#with some random bits thrown in here and there
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anguishedlurker ¡ 2 days ago
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Chapter two coming UP, on Ao3 HERE as well.
~
So at first she'd lost her new notebook, which was all sorts of awful. She just got that, dammit! And had wrapped something up in record time, too!
She knew she'd left it on her nightstand, she couldn't be convinced otherwise either, but where did it go!? She was gone five fucking minutes!
All that wasted time and effort, with the haunting sense she wasn't alone. And in Amity, that meant so much more than it should!
But whatever. She could deal. Or at least pretend to until she could harass her brother, the most likely culprit for this. She hoped it was burning his eyes, sticky fingered little....
So she'd crawled back into bed and curled up, and set aside the steaming rage to be hashed out at the dinner table over cereal. Mom usually wasn't well humored to her making things public, but dad was still mad enough about the riding lawnmower that he'd be ready to take reasons to pile-drive the no electronics mandate for even longer. Wrong move, turd.
And curled on her side, she fell asleep after some not that set aside rage. The reckoning would be afoot come six am.
But she'd woken up suddenly, or at least... she thought she did. Maybe. Unlikely, now that she thinks about it.
All she'd heard as the folds of her comforter revealed nothing was chuckling, before a voice she felt like she should know spoke.
"Pardon the interruption, but I think this story needs its star actor, yes?"
Suddenly, she was thrown in someone's arms.
Under different circumstances she'd aim towards making fun of their clothes, but, well...
It was undeniably a well put together fantasy costume. The sort of thing she'd pick out for one of the guys, if they'd have the intelligence to get her help for any costume parties.
Though, it was definitely sparking a familiar mental image right now...
Arms were wrapped around her, hoisting her back upwards enough to get her feet under her and peel back from them a little bit.
Which is about where it all made some sense.
His hair was messily styled; the right balance of non effort while still being meticulous to the trained eye. His fur pauldrons framed his startled look as the cape swished back with all the sudden movement.
And above all else, he was holding her...
Officially, pinch her. This was too much to wake up to.
Or not, given the scene... 
It was straight out of her notebook. She was the only being in existence that knew what was in there, and this wasn't something her brother could rig up. He'd be a freak to try doing something like this, besides.
It's not like you can slap a white wig on Mikey or Dash and call it good, this was clearly Phantom in front of her, and this simply had to be The Evergreen Field!
Phantom- the prince- shifted from her, looking  over her form extremely carefully.
Right, right, it's weird and strange for some random girl to appear and be enthused at him.
Hell, what were his lines? It can't be that hard.
"Ma'dam, I do believe that's a new one." Phantom tittered, just so slightly breathless.
"An entrance for the age. Although... perhaps..." He trailed, shifting his arms up to her hands.
"Lady Manson may well keep the top spot." He clicked, seemingly extremely put off.
That... wasn't it, but it was close enough!
"Oh sir, how curious that makes me of this wild lady Manson!" She quipped, giggling.
Hey, no, wait. She knows that last name. Why's that name in her book?
Maybe... She's read before that the brain will pull from people and things it knows in sleep, so that's gotta be it.
Because if this is real... 
Frightening thought..
~
("I know you can hear me. You wouldn't dare not be listening in to my thoughts if  only to make fun of me more. We can discuss this, and come to some sort of peace.")
("Don't you like it, child?  She seems so fond  of you, it'd be a shame denying her her fantasies!")
("I know you know I know, you're making fun of me and that is bait. Ha ha, make me flip over being the valiant white knight prince in one of your stories, get her outta here you damn creep!)
("Oh child, this one isn't mine. I took the liberty of polishing it up some , but this story is all hers... Won't you make her dreams, her fantasies, come to... such life?"
Smug bastard speaking in riddles, struggling to finish his own goddamn sentences.
Or... No. Wait. This cannot possibly be this straight forward. Oh, what a mess this is!
His tongue was only slightly unstuck though, meaning he was still going to have a very bad time with speaking normally.
But god, her surprised enthusiasm was clearly waning to concern and fear.
""Ma'dam, I do believe that's a new one. An entrance for the age. Although... perhaps... Lady Manson may well keep the top spot."
No, no, no! That should've been ,,I haven't seen an entrance like that since a friend of mine crashed the chandelier into a ball"!!
Not that that was an entrance, but still!
("Unhand my tongue, wretched puppet master.") He spat, cringing as Ghost Writer cackled. Not even his projected thoughts were safe?
"Oh sir, how curious that makes me of this wild lady Manson!" She laughed, bouncing back to enthused and looking at him like there was no danger going on right now. For a split second her smile tightened, but it was gone as fast as it appeared.
"A fair lady friend of mine, who's of no relevance presently. Did the fall hurt?" He pressed, trying to ignore how the words tripped over his lips ever so lamely.
He was super gonna kill Ghost Writer a second time for this one, mark his words!
"Nope! I'm a-okay here, mister Phantom." She grinned, pleased with his attention. Fucks sake…
"Such a fall could certainly harm any-"
"Sheesh, lay off! It was just onto you, sir." She laughed, shoving him lightly and peeling off of him to look at the sunlit field.
She swayed slightly, her own eagerness to stand up properly and keep on staring, thankfully dragging her eyes off of him and looking excited at the damn horse.
This was going to be a big migraine, and it hadn't even really started! The anglerfish would be better right now, at least innocents wouldn't be with him!
("I'm completely innocent of all crimes, and you need to let her go no matter what you think you're going to accomplish.") Danny shot at Ghost Writer, gritting his teeth into the absurd grin Ghost Writer was clearly typing onto him for this.
The clicking of the typewriter halted, Danny's hopes indulging a doomed little dream before whatever overwrought wit Ghost Writer had could be dropped onto him.
("Nah.")
Nah? Just nah? Uncreative much!
The keys resumed, and the smile on his face didn't get to drop as Paulina went and stumbled over her own feet, stand- ("You did NOT give her kitten pumps in a fucking grass field! You did NOT in fact do-")
("What of it, child? Besides, this is her choice! It's what she imagined herself dressed in!") Ghost Writer snapped back instantly at him, the type-writer pausing seconds after as Paulina seemed to freeze on the spot with Danny's hands moving to steady her.
("Why do you know women's heel types, devil child?") Ghost Writer asked.
While he sounded sincere in asking this, Danny didn't trust that information to stay as idle curiosity. His own words could and would be used against them both to who knows what sorts of effects.
"Madam, are you certain you feel alright?" Danny tried pressing, ignoring Ghost Writer with a pointed mental shove between them.
("Suit yourself child. It won't get you out of this to be oh so petulant to me.") Ghost Writer huffed, continuing to write.
"Yup!" She chirped back, smiling like there wasn't a manic reality altering ghost puppeting this whole strange situation.
The horse very conveniently made noise, and Danny faintly wished Sam was here to be a better social example than his pathetic attempts could ever be.
But then there'd be more swearing and violence if she had actually been with him, so maybe it was better in the short term that she wasn't to cause them hell.
"Well my lady, if you insist on your good health then we should be quick to exit this place, before something else happens here." He said, sharply gesturing to the horse. 
("I can fly and carry her ya loser.")
("Bold of you to try and debate the horse.")
"Ahh, but we haven't really done... Yeah, sure." Paulina said, cautiously agreeing. 
Feet! Lift! From ground! Fly! Fly, goddamnit, fly fly!
“Do what? I find there little to have done.” Danny asked blankly, watching her wobble.
Too many lectures from Sam about the variety of girly shit her mom had tried to put her in left him with far too much knowledge about death traps, formally known as the dreaded high heels, to let him be comfortable with her wobbling around in a grass field. His limbs refused to obey his attempts to reach out to Paulina to help though.
“I find it’s not really important now.” She snipped, approaching the horse to mount it.
To Paulina’s credit she had clearly ridden horses before this weirdo kidnapping, not struggling as Danny looked away.
“You seem embarrassed, my good sir. Why’s that?” She asked, clearly only half serious.
Time ticked slowly as Ghost Writer rewrote his totally witty comeback to her.
“While a pretty dress, I find that they’re bad for hiding a woman's undergarments.” He grit out past Ghost Writers influence.
Paulina slowly turned red and nodded.
(“Is it too crass to say I don’t want to see her underwear in full brazen sight? This horse is absurdly tall compared to us and it’s pretty logical to say.”) Danny pressed Ghost Writer, greatly annoyed.
(“Prince charming cannot say the word panties.”) Ghost Writer staunchly informed him, rude too.
(“Okay. But I wasn’t-”) +
(“Don't lie to me.”)
Danny did not grace that with an answer, watching as Paulina shifted around.
(“Okay, genius, now get me on the horse.”)
(“Can you not ride? I thought that you’ve been on-”)
Danny gave the mental equivalent of a hard stare, not one for this nonsense.
His limbs moving on their own never got any easier than the first instance, the anglerfish a distant memory of a better run in with Ghost Writer.
“Now my lady, might I now ask your name?” Danny asked, letting Ghost Writer take charge.
(“Two ‘now’s? Run out of words?”)
(“Shove it, you brat.”)
Paulina was busy wrapping her arms around his waist as they mocked each other, not yet giving an answer for her name.
“It’s just Paulina, my good sir Phantom.” She muttered through his over fancy clothes, sounding family embarrassed to say it.
“Pretty enough. Prettier most names.” He reassured, making the horse start forth.
“Thank you for your kind words, but I don’t think-” She attempted, squirming as she spoke up.
”Pretty enough to announce to the ball.” He continued, cringing as he realized.
Today was gonna be so, so painful.
I've been Isekaied into Paulina's Novel?!
Welcome to the fic for the EctoImposion 2024 event! I was paired with @thebooo-merang for this wonderful fic, and you should go check them out! And check out the ao3 posting HERE
After an incident with Box Ghost solicits a fight with Ghost Writer, Ghost Writers out for revenge. And Paulina has a convenient little fanfiction that Ghost writer could use. Now Danny just has to survive it, with a starstruck Paulina in tow.
The first chapter doesn't especially need warnings, as everything remains cannon typical. It's under the cut!
~
"Get back here!" Danny shouted, ready to be done with wit for today.
"I, THE BOOOX GHOOOST, WILL-"
"Piss off Ghost Writer!" Do you just break into random lairs in search of weird boxes!?" Danny screeched, trying to dive after a flying notebook.
"I, THE BOX GHOST, WILL-" Box shouted over Danny, waving wildly as he went and sending even more boxes and books flying back and forth.
"RUIN WHAT LITTLE TRUCE I'VE GOT GOING WITH HIM!" Danny cut back, struggling to grab books mid-air with one arm and blast Boxy into submission with the other.
"THE BOX GHOST HAS NO NEED FOR LECTURES ON YOUR INTERPERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS! PREPARE TO BE DESTROYED!"
Danny was gonna kill him this time!
~
Boxes and books rained over the town, causing havoc and mild property damage to the unprepared. Paulina could only huff and puff as she bolted across the open street from shop to shop, trying to find somewhere to camp out while Phantom dealt with the box menace, trying to keep an eye out for whatever storefront Star had managed to find for herself.
Another keeper kept their shoulder into the door as she pushed, and bitterly she cursed them out. She probably didn't get any sympathetic glances through the wood door, but whatever! Rude ass motherfuckers locking out innocents while there was an attack!
It was tempting to keep under the eave, but beyond being mere cloth too much was getting tossed around- plenty enough room for something to slam in sideways and get her then!
God! One good day is all she wanted right now.
Though a few more after wouldn't go amiss...
There! The geek shit shop was probably going to let her in! Maybe!
She didn't care, actually, she'd punch through the glass if she had to! Take that, losers!
First, she needed the mental psyche up to dart across the road again. Three, two, one, go!
The owner, or possible customer, waved behind the glass as she ran.The door opened and closed near instantaneously on her entry.
The sound of Phantom yelling at The Box Ghost dampened as the bell rang, and the store owner gave her an uneasy smile and gestured towards the windowless back. 
“Everyone’s in the back. Might be cramped by now, but there’s a lot of shelves to sit behind.” He nervously informed, eyeing the glass windows.
The casual thumbs up sent him away as she bent slightly to wheeze out the adrenaline.
Yeah, cheer takes some stamina, but adrenaline really messes up her rhythm!
Breath caught, it was time to pack in with the other unlucky idiots back here. With care and precision she marched over behind the popular shelf, examined the bodies packed like sardines, and picked a new shelf to hide behind.
This one was packed with books instead of weird anime figures and dungeons and dragons minis, the spines a cold comfort as she sat down and started staring.
The titles on this sort of crap were so weird… 
But she supposed Star seemed to enjoy them, Star's rants echoing clearly in her head. 
She wouldn’t admit it with a gun to her head, but after enough of those rants… she may or may not be able to pick out a few of the series on display.
Sue her, she's a sucker for some of the romances even if they were trashy a lot of the time. And Star's collection at this rate was pretty impressive, to the point Paulina was convinced she was the only reason a store like this could keep afloat in a town like Amity.
The other nerd shit probably helped it keep alive, though. More screaming outside, this time sounding like it was from The Box Ghost in rage. Good. Phantom could pummel that no good fool to goo for what it mattered.
... Ugh. The fight could easily take a long time; Box Ghost might be weak, but he clearly had a lot of material to use this time. But whatever. Here she is in a castle of weeb books. Maybe some could be a good distraction.
~
"No! Not you!"
"Yes, me! Did you think you could trash my library and get away with it!?" Ghost Writer roared, trying to come up from behind.
"It wasn't me, it was-"
But Box Ghost was already gone, the leftover boxes of books now floating to the ground in a suspiciously gentle manner.
Coward. The thought wouldn't leave as Danny shifted the books he'd been trying to save around, awkwardly offering the armful to Ghost Writer. 
Ghost Writer loomed ominously.
~
All at once the outside world went quiet, some shouting occasionally coming close enough to hear, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief loud enough to drag Paulina from her pile of books.
Five more minutes would've been great to finish the book she'd had in hand, not that it mattered...
Now she needed to find where Star ran off to without her, the books carefully left behind in a pile.
Phantom and a ghost she couldn’t recognize quipped back and forth, the day still significantly quieter than it had been fifteen minutes before. The area remained strewn with books, the ghost gesturing to some on a roof.
Now, she could walk around the district lost and confused looking for Star... Or just sit back down on a nice ledge and wait for Star to come to her while watching Phantom.
Phantom made an odd twist in the air as he shouted, still a little too distant to make out properly.
Yeah, watching sounded so much safer and calmer. One hop later and she was perched on top of one of the lower walls purporting to be defensive.
Fat lot of good they did...
Phantom and his assailant came closer, lending her a nice view of what was going on.
Maybe she shouldn't be here, but it seemed to be more arguing than fighting, so whatever.
"While I'm sorry my NOT PARTNER didn't have a spine, you can have yours back!" Phantom shouted as they passed overhead, throwing a book at the weird ghost.
She had to huff out a clipped laugh as the ghost was whacked, even as the ghost elected to bolt as it realized its inferiority.
She could just hear the stunned silence from Phantom, right before he cried out "Get back here!" 
Truly, a foolish thing to think it could stand up to the town hero.
With a certain lack of ceremony, the book the from the fight fell onto her 
"Ouch!" She yelped, one hand raising to rub her scalp as the other fumbled for the offending book.
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The whole thing might be a sign it's time to get up and go. Still...
"Raining books is a new one." She muttered, far too late for the comment to be witty but all the same a perfectly serious remark on the latest weird shit Amity came up with.
She cautiously eyed the book in her hands, looking for any oddities. You could never quite trust some of this stuff...
It was just a notebook. Nothing special about it, besides being a trophy for today. The decoration and signature on front was incomprehensible to her, an initial she didn't recognize against the slightly plain front.
Caving to curiosity, the book opened easily. Not that she’d expected anything else. 
It revealed... nothing. Nothing at all. None of the pages had any sort of writing in them.
Well she can't be begrudged for snooping- it's her prize right now. An apology for getting assaulted in broad daylight. This G-W could just deal with it, and the spat was already away from her, so it's not like she was going to be in more danger sitting here.
The blank notebook continued to be uninteresting, and she couldn’t help her annoyance as she shut it. There wasn’t a damn thing to pay her back for getting hit.
Or... well...
She could feel her lip work up into a slight smirk.
I have been wanting to write a new Phantom fic...
The thought was clear as day to her, even as she couldn't wait for the night. What better way to celebrate this particular trophy?
~
Ghost Writer was forced to watch on in abject misery as he realized his collection had been tossed around like a toddler’s toys. No respect whatsoever from the box obsessed lunatic for the actual contents of the boxes.
The nerve! The audacity! To treat his writing like this! The ghost may well need a lesson in manners.
But first, Phantom.
Sure, the boy wasn't the sole force at work- but undeniably the lunatic never would've gotten close to his manuscripts if Phantom hadn't been snooping around in his library.
But don't think he's lost the plot of getting his own books tossed at him! The tactical retreat was nothing more than an admission of lack of home turf!
Nothing to do with not having his typewriter or any notebooks activated!
Ahem... So the child would need an appropriate punishment as well.
Sometime after he collected his books
The whole lot of them, all across town! Lunatics.
It was easy enough to threaten people away from his scripts, but nonetheless annoying and time consuming. Go here, show up there, yell to get their grubby mitts off his stuff. 
Ugh.
The annoyance was the cost of getting everything back. though. He pointedly ignored Phantom’s continued patrolling, likely looking for whatever trap Ghost Writer would end up creating.
Easy enough to stay low and out of sight in the meantime. Whatever he was about to do, it wasn't a ‘now’ plan. Such things take planning, and unfortunately it's not the season to stick the boy back into Christmas stories.
So he was collecting his books, and chasing fools away from them. The cost of love, he supposed.
Still, he was being forced to waste hours upon hours taking his books out of the hands of fools. Having such a collection was not currently a point of pride; He’d have to figure out what went where later.
Slowly but surely his boxes filled back up as he found his manuscripts. There was his old horror story from the eighties, there was his attempt at something akin to a superhero comic, there was his dabbling in... well he couldn't remember either, but if he sat to read it right now it'd take hours for him to finish the book. No reading for him.
Finally, it was time to find his blank notebooks again. He'd be forced to admit that he simply cared less if these ones vanished mysteriously, for a blank notebook was nothing more or less than a possibility.
Most were alright, scattered down the streets carelessly. Some had been picked up and put back down to be examined by wretched hands at a later date.
There was an exception though, something swaying as if held at the edge of where he could feel things. Curious, for how late at night it was getting, but that'd just mean he needed to scare another pathetic mortal off his books.
The pull and search brought him to a cracked window in the suburbs. Nothing meaningful crossed his path, though it was good to be wary; The boy was likely still patrolling, and no doubt Ghost Writer's appearance had put him on edge. As it should.
Slowly rising up to look through, invisible to the mortal eye, he could hear a girl rambling slightly. 
His look through the window was enlightening, the girl curled onto her bed as she wrote with ink that even from this distance sparkled with glitter.
"And then Princess Paulina lived happily ever after with Prince Phantom, aaannd the end." She whispered, pleased with herself.
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Barely pausing, she snapped the book shut and laid it on her nightstand, moving to stand and stretch.
Shouting called her away, which was plenty convenient for him even as she huffed and puffed out of the room.
It was child's play to take the notebook back, even with it defiled by mortal hands. It wasn't a toy to be left with creatures that didn't understand what could be done with such tools.
The cover had already been decorated with a couple of stickers and a flowing cursive he couldn't bother deciphering at this second.
Phasing back out of the room and coming to rest back outside of the window, he flipped the cover open.  The inside was decorated similarly.
Oh, yes. That was glitter pen. The pages were coming away bedazzled with runaway glitter.
This book was most certainly going to have to be put in its own container, but for right this second the name on the inside was of modest curiosity.
Paulina Sanchez in bold strokes, fancy flourishes forgone in favor of legibility. If found, return to owner, do not read.
Well now he just had to, didn't he? It wasn't like the rest of the books were going anywhere, the grand total of three he still had to find now could rest safely.
Or well... No, he could spare the time now> What would the boy do, if it blows up on them both? The books shouldn't even be in the town anyways, and it was most certainly his fault thank you very much!
He quickly leafed through the beginning burning through thanks to his superior-ness and a speed reading class he'd attended before.
... hmm.
Hmmmmm.
He'd recently been complaining about what to do with the boy, no?
"This could work." He spoke to no-one, clapping the book shut. For now.
~
Barely past sunrise, Danny squinted at the sky and grumbled. Damn malicious blob ghosts, eating billboards.
Not that he cares about the billboards, but first it's a billboard and then it's drywall.
"Catch!" Got shouted, an object (presumably) sailing from behind him.
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Snapping too and turning, he could see Ghost Writer grin manically in glee as a book opened wide.
All he could do was choke out an "eh?" as he reflexively reached, the book splayed open and glowing. Illustory pages floated up and off, and he had a really bad feeling about what was coming next as the world around him went white.
~
Coming to under Ghost Writers writing was not a fun thing to experience, see. One did not simply fade into one of his chaotic and weirdly random worlds. You blink and then suddenly you're just there!
Danny was there, wherever there was. Somewhere was currently a bright grass field, with a decorated horse beside him.
Which he would grant was a better entrance than the last time he'd been flung into one of Ghost Writer's many insane stories.
He would never forget that anglerfish...
But almost just as fast as he got here there was another stupidly bright light, and someone was falling into his arms, briefly bundled into his chest before quickly popping back up to look at him.His tongue was stuck in a way that implied Ghost Writer had ideas about what he should or shouldn't be saying at this time, but that didn't stop the extremely strained noise he gave when he realized the person was Paulina, looking VERY enthused.
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28 notes ¡ View notes
creamecream ¡ 1 year ago
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He just came out here to drink and honestly he’s feeling so attacked right now.
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clownwritesfanfic ¡ 3 months ago
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So Come One, Come All - Five Hargreeves X GN! Reader
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Summary: After you find out that your husband of 40 years cheated on you with his own brother’s wife, you give up on figuring out how to fix the apocalypse and run off. That’s when you’re lead to a suspicious deli full of the exact face you never wanted to see again.
Word count: 1647
Genre: Angst/Fluff
Warnings: Cheating, Heartbreak, Happy Ending, rushed writing, not beta read we die like men
Disclaimer: Five is canonically in the body of an 18 year old in this season. Not to mention he aged like 7 more years with Lila. Also, obvious Season 4 spoilers. This season was awful and Five was done so dirty and he’s still ooc in this fic (or at least a version of him is)
———————————————————————
You had no idea how long you had been walking for. All you knew was that you were tired.
Tired of everything. Of the constant apocalypses, the fighting, the stress, …the lying, the heartache. Everything.
You had to get away from that place. You couldn’t stand to be around anyone from that family anymore. Around…him.
You and Five have been married for forty years. You both met in the first apocalypse as teens. You weren’t special like him or his siblings but you were both grateful to have someone else around.
You slowly fell in love over the years as you grew older together. You had a makeshift marriage with a ring Five had made for you out of random bits of metal he had found.
You had both been recruited into the Commission together and quickly became the most badass couple in the entire organization. You were always put on missions together for your efficiency and speed.
You had followed Five back in time to see his family, consequently getting stuck in your younger body as well. You followed him everywhere. You would’ve given your life for him.
So, how could he do this to you?
Forty years, thrown away all because he supposedly got stuck for seven fucking years in a stupid timeline traveling subway station with another woman.
You wanted to kill him. He knew that you didn’t like how comfortable Lila was with him since the beginning and he had assured you he wasn’t interested in her at all and that you were all he wanted. What a load of bullshit that was.
You had left after their explanation. You saw the way he looked at her. The exact same way he used to look at you. For him at had been years since he last saw you. For you, it had only been a few hours since he last looked at you like you were the world.
You had slipped off the wedding ring and threw it at his face before leaving. You could hear him trying to get you to stay and try to follow you but he was stopped by Diego.
You were so lost in thought before you found yourself in front of the entrance to a subway station. This must be the one they were talking about. You looked behind you, making sure no one had followed you but also as a way to look back on this life.
If they were telling the truth about the timelines…then you weren’t going to be coming back to this one. Maybe there is a timeline where you’re happy. One where you and Five don’t meet. Or maybe one where none of this happens. Where you’re both a normal married couple.
You took a deep breath as you gazed down the steps. Once you took your first step down, you knew there was no going back.
As you descended the steps, the eerie silence unnerved you. You could hear only your footsteps on the ground and the squeaking of the turnstile as you pushed through it.
You were startled by the sound of the speakers playing some sort of announcement. It was impossible to understand considering it was all backwards.
Soon, the subway entered the station and came to a halt. The doors opened and you stood still, you were still a little creeped out. Five always made you feel more comfortable in situations like this…but he wasn’t here anymore.
You swallowed your unease and entered the subway car. You slowly took a seat and looked around before the doors closed and the subway started moving. You looked out the window as flashes of colour went by.
You were there for a couple minutes before you stopped. The doors opened but you didn’t get up. You weren’t sure if you wanted to get off yet. You wanted to be sure you were as far from the timeline you were just in as possible.
You felt something pull inside of you though. Something wanted you to get off and explore. So you did.
You let yourself be guided by this feeling deep inside. It was like your heart was pulling you somewhere.
It isn’t long until you end up in front of a building of some kind. Could you even call it that? You never left the station and it’s the only other place in here. Is it more of a building in a building? You didn’t want to think about it too much.
The words “Max’s Delicatessen” were shining brightly in your face. You were a little amused. Maybe you were hungry and it was actually your stomach bringing you here rather than your heart.
You sighed and decided to check it out.
But when you entered, you were horrified at what you saw.
The entire deli was full of copies of your (now ex) husband. This was the last thing you wanted to see and you internally cursed at your conscious for bringing you here.
You could feel your heartbeat pick up and your breathing become heavy as tears pricked at your eyes.
Finally, one of the Five’s had looked up and noticed you stuck in place at the door.
“Darling!” He shot up out of his seat, audibly hitting his knee on the table but he didn’t flinch.
Suddenly, every single Five in the place had his eyes on you, each with various emotions displayed on their face.
The Five that spotted you quickly made his way over to you. He lifted his shaking hands and held them over your cheeks, too scared to make contact in case you fade away.
You could see the disbelief and love in his eyes. This snapped you out of your confusion and slapped his hands away from you and backed yourself up into the door.
The Five in front of you looked confused and hurt before sighing and lowering his hands.
“Sorry…I forgot that you’re not the same one.” He apologized.
“What the FUCK is going on?” You exclaimed as you looked around to be met with all the Five’s still staring at you. “How did you get here? Why are there multiples of you? Why can’t you just leave me alone!”
“Woah, woah, slow down. Breathe. You’re okay. Everything’s fine.” The Five in front of you tried to calm you down. “You took the subway right? This is a different timeline. We’re all the same person from different timelines. Usually the only new people that enter here are a version of me…or…us I guess. You’re the only…well…you, that has shown up here.” He explained.
“What?” You looked at him like he was crazy.
“They should sit down.” Another Five had said.
“Come on, hun. Come sit down and we can talk.” He had reached out towards you, careful not to touch you while he guided you towards the opposite end of the booth he was previously at.
You sat down, still in shock. It felt weird being surrounded by so many Five’s. Especially when you were trying to get away from him.
“I guess I’ll start.” Five had sat down across from you and sighed.
“In my timeline, you and I had been together for years. We met at the Commission. At first we hated each other but we were always put on missions together. Over time…I had fallen for you, and luckily for me, you reciprocated those feelings. We were together romantically for years. We were on our last mission before our contract with the Commission ended. We were planning on getting married after and retiring somewhere nice. But…it went wrong…and I lost you. You died in my arms.” He looked off to the side and tried to play off wiping away his tears.
“I haven’t seen you in years. You’re just as beautiful as the day I lost you.” He reached a hand across the table and gently placed it on yours.
You teared up as you saw the pure love in his eyes. Your Five used to look at you like that and it still hurt knowing he no longer felt that way.
“If you’re here…then something must’ve happened to the Five in your timeline.” He rubbed his thumb on the back of your hand.
You stilled and took your hand back, making the Five in front of you frown.
You hugged your torso for comfort and curled in on yourself slightly as you looked down at the table.
“We were married for forty years…but he got stuck in the subway with Lila and…I guess forty years didn’t mean anything because in seven years he threw it all away for…her.” You hiccuped as you tried to hold back your tears.
There were multiple grumbles and scoffs around the deli.
The Five across from you reached across the table and held your shoulder gaining your attention.
“Everyone here had a version of you in their timeline. We all lost you in one way or another. I think I speak for all of us when I say…having you here is the best thing to happen to us, and he’s a complete idiot for throwing you away like that.” He smiled as he lightly caressed your cheek.
You smiled slightly at his words.
“Aww there’s that beautiful smile.” Five said as he lightly pinched your cheek.
You giggled and batted his hand away and wiped your tears away.
A sandwich and drink was placed in front of you and you looked up to another Five holding a now empty tray.
“Your favourite, just the way you like it.” He said as he gently grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it with a wink.
You blushed at the action and thanked him.
Even though you got on that train in order to get away from him…you don’t think you’ll be getting back on any time soon.
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thedissociatives ¡ 1 year ago
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think i'm gonna organise my books today
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joelscruff ¡ 5 months ago
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is it that sweet? (joel miller x f!reader) 18+
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masterlist | a/n i've had no motivation to write lately but this randomly popped into my head the other day and suddenly my brain was like okay let's roll!! let's do this!! let's jump in!! so idk what that says about the current state of my subconscious. anyway this is filth! pls read the warnings! love u. summary: you probably shouldn't let some random middle aged man on the beach take nude photos of you, right? right? rating: 18+ explicit warnings: pervy!joel, age gap, voyeurism, coercion, objectification, sneaky picture taking, nude photos, paying for sexual favors, dirty talk, praise kink, pussy pronouns up the fuckin wazoo, oral (f receiving), nipple sucking, unprotected p in v sex, standing sex, creampie word count: 8.4k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍
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He's been watching you for about an hour. You'd sussed him out almost immediately after settling onto your beach towel and digging into your bag for your sunscreen, mildly aware of the shape of him in your peripheral vision. He's old, definitely in his late fifties, but certainly not the most unattractive man who could be eyeing you. You're used to it by now anyway, almost feed into the way men seem to gawk at you sometimes now that you've finally thrown caution to the wind and stopped giving a fuck about your beach body. You used to be self conscious about your curves, your tummy, your thighs - you decided this summer that it had to stop.
And you're glad you did. Because now he's staring at you, this unnamed, completely anonymous middle aged man only a few feet away. And it feels fucking good.
Should it feel good? Probably not. Should you tell him to buzz off and leave you alone? Take a picture, it'll last longer, something like that? Probably. But will you? No.
You like feeling his eyes on you.
Older men like you, you've noticed. They stare. They stare more than men your own age - boys, really. Twenty somethings who try to play it cool and more often than not come across as disinterested in their interest. They're cowardly, obnoxious. And you suppose some older ones are too, especially the ones with wives - they want you to be impressed by them, ooh and awe over their high paying jobs and big mansions, their fancy cars that they think make up for their tiny dicks.
But every now and then you'll come across one like this. You can read him like a book, peering at him from over your sunglasses every so often as he lounges behind a vibrant blue umbrella. His eyes caress your bare shoulders and chest, your exposed stomach, your soft thighs. They linger on the places they shouldn't and it makes you tingle. He's appreciating what he sees, basking in it, taking his time.
You could be content just lying here and letting him look. He is handsome after all, greying curls and soft scruff flecked with white, golden skin that almost glows underneath the sun. His legs stretch out over his own towel, long and lean and strong. He's got a soft looking belly, hanging out a little bit over his trunks, and now your eyes linger for a little longer than they should.
But you won't say anything. If he wants to talk to you, he has every opportunity to. You're not going anywhere for at least another hour, not until the sun starts setting and it's time to head back to your friend's vacation home. You've only been in California for a short period of time, but it's like it's somehow molded you into a different person - a more confident, sexier version of yourself that's been dying to get out for years. A version of you who lets this old man stare and get his fill as you smirk and turn over on your towel, arching your ass up into the air.
Oh, he likes that. You can tell because of the way his jaw clenches, neck tightening as his eyes fall to the globes of your cheeks. With a barely there smirk, you arch a little more, stretching and flexing and letting him take in the way your bikini bottoms barely contain them. Your breasts hang low onto your towel, practically overflowing from their own containment, and you have to admit - you're getting a little wet posing for him like this.
He licks his lips, eyes flickering downward again to something closer to him, something in his hand. You crane your neck a little bit to peer around the blue umbrella, and your breath hitches.
He's taking pictures of you.
It's obvious now, should have been obvious this whole time, really. Only one of his hands has really been visible, the other settled low against his side behind the umbrella. Now you can see that he's got his phone angled toward you, the camera peeking slyly out from behind the blue nylon as he repeatedly taps his screen with his thumb. To test him a little further, make sure you're really seeing what you think you're seeing, you push down into the sand with your hands and rise up a little bit on the towel, almost into a lazy downward facing dog. Your tits jiggle below you, threatening to escape, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as the man adjusts the camera to get a better angle. His thumb and forefinger glide across the screen, undeniably - and unashamedly - zooming in.
You're definitely wet now. You know you shouldn't be. You know this has probably gone too far and you should get up and leave, potentially tell someone about the creep on the beach taking photos of women in bikinis.
Instead, you make eye contact with him, settling back down onto your towel with your ass still perched a little in the air. He seems to freeze, eyebrows going up in the realization that he's been caught. In response, you blink slowly at him, pout a little bit as if to say, Really? You arch your back a little more and shimmy your hips, tilting your head as you continue to gaze over at him, eyes going a little hooded.
Come fuck me, you're almost saying, even though you know there's no way in hell you're gonna let him. It's just funny to watch him squirm, phone gripped tight in his hand as his adam's apple bobs in his throat. You arch a little more and then grind your hips into your towel, flattening yourself against it, holding his gaze. You rest your head and smile at him teasingly.
He's getting up and shuffling toward you in no time at all.
"Hi, darlin'," are the first words out of his mouth when he reaches you, and you certainly did not expect a Southern accent to fall from those plush lips. He's gorgeous really, now that you can see him up close - wide shoulders and big arms that strain against his white shirt, strong chest covered in little freckles, chocolate brown eyes that shimmer in the sunlight.
"Hi," you say with a smile, blinking up at him.
"I'm sure you saw what I was doin'," he seems a little embarrassed, voice apologetic as he scratches the back of his neck, "I know I shoulda asked, but you seemed so relaxed, I didn't wanna disturb you."
Bullshit, you only came over because I smiled at you. Any other reaction and you'd have run for the hills.
"I'm Joel," he reaches his hand down for you to take. For some reason, you shake it without hesitation. "I'm actually a photographer, believe it or not."
Huh. You raise an eyebrow at the words, doubt immediately swimming in your mind as you assess him.
"If you're a photographer, where's your camera?"
He chuckles, "Back at my hotel. I just came out here to relax, wasn't plannin' on takin' any photos. But then I saw you, and, well..." he smiles at you sheepishly, "You're just so pretty, darlin'. Never seen somebody like you before."
The words are not special. They're nothing you haven't already heard, nothing he hasn't probably already used on countless other women. And yet... you smile back at him, cheeks warming a little at the way the compliment sounds coming out of his mouth in particular, all Southern and sweet. "Thank you."
His eyes suddenly leave yours to flicker back toward your body again, scanning the length of you. As if on instinct, almost to show off, you tighten the muscles in your ass cheeks and then release, letting them jiggle a little bit under your swimsuit. He swallows tightly.
"Would you be interested in posin' for me, sweetheart? There's a little spot down the beach, outta sight. Still public though, of course. I wouldn't ask you to go anywhere unsafe," his eyes linger on your ass for a few more seconds before he's meeting your gaze again, soft and sincere, "I'd love to get some pictures of you in that bikini, and some with it off too, if you're comfortable with that."
Oh, he's fucking brave. You can feel disgust brewing in the pit of your stomach, a scowl beginning to dawn on your face. This is where you should draw the line. This is where you should get up and leave, tell him to go to hell, tell him he's a pervert and-
"I'll pay whatever you think is fair," he continues, "How's three hundred as a starting point?"
On second thought...
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"Beautiful, baby," he's telling you softly, "You're so pretty like that."
You hum in contentment, laying in the sand with a little smile tugging at your lips as Joel maneuvers around you with his phone, snapping pic after pic as you peer up at him through rays of sun. You're a little ways down the beach now, in a sparser area behind some rocks. He was right about it still being public - if something happened, you know you could raise your voice the tiniest bit and be heard immediately by people on the other side. Somehow though, despite his forwardness and slightly perverted habits, you trust that he isn't going to force anything on you.
You've already got three hundred dollars in your purse. He'd given it to you before you'd even gotten up from your initial spot on the beach, placed it in your hand with a grin as your eyes widened. You suppose you could've taken the money and run, but part of you wanted to play it out, test the limits, see what else he'd pay you for.
Which leads you here, laying sensually in the sand with the strings of your bikini dangling a little looser off your shoulders and hips, a little careless, a little more teasing. The poses so far have been pretty basic, and you've tried your best to emulate what you think a supermodel on the cover of Sports Illustrated would do. Based on Joel's responses - excited nods and gentle praises - you think you're doing a good job.
"Turn over now," he tells you with a playful grin, "Put that cute little ass in the air again for me."
It should be demeaning, the way he's talking to you. There's a lot about this situation that should be wrong, and yet you can't help but feel pride swell in your chest at his directions, his compliments. You do what he says, flipping over to dig your hands into the sand and arch your back, turning your head to eye the camera directly with a sultry little smile on your face.
"Perfect," he's murmuring, thumb tapping the screen like his life depends on it, "That's so perfect, honey." You listen to the fake little shutter sounds the phone makes, still wondering if he's even really a photographer. Would it even matter? Wouldn't you have still let him do this anyway?
With this new angle you can feel the loose strands of your bikini top starting to slip, unraveling at the back and trickling gently against your sides. You watch with what should be a worrying lack of urgency as it cascades down onto the sand below, leaving you topless.
He whistles low under his breath, "Well, would you look at that. The girls are out."
"That's an extra fifty," you say with a coy eyebrow raise, "Or else I cover them back up."
"Extra fifty, no problem" Joel echoes, "Can you shake your ass for me again, darlin'?"
You nod, tilting your head and peering back at him as you tighten and release your muscles with a giggle, basking in the way he stares at it, like it's a five course meal he's about to devour. You do it a few more times, arching your back a little more and spreading your thighs slightly to allow for more recoil, more jiggle. He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat and you grin.
"How much to take these off too?" he lowers the phone and peers at you with pleading eyes, brown and soft, "Huh? How much extra to show me this lil' peach, honey?"
You grimace, looking down at the sand and trying to calculate an appropriate cost in your brain. You bite your lip, "You know that's not the only thing that'll show."
"I know," he murmurs, eyes trailing downward again to eye your ass, still perched high and plump, "Your peach and your pussy then, how much?"
Fuck.
"I won't touch you," he promises softly, "You can just tug it down and show her to me, lemme see her up close, yeah?"
Her?
Her.
"Christ," you mumble under your breath. He's filthier than you thought, and not in a bad way - in a fucking hot way. "Another fifty," you decide, voice firm, "And... and I wanna see you put the money in my purse first. And no touching my... her."
"I can do that, sweetheart," he's already digging into his wallet and yanking out the money, opening your bag slightly to place it inside. It could be counterfeit for all you know; this whole thing really might be a completely worthless venture, and yet -
He watches as you reach backward to untie the strings of your bikini bottoms, doing it in one fell swoop and then spreading your thighs again, knees digging into the sand. You arch and press your face against your towel, feeling goosebumps rise all over your skin at the knowledge that he's staring at where you're now completely bare.
You hear him groan, a rough little sound that goes straight to your core, and a few little shutter sounds go off, "Now, that's a pretty little pussy you got there, baby."
Heat rises throughout your body, up through your chest and to your cheeks. You turn a little to look at him shyly, lashes fluttering when you see where his gaze has settled.
"Yeah?"
"Oh, honey, she's so pretty," he breathes, "She's all wet. Leakin' for me, you see that?"
You can't see it of course, but you can feel it; feel the way you're dripping, knowing that he can see it, has a 1:1 view of the way you throb and drool for him. This random old man who about twenty minutes ago you'd never spoken to in your life.
"And your little clit is sayin' hi to me too, babygirl, can see her pokin' out." Fuck. You squirm a little in place as his camera continues to go off, legs spreading a little more unconsciously as you tilt your head downwards and close your eyes. Your clit twitches under his stare.
"Swollen little thing," he breathes, barely loud enough to hear, "Perfect pussy."
Jesus Christ.
"Roll over for me again, sweetheart," you hear him say quietly, "Show me all those pretty parts."
You don't know why, but you whine a little at his words. It's subconscious, a burning desire you can't describe as you slowly flip over and lazily lay back on your towel to show him your entire naked body. He stands over you with his brow furrowed in a gentle kind of way, eyes appraising you up and down like you're some kind of goddess. And fuck, he's kind of making you feel like one.
"Legs open a little bit, baby, that's it." You obey, spreading your legs and looking up at him with lidded eyes, lips parting a little. You bring your arms up to rest behind your head and he takes note of the way your tits bounce for him, shivering back and forth beneath his gaze. "You're perfect," he murmurs, "You're absolutely perfect."
"Stop," you say, unable to stop a grin from spreading across your face, "M'not perfect."
"But you are, darlin'," he shakes his head, eyes full of wonder as he kneels down to get some closer pictures. You watch as he brings his phone down directly in front of your pussy, snaps a few close-ups of your puffy lips and swollen clit. "I'd love to kiss her, honey, if you'd let me."
"N-no," you say quickly, though your voice cracks, "No touching."
"I'll pay you extra," his eyes return to yours, locking your gazes, "You name it, baby. I'll pay anything to taste how sweet you are down here."
You look at him calculatingly, tilting your head. Anything?
"Two hundred," you practically whisper, "In the bag."
You're half expecting him to tell you that he's run out of money, that he couldn't possibly give you any more than the four hundred he's already blown on this. But he surprises you, reaching back into his pocket to grab his wallet and tug out the bills. It's like he has an endless supply, and you're beginning to wonder if maybe this is a hobby of his, something he prepares for, carries money around to be ready to spend on women like you. Maybe he's rich rich, has unlimited money to throw away, and this is just his weird perverted thing he does on the side of something else.
Maybe you should have asked for more.
But he's already kneeling back down into the sand and you're already opening your legs wider for him, allowing him to settle between them and lean his head forward to place his lips gently against your pussy. You watch with heavy lids as he kisses you so softly there, his mouth tender and inviting and deliciously scratchy from his scruff. Without really thinking about it, you reach down and run a hand through his curls, smiling a little fondly as he kisses you again, and again, and again.
"That feels nice," you breathe, watching as he continues to press incredibly slow and gentle kisses to your cunt in an almost respectful way, a reverent way.
"Good," he murmurs, lips vibrating against your core, "Want it to feel nice for you, baby."
You let out a soft moan the second his tongue breaches your folds, wet and warm. You watch as he closes his eyes and seems to get lost in it, tasting your pussy like it - or she, as he'd said - is some rare delicacy he's never indulged in before. He trails the tip of his tongue through the mess you've made, maneuvering your puffy lips and flicking it against your clit. Your hips buck and another moan slips out, quiet and pitiful.
"That's it," he murmurs against you with a little half smile, "So sweet for me, honey." He dives back in immediately and slowly plunges his tongue inside your entrance, fucking into you a few times before carefully pulling back and opening his eyes to peer up at you again. God, those brown eyes are fucking sinful. He gives you one more smile and then reaches down to grab his phone.
"Gonna get some more pics of this messy girl, okay?" he breathes, and you're a little startled when his left hand is suddenly coming down to touch you there, two fingers carefully scissoring you open. You don't say anything, too horny to protest, too intrigued to see what he's going to do. "Gotta open her up a little," he tells you softly, answering your unspoken question, "Wanna take a little peek at what she's hidin' inside her, baby."
A little whimper falls from your throat again as his fingers scissor you wider, holding you open and baring your hole to his camera. You can feel your walls twitching and pulsing, contracting and leaking; you can only imagine what it looks like. Your eyes roll a little when his middle finger taps your clit, another gush of arousal flooding past your opening.
"Look at this lil' hole, huh?" he's murmuring, but your eyes are closing and your head is falling back onto the towel as he plays with you, "Oh, she's alllll messy for me down here, baby. And it's no wonder your clit came out to see me, she loves gettin' played with, don't she?"
Christ, he knows how to talk. His words send another helpless little sound past your lips, thighs trembling as he slowly caresses your clit with his finger, pressing down on it with just the right amount of pressure.
"Aw, you're all sticky here again, baby," he whispers and you whine, feeling your juices dribble down toward your ass, "Shh, I'll take care of it," and then he's leaning back in to lap at your folds, a little faster this time, more desperate, "Tastes so good, pretty girl. So sweet."
He suckles your clit into his mouth and you let out a breathless moan, brow furrowing as he suctions the swollen nub and lets one of his fingers fall to slip inside your entrance. You're so close you can feel it, coiled inside and ready to snap at any moment, his thick index plugging you deliciously as his tongue swirls. You tighten around it, thighs squeezing a little around his head, and then-
He's pulling away, removing his mouth and finger. Your eyes flutter open and you watch as he stands up with a little groan, older age apparent in the way he clutches at his back and exhales once he's upright. You want to tell him to get back down here, finish what he started, but part of you feels like it'd almost be letting him win, somehow. This perverted creep on a public beach that's somehow managed to lure you away and get you naked, take photos of your body and eat your pussy. He doesn't deserve to have you beg for him - even if you want to.
"Can you stand up for me now, honey?" he tilts his head, squinting against the sun and smiling like he didn't just ruin your orgasm.
On shaky legs, you manage to pull yourself up from the sand and stand before him in all your naked glory, legs crossing a little as you squeeze your thighs together. He smirks but doesn't say anything about it, instead angling his phone toward you again and snapping some full length photos. You immediately do your best to go back into Sports Illustrated mode, posing a little and trying to ignore the ache between your legs, the relentless throb of where his mouth just was.
"Squeeze your tits together for me," he tells you, voice a bit deeper, rougher, full of arousal, "Cup 'em a little, show me those cute lil' nipples."
You do as he says, biting your lip and showing the camera exactly what he wants to see. Your nipples are peaked and hard, begging to be teased and tugged, but you refuse to do it yourself - you're not giving him the satisfaction, not after what he just pulled. He takes a few up-close pictures, camera so close to them that you shiver with sensitivity, the smallest bit of air from his movements causing them to tighten even more.
"Those are so beautiful, baby," he murmurs softly, gaze trailing upwards to meet yours, "Can I give 'em a kiss too?" God, his eyes are so fucking soft and sincere, like fucking boba pearls. You wonder if anyone's ever been able to say no to him.
You swallow, keeping eye contact, "For another fifty, sure."
He chuckles at that, "You drive a hard bargain, darlin'."
"I know what I'm worth."
He smiles, nodding slowly, "That, you do." He pulls out his wallet and slips another bill into your bag, then shuffles toward you again. You try to keep your breathing calm when one of his hands comes up to cradle your bare back, pulls you in a little bit as he lowers his mouth to your right nipple. With hazy eyes, you watch as he presses the softest little kiss to it, then does the same to the left.
Part of you wants to pull back and say that's it, that's all you get, just to see what he does, give him a taste of his own medicine. But then he's wrapping his lips around the pebbled bud and suckling, your eyes going glassy, jaw dropping a little as your hands come up to hold his shoulders. Your pussy throbs at the sensation, thighs rubbing together again as he suctions just the right amount and swirls his tongue all over the hard peak. It's impossible not to let a quiet moan fall past your lips, something he returns with a little mmhmm around your nipple, a wordless I know.
It feels so good that you feel your guard going down even more than it already has, feel your head falling forward to rest against his. His greying hair is so soft, so warm from the sun. You blink slowly and inhale, cheek smooshing into his temple as he sucks and sucks and sucks, then turns his attention to the other one. Little whimpers are tumbling past your lips, your hands squeezing and caressing his shoulders as you feel yourself starting to drip down your inner thighs.
It's so fucking intimate, much more intimate than you anticipated. And when he finally pulls away and comes back up to peer into your eyes again, leaving your nipples puffy and a little sore, you betray yourself by leaning forward to kiss him softly, tugging his bottom lip into your mouth and returning the favor with a little suckle. You feel him smile against you, the hand on your back tightening as he brings his other one up to tangle in your hair. His lips are plush and wet - a little chapped from what he's just done to your nipples - and he tastes like pussy.
It's fucking heavenly.
"I wanna show you somethin', babygirl," he murmurs against you after a moment, and you nod a little too quickly, a little pathetically. You're starting to realize that you're losing the battle here, if there ever even was one.
He pulls back a little, eyes still soft. You watch as he reaches down to his swim trunks and unties them, heart suddenly in your throat as he slips his hand inside and comes out with an absolutely beautiful dick. It's long and thick, rounded and full at the tip with an extremely suckable looking mushroom head, as well as a prominent vein trailing up his shaft that makes your mouth water. You both stare at it for a few seconds without speaking, your lips parting but no words coming to mind.
"You wanna take some pictures with my cock, honey?" he asks you quietly, and you think he's probably looking at your face now, watching your expression, but you're still just staring at his dick.
"W-what?"
"Just a few, like...well..." he shuffles forward a bit and very gently presses the warmth of his cock against your bare stomach, letting the tip sit just above your belly button, "Like this."
Your brain is blank.
"That okay?"
His cock is so heavy.
"Darlin'?"
And warm.
He pushes some of your hair behind your ear, cradles your face in his big hand, "I know, honey," he murmurs, "You just gotta say okay."
Okay?
"O-okay," you finally whisper.
"Yeah?"
Yeah. You think it but don't say it, can't say it. You feel beyond overwhelmed, eyes still glued to where his throbbing tip is smooshed into your belly. You can't stop looking at it, ogling it, awed by its impressiveness and girth, the way it leaks a little onto your skin. You've never seen a dick this pretty before. You almost forget that you're standing there without any clothes on, barely aware of the shutter sound as he snaps multiple pictures on his phone.
"Good girl," he murmurs softly, "That's a good girl, just look at it."
Every few seconds he repositions a little, pulling you in closer to capture the way his cock stands at attention between your bodies. Precum gurgles from the tip and makes a sticky mess in his happy trail, dribbling down onto your skin. Without thinking about it at all, completely unaware of even doing it, your arms are suddenly around his waist, holding him close with your gaze still locked onto his cock.
"Yeah, that's for you, baby," he tells you softly, grinding his hips a little bit against yours and essentially fucking his cock against your stomach, "You did that to me."
It's only when he suddenly takes a small step back, holds the base and angles it downward to gently prod the sticky head against your pussy lips, that you finally come to your senses.
"Wait," you gasp out, yanking yourself back from him and shaking your head, "W-wait a second."
"M'sorry," he says quickly, brow furrowing as he puts his hands up. His cock hangs from his trunks almost comically, bobbing up and down as he takes a step back, "Shoulda asked first."
"Y-yeah, you should've," your voice cracks, heat flooding your face, "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me just then, that was too far." Why the fuck are you apologizing to him?
"S'not too far," his words are gentle, alluring, "We're just havin' fun, aren't we honey? You were havin' fun, got lost in it. It's okay."
You take a breath, staring at him as you try to get your bearings. Were you having fun? Is this fun? What the fuck are you even doing right now? Your thoughts are cloudy, hazed with arousal and attraction to this complete stranger in front of you. Are you really gonna let this continue? Is it really worth it? Your gaze falls back to his cock and the question is almost answered for you.
"What am I doing?" you ask aloud, a breathless little laugh escaping your lips.
"You're just havin' fun with a new friend, s'all it is."
You raise an eyebrow at him, trying to ignore the way your hands tremble, "Is that what you are? My friend?"
"I'll be anything you want me to be, darlin'," his mouth turns up at the corners, eyes sparkling, "I sure would like to be your friend."
He peers at you for a moment, waiting for you to speak. Your mouth opens a few times but no words come out, your thoughts scrambled as you try to make heads or tails of this situation. You're suddenly painfully aware of the fact that you're still completely naked, and you quickly peek your head over the rock formation to make sure there's nobody nearby - there isn't.
Why are you checking?
"C'mere," Joel finally says, and you turn back to look at him with your lip between your teeth. He's standing there with his arms open a bit, cock still heavy between his legs. By all accounts, a fucking perv. And yet...
And yet.
Fuck it.
You're back in his embrace in no time, hooking your head over his shoulder and allowing his cock to press warmly into your skin again. You close your eyes and sigh as he brings one of his hands downward to squeeze your ass.
You know what he's going to ask before he even says it.
"Can I put it inside you, darlin'?" he murmurs softly, pleadingly, "Just to get a pic of your pussy all full?"
You don't say anything.
"Won't take more than a minute," he urges, "I promise, baby. Just wanna see it stretched around my cock. Don't you wanna see that, pretty girl? I'll pay extra, whatever you want."
More silence.
"I know you wanna see it," he's relentless, his other hand coming down to squeeze your other cheek and pull you impossibly closer, "You wanna feel that, don't you, baby? Big cock fillin' you up before you go?" His middle finger slides between your cheeks and settles at your pussy, slowly teasing your entrance, "Don't gotta do anything at all, just gotta stand here, we'll do it standin' honey."
"Standing?" you ask softly, pulling back to look at him with intrigue, and your response suddenly has him grinning from ear to ear as he slowly inserts his finger. You shiver, eyes fluttering closed as he fills you with it.
"Standin'," he repeats, "Just like this, baby, don't gotta do anything 'cept open your legs a little for me. You can do that, can't you?" The hand on your ass comes up to hold your chin; he pinches it gently between his finger and thumb and gives you another soft look as he starts to fuck you in earnest, "I know you can, 'cause you're a good girl, yeah?"
"Y-yeah," you breathe, arms tightening around his body.
"Yeah," he adds a second finger, smile faltering into a sympathetic pout when you let out another soft moan, "And you want that cock, don't you? I can see it all over your face, honey. Don't gotta pretend."
"I do," you whisper with a nod, swallowing thickly and trembling in his arms, "I want it, I do."
"So..." he's waiting for you to say the words, to tell him to go ahead and put it in, do what he wants, let him take control. His fingers are relentless inside of you now, plunging in and out at a speed you know he's purposely using to distract you, cloud your decision making.
Which is why his eyebrows go up in surprise when you're suddenly reaching down to grab tightly to his wrist, yanking his fingers out of your pussy in one swift pull.
"Three hundred," you state, "Take it or leave it."
To your surprise, his face alights with a gigantic smile, a deep laugh tumbling past his lips as he nods and digs his hand into his pocket, seeking his wallet one more time, "Yes, m'aam," he grins, "I'll take it."
You've never had sex standing up before. Not like this, face to face and completely upright with your feet planted on the ground. It's a little awkward at first, Joel having to crouch a little to align his hips with yours, one hand gripping your waist while the other grips his phone. God, this fucking phone. You're pretty sure you'll never wanna see a phone case with this ugly shade of cerulean blue again, let alone hear those obnoxious shutter sounds.
Your annoyance is quickly overpowered by the sensation of the warm head of Joel's cock pressing gently to your pussy. You look down to watch, lip between your teeth again as Joel snaps image after image of the way his tip crowds your outer lips, pushes them apart. You have to admit, it's certainly a sight to behold.
"Yeah, look at her open for me, baby," he's murmuring, thumbing the base as he slowly rubs his cockhead back and forth through your folds, "Bloomin' like a little flower."
The top of your head rests against his shoulder, face angled down to watch what he's doing. A tiny whimper falls from your lips when he very slowly eases the head of his cock inside of you, the stretch barely noticeable with how wet you are. He releases your hip to reach down and open your pussy lips with his thumb and forefinger, exposing where you're joined.
"Tell her to smile for the camera, babygirl," he whispers, and while part of you wants to roll your eyes, another part can't help but feel a gush of arousal at his words, soaking his cock even more, "Good, that's good."
He feeds his cock to you slowly, making sure to take as many pictures as he can. Little whines and squeaks erupt from your throat and your hands claw at his back, fingers tangling in the white crocheted material as he fills you up. It's only when he's fully sheathed inside of you that he suddenly tugs his trunks down a little more to expose his balls, heavy and round and full. You stare at them with a longing in your eyes you can't describe, lower lip trembling as you watch them bounce and settle against where you're joined.
"There you go," he murmurs, snapping one last picture before tossing his phone into the sand and bringing his hands up to cradle your back, pulling you close, "All done, baby, that's it."
Your toes curl in the sand as you embrace the feeling of being so full of him, his tip pulsing delicately inside the deepest parts of you. A distant thought in your brain wonders why he just threw his phone on the ground, but it doesn't seem to matter when you feel like this, so full and wet and warm, lost in a hazy glow. You bury your face in his shoulder, letting out quiet little whimpers as he pulls you in tighter. He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, seemingly reveling in the moment too as you stand there listening to the ocean waves, impaled on a stranger's cock.
"How's that feel, honey?" he asks you softly, thumbs tracing shapes along your bare back, "Hm? Feel good?" You don't answer, just nuzzle your face against his skin and let out another soft whine, hands clamoring underneath his shirt to grip his back. He chuckles, "Yeah, I know, baby."
You both stand there for what feels like forever, until you finally have enough sense to pull away from his shoulder and get a look at his face. He's watching you fondly, brow furrowed, eyes still incredibly soft and inviting. He really is gorgeous. Pervy, but gorgeous.
"You dropped your phone," you mumble, words faint and slightly slurred.
"Don't need it anymore," he murmurs, "Got my pictures."
"Then why are you still inside me?" you ask softly, eyelashes fluttering, "If you're done?"
He shrugs, smiling, "'Cause it feels good, don't it?"
You stare at him for a few seconds but end up nodding regardless, turning your face a little to peer over at the ocean, "It does," you admit, "Feels really good."
"Mmhmm," he kisses the top of your head again, then your temple, stroking his fingers through your hair. The way he touches you is reverent, delicate, like you're something fragile he needs to keep safe. It's not what you'd expected, that's for sure. But something you're not as sure about is what happens now, where you both go from here.
It doesn't take long for him to decide.
You feel his thumb on your clit, drawing your attention away from the ocean and back to his presence. You peer at him through bleary eyes, a dazed little smile curving your lips as he carefully rotates the swollen nub. His belly caresses yours, warm and soft, and you smile even wider.
"Feel good?" he asks you again - tender, kind.
"Yeah," you whisper.
The hand on your back comes up to cradle your hair, pulling you in close again and allowing you to rest your head against his smooth chest. You moan as his thumb picks up speed, the sound muffled by his tan skin.
"You want me to make you come, honey?" he murmurs, fingers brushing carefully through your hair, "You wanna come all over that big cock inside you?"
"Yeah," you repeat, a little broken this time, "W-wanna come."
"You've been so fuckin' good for me, you know that?" he breathes, barely a whisper, brow furrowed as he continues to rub your clit, "Posin' all pretty, showin' me that soft little pussy, lettin' me taste her," he gives a low whistle, shaking his head, "And now she's all full, huh? She full?"
You nod, eyes rolling a little, "Y-yeah." Apparently yeah is currently one of the only words in your vocabulary.
"She all messy for me?"
Again, you nod, expression blissful as you let out a moan, "Yes, Joel," you whimper, and you're pretty sure it's the first time you've said his name this whole time. It's like you've been trying to be disconnected from it, from him, and now suddenly he's everywhere; inside you, in front of you, above you - there's no escaping him. And you don't want to escape - what you want is him. Badly. Desperately.
He seems to realize this at the exact same time you do, the moment he hears his name fall from your lips. Which is why you're not surprised in the slightest by his next words.
"What if I wanted a pic of my cum leakin' outta this little pussy?" he whispers, mouth suddenly directly next to your ear, sending insane amounts of pleasurable tingles throughout your whole body, "Huh? How much would that cost? Tell me."
"You can't," you mumble, lightheaded, but you're lying to yourself, completely lost in the pleasure he's giving you, the movement of his thumb and the girth of his cock.
"Only take a few seconds, honey, m'already close," as he speaks, you feel his hips slowly begin to buck, cock pulling from you for only a moment before easing back in, making you shudder, "You don't gotta do nothin', 'cept show me how she drools when she's full. You can do that, can't you baby?"
"Joel," you whine again, eyes shut tight as you dig your toes into the sand, holding tight to his back as he slowly starts to fuck up into you. He's so big, so thick, plugging you full and then leaving you again, slow and warm. You can only imagine how it would feel to have him burst inside of you, to fill you to the brim.
"I wanna see her drool, honey," he murmurs, voice desperate again, full of arousal, "Wanna see her push it out."
"Fuck," you moan, high and whiney as you suddenly grip both sides of his face in your hands to peer directly into his eyes, "A thousand," you whimper, your hands clawing at his scruff as his hips pick up speed, as his hands fall to your waist and hold tightly as he starts to pound up into you, "A thousand and you can come in my pussy."
He presses his forehead against yours, lets out a guttural sound and then hisses, "Deal."
And for some reason, you believe him.
Getting pounded while standing upright is a fucking trip. His nails dig into the pebbled flesh of your hips, knees bending and unbending as his cock fucks up into you relentlessly without stopping or slowing. Your hands are still holding his face, eyes locked with his as your mouth pops open in a silent scream, thumbs digging into the apples of his cheeks. Holy fucking shit.
"I know, I know, I know," he's groaning, voice wild and unhinged, groans vibrating in his chest, "Fuckin' take it, s'what you were made for, honey. Knew it the second I saw you, knew you were gonna go wild on that dick."
"Please," you moan out, tears pricking in your eyes, the sensations almost too much to bear, "Please, please." You don't even know what you're begging for, thoughts muddled as you release his face and wind your arms around his neck, "Keep fucking me, keep fucking me, don't stop, please."
"I got you, honey, I got you," you feel his thumb return to your clit as he speaks, the sounds of your skin slapping together almost rivalling the sound of the ocean waves, "You gonna come, pretty girl? Huh? You gonna cream on my cock?"
"Yes," you practically squeal, and before you can really process what you're doing you're suddenly jumping up from the sand to wrap your legs around Joel's waist, ankles tangling together behind his back. He has no issue shifting positions, his arm cradling you and holding you in the air while his thumb continues to ravage your clit. You feel it building in your stomach, tightening more and more with the insistent pressure of his thumb and the continuous thrusts of his dick hitting your cervix over and over.
"Ohh, I feel her, baby," he groans in your ear, "Sloppy little cunt wants to make another mess, doesn't she?" And that's all it takes for your orgasm to hit you, your legs squeezing tighter and tighter and tighter around Joel's body as you moan and whine and cry, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and shaking in his arms. It's like having the wind knocked out of you, arguably one of the best orgasms you've ever had in your life, your eyes rolling back into your head as you sob into his neck.
"Joel," you whimper, pussy pulsing repeatedly around his dick through the aftershocks, "Joel, come inside her, please."
"Oh, fuck."
You feel it then, the twitch of his cock and the warm ropes of his release pumping into you. You sigh almost dreamily, burying your face in his shoulder and listening as he groans, feeling the way his fingertips dig into the soft plush of your ass. It's steady - there's so much more than you thought there'd be, and the sensation is enough to make you whimper again, murmuring his name one more time as he empties himself.
You stay like that for a moment, the ocean loud in your ears, all other sounds seemingly drowned out by the hiss of sea against rock and sand. Eventually, he carries you a few steps to your towel, your ears ringing and his body trembling a little as he carefully lowers you down. You let go of him a bit reluctantly, a pout on your lips as he lays you out and then slowly pulls himself from you with a wet squelch.
"Good girl," he's murmuring - you realize he's been saying it the whole time - "Good girl, that's it, open your legs."
There's no hesitance at all anymore, not after that. You open your legs wide with abandon and sit up on your hands, watching with heavy lids as he grabs his phone from where he'd discarded it, bringing it down to your leaking pussy.
"Look at that," he breathes, awestruck, and your eyes trail downward to see what he sees. You feel heat return to your cheeks when you see the way his creamy white release is slowly beginning to dribble out of you and onto the towel.
"Wow, that's a lot," you whisper with a faint little giggle, eyes coming back up to look at his face as he watches it drip. You're not sure he hears you, intensely focused on where you're swollen and leaking, but you don't mind. You push back lazily on your hands and smile fondly at him as he takes his precious photos. In the afterglow, you find that the shutter sounds aren't that annoying, not really.
"Open her up for me, baby," he tells you softly, "Spread her wide and push it out."
You sit up a little, feeling drowsy and dreamy as you reach down and pull yourself open with your hands. You apply a little pressure, closing your eyes in a daze and hearing the wet little sounds as you push his cum out of you and onto the towel. You hear him groan, hear the shutter sounds again, and you can't help but grin.
"Are they good?" you ask him, genuinely wondering, "Is she pretty?" As you speak you pull yourself a little wider, allow him to take one more picture as close inside as possible before he pulls it away.
He looks up from his handiwork with that familiar soft smile on his face again, brown eyes shimmering in the sun that's already beginning to set, "You're perfect," he tells you, "And don't argue with me, I just gave you almost two thousand dollars."
You snort, releasing yourself and falling backwards onto the towel to stare up at the sky. Your limbs feel heavy, eyelids drooping as you watch Joel in your periphery slipping his soft cock back into his trunks, as well as his phone.
"It's real money, right?" you ask, a little unsure.
"I promise it's real money," he says with a chuckle, walking over to stand over you, "D'you wanna come back to my hotel with me and get cleaned up? Maybe have some more fun?"
You bite your lip, "Would you pay me?"
"I'd pay you."
Admittedly, as reality begins to wash over you, the idea doesn't sound anywhere near as appealing as it might have an hour ago. With a little effort, you sit up again and reach for your bikini, half buried in the sand near your feet.
"Nah, I think I'm good."
Joel reaches his arm down and you take it, letting him help you to your feet. As you put your bikini back on, you watch with a little smile as he digs the rest of your money out of his wallet, slipping it into your purse like it's just second nature at this point - which, it basically is. He stands there then, a little awkwardly, like he's not sure what to say.
"Well, uh, thank you, darlin'," he finally says, taking a step back and nodding toward you with a kind expression, "Not many girls would have, um... not many would've done this. I'd offer you my number, but I get the feeling that's not what this is."
You wince, shaking your head, "Yeah, this, uh- this isn't gonna go anywhere, sorry. But it was fun."
He nods, "It was. And, I mean, those pictures aren't just gonna collect dust, I can tell you that much."
You laugh, walking forward a little to pick up your bag. You stop in front of him and, after hesitating for only a moment, lean forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. Just a peck - a goodbye.
"Have a good rest of your summer," you tell him as you pull away, heat rising in your cheeks again as he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, "And uh- maybe try to be a little more covert with that camera."
This time it's his turn to blush, his cheeks tinging a dark shade of pink as he laughs and tosses you a wave, turning to begin walking away from you. He only makes it a few steps, and then-
"Hey, Joel?"
He turns on the spot, a hopeful look in his expression that makes you wonder, if only for a moment, that maybe you're making the wrong choice.
"You're not really a photographer, are you?"
His blush deepens, a look of embarrassment crossing his features, "No, I'm not. But after today, I just might try my hand at it."
6K notes ¡ View notes
caramelkoo ¡ 2 months ago
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honeysuckle
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boyfriend!jungkook, established relationship, smut
summary : according to your boyfriend, a little competition won't hurt anyone especially when the game is his favorite. Making you feel good.
warnings : mature, strong language, heavy on the smut, a little fluff thrown in there, fingering, pussy slapping, he asks for consent, they're freaky, dick piercing, ass slapping, hickeys, sex in a jacuzzi, reverse cowgirl, riding, jungkook wants oc so bad, dirty talk, he calls oc sweetheart, unprotected sex. if i missed something, do let me know.
a/n : hi my loves, here’s your promised smutty treat. tbvh that picture has not left my mind ever since i saw it lmao. I love you guys so so much. You're so loved and cherished. Please don't read this in front of your parents. also @rpwprpwprpwprw was the sweetest to ask for a tag <33 xoxo
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"Oh yeah baby, just like that"
"You fuck me so good"
'Take my cock like a good slut you are"
Any other day, you're all about sex positivity and letting your body get what it wants but today of all days, your neighbors want to ruin the peace that you so desperately craved.
Your boyfriend, Jungkook had left early for a business meeting promising you to come back as soon as he gets done with it. As much as you missed him, you had felt the need to have some time for yourself. You thrive on being Jungkook's girlfriend, it's all butterfly in the stomach, princess treatment kind of love but you can't lie about wishing for some alone time just for yourself. Finally, you were getting it. You had it all planned bit by bit.
Step 1 : take an everything shower
Step 2 : cook something delicious for yourself while wave to earth plays in the background
Step 3 : read a romantasy novel you've been anticipating for a long time.
Step 4 : if sleepy, sleep. If not, take out your pink best friend from the bedside drawer and seek your pleasure listening to Jungkook's voice recording you had him record the other day. It always works.
Step 3 and you're already at the verge of giving up. It appears the people next door didn't exactly like your plan and they wanted to make you realize how lonely you are. Screaming at your face, "Haha guess who's not getting a dick". God forbid if a girl wants to have quite and peaceful night while romanticizing the shit out of it.
You slam the book on the bed and sigh. For a second you consider calling Jungkook but stop when you realize that you'll only be hindering his work. What are you even going to tell him? that you can't read because your neighbors have been fucking each other for hours now? No, that's just stupid.
Taking off your reading glasses you make your way to the kitchen. If you can't get sleep tonight, you might as well give them a tough fight. When and if they decide to let their horny asses take a break and decide to doze off, they'd catch on to the fact that there's someone next door whose mama didn't raise a quitter. Immature? you don't think so.
Once the woman's voice on the speaker alerts you that your phone has been connected, you start off with your favorite go to song when you need to cry your eyes out. "Fuck to an emotional song now" you think.
Coming in terms with the fact that you might have to pull an all nighter, you begin making coffee. The word itself brings a smile on your face. Coffee, which got you through your med school. Coffee, which got you Jungkook.
If you really think about it, hadn't you mustered up the courage to go on a solo date that day and have a coffee all by yourself you wouldn't have crossed your paths with him. It's funny actually because how many couples do actually last this long after meeting at a random coffee shop?
After dating douchebags for almost three years you had taken a break from dating all together. It was high time you focused on yourself. Honestly, it's not like they were the only one who was messed up in your previous relationships. You had some parts you had to heal as well and the moment you caught up on that, you went on a journey. Journey to self love, journey to find yourself and a journey which will leave you not perfect but healed.
As for the dimwits you dated in the past, sometimes it was "why do you always have to be like this? how much more space do you need?" or, "What do you mean you don't want to have sex right now? C'mon don't be a spoilsport".
Spoilsport, your ass.
Standing up on your tippy toes, your hands reach out for the coffee container but before you could even settle your foot down on the floor, two arms circle around your waist making you gasp in utter shock.
The need to defend yourself takes so strongly over you that you don't even turn around in order to check the person before your elbow connects with their nose.
When you finally do, you can't stop the scream from leaving your mouth. Your face all red and your eyes as big as saucers.
You panic, "JUNGKOOK?"
When you see blood oozing out of his left nostril after he lifts his face, you mentally curse your sister for forcing you to take self defense classes.
"What's with the song, sweetheart?"
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"I told you you were gonna be my death someday but who knew it was gonna be tonight"
After cleaning up his nose and giving him a cup of coffee, you both were now sitting on the couch. You had turned off the music, though. God knew it was not making the situation any better.
You take a sip before speaking, "Oh, don't be dramatic. Who comes home like this and at this hour?"
"My flight was late, sweetheart. I wanted to get to you much sooner but destiny had plans--" he gets cut off as his eyebrows crease in wonder.
"What was that?"
"The neighbors. They have been going at it for hours now" you shake your head in disbelief.
"For hours? That's some stamina I must say" he breaks out in a fit of laughter as you place your cup on the table in front of you.
Turning towards him you ask, "You find this funny? I haven't been able to sleep because of them"
Your voice comes out a bit whiny and you wonder if you're acting a bit childish.
"Oh, sweetheart. How about this, I take a quick shower and we cuddle to sleep" a mixture of warmth and concern crossing his face.
Your smile is wide when you say, "I'd love that"
Jungkook finishes his coffee and pecks your lips as he saunters towards the bathroom. However, when he turns back and says the most unforeseen thing, your silly mind doesn't even think twice.
"Actually, _____. Why don't you join me?"
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Bubbles form inside the jacuzzi as smoke fills your surroundings. The smell of warm water hits your nose making it feel tingly. Your stomach is doing summersaults as your boyfriend lets you down inside the water, heart skipping a beat.
Only when Jungkook lets himself sit on the other side of the tub, you can finally take a deep breath. His eyes never leaving yours. When you're with him, there's nothing you care about. Not your horny neighbors, not the world, nothing. It's just him and his presence that lights you up. A smile that could rival the sun.
Him.
Your fingers play with the water as you try to make a conversation. This moment right here, is peak level of intimacy for you. You're both naked, exposed and vulnerable yet you've never felt safer. Not to mention how you feel like a high school girl trying to talk to his crush.
When you were young, the bathroom was the only place you could run and cry in and no one judged you. The four walled room provided more comfort than people in your life. It holds memories but when you moved in with your boyfriend, you left those at your old house. To rot, because what else?
With him, every corner, every space in your house feels pure and blissful. It’s filled with laughter, moans and him.
Jungkook's legs are lightly brushing yours every now and then, the movement sending shivers down your spine. What's happening to you?
"So, how was the business trip?"
"On a scale of one to ten, how funny is it that you wanna talk about business while looking like that and all I wanna do is fuck that sweet mouth of yours because of how much I missed it?"
You shudder, the effect he has on you is beyond belief and now with the expression crossing his face, pure lust and longing, it's as though somebody has set your whole body on fire. A mix of hot and cold feeling running through your veins.
"Jungkook"
"Come here"
"Wh-"
He cuts you off, "Come here, sweetheart. Come to me before I lose my ever loving mind'
You don't have an option other than to scoot your way towards him. He positions your body between his legs, his taut and muscular chest touching your wet back.
Wetness pools between your legs as his hardness presses at your lower hip just above your ass. Your pussy throbs with need and you stop yourself from reaching down to relieve that tension.
His fingers ever so lightly graze over your arm, frequently making drawings on it.
"How long did you say they were going at it?"
You look at him, "About three hours. Why?"
He's up to something. You can feel it in your bones.
"Do you think they're still gonna be able to fuck each other after hearing your screams through the wall, sweetheart?"
Fuck. The idea of making them listen to you while your boyfriend fucks you into oblivion doesn't sound so bad. You missed him, you missed being in his arms and you missed him being inside you as well. So, where's the harm in that?
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"You wanna give them a show? Let them know how well your man fucks you?"
The moan that leaves her as she lets her head fall back heavy on his chest tells him everything her words can't.
"Jungkook, please. It's been so long" she cries out.
She stirs making herself more comfortable but that just makes him hiss through his teeth as her ass grazes his cock, the metal on the tip leaving a cool sensation. He's not gonna give in easily though. He will make her earn that release.
His hands cup her tits, fully covering them and they fit so perfectly in his hands. Heavy, full, perfect. As if they're made just for him to suck, him to cup, him to cum on, him to leave purple love bites on.
"I know, sweetheart. Do you wanna know what I kept thinking about while I was away?" his voice trails off, "I kept thinking about how bad I wanna fuck your throat"
The sound that leaves her is filled with need.
"Jungkook, baby please."
He trails his hands down her chest and stomach before it reaches her pussy. Just around her clit. His finger are soft and light, not putting pressure when all she wants is for him to give her the release she so badly craves.
Jungkook's cock is already leaking with precum and his balls ache. He missed his girl so fucking much, so much that he lost count of how many times he had fucked his hand while thinking of her while he was away. When his colleagues saw his flushed face, he had no other option than to blame it on the cold weather.
His finger slide down and back up her slit, making her visibly shiver.
Shit. He's not gonna last long if she keeps making those noises.
"How many finger do you want, _____?" he asks as repeats the same motion.
His mouth comes on her in a searing kiss, it's possessive, passionate, burning and everything nasty. He's straight up claiming her mouth as her tongue tangles with his own.
Pulling back he waits for her response, "Two. Please"
Following her command, his two fingers slide inside her. He tightens the hold on her stomach to have her stay in place when she bucks her hips forward.
She screams.
"That's my girl"
He slides his finger out before sinking it deep inside her cunt again. Crooking them in such a way that he hits her g-spot. Desperate moans fill the room mixing with the steam coming out of the hot water. Her hands ghost over his, fastening his pace.
"You want it faster, sweetheart?"
"Yes, much faster. I wanna cum so bad"
Happy to give her what she wants, he begins rubbing at her clit while his other fingers work their way in and out her wet cunt.
"Oh my fucking god"
"That's right. Get what you want. Such a good girl for me"
He's an animal at this point as he tries to mark her his more than she already is. Jungkook has always been open about sex with his girlfriend, his needs, his wants, his desires and she'd done the same. You compliment each other perfectly. It's easier that way, not leaving any room for doubts.
She like dirty talk, he gives it to her.
When her hips lift forward matching his thrusts, he smirks. Biting her slender neck as she chases her orgasm.
"Aghh"
It finally happens, her hands grasp his even more tightly, other hand gripping the edge of the jacuzzi as she lets out a scream. Her breath fastens as sweat beads her forehead, Jungkook never stopping with his praises.
When she settles back down between his legs, he takes his finger out and sucks them clean. Brown eyes never leaving hers.
"Do you think they heard us, sweetheart?"
Her laughter brings smile to his face, "You're crazy"
"And you're mine" He pecks her cheek, letting his lips linger there for a bit. Basking in the feeling of her love's skin against his lips.
At the beginning of your relationship when you were just getting comfortable with intimacy, jungkook loved kissing her cheek. It was his way of showing her that she's adored by him. Then he realised that quite frankly, it's her. He likes kissing so much because it's her that he's kissing.
He holds her for a while before speaking up, "You wanna help me with a problem?"
He doesn't need to tell her twice but soon as her next words leave her mouth, he takes a double take.
"Sit on the edge and I'll suck you off" he hears her say as she kneels before him.
"Later" he grabs her by her shoulders as he positions her back between his legs. This time facing him.
Her legs wrap around his waist and his thick cock presses against her navel. He knows how badly she wanted to take him into her mouth and he could have let her do that only if he was strong enough to resist himself from sinking deep inside her.
"Now, I wanna fuck you. Raw and nice just like my girlfriend deserves" his voice comes out breathy.
"I love you"
"Me too, sweetheart. More than you know" he assures.
Knowing he can't take it anymore, he lifts her up and sits her body down on his cock. Slowly by slowly as she moans her way through it. ____'s head falls into the crook of his neck and his grip tightens on the curve of her waist. The ampallang piercing multiplies the pleasure tenfold as you both roll your eyes at the back of your head.
Jungkook got madly drunk the other day and came back with a dick piercing which resulted in her getting mad at him and him fucking her to show how good it gets with it.
Having said that, he presses a searing kiss on her lips and his breath knocks out of his chest in the process. It's almost like he's dreaming. The feel of her body on him, his cock deep inside ____, her arms caging him. It all feels surreal. At this point, the neighbors are long forgotten. It's you and him now.
He takes one of her sensitive buds in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Moving it in circular motions.
The next few seconds involve him spanking her ass as if he wants to leave marks, him guiding her up and down his cock as she bounces and giving her frequent kisses. Wet slapping noises fill the entire room as his balls ache with need.
"So good, baby. You feel so fucking good. Wrapped around me like this while I fuck you good, huh?" he slaps her pussy lightly.
Thrust Thrust Thrust
As she falls back again into his arms, crying loudly with utter pleasure, he tightens his hold on her body. Hugging her close as both of your heartbeats sync together.
"Thank you for letting me love you, sweetheart. Thank you for coming into my boring ass life and filling it with laughter. Fuck"
Your sweaty and now tired bodies are wrapped around each other as you both revel in the warmth of intimacy.
He lets out a grown followed by her whine and before he can say anything, you’re both cumming together, sighing and kissing as you come down your high.
A chaste kiss is pressed on her forehead, "So perfect, my girl"
"That was…" you bite your lip.
"Amazing, I know" he says as he mindlessly plays with her black locks.
his hands rub her back. "Sweetheart, I want one more from you"
"One more?"
"Yeah, this time I wanna see your beautiful back. Will you do it for me?"
He tries to ask her as gently as possible. Pride filling his chest when he sees her nod.
Guiding her up with the support of her knees he sits her down on his lap, his balls brushing against her clit as he sinks back inside her. A man can only take so much before he snaps. This was the moment for him. His girl's back glistens in the most beautiful way ever. Sweat droplets mixed with water dripping down her spine that he can’t help but kiss.
"Fuck baby, you look like a goddess right now." he halts,
"So warm"
Trailing his hands up the back of her neck he threads his fingers through her hair, gripping it lightly but also putting enough pressure just so she can feel a sweet pain.
His heart skips another beat when she starts moving forward and then backwards, teasing him. Her movements are painfully slow. He wants to ask ____ to move faster but at the same time, he also wants to make this special for her.
So, he waits and watches her back arch as he feels like the luckiest man in the world.
"Jungkook" she moans his name, holding on to his thigh as he pounds into her from the back. It’s even deeper now, his cock hitting places he’d never hit before. Jungkook mentally thanks himself for trying out this new position because he’d just about take any chance to feel more connected to ____.
Just when his stomach contracts and hardens, he asks, "____ I’m gonna need you to spread those ass wider. I’m very close"
When she hums in response he gently pushes her upper body so that it’s flat on his legs, immediately letting him see more of ____'s ass. Her asshole clearly visible to him. It’s such a vulnerable position that you’re both in. Her more than him.
He has to ask her, "Sweetheart, if you don’t feel comfortable we can always stop, alright? You just have to ask"
Her whiney voice reaches his ears, "I’m okay, baby. Just- Just fuck me"
So, he does. His hips thrust forward as he fucks her mercilessly, letting her have the pleasure. She moans, he moans, she cries out, he groans. It’s unbelievably perfect. His hands roam over her smooth back, her ass and even down to her pussy. Both bodies working in a graceful sync.
Suddenly, it’s like the earth comes to a stop. His hands grip his hair while the other one grips hers. His stomach hardens, balls tightening and the moment _____ clenches around his cock, he cums inside of her. Filling her up with hot, white liquid. She follows him soon enough.
"I fucking love this body of yours"
She straightens up and lets her wet body fall heavy on his chest seeking warmth and his arms around her. He’s more than happy to do so. His muscular arms bring her closer to his chest as he relaxes.
Before the next words leave his mouth, he has to make sure ____ is sound asleep.
"I can’t wait to ask you to marry me, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you in that white dress walking towards me like the angel you are"
He hopes she says yes, he hopes the ring brings the biggest smile on her face.
He hopes.
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suiana ¡ 3 months ago
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yandere! priest and gn! succubus/incubus guys... omg...
he's a devoted little thing, so passionate to his religion and his god. his mind and heart are pure, never straying from his faith even when the most beautiful of people had thrown themselves at him.
and then you came stumbling right into his life.
you, a sex demon. all skimpy clothes, flirty and giving him bedroom eyes in a church. it was even worse that you had thrown yourself at him on your first meeting, clinging to his arm like some clingy lover.
"hey pretty boy~ wanna show me a good time?"
"the only good time i have is when I'm thinking of my god. do you want to join a sermon?"
maybe it was because he was so holy but he wasn't repulsed by you. flashing you a gentle smile as he allowed you to cling to him. oh, a sinner. how pitiful. it's no matter, if you repent enough and ask for forgiveness, he's sure that even god will accept you. he'll help you find the right path that is god. you've fallen right into his arms after all. it must be fate and perhaps he was meant to help you.
you don't quite share the same sentiment though.
you just wanna fuck that priest. his cute face, sweet little laughter... devil below you want that man. plus you hadn't fed in days... you're practically starving over here!
"come on... just some head? i bet your pretty mouth could be out to better use than some sermons."
"yes, a better use would be when I'm holding your hand and bringing you to the light of salvation."
he's always so calm and composed. all smiles and a calm demeanour that never exposes what he's feeling. even his eyes are smiling, damn. it's a bit scary that you can't accurately tell what he's feeling. the only thing you have is the slightly obsessive and unsettling darkness his eyes seem to contain. nah, can't be anything much. he's just a priest who wants to play hard to get.
it's infuriating, you think.
you continue to hold on a little longer. maybe he'll crack sooner or later? he's just a man after all... and you're a gorgeous thing meant for temptation... he'll give in right? right? you continue pestering him, clinging to his side as you ignore the horrified looks the other clerics and church goers give you as you beg for the monstrous dick you know he's packing.
but he doesn't show any signs of budging and you eventually try leaving because you're so starved that it hurts. like damn! you still need to feed! and if he's not gonna give it to you, you'll just find someone else!
however...
"where do you think you're doing?"
"huh? priesty boy? you following me?"
"yes."
"???"
you're confused as he practically rips you off of the random guy you picked off the street, dragging you back to the church with him. and all while he continued to smile at you like he always has. only this time, this smile harboured some... ill intent.
"oi at least tell me what you're doing-"
"i am going to punish you."
"punish?"
he stops in his tracks, turning to smile at you as hus grip around your wrist tightens painfully. you wince at the force he's using, desperately trying to tug your hand away. what the hell?
the priest doesn't let you. if anything, his grip only tightened even more. what's worse is that he's now punning you to the wall, caging you in as he stares down deep into your soul with his deep and unnerving eyes.
"yes, punish."
he continues to smile at you, simply caging you against the wall before his voice drops.
"it's the job of a priest to guide newcomers to repentance and i intend to do that with you. yet, you've almost committed an act of sin. i cannot allow that to pass, my dear."
what the- what is he doing?!
"you'll understand once I'm done with you. after all, the god above has personally given you to me as a mission and a gift."
he mumbles, leaning into your lips before his smile lowers into a creepy and unsettling smirk. bruh you might be a demon but this guy right here has got to be the devil's spawn or something. what is he yapping about? gift? mission? you just want some dick!
"hey I don't understand-"
"of course you don't. you're confused."
he cuts you off before you can say anything. his face way too close for comfort as you try sinking into the wall. um... you don't think you wanna play anymore...
"it's okay. I'll help you understand. I'll help you understand your true purpose and that is to repent and be born anew."
he pauses, tilting his head before his smile widens unnaturally.
"that way we can actually be together under the eyes of god. you want to copulate, yeah?"
huh? what's sex gotta do with this?
"after you've finally repented, I'll give you what you want. sex is an intimate and special thing between two people in love. don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for you to fall for me."
wait what?!
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acid-ixx ¡ 4 months ago
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lovefool by the cardigans
— series concept ft. soft yandere dc! x bimbo/himbo reader
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soft yandere! dc characters x himbo/bimbo/careless reader... who's just a bundle of joy to be with... where all the villains have an agreement to never mess with you, hell even kidnap you occasionally from the arms of the heroes just to hear you rant endlessly about your 'mundane' life as if you weren't just abducted... where the heroes would quite frankly sometimes have to put you in some sort of human leash because you wouldn't literally panic if there's a gun pointed against you...
the urge to make a shitpost/romcom series just because i listened to lovefool by the cardigans... no idea of platonic/romantic but i'm just moving on with the flow... a bit more on the romantic side ig...
i'm going feral at the thought of a wild goose chase with you, because one second you're bundled up in the arms of the justice league, each one of them scheduled to strictly watch over you, another is stationed near the door as they'd be the one to get you anything you want or need— then suddenly you're at a villain's lair that houses all the bad guys and then oops! you accidentally inhaled the scarecrow's fear gas but you're not reacting?! is your mind filled with air...? all your response was a quirk of your eyebrows and a question that's just "is there any signal here? the league told me to call me if i'm in any trouble...?" which then you would quickly take back and instead would smile at them like some goons didn't just threaten you with a knife to your neck just because you screamed, calling the scarecrow's mask a sack of moving, possessed potatoes.
originally, most villains would whisk you away from the arms of your vigilante babysitters but then they discover you're just a bundle of joy who laughs at the shittiest joke anyone could make, who snorts at their 'funny' antics and words, who grins when they take pictures of you to use as bait that you're being held hostage. it kind of goes to the point that their original plans all go to waste and they decide to just, take you all for themselves. they don't even know how you were able to survive being thrown around carelessly by the shoulders of big, muscular men, but they're more jealous at the image of you giggling and running your hands through muscles arms and toned abs; so they took it in themself to be the ones to guide you through your now makeshift room, hoping you would fawn over them with those cute stars in your eyes...
and if you were taken back into the arms of the vigilantes? oh god, the heroes can't even scold you because you'd be already hugging the next person in the room, babbling endlessly about your adventures with the villains and ignoring their seething envy with just how much you brag about how some are "too hot to be evil! i think i can change them!" because why are you talking about some randoms who just kidnapped you for their own gain when you have them right there? no way are you now getting out of their sights, them trying so hard to even distract you from going outside because "it's just too dangerous to be out there, boo! you're safe with us."
and you just nod your head with that toothy grin of your! are you seriously unaware of how much the richest of the rich are willing to pay for just an hour of your already shining presence? hell, you're just too... out of it, to the point you'll be the one who discovers their secret identities just by accidentally noticing details that nobody with functioning thoughts would even think about.
"batman! you must be bruce wayne, right?" you randomly approach him one day, with a foot tapping the floor impatiently. you stare at him like you had made a scientific discovery.
"... how do you know...?"
"'cause you're both hot and rich and whenever i get a feel of mr. wayne's abs, they're the same size as yours—!" and you continue to guess his children's identities all correctly with a quip of how hot they are or how you wish one you were fit and toned enough to have honkers as big as them...
... that night, you're spending it in the batcave with bruce and his children trying their damn best to brainwash you into keeping their identities a secret, to which you reply with a nod and an airheaded smile. but then the moment they remove you from the straps constricting you in a comfy bed, you'll be running off to alfred, ranting about how you can't believe that you guessed their personas right and if he knew it all along too...
huh, guess that's what makes you all the more charming.
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a/n: please do comment or send in asks if you're interested in this as much as i am... i wrote this in quick succession and altho i am planning to make this series a shitpost one or a lighthearted romcom one, i rlly want to amp the yandere-ness hehe. it was fun writing this albeit it being written in about 10 minutes or less. ignore the header ill change it soon 🫦
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purplecoffee13 ¡ 5 months ago
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Please Please Please - Pt 2* (final)
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Summary: “A sudden call from Harry in the middle of the night makes you realize just how little you actually know about your neighbor.”
Wc: 5k
Tropes: good girl x bad boy / neighbors
Warnings: angst, fighting, cursing, SMUT, bit of a degradation kink, multiple orgasms, GUN KINK, corruption kink
A/N: Hey guys! As promised, here is part 2 of Pls Pls Pls. It is quite a sudden 180 from the previous part, so try not to get whiplash. Enjoy!! :)
General Masterlist
Spending your Sunday night at a police station bailing out your neighbor was definitely not on your list of preferred weekend activities. But here you are, sitting on a chair, waiting for the officers to bring Harry outside.
You couldn't believe it at first. Of course, you knew it had to be some kind of emergency when your ringing phone woke you up. After all, it was two in the morning, and random calls at two in the morning usually didn't indicate anything good.
"Hello?" Your croaky voice greeted whoever was calling you this late, or early, depending on your lifestyle.
"Hi love. I need your help." You frowned at the sound of Harry talking through the phone.
"Harry?" You questioned.
"Yes, darling?"
"Wha— are you okay? Where are you?" You leaned over your nightstand to turn on the lamp. Your eyes shut tightly at the sudden harsh light, rubbing your eyes as you stifled a yawn.
"I'm fine, I'm at the police station. Listen, I need you to go into my apartment, get the envelope with cash from under my mattress, and then I need you to get over here. Could you do that for me, darling?"
"Uhm, yes. Yes, of course." You got up from your bed and grabbed the first pants you saw. Your movements got to a halt when you realized it would be impossible to even do that. "But wait, I don't have your—"
"There's an extra key in your top kitchen drawer next to the fridge."
"Wha..." your voice trailed off as you buried over to your kitchen and opened the drawer, indeed finding a key that didn't belong to your apartment. "When did you put this here?"
"I'll explain later, I promise. See you in a bit?"
You sighed. What the absolute fuck was going on? This man might just be even more mysterious than you had already thought.
"See you in a bit."
The muffled voices coming from the other side of the door makes your perk up in your seat. Like you had expected, you spot Harry's face through the windows on the door. He is wearing a frown that makes him look very intimidating, and a wave of intense stress hits you.
Who the fuck even is this neighbor of yours?
You are on your feet very quickly when Harry finally walks through the door. Your eyes widen at the state of him. He is wearing a tank top with a dress shirt thrown over it. The dress shirt is scratched open and his entire outfit is dirty. His face is mostly untouched, except for a cut in his eyebrow that is covered in dried blood. He looks rough.
His lips form into a grin when he spots you, but you are having none of it. Your knitted eyebrows make your glare more intense, and you don't even give Harry the opportunity to greet you when he is close enough, because you are already walking towards the exit.
You push the doors open and storm across the parking lot. You hear the chuckling scoff from behind you after the creaking door signals that Harry is hot on your heels.
"What's wrong sweetheart?" He asks almost cockily, strutting behind you. You've arrived at your car, so you turn around to face him, shaking your head in disbelief.
"Are you serious?!" You groan, to which Harry shrugs lazily. "You called me in the middle of the night, asking me to bail you out with money that you've hid in a duffel bag under your bed, which — by the way — I had access to because you planted a spare house key in my apartment! That's what wrong!"
"I told you I'd explain." Harry says, still nonchalant as ever. You can quite literally feel your blood boiling. Why in God's name is he being so relaxed about this? 
"Yeah, you fucking better." You spit out, clenching your jaw as you turn back towards the car. Harry's spiteful voice stops you in your tracks, though.
"Hey! You didn't have to come here, nobody forced you."
When your eyes meet his again, you don't miss the frustration that radiates from his. It is your turn to scoff as you take a few steps towards Harry until you stand in front of him.
"Oh yeah, that's fucking easy," you are about ready to start a fight, but the sight of his bruised face makes you think twice. Instead, you sigh, throwing your arms over each other. "Get in the car, we'll talk at home."
You are about to get back to the car when you realize that Harry isn't following you. You squint at him and the way he is standing there on the parking lot, a wide stance with his hands behind his back. He doesn't do well with following orders or demands, you've learned that about him in these past weeks. But right now, you couldn't care less.
Rolling your eyes, you march back to Harry and grab a fistful of his shirt before pulling him along to the passenger seat. By how easy it is to get him in the car, you figure that he enjoys your current attitude, otherwise he never would've let you boss him around like this.
You aren't interested in whether he likes it or not right now, all you care about it getting home.
The drive is excruciating. The radio fills the silence that neither of you are willing to break. Every shift in his seat and sigh from his mouth manages to make your blood boil. You can't believe he has the nerve to act as if he has the right to be pissed right now.
It is only when the both of you are at your door, and you silently walk into your own apartment, that Harry breaks the silence.
"Where are you going?" He asks, irritated.
"Bed."
"Thought you wanted to talk." His tone his mocking, but you can tell that he is hiding real confusion behind it.
"I decided I'm not in the mood to hear your bullshit excuses right now, maybe tomorrow." You shrug, keys rattling as you open the door.
"So dramatic..." Harry mutters under his breath, but you hear him just fine. You are quick to turn around.
"What did you say?"
Harry shakes his head, sighing. "You heard me. If you're so fucking mad about this, why the fuck did you even come in the first place?"
"Well, what the fuck did you think, Harry?! Did you expect me to be all cool and casual about this?!" You throw your hands up expressively. You turn around and open the door of your apartment, walking in at a furious pace with Harry hot on your heels.
"I told you I'd fucking explain! Jesus Christ... If I'd known you were gonna whine about this so much, I would've called one of my buddies." He says, and it makes you stifle a laugh. Hands on your hips, you take a few steps towards Harry.
"Fine, explain then, tell me what the fuck you were doing in there." You demand, and you notice how his face softens at your calmer yet stern tone. He sighs, looking to the side. Your heart stops for a second, tension growing on your stomach. He is avoiding your gaze. He never avoids it.
"Just— got caught up in a brawl at the pub. Let my buddies take a run for it, but the police did catch me." He says, eyeing your body. You frown, your eyes searching for his but you absolutely cannot get him to look at you.
"You're lying to me." You say, and even though it is merely a suggestive thought, Harry's reaction makes you realize you are speaking the truth. Harry takes a deep breath, shaking his head as if it should be able to convince you. "You're a fucking liar."
You step forward, making sure it is impossible to avoid eye contact with you. "You told me you were letting me know you. But you don't want me to know you. Telling me simple things to give me the illusion that you trust me. Meanwhile your knuckles are constantly covered in bruises and you have duffel bags of money in your bed. Or that gun, in the drawer of your nightstand?"
A furrow grows between Harry's eyebrows at the mention of the gun. "You went through my things?" He growls. You nod calmly.
"I figured I might as well get to know the guy I'm bailing out." You shrug, watching the anger rise to his face.
"Do you have any idea who the fuck you're talking to right now?" He asks, near the brink of a meltdown. His jaw is clenched and he looks like he might kill you.
"No, apparently I don't!" You shout into his face. Harry laughs bitterly, sending a shiver down your spine. He shakes his head and turns around, heading for the door.
"Should've called one of my buddies..." He mutters as he goes to open the door.
"You keep saying that, but you called me." You call out, and Harry looks back at you.
"Yeah, and it was a big fucking mistake. Don't know what I was thinking." He retorts.
"You called me, because you knew that I'd come. Because I care about you and I was worried sick, and because I would come and get you every single fucking time. No matter the situation, no matter the amount of money filled duffel bags you have under your bed, no matter the gun you sleep next to every night." You're now standing in front of Harry, looking up at him. The confrontation in your sentence is rubbing him the wrong way, you can see it in his face. You continue anyway; he needs to hear it.
"But you're too much of a pussy to admit that someone cares about you, unconditionally, because that would make it all a bit too real, wouldn't it? But I'm not disposable, you can't just cut me out of your life whenever you please. That's not how this works."
That strikes a nerve. Harry steps even closer, leaning down a little bit. "You have no fucking idea how easily I can cut you out of my life."
"Go, then." You cross your arms, waiting for him to walk out that door. Your words are cocky, and you are confident in what you are saying, but a small part of you worries that maybe you've miscalculated your connection with Harry.
Harry doesn't say anything, merely scoffing at your casual words. He wants to turn around, walk out, and never come back. To prove to you just how disposable you are. But he can't, because you aren't.
"For fucks sake..."
The words fall from his lips in a whisper, and before you can figure out what he means, Harry lunges forward and grabs your head to pull it close to him, his lips pressing against yours.
You moan at the feel of his tongue intertwining with yours, and you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you. There is so much anger, frustration, sadness, love, and other indescribable things that built the intensity of the kiss. Nothing could've prepared you.
He pushes you against the wall, his hands taking all over your body while yours are tangling themselves in his beautiful curls. With a hand on your lower back, Harry pulls your body closer to his, your bodies almost as close as your tongues are now. You need more of him.
Taking ahold of your thighs, Harry lifts you up and carries you to your bedroom, where he drops you onto the bed. Your back hasn't even entirely hit the mattress before Harry's hands start undressing you. He takes off your shoes and pants in no time, the both of you way too pent up to take your time right now. Then, he slides your underwear down your legs and throwing it into the corner of the room.
Three of his fingers trace over your upper body before he pushes down your lower jaw and stuffs them in your mouth.
"Suck." He orders.
You do as he says, licking and sucking on his fingers like it is the last thing you are ever allowed to do. After a couple seconds, Harry takes back his fingers, and leans down, spitting on your pussy himself. A whimper leaves your mouth the second the liquid comes in contact with your sensitive skin, and you moan loudly when he starts to rub it over your cunt.
"You're so fucking frustrating. Shouting at me, cursing me out..." He mentions. Two of his wet fingers enter your pussy, and you let your head fall back. Refraining yourself from arching into him too much already, you try and focus on something—anything— else. "You're such a brat... and you don't even know who you're dealing with."
Mewling at the feeling of his amazing touch, you manage to croak out. "Show me, then."
"What, sweetheart?" Harry asks with a fake smile. In fact, it seems rather devilish. It shouldn't turn you on even more, but for some fucked up reason it does.
"Show me who I'm dealing with."
A low chuckle escapes his throat. You frown, not amused with the apparent joy he gets from what you're saying. You're being completely serious.
"I don't think you can handle that, sweetheart." He smirks, and it makes you pout.
"Yes, I can." You argue, the frown on your face combined with your big Bambi eyes making you look adorably mad. Harry sighs, clearly entertained by your stubbornness. Without another word, he leans forward and digs his head between your legs. You cry out at the contact of his tongue with your clit, and repeatedly moan his name at the mix of his fingers and tongue driving you properly insane.
Your hips keep shooting upward, and Harry tries to contain your non-stop squirming by pushing down your hips with his free arm. He doesn't restrain you entirely, liking the view of you falling apart for him too much anyway.
When you reach your climax, your hand has found Harry's hair, on which you mercilessly tug while making a mess below him. After riding out your high, Harry grabs your arm and scoops an arm around your waist before picking you up and slinging you over his shoulder.
"What are you doing?!" You shriek, being able to do nothing but hang over him like a ragdoll as he walks out of the bedroom and, towards the front door?
You gasp when he opens the door and you find yourself in the hallway, without any pants on. You hear the sound of keys jingling and a door open, and before you can demand Harry let you go, he waltzes into his own apartment.
His dark walls and furniture are the exact opposite of your apartment. Very manly, very serious.
Harry puts you down, laying you on his couch. He leans forward, his hand sneaking under your shirt to fondle your breast. You bite your lip at the feeling of his firm hands massaging you.
"You wanna know me? You want to know who you're dealing with?" He whispers, and you nod furiously, not being able to go without his touch down there for much longer. "We'll start with a house tour then. This is the living room."
You frown, it's not like his apartment is much different from yours. You look around the room, but your attention is back on Harry the second his mouth is back on your cunt. You mewl, not having expected his mouth on you again so soon.
Harry's skilled tongue along with the sensitivity from your first orgasm gets you closer and closer in an almost embarrassingly short time. Your legs try to control the amount of pleasure that you are getting, but Harry's hands keep spreading them apart, leaving you with no choice but to take everything he gives you.
"I— I'm gonna come!" You groan, that tension in your stomach so close to exploding. He keeps the quick paced tempo with which his tongue is assaulting your clit, and in no time you are twitching as your orgasm washes over you. Harry moans at the way you cry out his name, and licks you clean despite the pleas that tell him to stop because you're too sensitive.
You don't have time to steady your breathing, because Harry is already pulling you up and leading you to the kitchen. He doesn't waste any time, taking off your shirt, leaving you entirely naked. You watch as he takes your body in, your mind too cloudy to feel insecure. But with the way Harry looks at you, you don't think you would've worried about that in the first place.
His eyes rake down your body as he takes off his belt, and walks closer to you. Your hands reach forward, wanting to take off his shirt, but Harry grabs one of your wrists and turns you around. Taking ahold of the other wrist, he ties your hands together with his belt before bending you over his counter.
"My house, my rules." His low voice reminds you, making you shiver in anticipation. You hear some ruffling behind you, and you can only figure that Harry has taken off his pants. His hand rubs over your skin, lowering from your waist to your ass.
"Poor girl, you have no idea what you got yourself into." He taunts, his cock lining up with your pussy, the top of him stroking over your soaking wet cunt. You whine at the minimal contact, needing him to enter you right this second. You flinch forward, moaning loudly when Harry brings his hand down onto your ass. The sting of it almost makes you cry, you want him so bad.
"Please, please... please." you cry, pushing yourself backwards and into him. He pushes you back forward, tutting you.
"So desperate..."
Not being able to hold it any longer, Harry plunges his hard cock into you. A muffled cry escapes your throat, shocked by the size and girth of him. Of course you aren't entirely surprised—he just exceeds that kind of energy—but you hadn't dreamed of it being this big.
"Ah, shit! Harry... oh my god!" The string of words summed up exactly what you were feeling as he thrusted himself into you over and over again: everything.
"You don't know how long I've been wanting to do this..." He says, his hands sliding up and down your back. "Ever since you knocked on my fucking door wearing nothing but that oversized shirt."
"And now here you are, bent over my counter, letting me fuck you in every corner of my apartment." He groans, spanking your ass again. You shoot forward at the impact, moaning at the painful feeling. You didn't know that turned you on so much until now.
"W— What took you so long?" You have the nerve to ask him, but by the laugh that sounded from behind you, it seems that Harry likes your boldness.
"I'm a bad guy, sweetheart. Didn't want to ruin you." He coos, which is extremely contradicting to the harsh thrusts with which he drives himself into you. "But I guess that's too late now."
"I was yours to ruin anyway." You say softly, and it makes Harry still inside of you, followed by a very deep groan. You frown when you feel Harry pulling his cock out of you, confused by the sudden change.
"Fuck, baby. You can't just say shit like that to me, nearly made me come." He is breathing heavily, and tugs on your arms to make you stand up straight. He begins to walk away and grabs your arm, taking you with him. You follow him all the way to a door, which you realize is his bedroom as soon as he opens it.
You are about to ask him about a photograph that his hanging on his wall, when he pushes you onto the bed. Hands still tied behind your back, you let Harry get you a little bit higher on the bed before positioning himself in front of you again.
He spreads your legs as wide as he can, fingers dug into your waistline as he enters you again. You let your head fall back, knitting your eyebrows at how those short seconds without his cock have made his second time entering feel just as tight as the first time. Harry seems to think the same thing, moaning loudly at the tightness of you.
Arching your back, Harry gets an amazing view of your tits bouncing back and forth as he fucks you like you're some sort of ragdoll. He can't help but reach for your breasts again, playing with them and trying not too orgasm too soon upon hearing your loud moans.
You feel like you are on sensory overload. The restraint, the nipple stimulation, and Harry's cock pounding into you, it is bringing you into another galaxy. You never thought it was possible to feel this much pleasure at the same time.
"You are mine to ruin." Harry mumbles, as if reminding himself. You nod at his words, wholeheartedly agreeing with that. If ruining meant him fucking you like this every day, then he could do whatever he wanted.
"Mm, you love that, don't you?" He asks. You open your eyes to look at him, a devilish smile forming on your face. "You love that I'm the monster who you're supposed to be running from. I bet you fantasize about it all the time; the big bad guy corrupting you from your innocence by fucking you into oblivion."
"Yes, yes, yes..." you repeat, too fucked out to say anything else.
"Such a bad girl, getting pounded by her dangerous neighbor." He taunts you, increasing his already quick pace. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, letting the pleasure just wash over you. You feel like you might pass out any minute, but you've also never felt more alive. "You'd let me do it all, won't you?"
"Anything." You pant, struggling to keep your eyes open. You shriek when Harry thrusts into you very deeply and stays there for a couple seconds, leaning over you to grab something. You gasp when you Harry holding his gun. Before you can ask him what the fuck he thinks he's doing, he starts moving again.
It shouldn't be the reason why you're so close to your orgasm all of a sudden, but the sight of Harry holding that gun is quite literally driving you insane. You can't believe it, it is the hottest thing you have ever seen.
To your surprise, he begins to trace lines over your body with the barrel of the gun. You whimper at the cold feeling of the object against your skin, not sure how long you're going to be able to hold in that third orgasm. Then, the gun travels upwards, all the way to your mouth, and your eyes widen when the words leave Harry's pink lips.
"Suck."
You look down at the gun, and back at him, a bit unsure of how safe it is, despite wanting to obey him very badly.
"Safety's on." He adds, calming your nerves a bit. And without a second thought, without considering you are doing a very dangerous thing right now, you take the gun in your mouth. In spite of Harry's vagueness, you trust him very much.
And so you begin sucking on the gun, moaning at the way Harry reacts to it. His thrusts increase in speed and intensity, and the way he massages your breasts are getting you incredibly close.
"Fuck, you're insane. You're fucking perfect." His compliments have you clenching your walls around him, something he doesn't miss. "Are you gonna come for me again, baby? Should've known that danger turns you on so much. Will do anything to keep me close, huh? Even taking my gun in your mouth while you get ruined by my cock."
"Yes, anything—oh fuck! I'm gonna cum!" The words are barely comprehensible with your mouth still filled up with the barrel of his gun, but your body tells Harry enough. Licking the pad of his thumb, he brings it to your clit, rubbing circles until you are a blubbering mess under him. You feel like jelly.
The way you are tightening around him sets off Harry's orgasm. He groans out your name repeatedly as he comes inside of you. The feeling of him coating your walls is a thought you find yourself liking a bit too much for a regular person.
Nothing could've prepared you for this, for him. He takes the gun out of your mouth and puts it back on the nightstand. He keeps his body leaned over you, held up by his own two arms. His hair falls in front of his face, making it a bit more difficult to find your eyes. The both of you are panting heavily, and Harry smiles at your fucked out face.
Slipping a hand underneath your waist, Harry leans back and takes you with him, making you sit up straight. He unties your wrists, throwing the belt on the floor.
"Let's get you to the bathroom, hmm? Last part of the tour." He says, gently picking you up and carrying you over to his bathroom. When he puts you down, you have to hold yourself upright by holding on to the sink. Harry closes the door, giving you some privacy as you pee and check out your face in the bathroom. You wipe off the excess mascara that rests on your cheeks, smiling at the memory of what just happened.
When you get back to Harry's room, he has his boxers back on. At the sight of you, he grabs a t-shirt from the bed and hands it over to you. You put it on without question, only realizing that it is a Rolling Stones t-shirt when you catch yourself in the mirror.
"Got you some water." He points to the nightstand, and indeed, standing next to the gun there is a glass of water. You walk over to it and take a few sips, your eyes falling back on the gun.
"C'mere." Harry's voice interrupts your thoughts, and when you look up, you see that he has sat down. Crawling onto the bed, you join him.
He takes your chin in your hands, his face moving closer to you. "I want you to know that I'm not the safest guy to be around, and I understand if you want to walk away from this. But if you decide to stay, I promise I will keep you safe."
"So this is not going to be the last time that I'm gonna have to bail you out of jail?" You ask, partly joking, as you climb over him to sit on his lap.
"I'll be more careful." He responds, and his avoidance of your question gives you an answer. You nod, your face getting a bit more serious as you think about this a little bit more.
"Should I be scared?" You pout, not knowing if you would be able to handle constant fear. Harry shakes his head, a small smile on his face.
"Like you said, people are afraid of me, not necessarily the other way around." His fingertips dance around your thighs. "I'll keep it separated. And, unless for pleasure intended purposes, I won't ever use that gun around you."
You sigh. "Don't prove the people in this town right, okay? Don't be someone I have to run from."
Harry pulls you close, bringing your lips to his. It is a short and sweet kiss, one filled with the reassurance of a promise.
"I wouldn't dream of it."
taglist: @mellamolayla @natedelrey
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forzalando ¡ 2 months ago
Text
you were in my dream
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request: random playlist shuffle request from @maplesyrupsainz!! maddie - i already told you this but i wrote this because i love you hahaha and maybe i will add carlos back into the list of drivers i write for. tbd. we will see what the people think. i hope you like it, love you lots💛💛 song: you were in my dream by laur elle summary: you have a not-so-friendly dream about your best friend. enough said. pairing: carlos sainz x f!reader wc: 1.5k warnings: cursing, descriptions of steamy makeout, 17+
Carlos was, to put it mildly, very confused.
He had passed you a total of 17 times today while running around for media duties, (yes, he was counting) and each time you turned away from him as if he was a complete and total stranger.
You weren’t in a mood – he could see you chatting with Charles, briefly hugging Oscar, laughing with Lando and Max, all of which, admittedly, left a piercing pain in his chest and a disgusting jealous feeling swirling in his stomach.
After another hour without a word from you, Carlos made his way round to every person he’d seen you speak to that day – hoping that they might have some insight into what was going on.
Lando, of course, smiled as he saw his friend approaching, but soon noticed the frown on his face as he walked closer.
“Is she angry with me?” Carlos exhaled, not even a hello or how are you for his close friend.
“Is who angry with you?”
“Y/N! She has been ignoring me all day – I saw her with you, with Charles, with Oscar, with every person around. But me? It’s like I don’t exist.”
“She didn’t say anything specifically but now that you mention it, she did seem a bit flustered when I asked if she knew where you were.”
“Ay dios, what did I do? I walked her to her room last night after dinner and everything was perfectly fine!”
Meanwhile, you were hiding in the back of the Ferrari garage, a fairly secluded spot that you’d discovered earlier in the day. Successfully? Not at all – it only took Alexandra three minutes to find you sitting in a corner with a Ferrari jacket haphazardly thrown over your frame. She’d tried to coax you out, but only when Leo wiggled his way into your lap did you show any signs of life and break your silence to coo at the perfect little dog.
“There she is,” Alex smiled. “Now, tell me and Leo what you are doing hiding over here all by yourself?”
You groaned and handed Leo over to his Mama, using your now free hands to hide your heating face. “Oh god, I should’ve just stayed at the hotel. I thought I would be fine, this is so embarrassing.”
“Que s'est-il passé? You didn’t seem unwell at dinner last night, did you get sick in your room?”
Alex’s frantic mix of French and English and her worried expression made you feel even more guilty – this was dramatic, so beyond dramatic, but you were in a downward spiral and maybe she was just what you needed to yank yourself out of it.
“No, I…I had a dream,” you muttered. “It’s so stupid, but I don’t know what to do! How to act! I’m genuinely freaking the fuck out, Alex.”
“A nightmare? Are you afraid? Oh, Y/N, that’s not stupid but you’re safe here. Do you want me to go get Carlos? He’ll want to know what’s going on – ”
“NO,” you shouted too forcefully. “No, please don’t go get him, I can’t even look at him right now. You have one dream about your best friend and suddenly you can’t function.”
“You dreamt about Carlos? I don’t understand, what did you – ” Alex’s voice trailed off, a look of realization crossing her face.
“Oh, oh,” she smirked. “Y/N, you naughty girl!”
“It wasn’t even like that, we were just making out on his couch, ok heavily making out on his couch, and I can’t look at him without my stomach flipping or fearing I’m going to start drooling. He’s one of my closest friends, I’ve never thought about him like…that.”
“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes. “Never? Not once? In three years of friendship?”
“Maybe once or twice,” you mumbled guiltily. “God, what’s wrong with me? I can’t stop thinking about it – his arms, his mouth, everything, it felt so real.”
“Is now a good time to tell you that I think you have feelings for him and you’ve been pushing them down? Because you think he doesn’t feel the same? And this dream is just everything spilling over?”
Your mouth fell open and you scrambled for a retort – anything to say back to her to refute her claims, but all you could do was sigh and shake your head.
“I’m so pathetic,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.
“Mi sol, don’t say such things,” a familiar voice chimed from behind you. Before you could get to your feet to make an excuse and bolt, Carlos plopped down next to you. “Now, no more running away from me, ¿bueno?”
“I’ll find you later,” Alex called out sweetly as she hurried away, Leo’s ears flopping comically as he barked back at you.
The heat of Carlos’s body next to yours made your stomach turn, his arms so close to you, almost as close as they were when they were wrapped around your body, holding you tightly against his chest, heavy breathing in your ear and –
“Y/N? Are you listening?” He nudged his shoulder against yours lightly, ripping the mental image away from you.
“Yes, I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
“I want to know why you’ve been avoiding me. Why are you so angry with me?”
Your face fell instantly – guilt creeping in and taking over from the other feelings. “Oh, Carlos, I’m not angry with you. I had a dream and you were in it but it’s unimportant, I was being…ridiculous. I’m sorry, mi querido.”
Carlos brightened at the use of the term of endearment – not uncommon at all between the two of you and a sure sign that everything was fine.
“You don’t have to apologize. If I made you uncomfortable in your dream and you needed space, that is perfectly fine. I just wish I would have known before I panicked.”
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you never could.”
“Well, then what was I doing?”
You swore the garage grew ten degrees hotter – a bead of sweat forming on your neck where hickeys would have been if your dream had been as real as it felt. A heavy swallow and a deep exhale, you looked everywhere but at him, suddenly intensely interested in the spare tires to your right.
“Y/N,” he whispered, his breath hot on your neck, his hand cupping your chin to turn your head gently towards him. “Dime.”
All it took was one quick flicker of your eyes down to his lips for a smirk to spread across his face. Before you could even breathe, his nose was bumping against yours and the closeness of him made your head spin. 
He kissed you so softly, gently, his hand cupping your face and his thumb gently rubbing back and forth. So different from what you’d shared in the depths of your mind the night before but surpassing it exponentially in every conceivable way – dreams would never come close to this, never compare to the reality in front of you.
A shout from somewhere in the garage caused the two of you to jolt apart, the sudden realization of where you were sinking in quickly. 
“How did I compare?” He asked cheekily, rising to his feet and offering a hand to pull you up after him. 
Your head was still spinning - your chest heaving from a fairly innocent kiss, god, you were wrecked. Carlos, however, took your silence as the exact opposite - doubt crept into his mind, worried that he’d read everything wrong and let his own feelings guide his actions. 
His sweet, doe brown eyes searched yours for something, anything, to ease his panic. And then, you smiled - wide, bright, blinding, and lovesick. 
“You were perfect,” you finally answered, a sigh of relief leaving Carlos at the sound of your voice. “But, I would’ve preferred the dream setting. Comfortable couch, no prying eyes, no Ferrari polo, among other things.”
“Other things?” Carlos pressed, a wicked grin on his face.
“Yeah, you told me you loved me,” you whispered.
His lips morphed into a soft smile - gone was the playfulness and tension, replaced by tenderness, adoration, and something saccharine. You felt his fingers brushing against yours and reached out to let him grasp your hand in his, the warmth of his palm grounding you in this moment.
“I can do that,” he admitted bashfully. “But, not here. You deserve more than that. When I’m done we can go back to the hotel, grab dinner, and…talk.”
You smirked, mimicking his tone from before. “Talk?” 
“Among other things.”
The sound of your laughter followed Carlos as he walked towards his team, urging them respectfully to get him through the rest of his day as quickly as possible.
704 notes ¡ View notes
hello-kuni ¡ 4 months ago
Text
thinking of you
ft. sylus
c/w: suggestive, mention of masturbation, pinch of angst
a/n: had a little thought about him
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A ping from your phone broke your concentration. The screen lit up with a text notification from Sylus. It read: thinking of you. The attachment was what really interested you. Paperwork could wait for a moment. 
You drowned out the noise of your coworkers going about their jobs as you picked up your phone and opened the message, a small smile lighting your face. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Sylus to send you a random picture this early in the morning—the middle of the day for him, and late at night for you. 
Truthfully, it made overtime easier to get through. 
But the moment you opened the message you threw your phone facedown onto your desk. A few people looked your way and asked what happened. Their words flitted past you. You picked up your phone in a tight fist and headed to the restroom, the one place you could hope to find some privacy. 
You were going to kill him. 
Of all the things he could possibly send you, it had to be a picture of him jerking off. With his face clearly in the frame. 
Shameless.
And reckless.
Sylus was the one to put so much emphasis on keeping your relationship tightly underwraps, yet he goes and pulls a stunt like this when he knows you’re working. 
Your footsteps quickened as you neared the restroom. The moment you established it was empty you were already halfway done dialing his phone number. 
He answered on the first ring.
“Good, I was just about to call you.” His voice sounded strained. Huffs traveled from the other side of the line.
“Sylus,” you said, voice tight.
“Hmm. You sound mad. I like that. Keep talking.”
You warred between not giving him what he wanted and chewing him out for pulling such a shameless stunt. Your relationship was supposed to be kept hidden, but if anyone saw that—it’d be hard to come up with a believable excuse. 
Ultimately, your anger won. 
You tore into him, one word after another. You couldn’t quite understand why you so angry you were lashing out like this, but the words wouldn’t stop flowing out. 
Perhaps it was the fear of losing him that spurred you on. The fear of having to let him go. 
Sylus didn’t interrupt you, but you could make out the occasional “hmm” here and there. 
When you finally stopped, the line the line was thrown into silence. A few heartbeats later you heard a low groan on the other end. Your eye twitched when you heard it. 
There were no words left in you so you bit your tongue instead.
“It’s not enough. I’m not satisfied these days unless it’s the real thing. Do you feel the same? You should call me the next time you do, you know I’ll always come.”
“Sylus, you—”
“Sorry, sweetie, I’ve got another call. I’ll see you later. Don’t be late.”
“Bastard,” you said after he hung up.
Damn. You really wanted to finish that paperwork get home. More than ever before.
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spiderwcd ¡ 11 months ago
Text
sleep tight | c.b.
pairing: colby brock x reader
summary: they suggested to sleep over at the haunted manor, expect this time something dangerous happens.
warnings: sleep walking, the boys being almost hurt, guilt, possession, mentions of ghosts/demons, mentions of death/gore
w.c: 4.2k
a/n: the manor that they will stay in will be made up, so none of the "hauntings" are real and dont exist.
images from pinterest !
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Y/n tapped her foot, anxious. she bit her nails as they approached the large mansion, it seemed to have a dark aura already. 
"You good?" Colby asked, worried. she pulled away from her anxiety ridden movements, facing him now to see his worried expression.
"Yeah, just nervous," she chuckled dryly. "This place has a dark past." She added. 
Colby nodded, understanding. This was only her second time joining them in their explorations of the paranormal. Last time, it was a bit hard on her. Colby offered to let her stay in their hotel while they went through it without her, but she insisted. 
She shifted her gaze from Colby's sympathetic look over to the dark manor. It was a huge mansion, painted bright colors that were peeling off. It was a stark contrast to the aura that lingered. 
"Alright guys, you ready?" Sam smiled over to the two, misreading the vibe. 
"Yeah." Y/n let out a deep breath as she exited the car, eyes still on the manor. She helped the boys take out their equipment as they tweaked with the settings on the camera. 
"Hello everybody!" Sam exclaimed into the camera, Colby standing next to him. "I'm here with Colby and his girlfriend, y/n." He pointed the camera towards her direction, carrying certain items as she waved towards them, putting a smile on her face. 
"Today, we're gonna explore the Demon's Dream Manor," Colby explained into the camera, in an expressive tone. "It is said that both ghosts and demons lurk here and possess you in your sleep." He added. 
Y/n gulped hearing it out loud, she had read about it but something about it being physically said made her hair stand up and her mouth go dry. 
She walked towards the boys as they finished their intro, still holding onto some equipment. she cautiously entered the mansion, trailing behind the two boys. 
As they entered the foyer, she noticed the dark decor. it was sorta cheesy in her opinion, with the antique mirrors and candlesticks everywhere. 
"Okay, apparently it's a tourist spot," Sam began, obviously. "But we're gonna be the first people to actually stay the night, it's like forbidden for anyone to stay here after hours, even the staff," He added. 
Oh great, someones definitely gonna get thrown around here, she thought to herself. 
"How did you even convince them to let us do this?" She asked as she placed down the random supplies onto the old dining table. 
"Oh, isn't it obvious, they just took one look at me and they had to have me stay here." Sam joked as he threw back his imaginary hair. 
She giggled a bit at his response, not even wanting to know. Her eyes wandered around the tall ceilings, wondering what lies ahead of them. 
"There's this story about this place, that there was a family of 7 that lived here, 3 girls and 2 boys," Colby explained into the camera. "the girls had a sleepover, in which they essentially opened a portal with an ouija board." He clasped his hands together as the information settled. 
"if Corey was here, he'd shit himself." Y/n joked, causing the guys to chuckle. 
"Yeah so demons!" Sam chuckled, fake nervousness coated over it. "But that's not all." He quickly stated. 
"Oh yeah, there's a ghost here," Colby interrupted. "After the portal was opened, one of the girls unfortunately passed away. She was thrown or pushed out of one of the windows causing her to die." He sadly continued. 
"That poor baby," Y/n frowned, feeling remorse for the girl. The boys nodded, feeling the same empathy towards the death of the girl. 
"Alright, our tour guide is here, her name is Penny, and she's gonna explain some of the stories and what happened in this house." Colby said as he looked over to the black haired woman. 
"Well this place certainly has its history," Penny began. "Uh, well this house was built in the 1920's, it's been passed down the Merridale family for generations up until the 70's where the unfortunate events happened." She explained. 
"Was it the family that experienced the torment of certain entities?" Sam asked, pointing the camera towards her. 
"Yes, there were 5 children in total, Edith being the oldest, then Florence, Howard, Clarence, and lastly Dorthy." Penny explained. "The parents were Authur and Beatrice Merridale." She added on. 
"Who was the girl that passed away?" Y/n asked, curious. 
"It was the youngest daughter, Dorthy," Penny answered. "It was really sad considering she was the one that was mostly scared and didn't even want to participate in the ouija board." 
Y/n felt a pang of sadness hit her, feeling so sorry for the little girl. 
"That's awful," Y/n gasped, her face furrowing with sadness. Colby placed a hand onto her back, trying to comfort her a bit. 
"Yeah, it's unfortunate but I'm also a medium, and I have communicated with her before, she's a kind spirit and she's known to ward off the evil around people. Especially women." She continued, adding comfort to the situation. 
Y/n smiled, feeling comfort at the idea that this place isn't totally overrun by evil and there's some sort of light. 
"I really hope she's gonna be protecting us tonight," Colby sighed, feeling some sort of uneasy feeling linger. 
"Usually she'll just follow us and protect us, you can just tell her it's okay to follow you and watch, she doesn't do any harm," Penny offered. "I can just feel her already, she really likes you y/n." She pointed out.
Y/n's eyes widened a bit, looking around herself. "It's okay to follow us around the house Dorothy, we won't hurt you." y/n said into the open, hoping she'd hear her. 
The boys did the same, before they began touring the house. They heard the occasional taps and knocks as they explored the house. They soon entered what seemed like the girls room. 
"This is where the most activity happens,'' Penny presented. "This was the girls room, and this was the window where Dorothy was pushed out of." She pointed out towards the large nook like area that overlooked the road. 
"Wow, that's really high up," Colby gasped slightly as he looked down from the window. "I can't imagine how much pain she felt." He sighed out. 
"She died on impact," Penny elaborated. "So the good part was she didn't suffer." She included. 
"I'm so sorry, Dorothy, that this happened to you." Y/n whispered as she looked around the room, examining the surroundings. Then she felt a sort of tap on her shoulder, she turned around to face the boys. 
"You guys didn't touch me, did you?" she asked 
"No, why did you feel someone touch you?" sam asked
"Y-Yeah it was like a tap on my shoulder to get me to turn around." she described. 
"Someone's gonna have to stay here and sleep in this room..." Sam said before promptly touching his nose. Colby quickly reacted and mirrored his actions, leaving you to be last. 
The boys silently exclaimed as you groaned. "Of course it has to be me." She sighed. 
"Well it is a girl's room so you'll fit right in." Sam chuckled, before following Penny as they exited the bedroom. 
Colby lingered behind along with y/n. "You know you don't have to do it, I can take your place in here or even sleep with you in the room." He offered. 
"No it's okay, plus we both know that's not a good idea." Y/n joked as she knew how touchy he was. 
"Not where my mind was going, but now I really want to sleep in the same room with you." Colby smirked a bit, holding onto her hand as they explored the rest of the house. 
"This is the master bedroom, where the parents slept,'' Penny pointed out into the large bedroom, if it wasn't for the dark history this home would've been pretty gorgeous. "At some point, all of the family slept in this bedroom, they were scared of what lived in this home. I don't know if you guys mentioned it before, but there was an incident in this room as well." She continued. 
"Possession and sleep walking?" Sam asked, furrowing his brow. 
"Yes, but there was a part of the story that most people leave out," Penny pointed out. "When the family was all asleep in this room, one of the girls kept having nightmares and one night she began sleep walking, mumbling random words. She actually grabbed one of the kitchen knives and tried attacking her family." He added. 
Everyone gasped a bit, shocked about how this wasn't told before. 
"Wait, was everyone okay?" Colby asked, worry written on his face. 
"Yes, but she did manage to stab her mother in her right shoulder, but luckily, everyone woke up to her mother screaming and pulled her out of that trance." Penny answered, clasping her hands together. 
If everyone didn't feel scared before, they surely did now. The air was tense and felt suffocating, full of uneasiness. y/n scooted towards Colby, now holding his hand for security. Colby tightened his grip on her hand, a sign for protection. They suddenly heard footsteps behind them, causing her to jump closer to Colby's body. He turned around, his body shielding y/n. 
"You hear that?" Colby asked, looking around before looking over to sam. "Sounded like footsteps. 
"Yeah I heard that too," Sam replied as he also looked around, pointing his camera towards the darkness. 
"Usually it's just entities following us around," Penny warned. "If you are not Dorothy, you may not follow us or attach to any of us, you don't have our permission to touch us, follow us, or attach to us." She shouted behind us. 
Everyone stayed quiet before they continued the tour. Before we knew it, Penny had to go, leaving us alone in the large manor. The group sat in the dining area, considering what to do. 
"Did you bring any toys?" Y/n asked. "Maybe we can leave one for dorothy." She offered. 
Colby smiled at her sweetness, finding her kindness refreshing in the mansion. "Yeah, I think we bought a doll for her." Colby said as he dug into his bag, picking out a little doll. "That is, if you're not talking about other toys?" he smirked, jokingly wiggling his brows 
"Shut up," she blushed at his dirty comment. "But thank you, hopefully she'll love it." She smiled, examining the toy doll. 
"Are you still going to sleep in that room?" Sam asked as he pointed the camera towards her. 
"Yeah, I'm not backing down, plus I have Dorothy for protection," y/n replied with a sigh, she was terrified but she knew that colby would be a couple doors down in the master bedroom. "Plus Colby will fight the spirits for me, isn't that right?" She inquired. 
"Oh yeah, I'll use my big strong muscles to ward them off you," Colby joked as he flexed his muscles. "But I'll probably be thrown out the window if I even try, so I can't help out there." He chuckled. 
She gave Colby a kiss on his lips, while Sam pretended to gag towards the camera. 
"Alright, enough you too, you're gonna make me and Dorothy sick," Sam teased. "Anyway, what are we gonna start with first?" he asked. 
"I think we should do the alice box," Colby offered. "We could do the estes method after." he continued. 
Sam nodded, "alright lets start up the alice box." he began as he dug through the bag, grabbing the small box. it turned on with a loud crackle, before different frequencies blasted through. 
"Is there anyone here willing to speak to us here?" Sam asked, waiting for a response. 
"...here..."
"Here, can you tell us who we were speaking to?" Colby inquired, it was silent for a moment before it spoke again.
"...not..." "...man..." 
Shivers ran down her spine hearing the words. 
"Can you tell us your name?" Y/n requested, but it didn't say anything.
"If it's not human, it doesn't want to give us its name," y/n sighed. "Their names are what gives you power over them." She continued. The guys nodded a bit, agreeing with her statement. 
"Is it true that there is a portal in this house?" Colby questioned. 
"...yeah..."
"Is there a spirit with the name of Dorothy in this home too?" Y/n inquired as she leaned closer in her seat, awaiting the answer. 
"...lost..." It gurgled over other words, too. Y/n furrowed her brow confused. 
"Lost? I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean." Sam wondered, thinking about the words while the alice box spewed more confusing words. 
"Did you possess one of the daughters here to kill her family?" Colby asked into the air. 
"...shhh..." "...sleep..." "...scream..." 
They looked at each other, mouths open with shock. 
"I mean Penny did say that she was possessed in her sleep," y/n let out, sort of covering her mouth in shock. "And the family woke up to their mom screaming." She clarified. They agreed with her statement before returning back to the alice box. 
"What do you think about us being here? We're the first people in decades to sleep in this home." Sam expressed. 
"...play..." "...touch..." "...mmmh..." "...her..." 
It ran shivers down her spine and traveled all around her body. "What the hell." She muttered out, gripping onto Colby's arms. 
"No, you can not touch her, she's not yours," Colby angrily growled, holding her close to him. "You're not allowed to touch any of us, especially her." 
She felt herself wanting to shake a bit hearing those words, while the alice box spewed out more words. Sam quickly turned it off, and put it away. 
"What the actual fuck dude." Sam faced Colby with a shocked expression planted on his face. 
"Yeah, clearly something here feeds off women's energy." Colby replied, trying to comfort y/n. 
"Are you okay, y/n?" Sam asked, camera still rolling. 
"Y-Yeah, im fine just a bit shocked," she answered as she released her grip. "Let's just do the Estes method, let me do it." She added.
"No way," Colby scoffed. "You're being targeted, y/n." Colby explained.
She looked up into his eyes, seeing worry in his stern look. "Colby, it's okay, I can do it." She assured him. "You'll be right next to me, pulling me out if anything." 
Colby's eyes softened a bit, knowing there's no way he's gonna convince her not to do it. "Okay, but if it goes south even for a moment, I'll pull you out." He sighed. 
She smiled, squeezing his hand to assure him. she grabbed the headphones and blindfold, putting them on. Sam turned on the machine and the familiar static blared through. 
Y/n couldn't hear them as they began asking questions. 
"How did you get here?" Sam asked, waiting for an answer from y/n. 
“Board." She repeated. "Invited us." 
"Like the ouija board." Colby looked up at Sam. Sam nodded, agreeing.
"Can you tell me how many of you are here?" Colby questioned. 
"You." She said, "Ten." She continued. 
"Not alone." 
"Well, that's comforting." Sam scoffed, jokingly.
"Howard." She shouted out. Colby looked over to Sam, both thinking the same thing.
"That's one of the sons' names." Colby finally said. 
"Pretty." Y/n answered. "Scared." She finally said. 
"Like one of us is scared or something," Sam pondered. 
"Night." Y/n continued. "Party." 
The two wondered what that meant, "like a sleepover." Colby finally figured it out, snapping his fingers and pointing up to sam. 
"Oh my god, you're right!,'' Sam gasped. "The slumber party that the girls were having." 
"Terror. Dorothy." She repeated. Y/n felt herself begin to shake as an uneasy feeling crawled on her back. "Scream." She continued 
"What the hell?" Sam whispered, unsure what's happening. 
The two guys suddenly heard a loud thud upstairs. they looked up, confused where it could come from. "sounded like it was in one of the bedrooms." Sam admitted. 
"Laugh, I just heard a, like, loud guttural laugh." Y/n pointed to her headphones. "Precious. Soul." 
"Okay I think we need to pull her out," Colby quickly continued, tapping on y/n's thigh to snap her out. "Y/n, come on." 
She tore off the headphones at the last second as she heard some sort of loud scream, "woah, just as you were pulling me out, I heard this loud ass scream." Y/n pulled the blindfold off her eyes, visibly shaken. 
"It's okay, it's over now." Colby comforted her as he pulled her up, embracing her into his arms. 
˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
Things had finally settled, they went out to go get something to eat. They talked about theories, noting things and connecting points, and how they felt being in the house. 
When they returned, they noticed the house became colder. They slightly shivered at the cool air nipping at their skin.
"Here." Colby said as he handed her a hoodie. She smiled up at Colby, thanking him for it. 
"Aren't you gonna be cold, baby?" She asked, worried about him. 
"I'll be okay, I'll just borrow one from sam." Colby smiled at her concern. "Or i'll just tear it off his body." He joked, causing Sam to spin around and mutter what. 
They laughed at his reaction, feeling the mood lighten up slightly. she put on the hoodie, inhaling his scent that was mixed with cologne. it comforted her, making her feel comfortable. 
"Alright guys, it's time to go to our respected rooms,'' Sam said as they began to part ways. "To sleep overnight at the demon's dream manor." He turned the camera to face Sam and Colby, with an ominous stare. 
"Can't believe you two are gonna be in the same room," Y/n sighed. "Hands off my boyfriend, Golbach." She continued with a stern look, jokily. 
"Hey, I can't promise anything, sugar," Colby replied teasingly, stepping closer to sam. "What if I get cold?" He pouted his lip and pretended to shiver as he huddled towards Sam. 
Sam and y/n laughed at his reaction, they joked for a moment more before they actually had to go to sleep. She turned on her camera, ready to give a moment of her thoughts. 
"To be honest, I'm really scared," she admitted into the lens. "I have this really bad feeling that something is gonna happen, but I'm sure that Dorothy, wherever she is, is gonna protect us." She sighed out. 
"I wonder what the guys are doing," y/n wondered. "probably rubbing their feet together and cuddling." She chuckled. She stayed silent for a moment as she heard random footsteps outside her door. 
"I just heard footsteps, I hope the camera caught that, or even the guys heard that." Y/n looked over the camera and at the door, not seeing anything. 
It was silent besides a few crickets outside and the humming of a radiator, which was odd because it was freezing. "Well guys, wish me luck, i'm gonna put out this little doll Colby gave me and rest my lil head and pray that nothing happens." She finally said before placing the doll on a wooden chair and positioning the camera to face her and her surroundings. 
As the night progressed, slowly getting closer to the 3 o'clock hour. Y/n couldn't help but feel restless. Her body was sleeping, but her mind wasn't. She felt stuck in some sort of loop, a nightmare. 
She found herself in a thick fog, on what seemed to be a dirt road. She frantically looked around as she heard a faint whisper, what seemed to be coming from all different directions. 
She began to run, but the whispers didn't seem to go away. She tried to cover her ears as she sprinted through the mist. Then she saw a building approaching, she felt as if it was a beacon for hope. 
as she neared towards it, her heart began to sink. It was the mansion. But this time, it was much darker than she remembered. The manor seemed to have a shadow casted around it, she began to panic as she felt a hard pressure on her chest. 
Then she saw a dark shadow, a figure raced past from the woods behind the house. She felt worry and fear begin to settle in her chest, she didn't want to go towards it. But her body seemed to be pulled as she slowly made her way behind the house. She braced herself for what was to come, but nothing. 
She felt some sort of relief wash over her before she spun around, seeing it. It was dark and tall, it had piercing white eyes with red pupils. It towered over her as it grinned down at her, with its black and scrawny, long fingers began to grip her hands. It pulled her close to its body. She screamed as she began to sob, trying to fight back and call out for colby. 
"Y/n!" Colby shouted out, "wake up!" He shook her awake. 
She opened her eyes to her surroundings, looking around frantically as tears stained her face. Y/n began shaking and trying to figure out what happened. Then she noticed Colby's cut hand and the knife sitting across the room. 
"W-what happened?!" She panted as she didn't want to think of the worst. Sam was behind Colby, looking at her with fear plastered in his eyes. 
"Y-you just came in here," Colby began. "You opened the door, thank god Sam was still awake, he thought you didn't want to sleep in the room anymore and went to sleep with me. But..." He stopped himself, contemplating whether to say it.
"What did I do?" Y/n whimpered, feeling guilt build up. 
"Sam saw you have a knife, we don't even know where you got it from, cause they removed all the knives from the house." Colby continued. "He pushed you off of me as you were about to... stab me." He finally admitted. 
She began to sob into her hands, "D-Did I do that? Did I h-hurt you" she asked him, her voice shaking. 
"Y-Yeah, you got back up, and I was awake by then. I thought I could get you to wake up and unarm you,"Colby sighed. "you just started slinging that thing around, and I put my hand up and you cut me a bit, but I’m okay, y/n I swear. It's just a cut.” He reasoned 
"Oh god, Colby, I'm so sorry," she cried out as Colby pulled her in. "I'm so sorry, I-i didn't mean to hurt y-you." Y/n muttered into his shirt. 
He tried to comfort her the best he could, she cried for what felt like hours. Colby looked up to Sam, who still had a worried expression on his face. 
"Okay, we have to get out of here," Sam suddenly broke the air. "Y/n, just stay in the car and we'll pack everything." He continued, still afraid of her. 
She didn't say anything as Colby guided her out of the house. He opened the car and she sat in it, looking up at the mansion again. She felt a shiver run down her spine, causing her hair on her body to stand up. 
As the guys packed up everything, Sam couldn't help himself and just asked. "Do you think that thing is attached to her now?'' He gulped a bit. 
"I hope not," Colby answered with sadness in his voice. "Whatever happened, fucked her up, we'll have to sage before we leave." he continued as he grabbed the bag. Sam nodded, agreeing with him. 
"Don't take this the wrong way man," Sam began. "But, do you think we can even release the footage? I got it all on camera." He admitted. 
"Hell no," Colby frowned. "I don't want the world thinking she's a monster, she didn't mean to do it, that fucking thing possessed her and controlled her." he spat angrily. 
Sam nodded, agreeing with him. "Yeah, just gonna have to tell the fans that we lost the footage or something." He sighed as he put away the last of the equipment. 
as they exited the house, they said their usual thing. "You cannot follow any of us, including y/n. you cannot follow us home." They announced behind them, before they closed the door. 
They began walking down to the car, seeing the sun begin to rise. Y/n just stared ahead, no emotion on her face. Her mind was racing from thought to thought. She didn't even flinch when they entered the car, Sam looked over to her then back to Colby. He had a worried expression written on his face. 
As they were pulling away from the property, she couldn't help but look back. She saw a dark figure move out of the view in the window, making her freeze for a moment before returning to the emotionless stare. 
As they drove, silence hung in the air. They didn't play music, joke around, or talk about anything like they usually did. Just silence. She didn't want to talk about it, still traumatized from her experience. Y/n couldn't shake that cold feeling on her back, images of her nightmare flashing in her mind. 
Something was left with her, but it wasn't an attachment. But it was rather the guilt and trauma she would carry with her for a lifetime. 
2K notes ¡ View notes
nvuy ¡ 5 months ago
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hey gorjous im just curious will you ever write for aventurine?by the way loveeee your works
rose-tinted glasses & the scent of you — aventurine
summary. you’re offered a chance to win close to a million credits. only issue is, you suck at poker. luckily, some blond man with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen comes to your aid.
notes. who is aventurine and no i will never write for him. it is 3:30am and i am now going to sleep goodnight!!!!
warnings. the dude your playing poker with is an asshole and says some strange things, i guess a bit of power imbalance, gn reader but referred to as ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous,’ light cussing, i don’t know how to play poker and i fight the gods trying to write aventurine.
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“So… tell me… what made you think you could win?” 
The older man stares you down with those awful brown eyes. They flicker even darker than black itself in the low lights of the VIP room he’s dragged you into. 
You glance up from your deck of cards. Your fingers are trembling. You swallow and tell the man, “I never even agreed to play this game with you.” 
The man leans back in his chair. He merely rolls his eyes. The woman over his shoulder—and she’s a gorgeous woman. She looks much too young for him—giggles at his antics. She looks more like a prize than anything. 
Your eyes snap to the man’s again. “And I don’t want to be your arm candy.” 
“Oh, but that’s what you were made for.” The man yawns as if he could be doing anything else with his time. And he could have; he was rich. Filthy rich. He paid for women, cars, and every high end restaurant in this district that was under his name one way or another. All his. He could have been off on his yacht somewhere in the ocean for all you cared, sipping a nice martini. 
But, no. 
He’s here. And he wants you. 
Some lowly office worker. You knew the gut feeling when you stepped into this casino, and you had ignored it. Now, you were kicking yourself repeatedly for it.
“Play.”
You almost consider throwing your cards down onto the table and storming out, but the room is closed off by two big burly men standing on either side of it.
And if you give up, he wins.
But he’s already winning, anyway. 
“Play the game,” he repeats, this time firmer. 
“I’m folding,” you said with just as much vitriol. You drop your cards onto the green velvet and swallow your pride. 
The man hums with triumph, drops his deck—of course, a royal flush glimmers back at you on his pristine customised playing cards—and collects the chips in the middle of the table. 
“That’s another round for me,” the man whispers across the table. “Another drink?” 
You shake your head. The thought of him making you down even more liquor with him made you feel sick. “Can I leave?” 
“‘Leave?’ It’s only round four.” The dealer takes the cards silently. Another woman. Her name badge reads ‘Jewel,’ though you’re sure that’s not her real name. “You said it was best of five.” 
You look down at your hands.
They’re still trembling. 
“This isn’t fair.” You try not to tear up, but your voice shakes, and it’s difficult to mask. Your hands continue to quake and your legs can’t remain still. You were sure he could feel the floor vibrating with how you bounced in your seat. “I can’t even play with these cards–” 
“I hope you’re not suggesting I’m taking advantage of you, beautiful.” 
Your face screws up at that. 
He’s not cheating. How can he possibly cheat? You had elected the dealer yourself, per his request, and had been watching him like a hawk for the better half of an hour. 
Your hands were awful every time. Not even a simple pair. Just random useless low valued cards thrown together, while the man opposite you seemed to have an endless amount of tricks up his sleeve. 
Poker was luck based. Mostly. There was skill and strategy, but it was like detective work. You’re no professional, but the dealer has no idea what they draw for each player, and the chances of you being drawn a horrible hand twice in a row now was creeping up on you.
It’s all guesswork and mind games. Being a sleaze is this dude’s lifestyle. You work in an office answering phone calls all day.
You glance at the dealer again. She’s still shuffling the cards by hand, and she’s not looking at them either. There’s no possible way she could know what she is handing out. 
You sigh shakily. “No.” 
The man leans back in his chair. 
Then, he glances up when the door opens behind you. The woman over his arm gets up and leaves. 
At first you presume the man has called in another woman by the way his eyes light up.
His grin is wicked. “Mister Aventurine, you son of a bitch.”
He gestures to you and says, “you’re in luck. Maybe this’ll be your turn around. You’re going to need it.” The man leans back in his chair, suddenly smug.
You feel a hand brush along the back of your shoulder.
There’s a strong scent of clove oil and chestnut as the newcomer, Mister Aventurine, glides past your chair and over to the man’s shoulder. 
You notice flicks of water on his coat.
“Evening, Keres.” His voice is just as smooth. “It’s raining hard out there.” 
“Is it? I ain’t been out since this mornin’.”
When you take a proper look at him, he’s wearing clothing more expensive than all of your bills combined. That was real fur around his collar; you could tell from the organic coarseness of it, and the way the pattern was inconsistent and natural. The watch around his wrist was most definitely real gold with an emerald green face. 
And hair is perfect, laid down flat, but with pieces fluffed out intentionally. Everything is done with purpose. He carries an air of confidence to him, and it only falters for a moment when he adjusts the black gloves on his hands. 
He’s wearing rose-coloured glasses.
“Harassing the locals again?” Mister Aventurine asks playfully. 
He’s talking about you.
You bristle in your seat.
“Hardly.” The man, whom you now know as Keres, leans over the table with an arm on the velvet. “This one’s gotten a little too excited at the prize money.” 
“And how much is that?” Mister Aventurine finishes fixing his gloves before he stands up straight. 
“A good seven-hundred and fifty thousand. Enough to pay the bills for the year and get yourself something nice, right sweetheart?” He raises a silver credit card he pulls from his pocket and waves it side to side. “All right here on this shiny, pretty card.”
You feel like a fish staring down a hook with worm bait stuck to the end.
He’s speaking to you again, but the question  remains unanswered. Keres raises an eyebrow—and you would have considered him handsome if didn’t make you feel nauseous every time he spoke to you—and waits.
You say nothing. 
Mister Aventurine is looking at you now.
You feel as though you’re being hypnotised. Though the colour of his eyes are left muffled by the rosy tint he wears over them, they’re so bright. There’s two colours you can barely decipher: some sort of light green and a deep purple.
And they’re beautiful. 
“I take it you’re winning?” 
Keres picks up his deck of cards for the dealer as she lays them out on the table.
You swallow as she deals out your hand next. You don’t even want to flip the cards. You already know it’s over.
By some miracle, you have to win this round.
Keres had gone easy on you the first round, calling your bluff and being wrong, since you told him you weren’t sure how to play, and he felt only the slightest bit bad he roped you into the game in the first place.
Now, he didn’t care. 
“‘Course I’m winnin’.” 
Your teeth grit behind your lips.
Dickhead.
You swallow and peek at your cards. 
Huh. They’re actually not so bad this time around. Your hands had been awful for the last hour. 
Mister Aventurine is still looking at you.
You try not to return his gaze. You keep your eyes glued to the table. 
Mister Aventurine hums curiously.
You can still smell his perfume, and the delicious bottom note of vanilla musk, even as he stands on the other side of the playing table. If you weren’t in the position you were in, you would have asked him what he was wearing. 
He clears his throat. 
You glance up at him.
Then, he nods subtly at you, seemingly pleased. “Great hand, Keres, don’t you think?” 
“The secret to winning is to remain humble, Mister Aventurine,” Keres reminds him. 
You almost scoff. 
Mister Aventurine’s lips tick up into a grin. “Is that so?” 
Then, he tilts his head slightly towards you. It’s not enough to look awkward or out of place, but it’s just enough for you to notice the very small, and nervous tick of one of his gloved fingers by his sides. 
He’s still staring at you. 
And there, slightly warped from his curved lenses, is a rosy and mirrored reflection of the man’s cards. 
For a moment, you look away, glancing at the security guards situated behind you standing in front of the door. Though you still could never make a run for it because both of them were triple your size, one of them was tapping away on his phone, and the other was leaning against the wall and staring off into space. 
You turn back around. 
Mister Aventurine merely raises a brow. 
Keres notices that. “Taking an interest in my opponent, Aventurine?”
Aventurine does not move to address the man, too afraid he won’t garner the correct angle on his glasses again, but his eyes do flit in his direction. “Maybe.”
“Don’t use that charm just yet, sir. I’ve got a game to win.” 
“Of course.” It’s a mere send off of his tone, as if he’s just carelessly thrown the words in to keep the man satisfied. 
He’s doing this on purpose. 
You glance down at your cards again. 
Keres’ hand is good. It’s not amazing, but it’s good. It’s almost an even match, though the game is tilted slightly in his favour. 
But, he doesn’t know your cards. 
Neither does Aventurine. You think. Unless those freaky eyes grant him a sixth sense, and he can see through the card backs like an x-ray. That wouldn’t surprise you in the slightest. 
You exhale as steadily as you can, trying to slow your racing heart. 
Then, you whisper, “if this is the final round, I’m going all in.” 
Aventurine’s face does not shift. His lenses flicker in the lights, and for a moment you panic, convinced that the reflection is lost.
It returns a moment later. 
Keres grins. “As you wish.” He slides all of his own chips into the centre of the table. 
ೃ༄
You’ve confused Keres, that’s for sure. The round has been lasting a lot longer than he liked, and as he grew more and more impatient, he grew sloppier. 
You’re not any good at this game. You’re not a genius strategist, that was for sure, but judging by the slight flinch in Aventurine’s face when Keres slammed his hands on the table, you could tell he was being run around the very table he sat at. 
He’d first accused you of cheating halfway through the round, so much so that the security guards were ordered to pat you down for extra cards, and the dealer was escorted out of the room. 
Then, Aventurine had rested a gloved hand to the man’s shoulder and reminded him, “calmness is the cradle of power, my friend.” 
That barely calmed him down, but it was enough to seat the man again. 
Now, Aventurine was not showing you his hand anymore, but you didn’t need it. 
“I’m raising,” Keres whispers. 
Aventurine’s eyes narrow suspiciously at his deck. 
You swallow. 
“Then I’m calling your bluff,” you mumble. You won’t fold. Not here. Not when you know you’ve won. 
Your heart is racing.
There’s a small voice in the back of your head telling you that you may have overstepped. You may have grown too big in your own head. 
Aventurine is staring at you, completely expressionless. He’s casually leaning against the back of Keres’ chair. 
Come on. Come on, come on–
You grip your cards for dear life.  
Keres drops his cards. “Fuck you.” 
You sigh in relief and drop your own cards.
You bury your face in your hands and lean against the table on your elbows. You could cry. Oh, you could get on the floor and weep to the Aeons. You could give Aventurine a giant kiss on the lips. 
Oh, thank the Aeons for blond men. 
You didn’t have to worry about waking up in this man’s bed tomorrow morning. 
Keres gets up, and as he does, Aventurine adjusts his posture and clears his throat. He says nothing when Keres passes him. 
There’s a nasty whisper of a, “some lucky charm you are,” before the credit card is thrown into his chest. 
Keres hits you in the shoulder on his way out. The security guards allow him through first before they both file out. They close the door to the VIP room behind them. 
You contemplate leaving as well. You just desperately want to go home. It’s getting late, you think. You had caught a glance of Aventurine’s watch before, and the large hand was ticking towards nine o’clock. 
“Congratulations.” It’s warm. It’s genuine. When you turn, Aventurine is holding out the credit card in front of him. “Don’t forget the ‘shiny, pretty card.’” 
Your chest warms, and you feel this is the first time you’ve smiled properly in a long time. 
You move closer to the man. “You…” You hesitate before the credit card, but Aventurine makes no move to pocket it for himself and leave. “I- I don’t know how I can thank you enough for this.” 
You take the card and stare at it for a moment. 
Then, you place it safely in your coat pocket. 
Aventurine tilts his head, confusion scrawled onto his face as saunters past you easily to hold open the door for you. “Thank me for what?”
As he waits, he pulls off those rosy glasses and folds them neatly. He holds onto them.
Oh. 
His eyes are beautiful. A light blue ring surrounds his slightly slitted pupils. A gorgeous rich royal purple wraps at the edges of his iris, bordered by a thick black ring. 
You stop for a moment before you step towards the door, looking equally as confused. “The reflection? With your glasses?” 
Aventurine looks down at the said pair in his hands. He then smiles, but it seems more to be polite and to entertain you. “Sure.” He shuts the door behind you when he follows you out. 
You knit your brows together. 
Then, it wasn’t intentional.
Or, he’s just really good at playing dumb.
You can’t exactly tell.
His grin spells mischief, however. “Would you like a drink?” 
Your eyes flit towards the bar. It’s always fully stocked, and the bartenders are always lovely, but the idea of liquor in your already churning stomach makes you feel sick. “Oh, no. But thank you. I’m probably just going to go home.” 
“Of course. It’s late.” Aventurine glances down at his watch. “I’d be more than happy to walk you to your car, if you’d like.” 
You blink at him, only slightly dazed. 
You felt as if you had just swallowed three shots of straight vodka. 
Your legs feel unsteady for a moment, and you’re afraid you’ll teeter and fall flat on your face. You can smell his perfume again. It’s stronger now since he’s standing so close to you.
It’s almost humiliating how easily he sends blood rushing up your neck. 
“I don’t- uh… I don’t have a car,” you murmur. 
Aventurine blinks and takes out his phone. “Then I’ll call you a cab.” 
“Thanks.” You clear your throat when his lips stretch into a smile again. Embarrassingly, you add, “you smell so nice.” 
He laughs then, and you like the sound. He narrows his eyes playfully. “Thank you.” 
As if it couldn’t get any worse, blondie then offers you his arm. You could’ve melted on the spot into a puddle of goo all over the plush red carpets of the casino. 
The sound of slot machines, loud chattering, and drinks clacking together in toasts, drowns out the sound of your stuttered breathing and the roar of blood in your ears. 
Aventurine greets one of the staff members on his way out. His arm linked with yours is gentle, more of a persistent comforting anchor than a leash to drag you around in.
He smells really, really nice. 
Your face grows hot.
This is so bad. 
It’s raining outside. The entrance to the casino is large enough to provide enough relief to city goers seeking shelter from the rain. The press of the heating from inside dissipate as soon as you step through the doors.
It’s freezing. The wind whips and sounds as though one thousand ghosts float through the air, lost to time. 
You’re relieved the exterior roof keeps you mostly dry. 
You shiver. 
“They’ll be a cab for you in five minutes,” Aventurine says softly. He lets go of your arm. You ignore the disappointment you feel in your chest. 
“Thanks.” You cross your arms over your chest to shield yourself from the cold as best you could. “You don’t have to wait out here with me.” 
Aventurine looks at you strangely. “Well, it’s not like I’m doing much else.” He gives you a once over before you hear his clothes shifting. 
This is so awkward. 
You feel the foreign tickle of expensive and real fur on your neck. 
You glance at him suspiciously before your shoulders are swamped in his jacket. It’s warm, warmer than anything you’ve ever worn from the velvety insides and his own body heat, and heavy with luxury. 
Your heart stops when Aventurine hums, pleased. 
Your hands shoot to the white fur on the collar to shuck it off and hand it back to him. “I’m fine, really–” 
“Oh, please.” He waves you off gently. “You’re clearly freezing.” 
“I’m really okay–” 
“And would you look at that.” Aventurine straightens up and pushes his rosy glasses back onto his nose bridge. “Your cab’s early.” 
You shrug off his jacket, careful with the expensive material. “Thank you so much, but–” He pushes it back onto your shoulders, following you to the car door. “Mister Aventurine–” 
“I insist.” He opens the door for you. “You’ll freeze.” 
You can’t imagine him standing around in a suit vest and a shirt is warm, either.
You say nothing about it. You practically fall into the back of the cab, shocked. 
“Take it home.” 
“‘Take it–‘” You shake your head. You feel like you’re dreaming. “I can’t take this home. This thing is worth more than the money I just won.” 
But it’s warm, and it’s weighted in the most comforting way.
It calms your nerves. 
“It’s nothing fancy. It was only around one-hundred thousand credits.”  
“Are you serious–” 
“Take it.” And he is serious. You can see your reflection in his glasses. “Please.“ 
His eyes are really, really beautiful. 
You find yourself lost in them for a moment. 
His back is slightly soaked from the rain. He barely notices it. His hand rests on your knee when you swing your feet into the cab. 
You nod once, more to reassure yourself than anything. “Okay.” You look up at him. “Thank you so much.” 
“Don’t mention it.” He offers you a gentle wave before he shuts the door and the car drives off. 
He is cold. Frightfully so as you watch him shiver through the rear view mirror before he steps back into the casino. 
As the cab moves, you relay your address to the driver and sit back in the seat. You feel like you can finally breathe, but when you do breathe, you only smell chestnut and vanilla, and it blurs and muddies your senses nicely. 
You bury your icy fingers into the pockets of Aventurine’s coat, sinking into the neckline until the fur tickles your ears. 
Your fingers come into contact with something smooth and cool, like glass.
You fish it out. 
It’s a small perfume bottle. You pull the clear lid off of the tip of it and curiously smell the top. It smells exactly like him, the same perfume that’s drowned you for the last hour.
You don’t think you can get enough of it. 
You feel only slightly guilty for digging around in this man’s pockets—and, unsurprisingly, you don’t find a wallet—before you fish out a pair of fancy looking golden dice with light green dots on the faces. 
The dice, the perfume, and a small card. Not the credit card you won. That one is tucked away safely in your bag. 
It’s a business card. His business card. His name, what you recognise as the IPC’s logo, and his phone number are written in gold lettering on the laminated white card. 
You hum curiously.
Then, you fish out your phone and slowly type his number onto the screen. 
You: thank u 4 winning 2night for me. & the coat. the coat is nice. x
Sent 9:56pm
Aventurine: You found my gifts! :0 Did you like them?
You: maybe. i did like ur vest btw.
Aventurine: You can have it next time ;)
You find yourself smiling. Your fingers tremble with excitement over the keyboard on your screen.
You: i’ll give u a kiss 4 it :*
Aventurine: Done, deal. Pleasure doing business with you, gorgeous.
You have a feeling your wardrobe will be full of his clothes in the not so distant future. 
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harveybwabbit92 ¡ 5 months ago
Text
Grocery girl: Ken Sato x reader pt. 1
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You were a delivery girl who was a frequently dispatched to famous baseball player's Ken Sato residence, you were a nobody that anyone hardly paid attention to, until you found the legendary baseball passed out on his front steps looking like hell, being a bit of worry wart you help him inside and that things took a HUGE turn when you find yourself playing mommy for a giant baby dragon....
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Part 2,Part3,part4
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"He's been ordering a lot of Coconut water lately..." R/n mumbled as she loaded up her delivery van with the items on the shopping list Ken Sato's assistant sent her for his bi-weekly delivery, usually he just orders beer, protein shakes and a melange western food some of which were not a common find around Japanese super markets.
R/n had to go special import stores for some of the stuff Mr. Sato orders; which takes R/n though a wild runaround of the entire city, A route that none her other coworkers had the time or patience for; even the self-proclaimed "Sato-fan queen" Who stole R/n's route gave up within 20 minutes when she couldn't find the tiny shop that sold his special brand of coffee.
Her saga ended when she tried to cut corners and grabbed random items and delivered those instead...Yeah, that went over like a lead balloon. Her majesty got a harsh chewing out by the boss after Mr. Sato's assistant complained about the delivery and threatened a restraining order after the younger devilry girl displayed an obsessive and aggressive attitude.
(I.E. taking selfies of herself in front of the house, flirting into the intercom and trying to force herself into Mr Sato's house when she realized he wasn't home.)
Needless to say, R/n was assigned Mr. Sato's personal delivery girl, cos she was the only one that didn't have crush on him. Much to the ire of her female and few male coworkers. R/n remembered the first time Mr. Sato was there to receive his groceries in person. He seemed thrown off by her complete impassiveness towards him....
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{Flashback, To Ken taking the groceries from R/n, he kept staring at the delivery girl expecting her to crack a smile or squeal excitedly or something, but no, she kept a neutral expression on her face and stayed professional during the entire transaction.]
"Uh....Aren't you going to ask for my autograph?"
"Nope."
"But...I'm Ken Sato."
"Yeah, I know who you are and I don't care. sign here."
R/n holds out her tablet as Ken stares at her baffled; he signs the digital receipt, R/n printed out the receipt sticker and slapped it on the the box the baseball player was holding, The (Y/Height) woman then tipped her hat to him before getting into her van and driving off leaving Ken standing in his driveway completely dumbfounded. 
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After that Mr. Sato and R/n kept their interactions short and sweet, which seemed to work just fine for them. But things change and R/n was going to experience a very big change in her life.
It all started when the Sato-stalker queen Or Meiko AKA: "Meimei" as calls herself on her blog invited R/n to Mr. Sato's premier game, R/n tried to reject the offer as gently as possible; sports were never really her thing, but the bottle blonde girl had guilt tripped her into going. Apparently she doesn't have many friends (wonder why?), so there was R/n sitting up in the nosebleed section while feeling awkward in the sparkly baseball jersey Meimei had insisted she wear for the occasion.
The whole time the blonde was squealing and blabbing about Mr. Sato and how handsome he was and how unfair it was that R/n got to see him, thought the older woman was quick to dash whatever hopes Meimei had of hearing about Mr. Sato's personal life by informing her that he's barely home when she delivers to him and few times he is there it's just to receive the groceries.
"What goes on in Mr. Sato's private life is not our business..." R/n affirmed Meimei just pouted and called R/n mean before turning her attention to the pitch, she gasped loudly and started shaking R/n excitedly. "Ohmygash,ohmygash!! It's him! she squealed as Mr. Sato stepped on to the field towards his position at bat.
R/n couldn't help but wince when she watched Ken miss the first two balls, she saw the catcher from the other team say something that peeved off Mr. Sato; it looked like they were going to throw down until the umpire calmed it down and Mr. Sato change his position at the third pitch.
He pulled off an impressive power hit that got the crowd screaming and cheering. However, as Meimei was squealing and shaking R/n for what seemed to be for the umpteenth time she failed to notice her older coworker's attention was completely fixated on something else.
She felt R/n suddenly grab her hand. Meimei looked at R/n bemused but then noticed her complexion had gone ashen as the older delivery girl pointed up at the sky; the younger one followed her gaze and lost all of her peppiness in seconds as an explosion from a downed aircraft went off over the stadium causing the entire place to shake!
The stadium erupted into chaos as R/n instinctively covered her younger coworker from any fallen debris as the Kaiju alert system went off ordering everyone to evacuate! R/n and Meimei wasted no time getting out of the stadium just in time to see Ultraman arrive and punch the Kaiju away from the stadium. R/n stood back to watch them fight for a few moments before a hysterical Meimei dragged her away...
{Cut to a few hours later}
R/n was finishing up a few late night deliveries, some of her coworker didn't want to come in due to the monster attack so R/n was forced to take over their shifts. She had just finished delivering cat-food to a nice old lady, when she got a call from Mr. Sato he wanted donuts and coffee.
R/n sighed and went to work she pulled up to Ken's home on the old delivery scooter the boss had rusting in the back seeing as it was a small delivery, it was raining heavily by the time she pulled up to the house. R/n walked up and knocked the door Mr. Sato opened the door and looked startled to see her.
"Uh, What are you doing here so late?" He asked looking around his driveway, R/n cocked a brow and held up his order like it should be obvious. "Yeah, I know...But it's usually the old guy that delivers this late." R/n explained he took the night off she was filing in, Ken reluctantly took the donuts when he notices how wet her uniform was and looked outside again and noticed the rusty scooter just chilling in his driveway and frowned.
"You didn't drive all the way up here on that thing did you?" R/n just shrugged Mr. Sato looked like he was going invite her in or something, but they were interrupted by a weird cry coming from somewhere in the house. "What was that?" R/n inquired bouncing on her toes trying to look over his shoulder, the baseball player got this 'oh crap' look on his face as he quickly blocked her view.
"Uh, Nothing, j-just my TV! Here's your tip!" R/n's phone pinged the delivery girl's usual calm demeanor was replaced with one of panic as she tried to explain that Japan doesn't practice tipping! Only for her eyes widened in shock the amount he sent her. "...And e-Even if we did do tips, I think you overdid-" Mr. Sato quickly cuts her off. "No I didn't!" and slammed the door in her face.
R/n blinked a few times as she looked between her phone and the door baffled after a few seconds of trying figure out what that all about? Before shrugging then walked back her scooter and drove off....
{Ken gave the reader about three hundred dollars.)
[Next time R/n finds out just what Mr. Sato was hiding in his house the encounter was both cute and terrifying.]
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Cross posted on my A03/Squidgeworld/Wattpad.
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steveslevis ¡ 7 months ago
Text
‘tis the damn season
AUTUMN
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chapter contents/warnings: exes to whatever the hell this is, a little bit of smut, angst, weed and alcohol use, mutual pining, steve is an idiot and is afraid of commitment </3, barely proofread (sowwy)
w/c: 5.3k
The first big frost of the season blankets the town of Hawkins when you arrive on Wednesday night, the bits of ice glittering on the orange and brown leaves making the barren streets seem less intimidating as you make your way through your hometown for the first time in months. 
There’s a sense of anticipation and dread that fills your stomach while navigating the streets you know so well, knowing you’re going to be asked the same mundane questions about college in the big city a thousand times over during the next three weeks. You know that’s not the only thing filling you with dread for the weeks to come, but keep telling yourself that’s all you have to worry about — right?
The first evening you arrive in town is jam-packed, since your friends insisted on having a so-called “Friends-giving-mas” as the night that you arrived, due to your anticipated absence on the aforementioned Christmas. You spend a few hours with your mom and dad before leaving, enlisting your mom to help you make some cookies for the party, promising you’d leave her and your dad some behind. 
The clock hits 7 p.m. and you’re finally finished getting ready, having just thrown on a red velvet, long sleeved dress that hit just above your knees and your best black boots, Robin had requested everyone to look their best so she could take photos with her new camera throughout the party. You grabbed your secret santa gift and jacket, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your room. 
“Alright, I’m leaving.” you call out as you bound down the stairs and into the kitchen.
“Don’t forget your cookies, sweetheart! They’re on the table.” she replied from her place next to your dad on the couch, watching some rom-com while he was dozing beside her, “if you need us to come pick you up, we will.”
You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that you were only walking to the next house over on the road, so picking you up would be ridiculous. 
“Oh, I think I’ll manage just fine.” you joke in return while grabbing the plate of cookies, “love you guys!”
—————————
The outside of the Harrington’s house is gleefully lit with warm string lights, wreaths already adorning the front windows and main door to the house in anticipation of Christmas in a few weeks. You always admired the way their house looked during the holidays, but knew it was only a cheery facade to hide the dysfunction that lay within the halls of the residence.
You knew the family all too well, having grown up next to Steve your entire life. You were the same age as him, grew up attending all the same parties as him, but ran in completely different circles than him — well, up until your senior year of high school at least. 
Long story short, being best friends with Robin led to you ultimately becoming so-called friends with Steve Harrington as well. The two of you had what you now called a stupid summer fling before you left for Chicago in August, but the rest was history. The two of you had agreed to stay civil and not let the remnants of any unresolved feelings come between your friendship and the rest of the friend group.
So here you were, knocking on Steve Harrington’s front door on a random Wednesday in late November, cookies in hand as you stood there, shivering. You faintly hear Robin say that she would get the door, then hear footsteps pad towards the entrance. 
You’re greeted by your best friend with the strongest hug you swear you’ve ever experienced, and you feel like you might not ever be let go if she has anything to say about it.
“Oh my god! I missed you so much.” Robin exclaims, the widest grin on her face as she grabs for your hand, “everyone’s in here, we’re just waiting on Nance and Jonathan then we’ll be ready to eat but come in! I have so much to tell you about everything you don’t even know—” 
You follow behind her wordlessly, smiling to yourself as she rambles on about college applications and band and Vickie — who just so happened to be in the kitchen helping finish making the mashed potatoes so you had to be quiet — and everything that she can think to fit in a conversation to catch her best friend up on after months without. She leads you to the dining room after dropping off the cookies, where you hear two familiar voices having a very passionate conversation. 
“I’m telling you, man, I’m cursed—“
“You’re not cursed, Harrington. I’m telling you, you’re just looking in the wrong place for love.” Eddie retorts to his frustrated friend, rolling his eyes at him.
“Oh yeah? And where should I be looking?” Steve snorts, haphazardly tossing forks, knives and spoons atop the napkin at each seat of the table.
“I’ve been saying ever since what happened this summer, you should be going after — oh shit, Y/N!” Eddie interjects, cutting himself off when you trail in behind Robin.
The metalhead pulls you in for a bear hug, whispering in your ear about how he promises not to ask you boring questions about college like everyone else. As you’re being engulfed in his embrace, you hear the sound of silverware tumbling to the ground from the other side of the table, followed by a string of mumbled curse words from the dropper.
You pull away from Eddie’s hug to look at where the noise is coming from, only to see Steve fumbling with a fork and spoon while trying to stand up from where he was just kneeling. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, taking in everything about him that you told yourself you didn’t miss. Eddie gives you a knowing look and you roll your eyes, knowing that he’s trying to tell you to not make things weird, so you try your best.
“Stevie, how are you?” you call to him while walking around the table, putting on the best oblivious and excited face that you can.
“H-Hey, Y/N.” Steve says, feigning coolness as he pulls you in for a quick hug, nearly stumbling over his words when you use the nickname you always loved to tease him with, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.” 
His eyes flicker over to Robin momentarily, who shoots him a guilty grin before mouthing ‘sorry’ over your shoulder.
“Yeah, it was kinda last minute on my part, I just so happened to be coming home tonight since my finals were all at the beginning of the week. I kinda forced Rob to tell me when it would be so I could crash it,” you lie, trying to throw the blame on yourself instead of her, “sorry if I messed anything up, I-I’ll lay low and won’t eat if that messes up numbers or something—“
“No!” Steve rushes to retort, shaking his head at you adamantly, “I mean, shit—sorry. No, you’re not messing anything up at all, you know you’re always welcome here.” 
The smile on Steve’s face is genuine as he speaks, but there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes while he scans yours for any sign of hesitancy. You give him a small smile in return, quickly moving your gaze from his to push down that sinking feeling in your chest you know is coming. Your chest aches as you focus your eyes downward, realizing that this night would be a lot harder than you had convinced yourself that it would be. 
“Well!” Robin interjects, interrupting the growing awkward silence filling the air of the dining room where you stood. She reached for your hand while smiling over at you sympathetically, beginning to drag you towards the kitchen as she spoke, “gotta go say hello to everyone else before dinner!”
Your best friend whirled you around to the rest of the guests–which was just Nancy, Jonathan, and Vickie–who were all in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal. 
A slew of awkward questions about Chicago ensued in the moments leading up to and during dinner, but you took them in stride as they distracted you from the bright eyed boy across the table who kept sneaking glances in your direction any chance he got. You explained your major, what you did for work outside of class time, and talked about all the new friends you met in the short few months you’d been gone. You could’ve sworn Steve’s jaw clenched at the mention of a date you went on prior to leaving for break, but you didn’t put too much thought into it. 
Dinner goes by fairly quickly, and then it’s time for Secret Santa gifts in the living room. Robin begged everyone to participate, and even went through the effort of making sure you and Steve didn’t get each other, partly to not ruin the surprise of you being here and partly to diminish any awkwardness that might arise from it. 
You had drawn Jonathan’s name, so you gifted him a few rolls of different camera film. Each person had to guess who their Secret Santa was, but apparently your gift was pretty obvious since he hadn’t been able to find any film like it anywhere near Hawkins, so he guessed you first. 
Your turn rolled around and a small red gift bag was sat in your lap. You immediately knew who your gift was from, halfway from the grin plastered on his face and halfway from the smell lingering from inside the back in your hands. 
“Thank you, Eddie.” you giggle out while pulling out four perfectly rolled blunts from the gift bag, courtesy of the best dealer in Hawkins.
“It’s always a pleasure,” he jabs back, “we can fire one up after presents if you’d like.” 
You nod quickly at him, grinning widely before turning back to the circle where Robin was handing out gifts.
—————————
It’s not long before drinks are flowing and laughter is spilling through the Harrington residence, something that’s happened very few times within those halls. The night seems to go by too quickly, you notice how quickly when you check and it says 11 P.M. already, even though it feels like you’ve only been there a few hours. You’re sitting on the couch with Robin and Vickie, giggling their way through a story about some guy in the Hawkins band, when the sight of the back door sliding open and closed catches your eye. 
You turn your gaze to see Steve stalking into the cold on his own, head turned down as he walks towards one of the ice-slicked pool chairs on the deck. A frown passes over your face as you furrow your brows, excusing yourself from the couple on the couch as you slip outside to follow him with your bottle of wine, one of your newly gifted blunts and a lighter in hand. 
It’s the last thing you should be doing tonight, really. You shouldn’t be following Steve Harrington – the man who was too afraid to say he loved you and too afraid to commit to you – onto the porch. You should’ve stayed inside and drank some more wine with the rest of them and let yourself cut loose for once, but you just couldn’t do it. You just had to talk to him – you weren’t so sure what you wanted to talk about, but you just felt the need to.
“You alright?” was all you could slip out as you closed the sliding glass door, watching the brown haired boy from afar, making sure you weren’t making the wrong decision.
“Yeah–Yeah, just needed a little bit of fresh air.” Steve stammered, eyes widening for only a moment when he notices that it’s you that followed him outside.  
You only hum in response, stepping closer to him as you sense no annoyance or anger in his voice, finding a spot on the chilled pool chair next to his. After setting down the bottle of wine you’d been nursing throughout the night, you took the blunt you’d brought as a peace offering between your fingers and waved it in front of his face.
Steve looked up for a moment, gaze shifting between the blunt between your fingers and your lips that curled up into a mischievous yet friendly smirk. His own lips perked up in a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at you when you brought the blunt to your lips, followed by the lighter.
“Would you like to partake?” you joke while puffing smoke through your lips, mixing with the cold puffs of breath coming from Steve’s. 
“I’ll never say no to that,” he retorts, reaching to grab the blunt from your fingers. 
There’s a breath of comfortable silence between the two of you as he inhales, then lets out a long exhale before focusing his gaze back onto the pool in front of him, onto the ice forming on the pool cover as a way to avoid your eyes. 
“So, how’s the Stevie Harrington been faring since I’ve been gone?” you joked after a moment more of the quiet, shoving any nerves down that were threatening to force you to run back inside. 
Awful, utterly dull and extremely depressing, was what Steve wanted to say. 
He wanted to tell you how he fucked up so badly, how he hasn’t been the same since the last time he saw you, how he hasn’t even been able to look at anyone without thinking of you. He wanted to grab you by the cheeks and pull you in for a kiss and never let go. He wanted to scream and tell you how much he regretted ever letting you leave without knowing how he really felt, but he couldn’t now. It was too late, so he just said; “Oh, y’know. I’ve been fine. Just the same shit, different day.”
Steve wanted to kick himself for saying something so lame, something so uninteresting when the most interesting person in the world was sitting right in front of him. 
“Does ‘same shit, different day’ just mean you’re stuck being the same old chauffeur-babysitter you’ve been for the last two years?” you tease, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine at your feet. 
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Steve chuckled, giving you a warm smile as he took another puff. 
It only took a few moments to finally break the ice between the two of you, then things fell right back into place, right back into a comfortable normalcy. There was something that put you so at ease being outside with him, being able to talk to him without the looming thought of who would be the first to say “I love you” or who would be the first to leave waving over both of your heads. 
The next hour went by in a breeze, and it seemed the party inside died down by the time the two of you decided to walk back in. Steve closed the sliding glass door behind you two and you noticed only Eddie and Robin were left standing in the living room. Vickie was presumably in the guest bed, where Robin was about to head to. Jonathan and Nancy had left twenty minutes prior, only popping their heads out to say a quick goodbye before driving off.
Robin said a quick goodnight to you before heading up the stairs, along with a promise to see you tomorrow for a girl’s day. Then, it was just you, Eddie and Steve in the living room, Eddie at the couch setting up his bed for the night while the two of you stood in silence by the sliding glass door still. 
“I–I guess I should probably head home for the night,” you say, breaking the silence between the three of you as you start towards your bag and coat on the other side of the room.
“Why don’t you just stay?” Steve interjects a little too loudly, the weed and wine in his system instilling some false confidence in him. “It’s so cold out and I’m sure at this point your parents already think you’re staying anyways.”
You stop on your toes at Steve’s voice, cheeks heating at how interested he sounded in you staying there for the night. It’s not like it was a far and dangerous walk, Steve just wanted an excuse to be around you for longer. You turn around to look at him, then to Eddie, who was giving you a tired smile.
“We can have a sleepover on the couch,” Eddie chuckles, reaching for one of the pillows he was setting out for himself to move it to the other side of the couch for you. 
“I don’t have any clothes,” you suggest, looking down at your velvet dress that would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep in. 
“Oh, I’m sure Stevie has some clothes that you can sleep in!” Eddie says, shooting a smirk in his direction.
“O–Of course I do, I’m sure I still have your favorite pajama pants up there if you want them.” Steve says hurriedly, as if you would change your mind if he didn’t answer quickly enough.
You give the two of them a smile, pretending to contemplate the decision for a moment before nodding. You could’ve sworn you heard Steve let out a breath of relief at your nod, but he turned towards the stairs before you could acknowledge it. Without a word, you follow right behind him up the stairs, slowly realizing the effects of the cherry wine and weed are coming to the surface. 
Steve steps into his bedroom and you follow behind him, a situation the two of you knew all too well. 
—————————
You don’t know what led to this, but there you were, in Steve’s bedroom, him towering over your space on his bed as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Tongue against teeth, hands against cheeks, legs tangled together, just like they were meant to be. 
This wasn’t supposed to happen, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t come crawling back every time you were in town, but here you were. 
Somehow coming upstairs for a stupid pair of pajamas led to Steve giving you that look of lust and utter desire, led to you becoming a willing participant in his games once again after swearing you would never touch him again, led to you letting him sneak his way into your heart – and pants – yet again. 
Your head is spinning as he kisses you, his lips slotted into yours like they belonged there, a perfect fit. You’re unsure if it’s the wine, the weed or the sheer yearning that’s making you feel like this, but you don’t want it to stop any time soon. 
There’s a gnawing feeling in your stomach when Steve props his knee up on the bed next to your hip, you know you should stop before he gets any further, but the ache between your thighs is outweighing any thought of what would come after he spreads you open. 
Steve groans into your mouth when you pull him closer, fingers intertwining with and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and you only smirked against his lips in satisfaction. You knew everything about the boy who was turning to a puddle just from the touch of your fingers. You knew exactly how to make him tick, and him the same for you.
“Fuck,” Steve breathes when he finally pulls away from you, full lips parted as he stares down at you. There’s a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in so long, one you used to mistake for love but now only know to be pure lust. “I–I’m sorry I just, I need–I need you.”
You stare at the desperate, doe-eyed man in front of you for a long moment, mind wandering to a place of fear as you think about what you’re about to do. 
Instead of saying anything in reply, you close the space between the two of you once again, smashing your lips into his in a feverish and bruising kiss. Steve is on you in an instant, gently pushing you back and up on the bed, letting your head fall on his pillows. You can tell by the way he stumbles on his way up to you that he’s intoxicated — on the weed or the wine, or you, you’re not sure — but you soon realize that you are too.
A hand wanders toward the hem of Steve’s sweater, tugging at it quickly as he pulls away from the bruising kiss. He wastes no time in pulling the cable-knit up and over his head, tossing it to the side while sitting up on his knees to take you the sight of you in. Your skin was hot and your eyes were blown with lust, cheeks flushed and lips parted as you stared up at him.
You’d only been under him for a minute and had completely folded to his touch. You cursed yourself for letting your inhibitions crumble so quickly, but another part of you didn’t actually care, the same part of you that wanted to claim him as yours forever. 
Steve’s eyes trailed over you, from your cheeks to the low neckline of your dress, over the curve of your hips, ending on your thighs spread on either side of his knees. The crushed velvet of your skirt bunched where your leg met your hip, letting the fabric ride up enough for Steve to see exactly what he was searching for. 
He sucked in a breath at the sight of your white lace underwear beneath, having to hold himself back from diving in right that second.
“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, hands tracing over your hip bones while lowering his lips to yours once again.
A moan falls from your lips as his meet yours, his knee coming up between your thighs, creating friction against your core.
“Fuck—Stevie,” you say, choking back a pitiful whine while grinding against his thigh desperately, “please, I need you.”
You swear you hear Steve nearly choke at your words, three words he’d been dying to hear from you for months. 
“I know, I know, baby.” he coos at you, trying to keep his cool as he strains against his pants, “I’ll take care of you.”
You nod feverishly as he leans down to pepper kisses along your neck, taking his sweet time while trying not to get drunk off the scent of you.
“This—This doesn’t mean anyth—this doesn’t change anything,” he stammers between kisses, peering up at you as he speaks, “we can still stay close—keep being friends after this.”
You hum in agreement, ignoring the dread building in your gut as you do. You want to be more than friends, you want to scream at him until he admits that he loves you too. But he nearly said it doesn’t mean anything, so you’re convinced he wants nothing to do with you after tonight, nothing but a friend to laugh with and a pretty face to fuck on every break from college. 
You push the thoughts from your mind, focusing on the boy in front of you as his hands begin to massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your core with every circle. Steve chuckles lowly as you let out a whine of anticipation, teasing you silently as he gives in to your desires.
Steve knows your body like he knows his own, so what comes after pulling off your dress is nearly second nature to him. One large hand trails to the waistband of your underwear while the other reaches for your breast, nipple peaked from the exposure to the cold air conditioning. You moan in surprise when he wastes no time in putting his mouth to work on your other nipple, tugging your underwear down your legs simultaneously. 
His fingers immediately fall to your core once you’re free of the underwear, fingertips circling the bundle of nerves at the top as you let out another whimper. 
His moves are careful but quick, he knows you want to waste no more time, and you’ll whine about his teasing if he doesn’t act soon. 
He’s out of his boxers in an instant, one hand keeping contact with your clit as he situates himself above you.
“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Steve says, voice low as his eyes raked over your body, “so pretty spread out for me, all fucked out for me even though I’ve barely touched you.”
“Stevie…” you whimper, reaching a hand up to him, but he pulls from your reach with a smirk across his face.
“Tell me what you want from me,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek as he lines himself up with your slick, teasing the tip against you slowly.
“I—I need you, Steve.” you beg, cheeks flushing at the admittance, “I need you to fuck me, please.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” he retorts with a smirk, sliding into you with ease.
You both let out a low moan as he bottoms out, filling you in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. You forgot how thick he was in the time you’d been gone, your body wasn’t used to the stretch of his cock inside you, but it still felt like he was meant to be there. Like he was the only one who could make you feel this way.
And you were right, nobody could make you feel that way. Nobody else could touch you and make you fall apart in less than five minutes like he could. Nobody else could get you so riled up over a few praises thrown in with some condescension (which you embarrassingly loved too much) like he could. Nobody could hold off from cumming long enough to give you three orgasms before getting one of their own like he could. 
Nobody did it like he could.
This doesn’t mean anything you repeat in your mind, clinging to his arm like your life depended on it after the two of you calmed your breathing and cleaned up. You weren’t sure if you were repeating those words to convince yourself or to ease your own mind about what just went down, but you knew they stung your heart more than any fighting words the two of you had ever exchanged.
“I missed this, cuddling with you, holdin’ you like this.” was all he slurred out against your hair, pressing a sleepy kiss into the crown of your head.
“Yeah, me too.” you mumble in return, accepting the warmth of his embrace as sleep finally took you in, ignoring the gnawing pain growing in your chest.
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The spice of Steve’s cologne mixes with the familiar scent of his room, filling your senses when you wake, nearly sending you into a panic. You sit upright in the bed, turning to face the boy you claimed you wanted nothing to do with romantically just a few hours ago. Steve is sleeping peacefully next to you, plush lips parted and brows furrowed as he subconsciously pouts about the loss of your touch. The alarm clock behind him read 2:03 A.M., meaning you hadn’t been out for too long, but long enough to sober you up somehow. 
Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get out of here. Is all you can think as you stumble out from under the comforter, knowing you would never live it down if anyone found you’d slept in his bed, especially with your limbs entangled like they just were. You quickly dress in the clothes you’d originally come into the bedroom to fetch, and snuck out of the bedroom without a sound. 
Before making it to the living room, you turned toward the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. What you weren’t expecting to be faced with in the kitchen was Eddie, but there he was, leaning against the counter with disheveled hair that probably mirrored your own. 
“What a night so far, huh?” he jokes as you shoot him a knowing glare while trudging across the tiled floor. 
“Don’t even start with me, Munson.” you warn, absentmindedly reaching your hand up to the cabinet for a glass while shaking your head.
“Woah, don’t get that attitude with me! I didn’t say anything,” he laughs, setting his own glass into the sink, “but that also doesn’t mean I didn’t hear anything.”
“You did not,” you snap back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he gives you a shit-eating grin, “there’s no way you heard anything because nothing happened.”
“You’ve always been such a bad liar, Y/N.” Eddie laughs, stepping out of the kitchen to walk towards the living room where the two of you would be sleeping. 
A sigh escapes your lips when Eddie leaves, letting you be alone with your thoughts finally. There was an ache in your chest that wasn’t going away any time soon, and it was in that moment that you wondered if you would ever be able to get over Steve Harrington, or if you would be in a continuous cycle of hurt and comfort for the rest of your damned life.
You collected your thoughts as you downed a glass of water, throwing back two ibuprofens with the last chug for good measure, before finding your way back to the living room. Eddie was on his side on the long side of the L-shaped couch, leaving the shorter side for you to sleep on. His eyes were closed as you laid down with your feet next to his own, but you knew he wasn’t asleep yet. 
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” you heard through the darkness after turning off the table lamp once you were settled.
“I know.” you sigh in return, staring up at the ceiling that was only lit by the streetlights flowing in from outside. “I just don’t want to live like this forever, I–I can’t keep being the secret that Steve is too embarrassed to talk about.”
“He’s not embarrassed of you,” Eddie said, voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear, “he’s just afraid of fucking everything up even more than he already has.”
If only he could say that to my face, then maybe I’d believe it, you thought to yourself, chest tightening at just the thought of the brown-eyed boy who was fast asleep upstairs. 
You don’t reply to Eddie, unsure of what to say back, unsure of what you could squeak out without breaking down. 
“Goodnight, Eds,” is all you say in return, though you know you won’t be getting any sleep. 
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
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After falling asleep for all of fifty minutes around 5 in the morning, you decided you had to leave. 
The entirety of the almost four hours you laid on Steve’s couch consisted of staring at the ceiling and fighting off tears while thinking about how you regretted everything you said and did over the last twelve hours. 
Coming to the Harrington house was a mistake, even stepping foot back in Hawkins was feeling like a mistake at this point. 
The only words repeating in your mind were This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything.
You eventually had enough of the self-loathing and inability to sleep, so it was time to go. It was time to hastily change out of the pajamas that smelled too much like the boy you loved too hard, and time to go collapse in your own bed. There was no telling if you’d actually fall asleep once you made it there, but that was beside the point.
It was when you finally made it back to your parent’s house, to your childhood bedroom, that you swore that you wouldn’t see Steve Harrington again for the rest of Thanksgiving break, and hopefully would avoid seeing him again for a long while, for the sake of saving yourself from another heartbreak.
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tags: @carinacassiopeiae
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dahliakbs ¡ 7 months ago
Text
Batfam x Doppleganger! Reader (Part 2)
Part 1 here Masterlist
You'd think that as soon as they found out about your existence in their house they'd kick you out but no. Instead they'd practically treated you like a brand new sibling.
You'd been given new clothes, a new room and brand new family members all in one day. To you, these people were just random strangers you'd stolen the appearances of but to them you were a rather interesting case.
A doppleganger with no where to go, not something you'd come across on the daily but not completely surprising for Gotham.
Dick was the first one to officially meet you since he was the first one to run off and find you. He immediately welcomes you to the family which is strange since you were technically what some people would call a "stalker" but he just seems to gloss over that.
Tim was the second one to meet you, he seemed very interested in your powers, asking numerous questions on how they worked to which he received zero answers.
Again you thought he would've thrown you out since the first time you guys met you were shifted into a disturbing version of him but what you've come to learn is this family is mostly accepting of the weird and abnormal.
Damian was rather calm about the whole situation which wasn't much of a shock. He didn't seem to mind your presence in the house that much seeing as how he'd always somehow find himself in a room with you.
After awhile you'd notice him following you around a lot more or quietly standing next to you while doing anything.
He's a bit creepy at times but what are you expecting from a tiny assassin?
You've still yet to meet he who must not be named (Jason) which is surprising since even though Dick doesn't live here he's still at the manor every other day. No one really speaks about him that much but when they do everyone goes silent.
Last but not least was the head of the family himself Bruce Wayne. As you've learned before he was the quiet and stoic one.
You'd barely met him in his own house which was rather strange but the one time you'd chosen to walk around the manor with his appearance he'd finally showed himself.
Walking out of the shadows with a serious expression.
"(Reader) right?" He asked but you knew he knew the answer. He then beckoned you to follow after him.
Slowly leading you towards a lonely grandfather clock stood in the middle of the hallway.
"I've been researching your ability and there are some things I think you'd like to see" he said. Next thing you know you were in the bat cave looking at articles and documents on your ability.
This had become a regular thing, it was the only was Bruce could think of getting along with you and it worked. Helping you ease that little fear you had of him off your chest and making you see him in a new light.
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