planning on changing into some older clothes so he could work on the car, but when he saw you, he stopped. He looked at how you sat on the couch, knees drawn up and resting to the side. By the looks of it, you were halfway through your book, but he still managed to tear your attention from the action on those pages.

“Hey.” It was all he could manage, a single word to fill the empty, potent air.

“Hey.” No snark in her response, he thought. Noted.

“What, um, what are you reading?”

“Can’t you see the cover?” You shifted in your seat, free hand resting on your thigh. You fell back on your defenses, sarcasm and pettiness, to maintain your control. “Or maybe you can’t read, is that it?”

There she is, the fucking brat. Steve rolled his eyes. “Yes, that’s obviously the issue here.” His legs carried him to the other side of the couch. Just resting his legs, he convinced himself. A quick rest before going on with his day.

His eyes trailed over the cover of your book, seeing the cartoon image of a man and woman holding hands, along with big pink bubble letters that spelled out the title, Me and Mr. Jones — obviously some sort of romance novel. Then, Steve got sidetracked. He watched your hand that rested on your bare thigh, your thumb stroking the skin there absentmindedly, when he realized.

That’s the same spot he touched you last night. It’s where he grazed your skin, where he wrapped his hand around to pull you closer. You were stroking that spot so delicately, and you didn’t even notice.

It drove Steve wild. He needed to think about something else quickly.

“What’s it about?” He asked.

Your eyes widened. You curled in on yourself, turning your body to face Steve but pulling the book toward your chest. “Nothing, mind your business.”

Finally, something else for Steve to focus on. It was rare that he had the upper hand, that he could embarrass you. An eyebrow perked up as he smirked at you from across the couch. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That.” He waved his hand around at you with a chuckle. “That reaction. Whatever you’re reading, it can’t be that bad.”

“You wouldn’t like it.” The words came out quick and defensive as your eyes returned to the page. Then, Steve did the unimaginable. He leaned across the couch and snatched the book from your hands, laughing as you immediately started trying to retrieve it. “Give it back, you asshole!”

“C’mon, Y/N.” He teased. He held you back easily, keeping the book far above your head. “I just want to see if I’ll like it. Let me read it!”

He laughed as your protests became less and less aggressive, finally devolving into pleas. It was too late though. Steve started to read. Aloud. 

“She…,” He paused at the passage, his vocal cords pulled tight as he read. “She kissed him softly on his neck, nibbling on his Adam’s apple.” His gaze returned to you, noting how you avoided his eyes. “Do you usually read things like this, Y/N?”

Your voice was soft when you answered, taking on a much smaller tone than he’d ever heard from you. “Just give it back, alright?”

His eyes trailed over you, at how you rested on your knees beside him on the couch. You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes, embarrassment clear as day in the faint tint of your skin. It was a new emotion he’d never seen in you. You always had the upper hand, always made the situation turn out in your favor, always got what you wanted. Now, watching you reach over to grab the book, he smacked your hand away again. He was going to make the most of this moment. He wanted to show you what it felt like for someone else to control the situation.

So he kept reading.

“Nathan pulled her back by her hair, holding her still so he could dive in for another kiss. It was desperate, deep, a reflection of the control that was slowly slipping from his grasp. Rebecca managed to pull back for air and gasped. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’ She urged, biting back a moan.”

“Steve, c’mon.” You pleaded quietly, toying with the hem of your thin cotton shorts. “I get your point, just gi—”

“But he just wraps a hand around her throat, squeezing softly. He was…,” Steve paused as his eyes skimmed ahead, “He was past the point of caring. All he could think about was her body, her noises, her pleasure. Nathan should absolutely not be kidding Rebecca like this, touching her like this, but—” He nearly choked on his own breath, eyes locked on each and every minute squirm of your body, on the way you shied away from his gaze. He finished the line from the book in a low whisper, “But that only made him want her more.”

You both knew what was happening. It was the loudest silence you’d ever heard, the only sound being your quiet heaving breaths. It was a silence that reeked of disloyalty, a sweet temptation that was almost too good to ignore.

During that silence, Steve realized that he understood exactly how Nathan felt. Like the character from your book, Steve was running out of patience, out of self control. He couldn’t find the strength to move away from you, and if you didn’t move soon, he was going to do it. He was going to betray his best friend. He was going to take what he wanted from you. His last line of defense only came when he saw your eyes slowly look up. He noticed the quick pause you made at the evidence of his arousal beneath his sweatpants, the soft fabric straining against his growing bulge, and he’s two seconds away from losing it.

“Y/N, if you don’t move to the other side of this couch right now, I won’t be able to stop myself.” Steve’s warning was slow and rough.

And suddenly, it’s all too real. In so many words, he’d confirmed that he had these feelings too. The same conflicted feeling that pounded against your chest every day for three months. An identical increased heart rate, just like when he said he was your boyfriend. He’d been thinking about you, too. When you finally met his eyes, they were unlike you’d ever seen them. Dark and greedy, pupils already blown out, leaving only a thin blue ring. 

You tested the territory softly. “What if I don’t want to?”

“Move.”

The singular word was more like a growl. One last chance at stopping this, at saving your relationship with Bucky.

Instead, you scooted closer. Just enough for your knee to brush against the outside of his thigh. You leaned over and reached across his lap, taking the long forgotten book from his hand. He looked almost relieved, thinking that you were going to take your book and return to reading in solitude. But his hands clenched into fists when he heard your soft voice once more.

“‘I don’t care.’ Nathan panted as he bit down on her earlobe.” You read softly, slowly, making sure every word sinks in. “‘We’ll deal with the consequences later. Right now, I have to have you.’ Neither he nor Rebecca had the chance to protest before Nathan… before Nathan slid ins—”

The passage was cut short when Steve pulled you closer by the nape of your neck, his lips pushing feverishly against yours. Your surprise lasted for but a moment before you melted into him, and your eyes fluttered closed.

His hands squeezed at you, at the back of your neck and at your hip, wanting you closer. One hand snatched the book away and threw it somewhere behind the couch. Just as quickly, Steve’s hands pushed you backward, your back hitting the fabric with a soft thud. He didn’t hesitate to pull your legs apart, slotting himself between them as he leaned over to kiss you once more. You gasped at his sudden manhandling, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, drinking up every little noise that fell from your lips.

His hand slid up your back and into your hair, pulling you away for the briefest moment. He could feel every nerve standing on end when you tried leaning back in to kiss him again, desperate to feel his lips on yours. Still, he held you back by your hair, groaning at the little whine you let out. The tip of his nose just barely ran up your throat as he breathed in and inhaled the raw scent of your need. 

“Why couldn’t you just fucking move, huh?” 

He growled out his question, mostly to himself. There’s a tiny voice — caution, loyalty — nagging at him to stop. That making out with his best friend’s girlfriend was wrong. That thinking of all the ways he was going to bring you to the edge of ecstasy was immoral. But Steve’s eyes were glued to your every movement, to the way your back arched and how your hands clutched onto his white t-shirt. And he can’t stop. Steve was the Nathan to your Rebecca. He had to have you.

Still, you silently contemplate the question as well. Why didn’t you move? What about him was so infectious, so undeniable that you needed him to touch you, if only to know what it’s like? He licked and sucked at your throat. His rough hands gripped at your outer thigh, pulling them close to his hip. Every movement was so sure, so certain. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it — the thought made you squirm beneath. 

The shameful thought that crosses your mind breaks your heart: Bucky never touched me like this. She should be mortified, embarrassed. 

Instead, her hips buck into Steve’s.

“Thought about this for so long.” He murmured against the sensitive skin of your neck. He bit down, making you cry out, before soothing the spot with his tongue. “Dreamt of doing the filthiest things to you. And then last night, all those fucking noises.”

You tried to hide your burning face by covering yourself with your arms, but Steve was quick to pull them away. “That why you’re always such a brat? Never been put in your place?” He asked, his tone a bit condescending.

It’s shameful, the way your mind jumps to Bucky, to how he pampered and spoiled you, even in the bedroom. Even worse was the desperate mewl you let out at Steve’s tone, shaking your head.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl.” Steve mumbled, pressing wet kisses down her body. Down, down, down, until he was kissing the waistband of your cute little cotton shorts that always drove him crazy. “We’ll fix that attitude right up.”

You counted yourself lucky that you lifted your hips in time for him to yank your shorts and panties down in one swift yank. You were sure that he wouldn’t have hesitated to tear them off of you. There was no time for you to feel bashful or shy about bearing yourself to Steve — as soon as the soft fabric left your skin, his hands were pushing at the back of your knees, up and out, so he could get an eyeful of your glistening pussy.

“Fuck.” He was entranced, mouth falling open as he pushed his index finger past your lips, through your juices. “All this for me, pretty girl?”

“Mhmm.” You hummed as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Use your words.” His eyes caught yours as his finger just barely brushed your swelling clit, and you knew it wasn’t an instruction. It was a warning.

You bit back the urge to say something snarky as you normally would, knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to deny you what you wanted. “‘S for you. It’s all for you.” You moaned softly.

Steve could see the reluctance in your eyes and chuckled to himself. He was going to enjoy this. Maybe that was why he was so attracted to you. Because you were such a smartass, a brat. He liked that you fought him, taunted him, teased him. That meant that there and then, with you squirming below him as he licks through your dripping cunt, tonguing at your clit, he could break you down.

He saw right through that tough, bossy girl facade. He was going to tear you down, destroy you, then build you up again. Even if he never got to touch you again, he wasn’t going to let you forget that he could reduce you to a quivering, moaning mess.

A dream come to life is the only thing to describe it. Steve buried his face in your cunt like it was oxygen and he, a suffocating man. His stubble stung deliciously as his tongue flicked back and forth over your clit. Then, when your moans and whimpers became more frequent, more high-pitched, he’d back off — drag his tongue down to your opening to drink up the juices he’d pulled from you so effortlessly. Even when you buried your fingers in his hair, trying to pull his tongue back to your clit, desperate to come, he just pinned your hands down by your hips, continuing to lick, suck, and tease.

“You don’t come until I say so.” He mumbled into your pussy, his beard drenched in you. “Now, keep these legs open, pretty baby.”

When his tongue returned to your soaking core, you swore you were going to explode. The pleasure was almost torturous, twisting in the depths of your belly like it wanted to rip you apart from the inside out. Instinctively, your thighs started to tighten around Steve’s head, and he let out a moan against your swollen pussy lips. The vibrations almost overtook you, but he pulled away before you could fall into bliss, letting go of your wrists to smack you hard on your inner thighs. “What did I just say?” He said, his gaze dark as he stared at you.

“Can’t help it.” You admitted softly, a whimper escaping your lips when one of his strong hands stuck between the valley of your breasts and up to your neck. “Need it so bad.”

“Do you? ‘Cause you haven’t even asked me nicely. You can’t want it that badly.” He feigned sympathy for you as he crawled back up your body, lips brushing against yours as he spoke.

“I wanna come.” You whined, brow furrowed in desperation.

“You should’ve thought about that when you were being a smartass.”

Before you could complain, he tugged you up by his grip on your neck, pulling at your limbs until you were sitting on his lap. Your mind took a minute to catch up to Steve’s manhandling, but he regained your attention when he pulled his t-shirt off. Your eyes trailed over his torso, over the thick muscle and strong pecs that you suddenly had an overwhelming desire to squeeze.

He snapped his fingers, “Hey, eyes up here.” You almost feel embarrassed by how quickly you followed his instructions, just barely shrinking under his smug gaze. “If you want to come, you have to work for it. Earn it.”

At first, you weren’t sure what he meant. Hadn’t you earned it by now, you thought. Lying there with his tongue pushing in and out of her cunt, his lips sucking on your clit, without being allowed to come seemed like torture enough. But when he shifted his hips beneath you, pressing his clothed dick into your puffy folds, you gathered his intentions.

You moved your hips forward once, experimenting with the feeling. And when you let out a much louder moan than you anticipated, you suddenly understood how far he’s willing to go. The soft fabric of his sweatpants brushed across your already sensitive pussy, leaving the faintest tinge of a burn on your skin. You could feel the heat of him, feel him twitch beneath you as you ground your hips desperately against him.

All the while, Steve looked on with a smirk. He could practically feel the reluctance evaporating from your body. He saw the way your shoulders drooped, the way your head lolled and your eyes almost rolled back in your head. He kept careful watch of you, listening as your moans got more desperate, even bracing your hands on his shoulders to grind down harder. But he stopped you, slowed your pace, leaving you dangling off that edge with a whine. 

In response, he let out a smug chuckle. “Did you think it’d be that easy? You’re not getting anything until you beg.”

Beg? You hadn’t begged for anything in your life. Not with your parents, not with any of your exes, and certainly not with Bucky. That was where you drew the line. You just wanted him to give you what you wanted. Without thinking, your hands drifted down his torso, reaching for his waistband. You hoped that maybe if you could touch his cock, just once, he’d give in and fuck you.

Before your hands could reach their destination, he snatched up your wrists in one hand. He tugged you forward so that your pussy was pressed firmly against his shaft beneath his pants. His eyes bored into yours, and you suddenly wondered when he became this intimidating.

“That might work on your little boyfriend, but it won’t work on me.” He gritted out. “You’ve got one more chance before I lose my patience.”

Steve should have felt guilty for saying that. He should have paused and stopped what he was doing. But he didn’t. Objectively, it was wrong, but his dick twitched in his pants nonetheless. Nothing was going to stop him short of your saying no. He was going to utterly ruin you for other men — including Bucky.

You’d truly underestimated just how long he was willing to edge you. He kept the same routine each time. You ground your pussy on his clothed cock until there was a large wet patch on his crotch, a mixture he was certain was mostly you with a bit of him. He’d wait longer and longer each time, letting you get closer and closer but never letting you fall over into your orgasm. You lost track after the fifth time.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You were wound so tight that you were sure you would explode from the tiniest touch, if only he’d let you. Steve even added on to the heat coursing through your body, cooing meanly at the desperate tears building in your eyes. At last, you whimpered the word that he’d been waiting to hear, “Please.”

Steve’s brow perked up, “Speak up, pretty baby. Can’t hear you when you mumble like that.”

“Please.” You’re louder this time, clearer, tension rolling off your back as you succumbed to him. “Please, I need to come.”

“Doesn’t sound like you’re asking.” He teased.

“Please, can I? Can I please come?” It was then that you finally let go of all defiance, giving in to Steve. You didn’t want to be a smartass. You didn’t want to be a brat or make him angry, like you usually did. Then and there, all you wanted to do was let him make you come. A tear fell down your cheek as you begged, and he cupped your cheek, brushing it away with his thumb.

“There she is. All obedient and compliant. Just needed someone to fix that attitude, huh?”

He smirks at the way you nodded wantonly, loving how absolutely wrecked you looked. Now that you’d finally given in, he’d give you what you wanted. He was a man of his word, after all.

He pulled you off of his lap to which you’d closed your eyes and let out a whine, “You said—“

“I know what I said, pretty baby. I’m gonna make you come, don’t worry. Gonna make you cum till you’re begging me to stop.” He told her, bending her over the arm of the couch. Suddenly, his hand was in your hair tugging your head up. Your back arched as he leaned over you, his lips against your ear. “He could walk in any minute now.”

Your eyes shot open as you realized he had you facing the front door. Neither of you knew when Bucky would be home. Stop him, a voice called from the back of your mind. Don’t go any further. Don’t do this. Then, you felt the head of Steve’s bare cock pushing through your folds, your juices leaking onto his shaft.

“And you’re still gonna let me fill this tight pussy up, aren’t you?” You could hear his hand slide over his cock, spreading your wetness over the shaft.

Filthy. Wrong. Immoral.

“Yes.” You sighed out prettily.

Stop. Degenerate. Selfish.

“Let me hear you say it, pretty girl.” His tip nudged at your entrance.

Bad. Depraved. Shameless.

“I want you to fuck me.” 

Too late.

His cock stretched you wide, pulsing steadily as he pushed deeper inside, letting out a long moan. He used his knee to spread your legs wider, and the tip knocked into your G-spot. Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm built quicker than expected. Pleas began to fall from your lips without hesitation. “Can I come, Steve? I can’t hold it — please say yes!”

“Go ahead, pretty baby. Come on my cock.”

Like his voice controlled your body, your cunt fluttered around him. You let out a loud moan, crying out his name. If you had your wits about you, you might’ve been worried about the neighbors hearing. But you could barely hear your own voice, ears ringing as your body quivered. The pleasure crawled up your spine, exciting every nerve along the way. Had it not been for Steve’s hand in your hair holding up upright, you’re sure you would’ve collapsed.

“Shit.” Steve let out a groan and leaned back a bit, his hands pulling your ass apart to get a better view of your twitching pussy drooling all over the length of him. “Better than I fucking imagined.”

There was no chance to gather your bearings before he started thrusting into you, deep and slow. He was reaching so deep inside you, punching places with his cock that you didn’t know existed. All you could do was take it, your pussy gripping him like a vice.

“This what you wanted all this time?” He leaned over your body to mumble in your ear. “Haven’t been properly fucked in so long, have you?”

Your cheeks burned at how easily Steve was able to see through you. You only responded with a loud whine as he bit down lightly on your earlobe.

“Been reading those dirty little stories to get your fix. Me and Mr. Fucking Jones, hm?” He let out a teasing chuckle. “You won’t need those books anymore, pretty baby, I got you.”

The knot in your stomach was wound so tight, you could already feel the ache in your core. You were shocked, stunned that you could feel so sensitive after only coming once. But that was exactly what he wanted — overstimulated from the start. When his cock started passing over your G-spot with every thrust, you reached a hand back, pressing it weakly against his hips. “‘S too much!” You moaned, twisting your neck to look at him with wide, pleading eyes.

“Uh-uh, this is what you were begging for, baby. You can take it, c’mon.” He pulled your hand behind your back, using his grip on you as leverage for his thrusts. A deep groan vibrated through his chest when your cunt squeezed around him, your ass bouncing off his thighs. “That’s it, you can do it. Tell me you can take my dick.”

You keened at his praise, whimpering as his tip pounded into that spongy spot inside you, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm. “I c-can!”

“You can what, honey?”

“I can take it!” You moaned, fingers clutching onto the fabric of the couch. “Oh my god, please don’t stop!”

“Good girl.” He pressed harder on the hand behind your back, watching your spine curve in a deeper arch. “So fucking pretty. Gonna come again for me?”

You couldn’t even manage to hold it back. Just hearing the words good girl sent you into a spiral, pussy spasming uncontrollably as your thighs shook. Cloud nine didn't even begin to describe the euphoria that washed over you. Each wave was stronger than the next, and Steve’s nonstop assault on your G-spot didn’t help. You vaguely heard him talking you through it — aw, that feel too good, pretty girl? that’s right, keep squeezing my cock, fuck you’re so wet — as you pushed your hips back, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“So fucking tight.” He gritted out, punctuating each word with one hard thrust of his cock. You felt his cock twitch inside you, and he let out the smallest growl. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Want it.” You moaned, body jolting with each thrust. “Want you.”

Suddenly, his arm was around your neck, pulling you up so his chest was pressed against your back. “This is my pussy now, baby.” He panted, his breath hot in your ear. His blood was pumping too fast, too hard for him to feel bad about what he said. “Day and night, you’re fucking mine, you got that?”

Your eyes were glued on the front door, even as his words made your pussy flutter. The tiniest shred of remorse seized your heart, and you shook your head, hands gripping his forearm around your neck. A few tears spilled down your cheeks, a pitiful mix of guilt and desperation. “No.” You whimpered as your eyes fluttered closed. “No, I c-can’t. What about—“

“Don’t lie to me.” He growled, watching your body shiver when he pressed two fingers hard on your clit. “You might feel bad — Hell, I might, too. You’ll kiss him, you’ll sleep next to him, you might even love him. But this cunt? She’ll fucking drool at the thought of my cock, won’t she?”

You didn’t answer. You both knew the answer, only confirmed by how your cunt pulsed around him. He rubbed your clit in tight, fast little circles, wanting to hear you admit it. “Won’t she?”

You squealed, the oversensitivity taken to a new level as the pain and pleasure attempted to rip you apart from the inside out. You whimpered and nodded — too late for shame, for modesty.

“Say it, baby. Say it like a good girl.”

“I’m… I’m yours.”

His cock twitched inside you again, bringing you closer to your orgasm. His arm pressed your throat, only slightly cutting off your air. You were lightheaded in the best way, feeling the pleasure creep up on you as Steve groaned in your ear. He told you to say it again, and you did. You kept saying it, kept telling Steve that you were his, that your pussy was his, until you could barely think of anything else. Even as his thrusts started to get sloppy, you moaned Steve’s name, feeling the start of your orgasm take over.

“That’s it, pretty girl, milk my cock dry. Take all my fucking come.”

Even still, under all the noise — the slapping of skin against skin, the squelch of your pussy as his cock drove in and out of you, your moans, his filthy words — you heard the click of a lock.

Your eyes only caught his for a brief moment before the pleasure crashed over you, before Steve turned your head and pressed his lips against yours, groaning as he felt you shake and come undone beneath him. All teeth and tongue, you whimpered into the kiss as you felt spurt after spurt of warm come fill you up. He thrusted hard and deep, pushing his cock further inside you until the come seeped back out, dripping down your thighs. As his tongue glided across yours, he knew he never came harder in his life. And, perhaps, unfortunately, neither had you.

You were panting into each other’s mouths, riding out your highs, when his voice called out your name, then Steve’s, quiet and hurt. His best friend. Your boyfriend. Your Bucky.

Fuck.

[kurt-hummel-eat-your-heart-out]

okay okay.i KNOW it’s my fav(John Bender) again but I just a loved your fic!(same person) but what if reader and John are in love with each other and after a serious and horrible(abus!ve situation) event that had happened to John. They run to an abandoned house where they stay together.(t4t as a bonus because I HC that John is trans if that’s fine?) thank you!

Hello againnnn @screamfome . IK I WAS GONE FOR A MONTH I am sooo sorry. Hopefully since it's summer I'll have more free time lol. Also yes I love this concept, you Fr have the best ideas:D also this is so outsiders coded LMAO like the abandoned house just reminded me of that.

Transmasc John Bender (The Breakfast Club) x Transmasc reader

Disclaimer/warning: this goes into John’s home life, which as we know isn’t a good one. Abusive family members, frequently mentioned physical violence, transphobia, smoking (it’s John), Just read at your own comfort level.

Approx 4.1k word count. I was on a ROLL lol

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It had been a long day. It wasn’t just you, even the hallways at school had felt even more lifeless today. If that was even possible. You sighed, leaning back into the mattress beneath you. You barely remembered a thing after your head hit the pillows, so tired you were practically dead.      

The darkness that awaited you carried you to a soft, dreamless slumber. You were out like a light, so much so that you weren’t even bothered by how cold it was in your room this time of year. Unawakened bliss awaited you, welcoming as ever.    

No sleep that good can last forever. You felt as if not even a minute had passed since you’d fallen asleep. And yet, here you were, disturbed into consciousness. All you could hear was a distant ringing noise, rhythmic beats emanating from a few rooms away.    You begrudgingly turned over on your side, an irritated gaze cast towards your alarm clock on the bedside table.     

Twelve-thirty in the morning, who the hell would call at this time? You decided to let the phone keep ringing, it was probably just a mistake. But it went on… and on… and on.      You groaned, turning back onto your side to try and sleep. But the mystery caller just wouldn’t let up. You sighed, annoyed out of your mind.      

You trudged into the kitchen, the landline still ringing. It was dark, so of course you accidentally walked into the side of the dining room table. Your hip ran into the corner, a dull stabbing feeling ran into your side. You had to use every ounce of strength to not shout out in pain.      

You were fully prepared to curse at some prank caller, insult their mother, the works. You picked up the phone off of its hook, giving a sharp exhale through your nose so whoever this was knew you were pissed off.     “Uh, hello?” You mumbled, the irritation was evident in your tone.      

“Oh thank fuck you picked up.” It took you a minute to recognize who this mystery caller was. The voice was familiar, you just couldn’t pinpoint it in your half-awake state.   

“Wait, wait, Bender is that you?” You were glad it was just him, but still a little pissed that he was calling you in the middle of the night. “John, why are you calling me in the middle of the night…” You loved him, but you were not awake enough for this.       

“I- I don’t know. I’m in trouble, I need help.” The shakiness in his voice definitely caught your attention, it wasn’t something you were used to hearing in him at all. You could hear his heavy breathing from the other side, he sounded scared and out of breath. You had to find out what happened        

“What happened, sweetheart?” You lowered your voice so as to not be too loud for anyone possibly listening in on his side. You dropped the annoyed tone, replacing it with a softer sort of sound.         

“I don’t know- I just,” You heard a frustrated sigh from his end. It sounded like he couldn’t even stop to gather his thoughts, it only made you more worried for him. “Can you come pick me up?” His quiet whisper made him sound like a scared little kid. Seeing this scared, vulnerable side of him just made your heart ache.       

“Of course, I’ll be there in five. Okay?” You told him firmly. If you let it show that you were scared for him, it might make things worse. You always tried to be a source of stability for him, no matter what the situation was.       

But things had never been so bad that he’d asked you to come get him. You were freaked out, to be honest.     

“Okay, I love you.” He maintained the whisper. He just sounded so… small right now. It was so unlike him, it almost sounded like someone else.      

“I love you too, see you soon.” And with that you hung up the phone, rushing to find your shoes and keys. You weren’t going to bother putting on different clothes, it might take too long. So, pjs it was.    

The sleepiness still had a light hold on you as you tripped over nothing a couple times. The only thing you could think to do was go to the kitchen sink and splash some water on your face. The icy tap water hit your face like a train. If you weren't awake before, you definitely were now.

You rushed outside to your car, fumbling with the keys. Your car wasn’t new by any means, but it worked. You were just lucky you had one, you felt bad for John not having one. You knew how some nights got, especially when his dad got home late. 

As you drove, all you thought of was your hatred for John’s father. He was an absolute dirtbag. You could recall countless stories of John’s childhood, how loud his house always seemed. How much he just wanted to get away.      

After a few blocks you could see his house. A slightly run-down two story house near the edge of town. The chipped and faded gray paint had a blue cast to it in the moonlight. At night, John’s house looked as sad as his eyes were during the day. If you took more than a glance at him, you could see the pained look in his eyes.      

He never let anyone see past his rough exterior of course, but you could still sense it. You pulled up to the side of the road, next to his yard. You didn’t even have a second to put the car in park, you could already see John climbing out of a window. The one in his room, you assumed.       

His room was on the second floor, so it had a bit of a drop to it. He had the bottom half of the window pushed up. He steadily shifted towards the ledge, nearly giving you a heart attack. He jumped down to the ground with ease, a practiced motion from numerous nights of sneaking out.       

He practically ran to your car, not wasting a second. You blinked and he was right in front of you in the passenger seat.   

“Drive, please.” His voice came out hard and raspy, like he was out of breath. You didn’t even have time to check on him, to see if he had any new marks.    

“Okay, okay. I’m driving.” You raised a hand, a little startled by how abrupt he was. You hit the gas, not really sure where you were driving off to. You decided to just head down some of the wooded backroads away from town. 

There were these old trails that had been blocked off outside of town. Technically, the land belonged to the state, but it wasn’t public ground. You and John had always ignored the ‘Do Not Trespass’ signs stapled to the trees near the edge of the forest. How could the two of you not take advantage of such a perfect hiding spot?   

You two had a theory that it was some old property the state had seized and had no idea what to do with. It wasn’t big enough to be a park itself or close enough to one to be added to another.    

You turned onto a rough gravel road, just off of where your town stopped and the highway started. It wasn’t the smoothest drive, but you couldn’t complain too much. It was a secluded area, far away from anyone or anything to bother you.    

You had stayed silent thus far, giving John a minute to himself. His labored breath had only let up so much, you could still hear how on edge he was. You glanced over at him, seeing the slight shake in his shoulders. His arms were crossed upon his chest, his eyes fixed on the road ahead of you.    

“Johnny? You okay baby?” You took your right hand off of the wheel, laying it on his knee. This seemed to snap him out of his daze. 

He flinched slightly, his gaze snapping over to you. You sensed the sudden jerk of his head in your direction, which made you retract your hand. Had it been too soon? Had whatever happened shaken him up that badly?

“Sorry.” You gave a quick apology, beginning to move your hand back to the wheel.

“No, no, it’s okay.” He reached for your hand, grasping it firmly. You could feel the way he shook like a scared animal. “Stay with me. Please…” He held your hand in his own, leading it back to his knee. You let him place it there, giving his hand a soft squeeze. This seemed to ease his nerves just a bit. You could hear him let out a deep sigh as he squeezed  the top of your hand back.

You continued down the gravel road into the woods. You drove deeper into the trees, the shadows your headlights made twisting their shape as you passed them. The forest was always a little creepy, even more so in the middle of the night. 

You passed by countless maples and oaks, keeping your hand on his knee. You decided to stop after a couple minutes, you were deep enough into the woods now.

You put the car in park, switching off your headlights. You then turned to John, finally getting an opportunity to look at him properly. The look in his eyes absolutely broke your heart.

He was like a dog on the Fourth of July; his eyes wide and scared, a slight shake to his body, and an expression that made you wonder if he was about to cry.

“John?” You leaned across the center console, getting a bit closer. “Can I take a look at you?” You whispered softly, just loud enough to be heard over the car engine in the background. He finally made eye contact with you. His gaze softened ever so slightly as he saw the unease written all over your face. You weren't going to ask him what happened, not right now at least. Although it would burn questions in your mind, you wouldn't until you knew he was okay. Physically, at least.

He gave a small nod, still looking you in the eyes. You withdrew your hand from his knee. You took his hands in your own, checking for any signs of a fight. The skin of his knuckles were clear as day, no signs of blood or bruising in the slightest. 

He turned to the side to face you, giving you a better opportunity to look him over. Your gaze traveled up his arms, turning them over to check the backs of his arms. You frowned when you saw a bruise starting to form on his elbow. John was quiet as you inspected him. He was even somewhat surprised when he saw the bruise on his arm, soon frowning as well.

He turned his face away from you, no longer wanting eye contact as you looked him over. This was too embarrassing for him. Yes, it was a regular occurrence. And yes, you were always there to take care of him after a situation at his house. 

But it was different this time. It was more painful to look at himself, to look at how visible his weakness was to him now.

The strain of thoughts in John’s head were currently babbling on about how pathetic and weak he was, almost akin to the drunken babbling of his father not too many hours ago. He couldn’t help the way his breath hitched at a particularly brutal phrase that echoed in his head.

You immediately looked up from his arms, barely hearing the little choked sound that came out of him.

“John?” You whispered his name, it was like a request for him to look you in the eyes again. But he knew he couldn’t. He couldn’t let you see how weak he was, how pathetic he felt now.

“John, can you look at me? Please?” You kept your voice lowered. You were soft and caring in every aspect, you knew something was different this time. He slowly turned to face you, reluctantly so. The sight of tears pricking his eyes and the red mark under his left eye caused you to let out a quiet gasp. 

Your immediate reaction was to pull him closer to you. Your instincts told you to protect him from whatever had happened, even though you knew that wasn’t entirely possible. Time had passed, what had happened couldn’t be reversed no matter how hard you wanted it to.

You felt John’s arms around you almost immediately, holding you back. He hadn’t gotten a look at himself yet, but he could assume what you’d seen. He didn’t have to see to know what was there; he could feel it.

You sat there holding him for a minute, almost feeling like crying yourself. He didn’t deserve this. You were scared for him. You wanted to make it all better. A million thoughts buzzed through your head, loud uncontrolled. You pulled away from him for a moment to get a better look at the mark.

You brought a hand up to his cheek, making sure not to directly touch the red spot. “Did he do this?” You both already knew who you were referring to. And you both already knew the answer to your question. You just needed confirmation from him.

“Yeah.” John’s voice was still just above a whisper. It hurt you to see him so reserved like this. Usually after something happened with his dad, he would quickly find something for the two of you to do to distract him. Something like goofing off at the grocery store, driving around with the radio on too loud, or just having a smoke together. Now his silence spoke volumes.

“Here, why don’t we go on a walk. It’s a nice night.” You suggested, still keeping that same gentle tone of voice. He nodded quietly, and with that you took your keys out of the ignition and got out of the car. 

You met John on the other side and had neglected to notice the fact that he only had a t-shirt. You were right when you said it was a nice night; it was a nice night for the fact that it was October. You cursed quietly to yourself before taking off your hoodie and offering it to him.

“Shit, sorry, it’s cold. Here, take this.” You didn’t really give him a chance to respond before you placed the hoodie in his arms. Freezing wasn’t going to be an option, and you would make sure of it.

“You sure?” John quirked a brow at you. He was probably going to refuse your offer and say something about you getting cold, but you didn’t care. 

“Shh, just take it.” You assured him, smiling softly at him and waving your hand dismissively. Without another word, he slipped it over his head. His usual cocky attitude had been set to the side for now, so he complied.

You linked an arm around his, taking his hand in yours. His hand was warm like it always was, even with the chill of the night. You two walked down the beaten down dirt trail, deeper into the woods. The moon shined brightly enough for you to be able to see where you were going, but not without stepping on the occasional stick or dead leaf.

You let a comfortable silence hang between you two for a few minutes, for John’s sake. But soon your concern got the best of you, and you were tempted to know what exactly had happened.

“Johnny, baby. You wanna talk about things?” You turned to look at him as you walked along the trail. You were fully prepared for him to say no, it was understandable considering how quiet he’d been thus far.

“Maybe… I don’t know. Jus’ give me a minute, maybe…?” He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. 

“You don’t have to, just thought you might want to.” You squeezed his hand, reassuring him that he didn’t have to talk about what happened with his dad. 

“No, no, I think I want to. Could help since it’s you.” He squeezed your hand back. You couldn’t help but smile at what he said. Ever since he started opening up about what he went through, he seemed a little less uptight. Around you at least. But sometimes you notice it with other people, too.

He nudged you with elbow, motioning to something in the distance you two had been approaching. A look of surprise and confusion came across your face as you looked at the old, dilapidated house in front of you. How had you never noticed this before? You supposed you and John had never walked this far into the forest, but still. It was odd.

“Wanna check it out?” He asked. There was that little sense of adventure back in him. You smiled at him, leading him towards the house.

“Oh hell, why not. We could crash here if there aren’t any squatters that beat us to it.” You approached the old wooden door, pushing it open with ease. You cringed at the way its hinges creaked and groaned. It was an awful sound, but you toughed it out.

You called out, trying to see if anyone was there already. John checked a couple rooms, finding no one. With the confirmation that nobody else would interrupt you two, you sat on the floor, against the wall in the main room.

“Alright, c’mere.” You waved John over, letting him sit in front of you between your legs. He was facing away from you so he could lean back into you, letting you hold him tightly. You sighed contentedly, just relieved that he was in your arms instead of in his house.

“So,” You began. But before you could say anything else, John held up a finger to signal for you to pause. You obliged him, closing your mouth. You watched him pull out his cigarettes and lighter. He flicked the lighter to life, pressing the flame to the end of a cigarette. Once he was certain it was lit, he put his lighter back in his pocket and brought the cigarette to his lips. He took a long drag, closing his eyes as he took in the warmth of the smoke.

He exhaled after a moment, leaning back onto your chest with a sigh. You wrapped an arm around him as he took a few more drags. He leaned into your touch, which only made you want to hold him tighter.

“So,” John’s voice was firmer this time. He was grounded now, bordering on relaxed. It was an unfortunate coping mechanism to have, but smoking really did seem to help him.

“As you could definitely already tell, the old shitbag hit me again.” He sighed. You nodded in understanding, not really surprised but livid nonetheless. You didn’t show how pissed off that made you, John had probably already been around enough pissed off people today. Instead, you rubbed his arm soothingly.

“Can I ask what it was about this time?” You wanted to be considerate of him still. This was fresh, you weren’t going to press him for a story. You wouldn’t have to though, as he nodded in response.

“I was makin’ dinner; didn’t feel like going out and getting something. Not too sure I got the cash for it either…” He sighed again, more smoke in his exhale. “The fucker comes up behind me all like 

‘Oh look at you bein’ independent. Man of the fuckin’ house, huh?’, 

and y’know I could tell he was drunk.” He paused to take another drag of his cigarette. The impression of his father was pretty accurate, you had to admit.

“And I’m just standing there, tryna do my shit. I say

 ‘Dad, I’ve got a burner on. Don’t try anything.’, 

‘cause I don’t want him to burn the fuckin’ house down.” He ran his hand through his hair again before letting his hand settle on top of yours. He interlocked your fingers, settling them back on his stomach. You kept his hand in yours as you listened to him.

“Then he goes 

‘You know it’s a shame you gotta be so butchy ‘bout everything. If you weren’t playin’ pretend all the time, you could make some guy real fuckin’ happy. Least I could be proud of ‘ya for bein’ a wife, not whatever the fuck you’re doin’ to yourself.’” 

John repeated his father’s words, laced with just as much cruelty as the man who first said them. The words of his father disgusted you, and you could tell things would quickly go south from here.

John went on. “So I say 

‘Dad, don’t say that.’ 

And then he grabs the back of my shirt, throws me backwards, like, away from the stove. And he just starts yellin’ at me, saying all this shit about how he’d treat me better if I was normal. If I just dropped the act and lived like everyone else does.” Johns voice got a little quieter as he spoke. You could tell this got to him. It hit him like a punch to the gut. 

You knew he hated the idea of getting hitched, even if he got to be a man in the relationship. Too many outside opinions and expectations, he said. 

You cringed at his father’s mention of ‘dropping the act’. At this point, neither you or John had any doubts about yourselves or each other. It was hell existing as it was, but standing your ground about who you were was a whole other thing. You were proud of him for not suppressing who he was, but at the same time you couldn’t stand how he was treated for it.

“Mhm. God I hate that…” You agreed with him, letting him know you were still listening. He took another drag of his cigarette before continuing.

“So he gets me near the wall, like almost throws me against it. And I think that’s when my elbow got hit, now that I think about it. I don’t know, it’s a little blurry,” He paused to let out a small yawn. You could imagine how tired he was, with it still being the middle of the night. And the obvious.

“And I just wasn’t in the fuckin’ mood, right? So I didn’t say shit, didn’t look at him, nothin’. I kinda just took it so I could get it over with. And then he hit me." You knew that was coming but it still broke your heart to hear. The pained sound of his voice came through, you could tell he was so tired of his father. He was tired of all the shit this man put him through. You held John a little tighter, feeling a sudden surge of protectiveness over him. 

"Oh baby, I'm so sorry," Your voice held such sincerity. It was such a comfort to the man, who needed it desperately. Your soft way of speaking to him and the way you held him, coupled with the cigarette, had him feeling so far away from the situation. Like he was safe from it now, like nothing could even hurt him. You leaned down to press a kiss to his cheek, sweet and considerate.

"I've got you now, I can make it better." You assured him of your presence. Even though you could only temporarily make things better, you would try to ease his pain for as long as you possibly could. You ran your fingers through his hair methodically, occasionally playing with a few strands. The sensation could do wonders to put him at ease. You could feel him relax as he finished the last of his cigarette. He snuffed it into the ground beneath you, then flicked it away. He sighed, turning around slightly in your hold so he could face you.

"Hey. I love you. Don't forget it." He sounded a little more drowsy now, like he could fall asleep in your arms any minute.

You leaned it to place a soft, tender kiss on his forehead. A goodnight kiss of sorts. "I love you too. Never forgetting it. Ever." You couldn't help but smile as you saw his face again. He looked adorable, all tired and warm, like he felt safe. 

You'd stay happy like this for the night, holding John in your arms and protecting him. You'd be there again and again, no matter the reason. No matter how bad he was hurt, you'd be there to make it better.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hope you enjoyed! Next time I won’t be so late for a request Omg 💀 finals week will do that to you lmao.

But anyways thank you so much for reading and send me a request if you feel so inclined. It’s summer and I’m bored so I’d love to hear some ideas:D go check out my pinned post if you wanna see what fandom I write for!

[i-wont-run-this-time]

Cold is the night. Lonely till dawn. Cry for the light. For the love that won't come.

Summary:

Reader sees Eddie and immediately wants to see him again ...

1,833 words

TW// 18+

Author's notes :

English is NOT my first language so I apologize for any mistakes

There he was. She had seen him several times at this same dive bar and hoped he’d be there tonight. She didn’t even know his last name, but something about Eddie was pulling her to him. She was too shy to introduce herself. She knew he probably wouldn’t even glance over her, but she still dressed in her sexiest clothes. He didn’t seem to be the type of guy who’d like her. Being a fat girl in this hell of a state was brutal. She was used to the rejection at this point. She even stopped looking at guys at all. He made her disobey that rule she had for herself. 

The first time she saw him was a month ago. She came to Hawkins, Indiana with two of her friends. They were looking for new conquests. They heard from a colleague that some guys were hot and easy to get in this small town. She joined them to keep an eye on them. They could be easily distracted when cute guys were around. She didn’t want them to get into any trouble, even though it wouldn’t be the first time she’d need to get involved. That night Eddie’s band was playing. Their gig was finishing as they got into the bar. She only saw him slide his guitar off his shoulder and it took her breath away. He was the most beautiful man she ever saw. Her friends pulled her into the back of the bar to a table and all night she would try to steal glances at him. He was drinking with his bandmates on the opposite side. He was making overdramatic gestures to them, making them laugh. He was full of energy, she had to control herself to make sure she wouldn’t just stare at him all night. He never looked her way. Not once. 

The following week they went to the same bar, her request despite her friends' complaints that it wasn’t that great. She insisted on getting there earlier. Hoping they would catch the band. They got there in time to see the last three songs of their set. Her friends weren’t into metal and went straight to the same table as the previous week. She sat facing the stage. Her attention was dedicated solely to him. She was mesmerized by the way his hands were picking the strings on his guitar. His stage presence was too big for such a small venue. He was meant to be on stage. His long brown hair was bouncing, following his every move. Before the last song of their set, they introduced every band member. Eddie. She learned his name that night. When they left the stage she groaned. Her friends took notice and thought she was bored of this bar. They insisted on leaving and she didn’t know how to convince them to stay in that bar. She went to the bathroom to buy some time. She wanted to see him before she left, he was probably in the back with his band. As soon as she got out her friends circled her and they walked out of the bar. She was about to protest when she saw him. He was standing near the door, his back to the wall, a cigarette in his mouth. He was looking at the sky. He was smiling. She had never seen him so close and her heart started beating faster when her shoulder barely rubbed his arm. She didn’t dare look back at him. 

The week after that was harder to convince her friends to go to the same bar for the third time. They were confused as to why she was even suggesting it in the first place. She decided to admit some of the truth to them, that she wanted to see the band. They finally sighted and agreed to see the band, but to leave right after it to get to another bar. She was very excited to get to see him play again. She took the time to do her makeup and her hair. She knew it was silly, she wasn’t even gonna talk to him, but she wanted to look at her best just in case he’d look at her. When they got to the bar they were so early that the band wasn’t on the stage yet. They sat at their usual table and her friends started scouting the area for guys to hit on. It wasn’t very crowded so the exercise took less than a minute. Finally, a man made his entrance on the stage and announced the band. She had to put a hand to her mouth to make sure the sound wasn’t heard. The band playing wasn’t Corroded Coffin. Her friends were thrilled to be able to leave the bar early. They went to another bar, the one where they finished the night the week prior. She was miserably bored until her friends came back with two boys. They were invited to a party and asked them to go. She knew she wasn’t part of their plan but she was a package deal, she came with her friends. They made their way to the house of someone named Steve. The two boys who were not subtle with their flirting kept making themself look cooler than this Harrington, he used to be a popular kid and now he was a loser working at a video store. She liked movies and the clerks at her local video store were her friends. She was already liking this Harrington. The house was in the woods, had a pool and she knew this dude was rich. They got inside where music was playing loudly, pop music, she rolled her eyes. Her friends already disappeared with the two jerks. Her night was about to be long. She heard laughter and she followed it. Three people were talking in the kitchen and laughing. One had luscious hair, one was younger and was wearing a cap, and the other was Eddie. They heard her and stopped talking to look at her. It was the first time Eddie was looking at her directly and she nearly collapsed. The guy with the hair opened his mouth to talk but one of her friends got to her before anyone could talk. Their other friend was in trouble. Thankfully the rescue mission was easy and it was all a misunderstanding but it was enough to convince them to leave. She was disappointed to go but she knew she’d feel better knowing her friends were safe. 

Her heart was broken when her friends decided to take a week off their adventures to Hawkins. She considered leaving alone but chickened out. She spent her time mopping in her room reading romance novels and listening to metal records. Her friends kept asking her what was wrong but she blamed her period. How could she tell them that she was having feelings for a man she never talked to? 

That brings us to now. She was hoping his band would be playing again. When her friends told them they had a date with the guys from the party at the dive bar she nearly cried of joy. She bought new clothes for the occasion. She knew their visits to the town wouldn’t happen often once college would start again so she had to try. After doing her hair and makeup her friends whistled and told her how hot she looked. Hopefully they weren’t lying. She was feeling more confident than ever. When they got into the bar she saw the jerks from the party right away. Her friends squealed as they hugged them. She looked around to look at the crowd and spotted the two guys who were talking with Eddie at the party. Her hope got up. Maybe he would really be there tonight. The first notes hit her in the guts and there he was. 

================

There she was. He had seen her a few times before. Only in glances. She was at this bar watching his set and watching him. He could see her watching him, from the corner of his eyes, as he was talking with his bandmates. She even was at Harrington’s party. He never got her name, he asked around but no one knew, not even Steve and it was his party. The previous week he looked for her in the venue but she was nowhere to be seen. His bandmates and friends were laughing at him, saying he was looking for a ghost, an imaginary girlfriend. He knew she was real, Steve and Dustin had seen her too. HIs brain wouldn’t be able to imagine someone like her. She was beautiful. Her smile was contagious, she was always with her two same friends. He never saw her talk to other people than them. Tonight she was standing next to some asshole who was in the basketball team back in high school. He was hoping she wasn’t with one of them. She deserved better than these jerks. He wouldn’t let his chance pass this time, he knew she wasn’t from Hawkins and he didn’t want to risk to never see her again. When his set was over he went backstage quickly before heading back into the bar. He found her sitting at her usual table around her friends, the jerks nowhere to be found. Her eyes grew wide as he got closer to the table. It was now or never. 

=========

He was walking straight to their table, she was panicking inside, she was thinking about running out of there but with her poor abilities, she was sure she’d fall over and humiliate herself. “Good evening, ladies, I hope you liked the show.” His smug smile made her stomach turn. How could someone be so pretty? Her friends smiled at him politely and replied a vague answer, they were lying, they hated metal. Eddie never looked at them, he was looking at her. His eyes pierced her skin. She wasn’t able to look into his eyes, afraid she would drown in them. His big brown eyes were too inviting to risk it. “What about you, pretty?” 

Pretty? Was he talking to her? She dared look at him,his smile was contagious. “Me?” She asked, incredulous. He laughed softly. “Of course you. I was hoping I’d see you again. You made quite the impression at the party you know.” Did he notice her? “I did?” He laughed again. “Do you always answers in questions?” She blushed. He would think she was stupid now. Why wasn’t she able to be her usual self around him? He seemed to turn off all her brain cells. “I’m just messing with you. Do you want a drink?” She nodded. He offered his hand, and before she took it, she looked at her friends to make sure they were ok with it. They were smiling wide and made gestures for her to leave. She laughed and put her hand in his. 

[mrsnancywheeler]

I know this is my third time in your inbox within like 10 minutes but I’m listening to ‘Casual’ by Chappell Roan. Like “Knee-deep in the passenger seat and I’m eating you out is it casual now?” (I changed them slightly) and “I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to the bathroom” and I’m changing the next lyric from parent to partner but “your partner at the table, you wonder why I’m bitter” and “I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself” because he let himself get so attached to you knowing it was just sex

you're all good pookie, I love hearing your thoughts 💋

billy didn't expect to like you as much as he did and expected to just stop seeing you after you've fucked the first time, but next thing he knows he's calling you up about future shows, to ask you if you wanna come to the studio and the rest is history.

except he still insists you're just a groupie, he calls you his girl, but not really his girlfriend (over a year in, when he's in a really good place he tells you he loves you and you're basically unofficially dating anyways) but he really does say that it's casual. you're just his favorite girl to fuck, he likes your personality, for so long he's sending such mixed messages fr.

and he hates that he can't just let you go, that he needs your presence, it was just supposed to be one time and now he wants to see you every damn day.

and like from reader's perspective

"my friends call me a loser cause I'm still hanging around. I've heard so many rumours that I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch."

"you said "we're not together" so now when we kiss I have anger issues"

"and I try to be that chill girl that holds her tongue and gives you space. I try to be that chill girl, but honestly I'm not"

"I hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell"

[hikennosabo]

#tristampparty day 7, episode 7: wolfwood

this is another episode i've watched multiple times, but mostly just the first half for Livio Reasons. once again... LET'S GOOOOO

i've seen ppl say this is razlo at the start of the episode... i wonder... he is more razlo-like in his movements, and he starts yelling a lot... but his expressions are still livio-like, i think... i mean he is more expressive BUT he's not grinning like razlo usually does? sigh... see the problem is that we ALSO have a level of EoM brainwashing (and whatever the fuck else is going on) on top of everything which throws a wrench in trying to figure things out. I Just Wanna See My Boy.

i love vash holding his gun backwards and using it as a bludgeon and i love going frame by frame to get cool screencaps like this 💖

wolfwood vial count: 4

at the very least, by the time of this next scene, it's definitely livio and not razlo because he's mumbling about "catching up" again which is a livio thing

when i saw the corresponding manga panel for this my brain neurons activated so hard LOL i wonder even more how orange will adapt razlo... since originally livio was trying to catch up with razlo. which i love and think is super interesting. so what is orange planning? ...is livio even aware razlo exists at this point...?

oh also livio looks a bit older here. which once again has me wondering about the timeline. the way the experiments were presented with rollo and nicholas, it looked like they were just on that table forever. as in there were no breaks in between. so... when is this? how long is it between livio volunteering himself for EoM and the experiments on him taking place?

i think it's cute that nico bumps into him :(

let's take ibuprofen together

i wonder who these people are... i thought they might be the EoM soldiers that razlo killed, but those aren't EoM uniforms... it looks like the prison uniform wolfwood was wearing... wolfwood tried to run away, so it makes sense that he wouldn't be the only one, although the phrasing "stand in our way" more implies they tried to stop the operation altogether. but... hmm... they just had regular goons as guards at the time of wolfwood's escape attempt. livio is special... would they really give him a job like guard duty?

CHAPEL JUMPSCARE

razlo sweetiepie there you are!!! mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah

HE'S SUCH A FUCKING DRAMA QUEEN HE'S SO FUNNY

since zazie is the one talking, our attention is drawn to them, so i'm glad i paused on this because the fact that legato is also looking up at wolfwood and smirking is so funny to me. EYES ON THE ROAD BESTIE!!!!

this line is always so funny to me. shonen protagonist ass

i love the scene of vash at the spaceship controls, the animation when he's working the keyboard is so smooth. hmmm, it also reminds me of wolfwood's introduction episode in 98... serves the same narrative purpose of Vash Knowing Things He Shouldn't about spaceships

i love that wolfwood thinks shooting the base of the cannon will do anything. like that's the first thing he tries. shoot first ask questions later i guess

going frame by frame on scenes of legato because i'm unwell... his eyebrows are surprisingly thick! and his eye color is grey... it was gold in 98... oh, i just noticed his eyelashes are light blue!! cute!!

i just think this is a handsome angle for him. his facial features are so pretty and delicate

this is why he buckled his seatbelt :)

... i need to stop posting legato pictures

no because what the hell is this

wolfwood vial count: 5

episode 5 had me asking about the wind... legato asks zazie if they were the one who caused the sandstorm (which they deny)... could it be... is it possible...?

my dumb ass watching this for the first time: damn it's so sad that livio is dead and now they're even gonna use his corpse for nefarious purposes :(

vash's plant markings are so pretty fr <3 orange was big brained for this too

everyone always points out the episode title card being a gut punch but THIS was an unexpected one:

this is how wolfwood is credited this episode and because i'm insane i immediately had to go back and check - this is also how he's credited in episodes 5 and 6: as "nicholas d. wolfwood/nicholas the punisher". in episode 4, he's only listed as "nicholas d. wolfwood". haha ouch!

this post ended up being a little less substantial than expected LOL but we'll soon be getting into the episodes that really give me psychic damage so :^) looking forward to it!!