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55sturn · 4 months

Text

✮ I WAS BLIND TO SEE

pairing: chris sturniolo × female!reader

synopsis: in which y/n spent years begging chris to let her into his heart, but he was unrelenting, so eventually she gave up. but after years of her pining helplessly, chris realizes that he grew to love her back and races against the clock to get her back.

warnings: swearing, lowkey toxic!chris, angst for like majority of the fic, oblivious!reader, oblivious!chris, mentions of alcohol, justin’s lowkey a dick, chris is a literal fucking dumbass, i love the whole “idiots in love” trope.

THIRD PERSON POV

it was no shocker to find out how deep y/n's love for chris ran, after all she had been in love with him since they were sophmores in high school. she loved every single thing there was to love about him, and the less lovable things, she understood where they stemmed from.

she had a very deep connection with him, they had been the closet out of him, his brothers, and her. he could turn to her for anything, and vice versa. however, there was one issue.

chris didn't reciprocate the love she felt. he expressed numerous times to anyone who asked, that she was his best friend, nothing more. he saw her as the female extension of him and his brothers.

the only person he couldn't tell that to though, was her. so instead of letting her down easy, he ignored it. and that caused more problems than he saw coming. because of his naturally flirty nature, it filled the girl with false hope, it led her to believe that maybe her feelings were returned.

no one was able prepare for the inevitable fallout that occurred when chris' feelings, or lack thereof, came to light.

FLASHBACK

chris was sitting at his desk when nick knocked on his door, he welcomed him into his room with a barely discernible "come in."

"chris we gotta talk." nick muttered, standing in the doorway with his arms folded and a frustrated look on his face.

"what's up?" chris sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned in his gaming chair to face the older triplet.

"you need to tell y/n about the way you feel, well the way you don't feel."

"why? it's not like i'm hurting her." chris scoffed, not really wanting to break his best friend's heart.

"chris, she literally just spent an hour talking to me on facetime about how she wants to confess her feelings to you directly because instead of being honest, you're playing into her feelings! i can't keep giving her advice and getting her hopes up knowing that you are just going to crush her."

"whatever nick, i'll talk to her later."

and so, when y/n came by later that day, she gathered the nerve to tell chris with a shaky breath and unsteady hands.

"chris can we talk?"

"yeah what's up?" chris hummed, knowing very well where this was going, and despite the fact that he was just about to break her heart, he felt some sort of twisted pride stir in his chest. he liked knowing that someone so close to him was pining for him, it made him feel powerful, and he hated that it made him feel that way. it truly disgusted him.

"i know this probably isn't a secret by any means but i've got feelings for you. like 'i'm in love with you' feelings and i don't know if i've been reading into things too much or if i've read into them correctly but it seems like you return them, or at least act like you do and if that's the case, i'm glad i told you. and if i've read them completely wrong, i'm about to feel like the biggest fool possible." y/n rambled, breathing out a nervous laugh as chris' eyes bore into hers.

"listen y/n, you're a great girl. any guy would be lucky to be loved by you the way you love me but i'm sorry, i don't see you that way. i know i've fed into your feelings and your flirting, and it makes me feel like such a jackass but i didn't know how to tell you and i really didn't want to break your heart. you're my best friend and i would give anything to return your feelings but i don't and it wouldn't be fair for me to pretend i do." chris whispered, his heart tearing in two as he watched the hurt and horror flash in her eyes as she realized that she had read everything wrong. his arms slowly slid around her shoulders, pulling in her into him, or at least in attempt to.

"no. you don't get to hug me after you just admitted that you played with my feelings. you literally just contradicted yourself, the fuck do you mean 'it wouldn't be fair to pretend to return your feelings." that's exactly what you did! god this was a mistake." she spat, turning on her heels and making her way up the stairs leading from chris' room. she grabbed her jacket off the back of one of the dining room chairs and left without so much as a word.

and that was the last that chris had heard from her until they ended up back in boston at the same time.

FLASHBACK OVER

y/n sighed as she made her up the sturniolos' driveway. her family had agreed to a huge family dinner with the triplets' family and she was dreading having to see chris. she was on perfectly fine terms with nick and matt, they had actually grown closer. y/n just refused to be an active presence and figure in chris' life. whenever she wanted to hang out, it’d be away from their house. away from chris.

knocking on the door, a small smile pulled at her lips. she missed mary-lou and jimmy, she hadn't had much time to see them since going back home, she had just been busy with other things, and the fact that she was slightly avoiding them because she had a feeling chris or one of his brothers told them about what had happened.

"y/n! my sweet girl i've missed you." mary-lou cooed as she opened the door, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"i've missed you too, i'm sorry i haven't come by yet, i've been busy." the girl pouted slightly, feelings guilty for staying away for as long as she had.

"busy ignoring a certain boy of mine?" the older woman teased gently, being fully aware of what had gone down and her heart hurt for the young girl. she knew what chris felt, she could see in his eyes when he spoke about his former best friend, a mother always knows. she also knows that chris just hasn't been made aware of the fact that he feels the same as y/n once did.

as mary-lou led y/n up the stairs and into the dining room where the sturniolos' and y/n's parents sat, y/n felt her chest grow tight as all eyes, including chris' fell on her.

"hey everyone, sorry i'm late." she laughed, returning the hug that jimmy pulled her into as he stood up.

"don't worry about it, we're just glad you showed up." jim smiled down at her as she took her place between justin and her mother, unfortunately across from chris.

chris' forced his gaze to his lap as he fiddled with his fingers, ever since the night he turned her down, a strange feeling had been stirring and beating relentlessly in the pit of his stomach, he almost felt like he had made a mistake rejecting her.

as the dinner went on, chris was determined to meet her gaze but she was just as determined to not look at him, in fear that she would crumple into a sobbing wreck. she tried to move on but it was hard when he had already held her heart for so long. she feared that she would never love someone the way she loved and still deep down, loves him.

after the dinner had finished, the adults gathered in the living room, talking about shit their kids didn't care about or had heard a million times already, so the rest of them moved to the deck, all claiming a chair as their own while justin grabbed a beer for all of them.

"so mousey, whatcha been up to, like really? seeing anybody?" justin hums, watching the twenty year old girl that he considered his baby sister shift awkwardly in her chair.

"quit calling me that." y/n groans, rolling her eyes at the nickname that justin had given her back when she was in elementary school, she was so quiet compared to his brothers that he referred to her as a mouse which led to him branding her "mousey."

"and before you ask again, i've seen a couple guys here and there but nothing really stuck.” she sighs, taking a sip of her beer as justin lods, kissing his teeth with a teasing smirk on his face.

“what about you chris?”

“justin don’t.” chris warns, glaring at his older brother as he sees through justin’s plan. justin is fully convinced that chris is in love with y/n, someone just has to spell it out for him. matt and nick both look at each other with wide eyes as they clue into what justin is trying to do.

y/n scoffs, sliding her beer across the table with a roll of her eyes before she stands up,

“you’re a dick.”

“y/n wait.” chris calls out, jogging after as she makes her away around the house to her car, shaking her head as she walks away.

“what do you want chris?” she sighs, turning to face him and look at him, really look at him for the first time that night.

“i’m sorry about justin, he’s convinced that i’m running from my feelings or some shit and he’s trying to make me see that.”

“that’s nice chris. you know, i came here tonight thinking that it’’d be easy to see you after how many months but no, it’s been just as hard as the night you broke my heart. it’s hard because i miss you, so fucking much but i can’t get over you. and i can’t get over you hurting me, whether you meant to or not.”

“i miss you too, y/n. come back please.” chris whispers, a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he stares at the girl he called his best friend.

“no. i don’t think you do. you miss the me that would follow you around like a lost puppy and feed your ego with all the attention i gave you. you miss the love i gave you because you didn’t have to search anywhere else for it. i was some sort of fall back for you. and if i stuck around after you broke my heart to hear you say that you loved me, knowing it wasn’t the same way that i love you, it would’ve killed me chris.”

“i’m sorry, i really am. i just miss my best friend.”

“i stopped being your best friend long before i confessed my feelings to you.” she whispers, the raw emotion she felt as she recounted how things changed evident in her voice, lea chris confused by what she meant.

“what?”

“you stopped seeing me as your best friend quite a while ago. you started seeing me as this your could always count on to boost your ego, to fill your head with this idea that you were a god, that you were the center of my universe. you stopped treating me like your best friend and started treating me like i was a fucking groupie, chris. you stopped remembering important things i told you about myself, you got me a copy of a book that i couldn’t stand, that you knew i couldn’t stand because when i first told you about, you laughed at how insane i sounded. and you said it was for my birthday, but my birthday was three weeks before that. you started only paying attention to things i said that made you feel good, and i thought that if i’d dismiss it and pretend that it wasn’t happening, that it’d go away. i figured you were just sorting out your feelings. but no, you were playing me.”

“that’s not tr-“

“yes it is. i excused it by convincing myself you were busy. that you were stressed. but in reality, you stopped giving a fuck about me and only gave a fuck about the attention i paid you, and now that it’s gone, you feel lost and helpless. so no, you don’t miss me.” she replies, her voice slowly becoming void of all emotion, as if she had accepted what had happened and moved to face her car, before turning back to him.

“for what it’s worth, i miss my best friend too, but when i look at you now, i don’t see him. i see a person who looks like him, but is completely different. and justin is right, you’re running from your feelings but i don’t think they’re feelings for me. i love you, always have, always will. i wish i could say that you love me too, but i don’t think you do.”

chris watches her car back out of the driveway and speed down the street with his heart in his hands, forced to grapple with just how badly he hurt her.

months had passed and chris was still completely shut out of y/n’s life, and it left a bitter and extremely hard pill for chris to swallow. he knew he fucked up and he knew asking her for forgiveness was an insane ask but he missed her.

and not the attention she gave him. he missed her. her warmth, the fuzzy feeling in his chest that she gave him when he’d crack a joke and look around to see if she found it funny. he missed the way he could non-verbally communicate with her the way he can with his brothers. all he’d have to do is send her a look and she’d know what he was thinking. he missed her hugs and the way she could comfort him in a split second. he missed the person that knew him better than he knew himself, and he missed the girl that he knew better than anyone.

everyone around chris knew what was happening, they saw it in the way he’d sulk whenever nick mentioned some guy she was trying to date. or the way his eyes would soften at the mention of her and matt hanging out before his face would fall when matt says they’re going out to some random place to hang out. in the way chris’ eyes would brighten when he saw something that reminded him of her or her favourite movie showed up on the netflix previews.

everyone around chris knew that he wasn’t just homesick for his favourite person, he was lovesick too. they could see the gears turning in his head and heart, that he was slowly starting to openly show his love for her, the same love she felt for him. chris was guarded and haunted by girls that have hurt him, they knew he closed off his heart to anything but familial and platonic love, so when genuine, deep romantic feelings started blooming in his chest like the flowers in spring, he didn’t know what they were. he always thought it was platonic love for his best friend, but everyone could see it was more.

everyone but chris. until the day he saw his feelings for what they really were.

FLASHBACK

chris walked upstairs, halting halfway up to text his friend back as he half listened to nick and matt’s shared conversation, not really care until he hears a sentence that left a sour taste in his mouth.

“y/n wants to ask brendon to be her boyfriend. she thinks it could go well.”

“is she over chris?”

“not really but she wants to try and move on.”

chris rolled his eyes and stomped up the rest of the stairs, not understanding why there was such an angry feeling building in his chest like a fire rapidly consuming everything in its wake.

throughout the day, chris let his anger consume his every action, his every response, every single reaction he has to anything. it was pissing his brothers off because they had no clue why he was angry. until nick pieced it together.

“you heard our conversation about y/n didn’t you? that’s when you started acting a like a dick to everyone and everything.”

“whatever nick it doesn’t matter.”

“you’re fucking jealous, aren’t you?”

“who gives a fuck if i am?”

“why are you jealous if you don’t see her that way?” nick pressed, a smug grin on his face as he pushed the youngest triplet, itching to get the long awaited confession out of chris.

“i’m not jealous.”

“right because if you were, that would mean you actually feel the same way y/n does. which would also mean that literally everyone else in the world was right about you from the fucking get-go.” matt snickered, finding joy in teasing chris for being a complete and utter dumbass for so long.

“oh my god, you’re right. is that what you wanna hear? that i’ve been a complete jackass to her for no reason? that i do feel the same and that everyone is right? that i have no reason to feel the way i do at the thought of her being with another guy? cause if so, there you fucking go.” chris snapped, yelling and cursing out his brothers with misplaced anger.

matt just laughed as he quickly merged into the turning lane, taking chris to y/n’s apartment.

“you know what you need to do.”

FLASHBACK OVER

chris sighs as he raises his fist to the door, his entire body vibrating. his nerves were on fire, he had absolutely no clue how to go about what he was about to do. he didn’t even know if it was a good idea.

as he drops his fist back to his side, the door opens, travelling y/n standing on the other side, her hair tucked beneath her hoodie, the one that chris had gotten her gotten the prior year for christmas because the colour looked pretty on her. chris felt his breath get stuck in his throat and his heart rate quicken as he met her eyes.

“chris what the fuck are you doing here?”

“i know you think i don’t love you.” chris starts, pushing his way into her apartment as she watches him, confused etched along her features as her brows knit together.

“okay, and?”

“and i know you think i stopped paying attention to you. but you’re wrong. you are all i think about, every second of every fucking day, you are running through my mind on a loop. i only ever think about the way you love cheesy chick flicks but will never say it out loud because you don’t want to be made fun of or the way you hate when people dog-ear the pages in their books because it ruins the quality. i only ever think about how much you miss boston in the summer because it’s the perfect temperature, but you hate it in the winter because you hate snow. or how you stop to pet every animal you see just so they know what it’s like to feel a loving touch. or how you refuse to wear anything in your favourite colour because you’re scared of attaching bad memories to it and hating the colour because it’s been your favourite since you were seven. or how feel bad when you don’t give the squishmallows on your bed equal attention because you believe they can feel things. or the fact that your favourite movie is coraline because you relate her deeply but will never your mom that in fear of breaking her heart. or the fact you never once deserved to be treated the way you were by me because i couldn’t see my feelings for what they were.” chris rambles, taking a deep breath as he looks at her, her mouth open as she prepares to speak but chris cuts her off,

“i know that you won’t be able to believe me right away, but i want to prove to you that i love you. it took me a long time to realize it because i’m a fucking idiot. i always have been but this love has been here since the moment i met you, i just confused it for something platonic when it was and is so much more than that. so please hear me out and don’t ask that guy to be your boyfriend, ask me. i want to be the one to love you for the rest of your life. i know i’ve fucked up, i will spend forever and a day trying to make up for it. i know i’m late but please, just give me one more chance.”

“okay.” she whispers, her eyes watering as she finally gets to hear everything she’s ever wanted chris to say. chris smiles, looping his fingers in the edges of hoodie pocket as he tugs her forward, pressing his lips to her so feverishly that he’s sure his lips will bruise but he’s scared to waste another moment, that when he opens his eyes this will all just be some sick and twisted dream. but when he pulls away and opens his eyes, he’s met with the reality that she’s there, her hands cradling his face as she wipes away the tears he didn’t even know existed before pressing another kiss to his lips.

“i’ve always been right in front of you chris, i’m just glad you finally opened your eyes.”

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eating-plastic · 10 months

Text

Leaving Morals Behind: Kent x fem!reader SMUT

Warnings: NSFW, smut (MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI), age gap (older man-younger woman. Reader is ALWAYS +18), AFAB!reader, p in v sex, rough sex, oral sex (male receiving), masturbation, choking (the good kind 😏) , the ol' cheatin' with the babysitter trope, dom!Kent, sub!reader, degrading, infidelity (duh), swearing, slow burn, mentions of PTSD, reader tries so hard to be a good person lol, there are some feeling in this, probably some grammatical errors

Word Count: 7724 Words

A/N: Okay, I know, infidelity is wrong, cheating is wrong, I wouldn't cheat on my partner, and I'd hope to God he wouldn't cheat on me, my mama always said married men are off limits...but y'all are lying if you said you wouldn't become a homewrecking whore for this man. I'd happily be this man's fucktoy if Jodi ain't givin' it up lol. Please leave all morals at the "read more" line, you will be able to pick them back up at the end of the fic. Keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times, and away we go!

--------------------

You always thought you were a good person, or at least you always tried to be. You liked to be liked, giving and getting respect and rewards. Always wanting to be friends with a strong moral compass you never strayed from. So when you had inherited your grandfather's old farm and had to move to Stardew Valley, you were none the wiser that it was going to be a test of your good nature.

A test you were going to fail at.

--------------------

Stardew Valley was beautiful, at least you thought so. Sure it wasn't as big and bustling as the city you were used to, but you didn't mind. No, the only problem you had was money.

The farm was a fixer upper, that was for sure. You knew you would have to get some seeds and maybe some animals to make money, but all you were concerned with was making the home look like a home.

And food. You needed food.

Whelp, looks like it was job hunting time for you.

Unfortunately you didn't even know where to start.

"Wow, so mom was right," the sound of a male voice causes you to turn. Behind you was a man about your age with blonde hair. "Someone did move into the old man's place."

Of course, that's where you would start. Being nice as you always were.

"Hi, I'm Y/N. Uh, this was apparently my grandpa's farm," you hold your hand out for him to shake. He takes it, but looks at you weird.

"You didn't know?"

"Uh, well no. I wasn't very close with him. I think I only knew him when I was a toddler," you truly didn't remember, then again your family was never close with their own. "So, you gotta name?"

"Oh yeah, sorry. I'm Sam."

Well, so far so good.

"Well, Sam, you wouldn't happen to know if anyone here has a help wanted sign or something. Kind of, uh...need to get this place fixed up."

He thinks for a moment.

"Eh, not sure. But hey, why don't I show you around? I'm sure you'll find something!"

With that, you followed Sam around, even getting to know him a bit more. You found him relatively likable, but you didn't really support his dislike for authority. Of course, you felt disappointment bubbling within you due to small towns typically meaning little opportunities. At the sight of your defeated face, Sam sighs.

"Look...there's someplace that is hiring, but it kinda sucks."

"Psh, I just need enough money for food and get the farm looking like, well, an actual farm."

"Yeah, it really does look like a shithole," at that, you punch his shoulder. "Ow! Okay, sorry. Look, I work at Jojamart, it's this big business that moved in recently, and they're always looking for workers. I don't like it, but if you can put up with it, then I'll take you there."

To make a long story short, you told Sam to lead you there.

--------------------

You tried to get by on such a humble paycheck, but operation "fix up your new farm" was going slower than you'd like. On the bright side, at least your friendship with Sam was going well. You viewed him as the brother you never had, and he viewed you as the sister he never had. Not to mention he had introduced you to his friends Sebastian and Abigail, although the latter was more agreeable and welcoming to your kindness.

About a month or two of you living in Pelican Town had passed, Sam had asked if you wanted to go out drinking with him. He even added that it was his treat since you said you didn't want to spend your paycheck on anything that wasn't a necessity. He clearly had something he wanted to talk to you about and you alone, considering Sebastian and Abigail weren't present like usual.

"So...any reason you wanted to drag me out for a drink?" swirling your glass and watching the drink that moved within.

"First of all, you need it. You've been working for six months straight."

"I have not! And for your information, I can handle the responsibilities of a job. You can't even bear working for an hour." you quipped.

"Not true. I can't handle working two hours, thank you very much."

"Heh, okay okay," you prepared to take a sip of your drink. "So, what's the second thing?"

"How good are you with kids?"

You nearly choke on your drink and let out a laugh of disbelief.

"Wha-What kinda question is that?" your laugh makes Sam let out a nervous chuckle.

"Yeah, that does sound weird, huh?"

"You don't say."

He clears his throat, before explaining himself.

"Look, my mom's been stressed. Especially since my dad's been deployed. I gotta kid brother that she always worries about, and leave yours truly to babysit. Besides, you said you've been looking for a second job, anyways."

It's true. With the humble paycheck Joja was giving you, it was hard to get the farm fixed up, hence why you never went out drinking with Sam and his friends.

"It won't be much, but my mom really needs the break. Even if it's just for a day," the blonde looks at you pleadingly.

"Any little bit helps," you nod. "You sure your mom would be okay with a total stranger watching her kid?"

"Believe me, you're not a stranger to her. I've talked about so much that she thinks we're dating," he jokes.

"Ew!" you did a fake shudder at that, even making a goofy grossed out face.

"I know!" he lets out his own playful noise of disgust, before collecting himself. "So, uh, what do you say? Think you can put up with my little brother."

"Of course I can. I've babysat more kids than I can count before moving here. You have got yourself a deal, Samson." you held your hand out to shake on it.

Sam gave you an annoyed look that made you laugh. He hated being called by his full name, which you reveled in. Still, he shook your hand, sealing the deal.

--------------------

You told Sam that you would show up at his place the following Saturday. Upon meeting his mother Jodi and his little brother Vincent, you liked them just as quickly as you liked him. Jodi did look as exhausted as her eldest son described, and was trying to turn you away from babysitting her youngest. Not because she didn't trust you, but because she felt she didn't have the money you deserved for taking time out of your day to watch the little boy that was eagerly asking you all sorts of questions.

You just told her what you told Sam, any little bit helped no matter how small. Besides, you were quickly taking a liking to Vincent. In fact, you would say that he was one of the cutest kids you'd ever babysat.

And so, after standing your ground, the woman caved, and asked her youngest son if he would like you to watch over him.

The answer was a resounding "yes".

So she left, leaving the two of you alone in the home.

--------------------

"What are you doing?" Vincent asked, watching you tidy up the living room of the home.

"Just cleaning the room up a bit. Wanna help me? you had decided to indulge the child's love for insects, making sure he didn't get too dirty. At least, to the best of your abilities. He still needed to wash his hands afterwards. As such, you decided to assist Jodi even more by picking the house up a bit.

"I thought only mom cleaned?" he cocked his head to the side.

"Everyone cleans, kiddo. A nice home means a nice life," you moved to the kitchen to do some dishes.

"Is that true?" he asked.

"Mmhm, it is. Come on, you can help me dry dishes."

"But isn't that boring?" he still followed you into the kitchen despite his question.

"It doesn't have to be. How about I tell you a story while we work? Sound good?" you knelt down to be at eye level with the kid.

"Okay...but only if you let me have gummies afterwards."

"Whatever you say kiddo. Just don't tell your mother about the "gummy" part, kay?" you ruffled his hair and moved a chair closer to the sink for him to stand on.

He pulled himself onto the chair, and you began to tell a story you remembered from your childhood.

--------------------

You were coming up on a year of living in Stardew Valley, and your farm didn't look like it's former self at all. Now, you had crops of your own, as well as a couple of hens. As such, you quit your job at Jojamart, now selling your wares, but you still babysat Vincent at least once a week.

You loved the kid just as you loved Sam: as another brother you never had. Jodi was still apologetic with the small amount of money she paid you, but you no longer cared. You weren't babysitting her younger son for money anymore, now you were doing it because you wanted to. Besides, you enjoyed helping the overworked woman out with cleaning up the house a bit.

As such, it allowed her to repay you by joining her family for dinner. It was nice eating with what you now would consider a surrogate family, now that you were so far away from your own. In fact, both Jodi and Vincent had finally stopped calling you and Sam a couple, which was nice.

Yes, your good nature and morals was certainly still shining through, and rewarding you in the end.

That was until he showed up.

You were eating some of Jodi's lentil soup for supper that night. While Vincent complained about it, you told him that if you could eat it, he could eat it. So he sucked it up.

Meanwhile, Sam was discussing a song he was writing with Sebastian asking for your ideas. The ideas you gave ranged from serious to jokey.

It was all going so well, until the front door opened.

You all turned your heads to look at who it was. Though you never met him, you knew just who you were looking at. Sam, Vincent, and Jodi all told you about Kent. You knew he was in the military, and how his family had worried about him. He was loved, and everyone's words made you want to meet him when he got back from his deployment.

Now though, you felt small as his eyes fell upon you. He was analyzing you, a stranger in his home, despite clearly being on good terms with his family.

You wanted to excuse yourself early, now no longer hungry as you were intruding on what should have been a nice moment of a family reuniting.

Of course, after Kent found out you were both Sam's best friend and Vincent's babysitter, he stopped staring daggers at you like you had just burnt his most valued possessions. He even offered you his hand to shake, which you noticed was rough and large compared to yours.

After being properly introduced to him, you voiced that you were going to leave, coming up with the excuse that your crops needed tending to.

As you walked home, you decide to stay away from Sam's place for a bit, wanting him and his family to have a proper reunion with the patriarch of the house.

--------------------

It had been a few days since that dinner, and you were still following your decision. You still hung out with Sam, and Jodi and Vincent always said "hi" to you when you passed by them in town square, but you still didn't want to intrude.

So you spent these past days walking around Pelican Town, after tending to your crops and hens. You loved taking in the scenery and waving hello to any of the villagers that you'd greet. You also just love getting lost in your thoughts.

"Hey, uh, Y/N!"

You jump at the sound of a rough, male voice calling your name. You turn around and see Kent walking towards you. He doesn't seem as cold as he was when you first met him. As such, you got a better look at the older man now that you weren't frozen under his gaze.

He looked like an older, more handsome and rugged version of Sam. Also more muscular too, at least from what you could tell despite the clothes.

"H-Hi," you still can't help but be shy around him.

"Look...I'm sorry about our first meeting. I noticed you were kinda shaken up after it," he rubs the back of his neck, clearly feeling a bit guilty about it.

"It's okay. You didn't know me. You just wanted to eat and sleep I imagine, right?"

"Yeah," he nods and sighs. "Still, why don't we start over, clean slate."

He holds his large hand out for you to shake once more. You smile sheepishly, and take it.

"Clean slate," you agreed.

--------------------

Clean slate was right. After that day, everything in your world went back to normal. You got to babysit Vincent again, and you felt welcomed to hang out and eat supper at Sam's place too.

However, you quickly noticed that things were a bit rocky in his world. He would talk about how he was happy to have his dad back, but noticed that he seemed so standoffish, Vincent would even complain that he didn't play with him anymore. Jodi never spoke on the matter, but you assumed that she understood the seriousness on the matter. You certainly did.

Before moving to Stardew Valley, you had a huge interest in psychology, taking classes in both high school and college. You even had plans of becoming a psychologist. Funny how those plans changed.

The point is, you had an idea what Kent was going through. Being a soldier certainly wasn't easy. You had no doubts in your mind that he had seen and done things most couldn't even bear.

Whenever you would walk around town, you'd notice that he would stand under trees a lot, all by himself and deep in thought. Sure, he'd smile and wave at you when you'd pass by, but you knew that there was a disturbance inside his head. You wondered if he wanted someone to talk to. Then again, you didn't want to be pushy. Besides, you were just a family friend that he was only starting to get to know. There was only one way to find out.

Asking him.

You timed your walk perfectly with Kent heading out to stand under the tree just North of his home. He was a bit suspicious, considering you would usually take your walk later, but maybe you just felt like taking it sooner.

"Afternoon, Y/N," he greeted and continued on his way.

"Hey, Kent," you chirped.

"You're taking your walk early."

"Yeah, I didn't have much to do today. Why sit inside waiting for the clock to strike when you can just do it now, right?"

"I guess," he tenses up a bit when he notices you aren't breaking away from him like usual. Maybe you were just in a friendly mood. "So, uh, how's the farm coming?"

"Oh, it's going great! You should've seen it before I cleaned it up. You wouldn't even recognize it.

"Maybe...this town hasn't changed much since I left."

His jaw is tight and he clearly is starting to get lost in thought. Now was your chance.

"Are you okay?" you ask.

"I'm fine," he says quickly.

Alright, that didn't give you much to work with.

"Do you...do you want me to leave you alone?" you clearly aren't buying his words.

Kent sighs, deeply.

"Y/N, listen, don't you have something better to do than waste time following me around?"

Resistance, that was to be expected. Still, you would try one more time. If he continued to push you away, then that would be it. You would leave him alone.

"I know you're not fine, Kent. I can't imagine what you're going through, but I just want you to know that I'll listen to you if you need me to. But if you want me to leave you alone, then I will."

He stares at you intensely. He's both analyzing your words, and deciding if he wants to talk. You continue to look up at him, patience evident on your face. Eventually, he takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

"You like listening to other people's problems?"

"I like being there for people if they want me to, however they want me to. So, if you want me to leave, I will."

"Heh, a farmer, a babysitter, and a shrink. Is there anything else you can do that I don't know about?" he really doesn't want to give you a straightforward answer. Unfortunately for him, you were more stubborn than you let on. At your lack of backing down, he just looks away from you.

"It just doesn't feel right....Like I can't go back to normal no matter how hard I try. I'm happy to be home...but I hate that I can't just go back to who I was before...," he trails off.

Well that's shocking. You were really expecting him to tell you to "fuck off". Still, you'll take it.

"Have you tried talking to someone about this? Jodi?" you push a bit, seeing how responsive he'll be. Luckily, he replies to your question.

"No one here gets it, so why should I? Besides, Jodi just wants to pretend that everything is still great, so why should I ruin that? Hell, why am I even telling you this, anyways?" he runs a hand through his hair, frustration evident at the matter.

"Only you know the answer to that, Kent. I'm not gonna tell you what you should and shouldn't do, or how you should feel," you hesitantly hold your hand up to touch his arm." I'm just here if you want someone to just listen to you."

You're both silent now. Neither of you know what you want to say. Still, your hand is resting reassuringly on his arm, which he doesn't shove off. Finally, the older man sighs.

"Look, just...," he thinks about what he wants to say. "Just know that you don't have to waste your time listening to me, okay."

You give him a sympathetic smile.

"It's not wasting my time, if I'm just doing what I wanna do," you squeeze his arm gently before letting it go. "I just want to be there for you, Kent. Just like with Sam, and Jodi, and Vincent....And I'll do it however you all want me to."

He glances at you, before giving you a shadow of a smile.

"You're too nice of a person. You know that, Y/N?"

"So I've been told," you giggle.

--------------------

'You were just being nice,' you thought. It seems like those five words had become your mantra ever since that day.

You were just being nice while you listened to Kent open up about whatever he felt comfortable with telling you.

You were just being nice when you would reassuringly touch his arm and speak so sweetly to him.

You were just being nice when you would give him gifts he loved, while the rest of his family would only get gifts that they liked.

And it was just a coincidence that you started wearing more dresses now, because he would always compliment you when you wore them.

Everything even got to the point where Kent would visit you at your farm to help move things that were too heavy for you, when you had complained about whatever you were having trouble with. You didn't want him to strain himself, but he insisted. He said it was because he was repaying you for always being there for his family.

So yes, you were just being nice when you would watch him move objects around, always wearing a white tank top that showed off his arms, or even forfeiting the shirt entirely.

You were just being nice, because you were just making sure he didn't pass out from heat stroke, hence why you gave him towels, ice cold lemonade, or even offered your shower to him.

This wasn't because you desired the older man. No, of course not. How could you? He was not only married with a family, but you were friends with his family. Sure he was attractive, and sure he cared about you, but you'd never pursue anything with him. You weren't a homewrecker.

You weren't. Even when your brain would betray you and make you dream about Kent in situations that ranged from wholesome, with him kissing you while standing under one of the many trees he stood under, to down right pornographic with him pinning you down to any surface and fucking your brains out. Nope, you couldn't be into him. Even when you would wake up from those dreams with butterflies in your stomach or damp panties.

No. You couldn't. After all, would you really be into him if a cold shower washed those thoughts away? Would you really be into him if you still hung out with him and his family? Of course not.

You were just being nice.

Well, that was until one wet dream you had one night.

'You were babysitting Vincent like always. You were helping him study for a science test he had that Friday. You supposed you could add tutor to that list of farmer, babysitter, and shrink.

Suddenly, both Jodi and Kent entered the home. The boy at your side got up from your spot on the floor and ran into his mother's arms. She said that he had a doctor's appointment, which was odd because you could've sworn Vincent's doctor's appointment had passed. Still, they both left, leaving you and the older man alone in the home.

He walked into the dinning room, and called for you to follow him. You did what you were told, only to have his hand wrapped around your throat. You could still breathe, but it didn't stop you from jumping.

Kent now had you pinned up against the dining room table, calling you a "dirty homewrecker" and a "filthy whore", and with his hand under the skirt of your dress.

The next thing you knew, you were bent over the table, your skirt flipped up and your panties ripped off, all while the older man behind you used your body like you were nothing but a sex doll.

Fuck, it felt amazing. You had never had your body used like that before, but you were already addicted to it. Especially as you felt your orgasm coming closer...and closer...and....'

You woke up, panties completely soaked and your pussy craving attention. It was at that moment in your lust filled mind that you thought one thing: fuck it.

No cold shower was gonna take care of this, and you decided that you were done lying to yourself. You were done with being nice all the time. You wanted Kent, and you didn't give a fuck about his wife and sons.

So, you slipped your hand down your body and underneath the waistband of your pajama shorts and panties.

--------------------

Little did you know that Kent wasn't exactly having the most platonic thoughts about you, either. Though it did take him a bit longer than you for him to have his own "fuck it" moment.

You were so beautiful, attentive, sweet, almost innocent in his eyes. And as such, he also just assumed that all of the actions you had done for him, was just you being nice.

That's why he would go over to your farm to help you. He was just repaying your kindness. He was just being nice.

He didn't want you. No, how could he? He loved his wife, he had a family. And you? Innocent, sweet little you? You couldn't have wanted him. You were a good girl, not a homewrecker. No, he didn't desire you at all.

Even when his brain betrayed him by playing dreams of you as his little wife instead. Coming home to you, loving you, taking you out on dates. Nope, that longing feeling he felt after waking up from these dreams was something else.

After all, would he really be into you if a cold shower washed those thoughts away, or if he could still look you or his family in the eye. Of course not.

You were just being nice.

That was until he had his own wet dream about you.

'He was sitting in a field with you, which was odd considering how open fields make him uncomfortable, but you looking at him so lovingly seemed to make him forget that.

Something he noticed was that you were wearing a dress, as you seem to be wearing dresses a lot nowadays, except this one left little to the imagination. The skirt hardly covered your ass, and the top put your cleavage on full display. You, however, seemed completely unaware of your revealing outfit.

The next thing Kent knew, your dress was off, and apparently you weren't wearing a bra or panties underneath. He was also hovering above you, with his hand wrapped around your throat. Despite this, you were looking up at him, completely blissed out. As if this dream couldn't get any better, you let out the most adorable moans while he fucked you.

What started off with what could've been interpreted at "love making" quickly transformed into something more primal. And he loved it. Especially as his orgasm got closer...and closer...and....'

He woke up, except unlike you, he woke up in the middle of the night, with his wife peacefully sleeping beside him. He couldn't take a cold shower, and he couldn't go back to sleep now that he was almost painfully hard. There was only one thing he could do.

'Fuck it,' he thought, before getting up to head to the bathroom, after making sure everyone in the house was asleep.

-------------------

Neither of you made a move. How could you? You didn't know if Kent desired you, and he didn't know if you desired him. Besides, there was the whole, oh, you know, married with a family issue. Still, that didn't stop you from wanting to be a bit subtle on the matter, now wearing dresses that had shorter skirts or emphasized your cleavage, and touching him a bit more.

Everything didn't come to a halt though, until you had asked him to come over whenever he could to help move something heavy. Apparently, that meant Kent coming over on what felt like the hottest day of the summer. As such, you decided to set up your sprinkler in case he needed to cool down while he worked. Oh yeah, and so you had an excuse to run around in your bathing suit in front of him.

When he saw you, he was taken aback by seeing more of you than he was used to, even looking away to focus on the task at hand. That clearly didn't last long, as you felt his eyes back on you while you bent over a bit to splash the cool water from the sprinkler onto your face.

"Alright, move over. I need to cool down more than you," the older man jests.

You look up at him and smirk, moving aside.

"Go ahead."

Kent stands and sighs, as droplets of water fall unto him. While he's distracted, you grab the sprinkler and hold it towards him, causing him to get hit in the face with a rush of water. You place it back down and laugh at his startled reaction. Unfortunately, this gave him enough time to replicate what you did to him.

"Eek! Kent, stop!" you squeal out, trying to shield your body from the sprinkler's cold blasts.

"Nope! Not until you say you're sorry," he playfully sneers.

"Ah! Okay! Okay, I'm sorry!" at that, he puts the sprinkler back onto the grass. "Truce?"

You hold out your hand, which he shakes.

"Truce."

"I'm sorry about making you come out here. Especially on the hottest day of the summer," you do feel a bit guilty about the whole thing, despite flaunting your body in your bathing suit.

"You know I don't mind. I'm always happy to help you out."

"I know...," you begin, deciding to make a move now. You make your way closer to Kent before giving him your best "bedroom eyes". "I just wish there was something I could do to repay you."

You drag your fingertips up his arm, which causes him to tense up. His eyes widen at your actions, and he backs up from you.

'Oh, shit.'

You quickly drop your hand to your side. Your face begins to heat up with embarrassment and shame. You try to get out an apology, but all that comes out are stuttered phrases.

"...I see," Kent grabs his jacket and walks out of your backyard. All you can do is just stand there, humiliated.

You raise your hands up to your face and take a deep breath, ashamed of yourself.

'Oh, Yoba, what have I done?"

--------------------

After that event, you couldn't even look at yourself in the mirror. What was wrong with you? How could you do that? You tried to seduce a married man. A man who you were close with, and had a family you were close with. And now he knew just what a horrible person you were. Hell, it felt like everyone in Pelican Town knew, despite them not treating you any differently. In fact, Jodi and Vincent still would greet you anytime they passed you, and Sam still would invite you out to drink with him and his friends. And every time, you had to put on a mask like you were still a good person, like you didn't try to destroy their family.

You also never saw Kent after that day, but you were purposely trying to ignore him. How could you face him? He seemed pretty pissed off at your actions, not wanting to associate with someone like you.

You were actually considering moving back home. What was once someplace you felt welcomed in, now felt suffocating. Everyone knew, they had to.

It was evening now, and you were doing everything you could to ignore your thoughts and how much of a miserable human being you were.

The sound of your phone ringing rips you from your task, and you almost feel like just letting the caller on the other end give up trying to reach you. Guilt pulls you to answer it though, because if you are going to try and feel less miserable about yourself, why ignore someone who may have needed you. So you answer, lifting the device up to your ear.

"H-Hello?"

"Y/N," the voice on the other end greets. You feel your blood run cold as you recognize who it is.

"Kent...wh-what can I do for you?" you swallow, nervously.

"Sorry that this seems short notice. I was gonna take Jodi out for drinks and Sam's off with his buddies somewhere. Do you mind watching Vincent for a bit?" he doesn't sound pissed off or tense, like you expected. That does melt your nerves a bit.

"Y-Yeah, sure. Um, I'll be over there in a bit."

"Good."

And just like that, the line goes dead. You take a deep breath. You were just going to watch Vincent, that was all. Maybe this was your road to redemption. Maybe your little stunt that hot day was going to become water under the bridge. So after composing yourself, you head on over to the home you had been avoiding.

--------------------

It seems like the distance between your farm and Sam's place had gotten shorter during your trek. You actually just stare at his front door wondering if you should just turn around and head back. No, you had to try and reconstruct your shattered, good nature. Flaking on people who needed you was not going to help. So you knock on the door just as you used to.

Unfortunately, Kent greets you when the front door opens, though you didn't know if greeting Jodi would've been any better.

"Come in," he says, shortly.

You walk in and the older man closes the door behind you. You wait for Vincent to come greet you like he always does when you babysit, but you can't hear the sound of his footsteps getting rapidly closer, nor do you hear his voice. In fact, the whole house was quiet.

"Kent, where is everyone?" you ask, feeling nervous.

"Gone," he says, before walking into his kitchen.

"Wha-gone? What do you mean 'gone'?" you hesitantly follow him. He is leaning up against one of the counters, thinking.

"Jodi took the boys out for a little vacation. I stayed behind," he still doesn't look at you.

"I-I...why?" everything is beginning to feel weirdly dreamlike.

"Because we need to talk," his eyes finally fell on you. "And you haven't been giving me much of an opportunity."

"Sorry...," your voice is small, and you look down at your feet. As much as you don't want to face this talk, you know that getting it out of the way may make things better.

"'Sorry' is right. You pull that little stunt all those days ago, and then avoid me," wait what?

You look up and notice that Kent is much closer to you now. You freeze up a bit, but feel confused that he doesn't look angry with you.

"Tell me, sweetheart," he leans a bit closer to you. "Do you normally fool around with married men?"

The question takes you by surprise and your cheeks heat up.

"I-I...no," it's the only thing that comes to your mind, which now feels empty.

"Clearly," he holds your face so you are forced to look at him. "You have a bad habit of working me up, where people could see or hear us. Do you want everyone to know that we're fooling around, hm?"

You don't speak, still frozen and tense. Kent sighs, letting your face go and moving away from you.

"Of course...you don't want that anymore, do you?" he turns his back to you. "If you don't want to, then you're free to go."

"W-wait...y-you...?" you let out a frustrated sigh, trying to compose yourself and ask what you wanted to ask. "You mean...you weren't mad at me."

"Of course not. I was just surprised and needed to think," he glances over his shoulder." Now, answer my question, Y/N: do you want this or not?"

Well, here you were. A crossroad. You could either try to rebuild your moral compass, or you damage it permanently. And you know what? The fog in your brain and the dampness that was forming in your panties was going to keep you from walking out that door. This was going to end in two ways: just getting a taste of what you've been dreaming about so you could move on, or becoming addicted to it entirely.

Kent's back is still to you, and a smirk forms on your face. You begin to remove your clothes as quietly as you could. You regret not not wearing a dress as it would've made this so much easier, but your guilty mind had sworn to not wear them anymore. Funny how that was going to change.

"You know what?" you drawl, waiting for the older man to turn back and look at you. He does, and a smirk forms on his own face as his eyes fall upon you, now only clothed in your bra and panties. "I don't think I'd mind fooling around a bit."

"Clearly," he makes his way back towards you, but this time he wraps one of his hands around your throat, squeezing it lightly. "Heh...and here I thought you were a good girl. Looks like I was wrong though, huh?"

You shamelessly whine at the feeling of him mildly choking you, reminding you of one of your many impure dreams about the older man.

"Yeah, you aren't a good girl at all," Kent's other hand wanders to your back, pulling you closer to him and undoing your bra. "You're just a filthy whore, right?"

You bite your lip, a nice quip for his comment forming in your mind.

"I'm your filthy whore," you correct, which causes the older man to chuckle darkly.

"Oh yeah?" he asks, which causes you to nod. "We'll see about that."

He suddenly lifts you up, causing you to wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You are carried to his bedroom. As if the situation couldn't get any more taboo, he was now going to fuck you on the same bed he shared with his wife.

Kent closes the door behind him out of habit. Not that he had to worry about anyone bursting into the room. In fact, he was surprised how natural he was with this considering he and Jodi have hardly fucked since he got back.

There was no time to think about that though. Especially as you sat down on the edge of his bed in only your panties now, your eyes full of curiosity at what he was going to do to you.

"The fuck you think you're doing," he growls, which both startles and turns you on. "You think I'm just gonna let a whore like you get comfortable, just like that?"

"N-No sir," you whimper.

Kent's eyes don't move from you, his gaze as hard as it was the night he first met you. Even as he slowly begins to undress, his glare is still unmoving. As soon as his torso is bare, your eyes wander, taking in all of his muscle and scars.

"Come here."

"Hm? Wha-?"

"I said 'come here'. Don't make me have to fucking repeat myself," he crosses his arms across his chest.

You waste no time making your way over to him, only to be shoved to your knees. You look up at the older man and your mouth waters at what'll happen next.

Kent's hands move to his belt, undoing it and pulling his pants and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free. Your eyes widen at his size, wondering if he'll even fit inside your pussy. Oh well, now's not the time to think about that, especially since you had a job to do.

"I take it I don't have to tell you what to do?" he asks.

You nod, taking his dick in your hands and jerking him off. You then begin to swirl your tongue around the tip, getting a feel for his length. Once you feel ready, you take the first few inches of his cock into your mouth, taking him as far as your gag reflexes would allow you.

Kent moves his hand to the back of your head, gripping your hair harshly. He tries to be nice and let you suck him off at your own pace, but impatience begins to consume him.

Eventually, he forces your head all the way down his dick, causing you to gag and for tears to form in the corners of your eyes. You ball your hands into fists and try to relax your throat, allowing the older man to fuck your mouth however he'd like.

And that's just what he does. He continues to use your mouth at a harsh pace, groaning with pleasure at such. Your panties are soaked, and you move one of your hands underneath the waistband to stroke your clit. Your moans add to the older man's satisfaction, and he looks down at you.

He loves what he sees. You with teary, half-lidded eyes, some saliva seeping from the corners of your mouth, and your hand touching yourself.

Suddenly, Kent pulls you off of his cock. While you're happy to have a breather and give your jaw a bit of a rest, you still feel disappointed that you aren't gonna feel him cum down your throat. As such, you remove your hand from your panties and look up at him confused.

"Don't let me stop you, sweetheart. In fact...," he pulls you up from the floor and moves you to the bed. Your panties are then ripped from your body, and the older man removes the rest of his clothes as well. "There... now why don't you continue playing with that pretty, little pussy of yours."

His words make you shiver and your wet hole to clench around nothing. You spread your legs and move your hand back to your cunt. You soak your fingers in your slick and go back to rubbing your clit. You tilt your head back , and breathy moans drip from your lips.

Kent takes in the sight of you. Despite wanting to fuck you right then and there, he still wanted to enjoy a bit of a show, especially as your moans grew louder. While you are distracted, he moves to his bedside table and rummages for a condom in the drawer. It's nice that they are finally going to get some use, now.

He moves back to you and grabs your hand, halting your motion. You whine in frustration, as you were on the verge of your release, but get cut off as you are flipped onto your stomach.

"On all fours. Now," he growls.

You waste no time getting onto your hands and knees, and feel the bed dip behind you. Kent gets into position, before ripping open the condom's packaging and rolling it onto his dick. He then lines himself up with your pussy, before pushing into you.

You cry out at the feeling of being stretched out and drop onto your forearms. The older man barely gives you time to adjust to his size before setting a harsh pace. You had never felt such an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure in your life. Needy, high pitched moans leave your mouth at his cock thrusting in and out of you.

"Yeah? You like that, huh? You like getting fucked by married men?" he growls into your ear after leaning down so that his chest was to your back, still not halting his pace.

You try to respond, but it feels like the tip of his dick is hitting your cervix, which scrambles your sentences into sobs of pleasure.

"Of course-fuck! Of course, a dirty, little homewrecker like you does," he moans, while wrapping his hand around your neck once more.

Despite his degrading words, Kent is enjoying this as well. As horrible as it sounds, he does love the feeling of your tighter, younger pussy when comparing it to his wife's. Scratch that, he just preferred everything about you when compared to Jodi.

You listened to him, you were there for him, instead of just pretending that everything was okay. It could've helped that you never knew him before his deployment, or it could've been that you tackled things that were wrong instead of ignoring it.

At the moment though, he doesn't care. He'll think about it later, right now he has a job to do. Right now, your pretty, little cunt was tightening around him and your moans were now screams. You were going to cum, and he would let you, but not that easily.

Kent slows his pace and his thrusts become shallow. The sudden change causes you to whine in a combination of confusion and frustration.

"Aw, what? Did you really think I'd let a whore like you cum?" he chuckles cruelly at your desperate whimpers.

"K-Kent...please," you even try to push your hips back, but he tightens his hold on your neck, stopping you.

"Tell me, sweetheart. Why should I let you cum, hm?" he didn't expect you to give him a good answer. In fact, he didn't even care what you told him. He just wanted to hear you beg.

"P-Please, I-I'll do anything! Please!" you feel tears beginning to flow down your cheeks. After keeping you from cumming once, you didn't want him to deny you a second time.

"Aw, you're that desperate to cum, huh?" his faux sympathy makes you nod. "Hm, alright...I guess I'll be nice."

His pace changes to the harsh speed it was before, pulling a surprised moan from you. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, and you cum harder than you have ever had.

The feeling around his cock, makes Kent spill his own release into the condom. He wishes he didn't have to use it, but he knew the consequences if he didn't, and you both were already doing something that would have serious consequences if found out.

He pulls out of you, and your body goes limp. You are blissed out of your mind, and the bed underneath you feels comfortable. The older man decides to take the time to dispose of the condom, as well as look for any other potential evidence of his affair that would need to be taken care of.

He then returns back to the bedroom, lays down next to you, and starts petting your hair. It's gentle, which seems odd after he roughly fucked you, but you certainly weren't going to complain. You move to face him, and give him a dazed smile.

Kent smirks at your reaction, shifting his hand from your hair to your cheek, thinking while he stroked it.

"You need anything?" he breaks the pleasant silence. You just shake your head, and pull him closer.

You could stay the night. Jodi and the boys weren't going to be back until tomorrow night, which was fine by the both of you.

Unfortunately for you and Kent, this wasn't going to be a one time thing. You both were addicted to each other now, which meant that this could get dangerous. Not that either of you cared though. You both were going to enjoy each other no matter how this fucked up fairy tale ended.

#stardew valley #stardew valley x reader #sdv kent #sdv kent x fem!reader #sdv kent x reader #x reader #rita writes

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eywamygoddesswrites · 1 year

Text

— 𝓷𝓮𝔀 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷, 𝓼𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼 — (lo'ak x gn!reader, lo'ak x tsireya)

pairing: lo'ak x gn!omatikaya!reader , lo'ak x tsireya

tags: angst, toxic, make-ups and break-ups,

warnings: lowercase intended, toxic relationship, anger, swearing, self-sabotage, mentions of becoming mates, y/n is just toxic as hell

a/n: characters are aged up! the theme of this fic will be heavy and for anyone who is going through something, please PLEASE don't read this as it might worsen your state. you are loved, you are heard, and you are not alone.

i also don't do character x character as a request but if it deems needed for the story, i will do said trope

word count: 1.5k

+ gif not mine. ctto.

lo'ak and y/n have this complicated relationship with one another. on one hand, it can be seen as teenage love growing into something more and something special as they age. but on the other hand, it can also be seen as something toxic where teens don't know what the fuck they got themselves into and ate more than they can chew.

it was the type of relationship where they got together on and off. lo'ak had always let his emotions get the best of him and always had his insecurities take over him whenever he saw y/n interact with other na'vi's. y/n was no different from lo'ak. they were toxic in a way where they gaslight lo'ak and made him dependable on them.

even with this toxicity between the two, they somehow worked even when they shouldn't.

after years of the constant cycle of making up and breaking up, sky people came back and attacked the forest, leaving the omatikaya vulnerable to another war.

y/n was one of the injured during the attack and was currently being treated in mo’at’s tent. while being treated, they heard the toruk makto’s voice boom at his sons, causing y/n to snort at how this cycle between the father and sons never changed. “like father, like son.” they said to no one in particular.

neteyam came into the tent with kiri, cuts, and bruises were seen on his figure. y/n stood up from where they sat and thank the tsahik before leaving the tent. too many sully’s in one place just makes the na’vi gag.

right in front of the tent stood lo’ak, shocked painting his face on the figure of their lover- if he can call them his lover at this point. “what the hell happened to you? you should’ve gone somewhere safe you skxawng.” lo’ak scoffs and began checking if y/n had other marks that his grandmother wasn’t able to see but y/n shoves him away before he could.

“somewhere safe?!?” y/n looked at lo’ak like he was the dumbest of the dumb in pandora. “i had to help my little sister find a place to be safe in but we were ATTACKED in the process! i’m ‘sorry’ if i wanted my only living family SAFE from the shit your family brought to this place!” they hissed at lo’ak before leaving the na’vi seething in anger. he followed them and grabbed their arm with force, most likely leaving a bruise the following day.

“it’s not my dad’s fault these demons come back because of their selfishness. but don’t you fucking dare blame me and my whole family for this. we protect the people just as the rest of you.” he hissed at the angry na’vi before shoving them away.

y/n stares at lo’ak with anger and hate. “i should’ve never given a freak like you a chance in love. you don’t DESERVE an ounce.” with this, y/n left lo’ak standing on his self-hatred.

of course, he doesn’t. he knows that already. they didn’t have to reinforce and shove it on his face. “whole ass bitch.” he mutters before going back to his siblings.

before the sully’s ride their ikran to leave the forest, the omatikaya watches the family that protected their homes for so long. it was a sad event but it must be done in order to secure the majority’s safety.

y/n watched from afar, glad that this family will leave after so many years. they broke up with lo’ak a day before and ensured the na’vi that they will never get back together after this.

“find your own mate that will put up with your shitty attitude.” y/n says before turning their back on lo’ak.

“i hope no one gives you a chance for your bitch attitude! no na’vi should go through your toxicity!” lo’ak shouted at the figure leaving him before he started punching the nearest tree, not minding the pain he was feeling.

just as lo’ak mounted his ikran, his gaze going up and meeting with y/n’s gaze. he narrowed his eyes before taking off behind neteyam and kiri.

being welcomed by the metkayina was something the sully’s should work for and for safety, they should comply. even after they were seen as demons by the tsahik, they will do what needs to be done.

lo’ak couldn’t focus on their training to breath underwater because of what happened a few days ago. the break up was fresh in his mind and despite feeling pain, he mostly felt anger towards y’n. he didn’t do anything to them so why was he treated that way? it was their fault their life was shit. it was their fault their parents are dead. it was their faul—

“lo’ak? are you still with us?” tsireya’s soft voice took him out of his thoughts. her round eyes looking at him with concern, no malice seen. lo’ak shook his head before swimming back to shore. “i’m not feeling well. i’ll go back to the mauri.” he simply said, not waiting for any replies from the rest.

he didn’t go to their mauri, instead walking aimlessly as he kicks the sand out of anger. he aimed his feelings toward y/n despite the na’vi not being present in any way.

he settled by a big rock and lay on the of it, watching the sunset. “what did i do wrong?” he covers his eyes with his arm and sighs heavily.

a few minutes passed before he hears footsteps coming closer. he looks up to see tsireya. he couldn’t deny that he saw her as a pretty na’vi. wait, no, no, y/n will get angry- wait… y/n is not here. he can see anyone as pretty without being tormented on and feeling guilty for thinking such.

tsireya sat beside him, looking beyond the glimmering ocean. the eclipse has set before them as stars showed in the sky.

“what’s troubling you, lo’ak?” tsireya asks before looking at lo’ak. the forest na’vi’s eyes trembled as he remembers his time with his ex. maybe it was actually his fault that y/n treated him that way. if only he was more obedient then maybe y/n was with him to this day. why should he ruin everything he has in his life–

“lo’ak.” tsireya’s voice removed him from his thoughts once again. lo’ak finally looked at tsireya and felt his tears fall down his face. her features soften as she pulled him into a hug he had been longing for a while. she whispered sweet nothings to his ear as she runs her hand through his braids. no sound left his mouth but the tears that ran down his face speaks many stories.

maybe… maybe he has a new opportunity with tsireya. maybe this might be a new chance that eywa has given him.

after months and months of comfort and courting, lo’ak can proudly call tsireya his girlfriend. his sun. his love. tsireya knew of what he had gone through back in the forest and she made it her priority to help him heal from his past. she just hopes he fully lets her in his heart.

the first few months of the two being official, it was bliss. lo’ak felt like he could die a happy man just to keep this comfort. he didn’t want the happiness to fade if they do continue on.

the longer the two stayed together, the more his toxicity seeped out of the damn he had built. the same where he would constantly ask tsireya who were the guys she talked with, the same where he would keep her from doing her tasks as the next tsahik, and the same where he would limit and forbid tsireya from meeting anyone else.

at first, tsireya didn’t mind. maybe lo’ak was just cautious because of his previous relationship? don’t worry! she understands and will comply with his wishes. but the more time passed and his actions worsened, she thought, ‘maybe it’s something with me.’ don’t worry! i’ll just slowly pull away from my friends and spend more time with lo’ak to ease his mind.

ao’nung, neteyam, and kiri saw this and began to worry. ao’nung could see that his sister was beginning to be skittish around him and his friends. he missed hanging out with her and for her to spend time with lo’ak is just laughable. neteyam and kiri on the other hand can see that the cycle of y/n and lo’ak began to show in his new relationship with tsireya.

after neteyam’s death, everything just fell apart. lo’ak was worse than he was before they came to the reef.

his relationship with tsireya disintegrated as they broke up and made up. although, he didn’t want to let her go because who will understand him? only she can and he doesn’t care if they break up. they can easily fix it and get back together.

tsireya, oh poor tsireya, she couldn’t just leave him. it’s unfair to him and he was the first na’vi she truly loved. of course, she will accept him no matter how many times they break up. maybe if they mated, he will fully change his ways and learn to love her without having to separate.

feels like a brand new person (but you’ll make the same old mistakes)

i don’t care, i’m in love (stop before it’s too late)

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eddie-sweetheart · 2 years

Text

🏕 Camp Lovers Lake - Chapter Six 🏕

An Eddie Munson x Female Reader summer camp story. Set just before the beginning of season 3 of Stranger Things, with a few diversions from the original plot of the series.

🏕 Chapters List

Pairing and tropes • Eddie Munson x Henderson Female Reader - fluff, forced proximity, slightly slow burn, summer camp clichés ♥︎

Summary • June, 1985. Close to the city of Hawkins, Indiana, the placid waters of Lovers Lake stand as the perfect background for the homonymous summer camp, where you’re about to be a counselor for the last time before senior year and then, hopefully, college. Your brother Dustin Henderson won’t be with you this year, as he’s chosen to attend Camp Know Where until July - but with your best friend Robin Buckley at your side and the unexpected addition of Steve Harrington to your duo, the upcoming months seem to promise endless fun and exciting adventures nonetheless. However, as you get closer to Eddie Munson, resident metalhead and drug dealer who’s been forced by his uncle to work at Camp Lovers Lake after another missed graduation, your plans for the summer might have to go in an unexpected direction.

Warnings • Cursing, possible mentions and/or depictions of violence, sexually suggestive language. Having no idea where this is going myself, you’ll need to be 18+ to read this fic just in case! In this chapter you'll also find veeery slight mentions of fake rape allegations and animal cruelty (nothing major I absolutely swear - it's just gossip - but I'll put them here anyways).

Chapter notes • Sorry for the long wait, but here we are! This one is more interaction-focused and it's quite long (lots of thoughts in here), but I hope you like it! I can't wait for the next chapters to come! Hope it makes sense so far :)

Chapter word count: 7.7+ k

🌹 Masterlist 🌹

The quest does, in fact, continue.

The thunderstorm and heavy rain that forcefully took over the treasure hunt doesn’t stop - on the contrary, it keeps coming undeterred the following day, the incessant downpour causing all plans and activities to be canceled as everyone reunites in the Headquarters with a cleared schedule and the special concession from the directing staff to occupy the long hours of the rainy day as each one prefers.

Most of the campers and counselors decide to go back to the games they took out last night and are now moving tiny pawns with chipped paint on faded Monopoly boards or shuffling old card decks before starting yet another rummy game. Others prefer to read or listen to music, getting lost in fictional worlds or occasionally sharing their headphones with a friend. Some younger kids are drawing and filling out with bright crayons the last few untouched pages of some coloring books. Back in the corner of the large main room, Jason Carver and his friends, Patrick included, are fruitlessly killing time by throwing a basketball into the air and joking about random topics that, according to the loud, saccharine laughs coming from Jenna, Tammy and a few other girls in their group, must be peak comedy.

In other circumstances, you might let the temptation to eavesdrop win over your good sense, even if you know that their conversations must be as funny as casual, misogynistic jokes can be; however, right now their babble, mixed with the rest of the chatter and the pattering of the heavy rain on the windows and walls of the Headquarters is nothing but a background noise whose words and sentences you have no intention to decipher: all your attention, as well as that of your friends, is indeed all caught up in Eddie’s D&D campaign.

With the story unveiling and becoming more interesting by the minute, especially thanks to Eddie’s storytelling skills and immersive recounting of your characters’ deeds, anything else is pushed to the back of your mind, and it’s a feeling that’s shared by the rest of your group: everyone, even Steve and Robin, has fallen under the spell of the fantasy game, the role-playing becoming more and more natural as you go along your imaginary adventure. You cross dangerous rivers, spend the night in the forest, investigate mysterious footprints in the mud, the storm raging outside becoming part of the story at some point - all in the span of a single day at Camp Lovers Lake.

Most of the magic happens because of Eddie. As a Dungeon Master, he reveals a new side of him that you weren’t expecting: he lets his creativity and imagination run wild, following the plot he prepared in his cabin at night, in the dim glow of his flashlight - but he’s quick to adapt the story to the party’s decisions and choices, creating new scenarios and letting the adventure flow with his melodious tone and theatrical gestures, guiding you through the rules and dice throws without influencing your decisions and your interpretations of the characters. You are all wrapped around his finger, hanging to his every word and revelation, gasping when a treasure is found in the secret compartment of a marble column or cursing when a troll or goblin manages to hit you during a fight.

And that’s actually what is happening right now: an angry goblin has just hit you with his rusty sword, and you’re left with just a few hit points - and now it’s your turn to choose what to do next.

“Use the healing potion!” Gareth excitedly suggests, the pencil in his hand drumming rapidly on his character sheet. “You can get some points back and keep fighting for a while”.

You’re tempted to follow his hint, especially because he’s a seasoned player and this is just your first campaign; however, as you stare at the menacing d20 die lingering in the middle of the wooden table, another idea pops into your mind.

“If I hit him and kill him” you tentatively say, your eyes rising to meet Robin’s across the table, “only the hobgoblin is left. He might attack me as then I’ll be closer to him than any of you on the map, but as he moves to do that Robin can perform an opportunity attack and tear him apart”.

You don’t know if that makes any sense - you’re not even sure that the opportunity attack works this way, but it definitely seems more reasonable to you than gulping down a healing potion whose effect will completely wear out with the next hit you receive. If there’s a chance of winning this battle, this is it, you think.

“That might work” Jeff observes as he checks out the squared sheet of paper on which seven pebbles indicate the positions of your adventurers and the two NPCs on the map.

“Yes, but if the hobgoblin harms her, she’s as well as dead” Gareth insists, and you’re glad to understand that he’s choosing the safe option because he doesn’t want you to stop playing.

“We will all be, if we don’t finish him quickly” Steve chips in, “in my experience, the sooner you face the fucker, the better. No use in procrastinating the inevitable”.

Robin swiftly turns towards him. “In your experience?” she jokes, barely managing to hold in a laugh, “what are you, a professional monster hunter?”

As you grab the die and start weighing it in your hand, you notice a weird look appearing on Steve’s face - almost as if he’s realized he has just said something that should have stayed a secret. But it goes away so quickly that you come to the conclusion that you’ve probably just imagined it.

“Movies, duh” Steve replies, glaring at Robin, “you know what I’m talking about”.

Robin shrugs. “If you say so” she states, before turning back to you. “So, y/n, what are you going to do? Time is running out here”.

Your gaze spontaneously falls on Eddie, as you feel the need for his advice even if your choice is already almost completely clear in your head. However, he doesn’t take an explicit position: his upside-down smile lets you know that this is something that you need no help with.

“Your choice, princess” he declares, the rings on his fingers glittering in the light of the ceiling lamp as he spreads his hands in a bestowing gesture.

You look up at him, moving your eyes back and forth between his encouraging look and the d20 in your hand.

“You can do this” Eddie adds in a light whisper, meant only for you to hear. His voice unexpectedly sends shivers running down your spine, and as a low thunder rumbles outside in the distance, you make your final decision.

“I’m rolling to attack” you announce, shaking the die in your closed fist before letting it fall on the table.

“Shit” Gareth hisses, his hands nervously grabbing his own hair as he and everyone else lean closer to the table, their eyes fixed on the rolling die. Even Eddie is staring, his lower lip caught between his teeth as the tiny piece of plastic moves across the wooden surface in an endless spin, until…

“18” you sigh with relief, soon echoed by everyone else’s cheering. “Please, tell me that’s enough” You ask Eddie with pleading eyes, the shadow of a hopeful smile already appearing on your lips.

Eddie lifts his eyebrows and grins as he starts speaking.

“You all see princess Eowyn moving towards the goblin, raising her longsword above her head in a last effort of collected strength. She aims at the head of the creature and with one swift gesture…” he pauses for suspense, basking in the expectant looks of five pairs of eyes stuck on him. “She swings her weapon and hits the goblin, taking him out in one single motion” he concludes solemnly, moving one of the pebbles beyond the edge of the map and away from your fighting field.

Everyone exults, and you relax in your chair. Don’t even need to throw the damage dice this time, because your strategy was definitely worth it: as you suspected, the goblin was on his last hit point, so all you need to do now is see what comes next.

And, unsurprisingly, the final part of the fight happens exactly as you predicted: with your character losing consciousness at the hands of the hobgoblin, who attacks you only to be immediately slain by a critical hit rolled by Robin.

The atmosphere at the table is ecstatic as everyone cheers your best friend, Eddie included. With this final fight, the short campaign he planned has already come to an end, but he’s filled with proud happiness at the sight of your party’s enthusiasm during the game.

You catch his barely repressed smile as he collects all his notes into his black binder, everyone else’s chatter and comments about the adventure still echoing around the table, and something warms up inside you. It’s something that you can’t quite place a name on yet, but that it’s getting more and more frequent every day, and any time you meet Eddie’s chocolate eyes, or every time he casually brushes against you for trivial reasons - passing through a door at the same time, your legs accidentally bumping into each other when you sit down on the steps of your cabin’s front porch at sunset, or when he hands you something across the table and your fingers lightly touch by mistake.

It’s a different feeling from what you’ve felt with Patrick before. With him, it was all tingles mixed with nervousness and expectations and the thrill of the first time; with Eddie it’s a swarm of butterflies that fills you whole, fluttering inside you until you feel it drawing you towards him, almost physically at times. It’s as if the more time you spend with him and knowing him, the more you feel a thread connecting him to you, an invisible but altogether tangible line that ties you together whether it’s either across a table or across a room.

And you feel it now, too, right in the heart of the Headquarters on an incessantly rainy evening - but you’re prevented from exploring its possible meanings any further, as Eddie himself turns towards you and snaps his fingers in front of your face, the metal of his rings clanging as he brings you back to the present moment, away from your thoughts.

“Heart to y/n” he almost sings, his smile growing warmer as he addresses you, “are you still lost in our adventure?”

You chuckle embarrassedly. “Yeah, you could say so” you decide to reply, hiding your actual thoughts with a shrug, “that was an amazing one, really - I can’t wait to tell Dustin about it, he’ll be thrilled. Thank you for letting us try the game, sir Dungeon Master” you add, mimicking a royal bow as you get up to head towards the food counters, as dinner has just been announced.

Eddie’s cheeks turn slightly pinker and his smile shines brighter as he stands up as well and follows you, leaving the others at the table for now. No one seems to notice you leaving as they’re still caught up in their chatter - except Robin, who throws you a curious glance while she keeps talking to Gareth.

“My pleasure, princess” Eddie replies, his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans as he leans down towards you while you stand in the already long line that has formed at the side of the room. “You’ve played one hell of a game for a first-timer. Slayed all the monsters like pieces of cake, huh?”

You shrug again, with genuine modesty this time. “Robin did most of it” you reply, nodding towards your table, “killed that final boss with a natural 20 like she was born to play D&D”.

“Sure, she did” Eddie agrees approvingly, “but your strategy? Maaaan, that was a pro move” he exclaims, accompanying the dragging tone of his voice with a theatrical hand movement.

“N need to flatter me, Munson” you chuckle, slightly elbowing him in the side, “but I’m glad you approved of my choice”.

Eddie smiles wide, his fingers lingering on the spot on his body where you’ve just touched him. Then, dinner is served.

— 🏕 —

Finally, after a day and a half of pouring, unstopping rain and loud thunders, the following morning welcomes you with a bright blue sky and a crisp summer breeze, not a single cloud to be seen on the horizon.

Birds are singing again, flying out in the open from the safety of their nests among the tree branches, flowers glimmer in full color in the dewy green grass, and even if the ground is still wet and splashes of mud are scattered here and here all over camp, the warm sun rays and fresh air are the perfect excuse for spending the whole day outside.

All the camp activities are restored and, following a shared agreement from the whole staff, the vast majority of them will be held outside to make up for the previous day of lockdown.

A painting station is set up on the Headquarters’ porch, where Steve and some younger kids are spending the morning recreating the colors and shapes of leaves and flowers; Robin is stuck on the lake shores, overlooking a definitely unsuccessful fishing session; you, instead, have found yourself paired with Eddie as you are both in charge of directing a group of overexcited kids through some rounds of a capture-the-flag game.

With a lot of effort, mostly due to the need to navigate through established friendships and preferences, you’ve managed to let the kids split and line up in two more or less orderly rows, one in front of the other. Right at the end of the two rows, staring into each other’s eyes with a challenging smirk as the contagious competitive spirit of the campers is slowly and inexorably starting to affect you both, you stand as captain of Team Red, while Eddie is leading Team Blue.

Between the two of you, pinned loosely on a wooden stick, is the so-called flag: a white cotton square, flapping lazily in the soft breeze.

“Alright, Team Red and Blue” you begin, grabbing the attention of the giddy kids with a clap of your hands. “The rules are easy. Each one of you is a number; starting from Tim here, we are counting one to ten” you say, patting lightly on the head a grinning Tim, whose stay at camp has substantially improved after Jason’s brother has been moved away from his cabin. “Keep your number in mind - because, once we call it, you and the kid with the same number from the opposite team will have to compete for the flag. The first who brings it back to their place in the row scores one point for the team” you conclude, nodding towards the wooden stick and catching a glimpse of Eddie’s very smug smile.

“Is everything clear?” He asks the kids, crossing his tattooed arms across his camp t-shirt as he eyes with particular intention the slightly frightened kids of his team, “I want to see you fight for that flag, army-crawling your way to it if necess-“

“Without hurting yourselves, that is” you interrupt him, nudging him intently as you throw your brightest and most reassuring grin to the petrified row of kids with blue stripes painted on their cheeks. “It’s important that we all have a good time, alright?”.

While the still unconvinced campers start getting ready and focused, Eddie leans towards you with a look of complicity. “Party pooper” he whispers in your ear, but you can feel the smile in his joking tone as his breath tickles the side of your neck.

“Afraid you’ll lose without the violence, Munson?” You joke back, turning around to get in position at the head of your row, your cheeks slightly heating up at the closeness.

“Me?” Eddie exclaims, clutching his heart dramatically as the steps backward, taking his place next to Team Blue as well. “I’m a sworn pacifist. Let’s make love, not war” he declares, his eyes never leaving yours.

Thankfully, you remember that there are twenty kids right there with you, eager to start playing, so you manage to snap out of his magnetic gaze and clap your hands one last time.

“Alright, campers!” You state, the suspense palpable among the kids as you wait to announce the first number. “Let’s start with… number three!”

One at a time, you and Eddie alternate in calling numbers for the following half hour, watching excitedly as the kids run and clash into each other, stand still next to the flag waiting for the other’s next move, fall on the ground after slipping on a patch of mud just to get up again laughing and with dirty clothes. Thankfully, no one gets hurt and everyone’s having fun, even if the competition is getting more intense - and you and Eddie slowly start getting into it as well, moving past mere superintendence as you cheer the kids when they score points and encourage them when they lose the flag to the other team.

“Yes! Yes!” Eddie is exulting now, throwing his ringed fists in the air as a girl from Team Blue earns another point and makes the score tie to 15-15. “That was fucking amazing, Williams” he tells her with a huge grin, bending to her height with one hand raised in front of her.

You refrain from calling his swearing out as you notice that the girl is looking at him panting, the white flag held tight in her fist as rivulets of sweat roll down her forehead. She hesitates a second as she studies him, her eyes moving fast between his encouraging look and his hand - until, finally, she grins back at him enthusiastically and gives him a loud high-five.

You smile at the interaction, your heart warming up as you watch Eddie roughly ruffling the girl’s hair with pride - seeing him interact and play with the younger campers like this forced job isn’t that bad after all makes you feel glad that he’s here.

But above it all, you’re happy that the kids are able to see past his tattoos, his long hair and heavy rings, moving beyond the prejudices and preconceptions that they’ve been taught from the day they’re born. Just as Jason Carver is always picture-perfect but secretly hides mean remarks and the attitude of a real bully, Eddie is proving again and again how kind, funny and creative he can be - to you, to your friends and to the campers as well. Sure, he might be a weird metalhead who’s into fantasy games and who presents himself with a dark, moody façade that he wears like armor - but deep down he’s a good guy. Special, you’d dare say. And watching the kids getting to know him and discovering all the beautiful sides that shine through the cracks of prejudice and appearances just warms you, because you know that it must feel good for Eddie, as well.

“Miss y/n” a voice from your left suddenly grabs your attention, making you turn your head away from Eddie. “You should play the final round”

With your eyebrows furrowed, you curiously look at Tim, who is speaking to you with a wide smile on his lips. The other kids on Team Red are nodding enthusiastically behind him, some of them encouraging you to go ahead, and make them win - their growing cheers immediately echoed by the members of Team Blue as the girl who just high-fived Eddie is pulling at his t-shirt to convince him to join you.

“Guys, we can’t” you try to reason with them, “this is your match, you’ve played so well so far and it wouldn’t be fair-“

“Afraid of losing, Henderson?” Eddie chips in, mocking your own statement as he takes a step forward, his hands on his hips and the swarm of Team Blue kids giggling behind him.

You cross your arms on your chest, pretending to be offended as the kids in Team Red gasp in surprise.

“Come on, Miss y/n, please” Tim nudges you in your side, his expectant and pleading puppy eyes making a soft smile appear on your smile.

“Well, if you put it like this...” you reply, lifting your gaze up to meet Eddie’s with a sigh. “I guess I’ll have to defend my honor”.

The loud cheering of the campers rings in your ears as you and Eddie walk to the back of your respective rows, your heads high as you feel the invisible thread between the two of you vibrate with an exciting kind of tension. The playfulness and defiance in Eddie’s eyes make your heart beat faster and your smile gets harder to hide. He cocks an eyebrow up at you, his own smirk mirroring yours as he places his palms flat on his bending knees, ready to spring as soon as you get the go-ahead. Something in your stomach twists, but you push the feeling away as you firmly direct your eyes towards the billowing piece of white cotton in the near distance.

“Ready…” Tim exclaims as he begins the countdown, the kids beside him crossing their fingers and cheering you on. “Set.. go!”

It all happens in the whirlwind of a few seconds. Both you and Eddie sprint towards the flagpole, racing to be the first to get to it; you’re losing ground at first, Eddie’s long, jeans-clad legs allowing him to cover more distance with each step. But suddenly he almost slips, the sole of one of his white Reeboks sliding on a patch of mud - he wavers but doesn’t fall, but it’s too late: you get to the pole first and the flag is now in your hand, and you wave it victoriously as you turn around.

It doesn’t end here, though, and you know it - and so does Eddie. As he balances himself to stand up straight again, you realize that now you have to make it back to your spot in the row to score the point - but to do so, you’ll have to pass by him.

Eddie looks at you with glinting eyes and a knowing smirk, the lean muscles tense under the fabric of his clothes as he’s ready to sprint in whatever direction you’re going.

You look back at him, chest heavy with quick puffs.

“Take your time, sweetheart” Eddie coos, his eyes steady on yours, “I'm in no rush”.

The kids on both teams hold their breath in anticipation. You consider and weigh all options, then decide to go for a little trick - you don’t know if it’s going to work, but at this point it doesn’t really matter.

Slowly at first, you make your way towards the left one step at a time. Eddie matches your every movement, a chuckle threatening to escape his lips (and yours as well) while you tiptoe towards each other as if you’re walking on eggs.

Then, all of a sudden you sprint to the right, attempting a last-minute turn that seems to catch him by surprise. You feel Eddie’s rings and fingertips graze the skin of your arm as you move past and around him, your spot in the Team Red row now closer than ever, the cheers of victory from the kids already echoing in your ears… but just as you’re about to step in place, you feel a tug around your waist and you’re suddenly pulled backward.

In the blink of an eye, you hear Eddie scream a loud “Gotcha!”, but before you can realize that whatever’s grabbing you it’s actually one of his arms, your feet skid without any warning and you feel the ground escape from under your shoes, the sky turning upside down.

With an unexpected splash, you and Eddie tumble into each other and lose your balance, the kids’ surprised exclamations loud around you as you both fall in a muddy puddle, brown grime splattering all over you and staining the white of your t-shirts.

However, as you find yourself literally head over heels, you don’t feel the hardness of the ground beneath you: instead, you’ve landed on something soft, and… moving. As you turn your head to make sense of what’s happened, you realize that you’re lying on Eddie’s chest.

“Shit, you okay?” He asks you, half worried and half amused, one of his hands fluttering across your face and grazing your cheek uncertainly, before landing on your shoulder.

It takes a few seconds for you to respond, as surprise has taken you aback - and because all of your attention is now focused on him being so close. You can’t take your eyes away from his face, from the definite line of his lips, from the soft curve of his nose, from the light in his eyes that seems to be miles deep as you stare into them, the palm of your hand now extremely aware of the rising and falling of his chest as he breathes beneath you.

Batting your eyelids a few times to get back to the present moment, you cough to disguise your slight embarrassment.

“Uhm, yeah, I think so” you reply, getting up to your feet as quickly as you can to examine the damage.

In order to prevent you from going straight into the puddle, Eddie’s tried to shield you from the mud by falling backward and pulling you on top of him - as the thick layer of dirt on his back, his torso and part of his face clearly demonstrates. But it didn’t help much: your shirt is irreparably stained as well, and blobs of thick, brown water are sliding down your cheeks and matting your hair.

“God, we really need a shower now” you mutter as you pluck some wet grass from your ponytail, grimacing at the thought of how much scrubbing you’ll have to do to get rid of all the dirt.

Eddie, who’s been quick to follow you into standing up, nods in agreement, taking a step back with a mischievous smile. “‘Course” he says, as he places himself at the end of the now silent and expectant kids of Team Blue, “but first, we have a victory to celebrate”.

You lift your gaze to him and as soon as you see the previously white flag, now scattered with dark and blotchy stains, waving proudly in his hand, you let out a defeated sigh.

The Team Blue kids erupt in a loud cheer, unmirrored by the sad frowns of Team Red, and you mutter a resigned “congratulations, Munson” as Eddie happily joins the celebrations, bowing down solemnly to the campers that are exulting around him.

— 🏕 —

“And he won? Just like that?”

Robin’s excitement at your retelling of the unexpected turn taken by the capture-the-flag game makes you chuckle.

You're back in your cabin, crickets chirping outside in the dark as you’re getting changed into your pajamas. It’s not bedtime yet, however: after an early dinner that your sports-fuelled appetite welcomed quite eagerly, it’s now time for the annual movie night - which, thanks to the warmth of the early evening, will be held outside the Headquarters, under the starry sky.

“Yeah, he did! The audacity, right?” You reply as you wriggle into your PJ top - an oversized ABBA t-shirt that almost completely covers your light cotton shorts.

“And he did that after he hugged you into a fall?” Robin continues, leaning towards you as the playfulness in her tone reaches her lips, which curve into a knowing smirk.

“He didn’t hug me” you protest, grabbing your pillow from the top bunk before making your way towards the door. “He grabbed me to stop me from, you know, winning the game, and he accidentally slipped on the mud and I ended on top of him- God, Robin, don’t look at me like that!” you yell at your friend, trying to hide your embarrassed laugh as you throw your pillow at the increasingly sardonic expression on her face. “I know how that sounds, but I guarantee you it’s not like that!”

“Okay, dingus, calm down!” Robin exclaims, the smirk never leaving them as she catches the pillow just in time, “you don’t need to murder me to prove your point! It makes it seem even more less than a point, you know? But okay” she quickly adds at the sound of your groan, throwing the pillow back at you and lifting her palms in surrender. “I won’t mention it again if you don’t want to. I’m just saying it’s cute, like something straight out of a romantic movie where both protagonists are too busy hiding their real feelings to actually enjoy them and-“

“Robin” you interrupt her, leaning against the door with a soft smile, “I promise, we’re just friends. Now can we please go? I don’t want to miss the beginning of the only real movie we’re seeing at this camp”.

Robin sighs, jumping to her feet off of the small desk where she was sitting. “Alright, Miss Just Friends, as you wish” she murmurs, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you both head outside.

As you make your way in the dark, meeting a few other campers and counselors on the path to the Headquarters, you can already catch some glimpses of the cinema-like setup from a distance. Then, once you get closer and finally come in full view of the large wooden building, you realize that this year the directing staff have really outdone themselves.

The whole porch is decorated with fairy lights, twisting around the handrail and hanging from the roof in large glittering curves. Hung between the two wooden pillars on top of the short set of stairs, a white, king-size bedsheet is illuminated by the light of the projector, which is set in place behind lots of cushions and picnic blankets scattered on the ground. Most of the kids are there already, sitting in small groups and snacking on warm popcorn that Mrs. Janet is handing out by the kitchen.

“Woah” Robin exclaims, the sparkle of the fairy lights reflecting in her eyes as she amusedly stares at the ensemble, “it wasn’t this nice last year”.

“I know, right?” You nod in agreement while you scan the sparse crowd, looking for your friends until your attention is grabbed by Steve’s waving hand.

You gently tug Robin by her arm, bringing her attention back to Earth as you both climb over pillows and other people’s legs to reach Steve. He’s sitting with Jeff, Gareth and Eddie on a large blanket, whose checkered print almost exactly matches the ones on their pajama pants.

“Hello, strangers” Steve exclaims as he watches you approach, “about time you got here. Thankfully I was early enough to get the best seats in the house”.

“Thank you so much, Harrington” you ironically reply, waving your hand back as you make your way towards them, Robin following your every step to avoid crashing into anyone - since, as she always argues, she has terrible coordination.

As soon as you reach the group, Eddie shoots up to his feet to greet you.

“Hi, princess” he says with a complicit smirk, making you blush with the nickname he’s borrowed from your D&D session, “how’s the coping process with today’s defeat going?”.

You glare at Robin as she badly suppresses a snicker, watching her sit down with the others before turning your eyes back to Eddie’s.

“Not too bad, thanks” you reply, mocking indifference as casually as you can, “even if I could argue that foul play was involved”.

“Oh, was it, now?” Eddie jokes, but he suddenly grows silent as his eyebrows furrow and he leans closer to you.

You’re instantly petrified as he lifts up one hand to your cheek, your heart thumping hard and fast in your chest as a million thoughts run through your head trying to understand what he’s doing with his face only a few inches away from yours - then, taking you out of your anxious wondering, Eddie scrubs something away from your left cheek with a flick of his fingers, his skin grazing at yours for the second time today as he absentmindedly tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“It was, uh, a bit of dry mud” Eddie mumbles as he straightens up away from you, hiding his hand behind his back quickly as if he’s caught himself doing something he shouldn’t have.

You swallow slowly, the sensation of his fingers still on you. “Uhm, thanks” you reply, shying away from him as you sit down on the blanket.

Steve throws a meaningful glare at Robin, who only shrugs in response - you catch the eloquent wiggling of her eyebrows nonetheless, but refrain from nudging her this time.

“Alright” Eddie exclaims, his tone just a pitch too high as he claps his ringed hands together. “I’ll go get some popcorn. Jeff, come with me?”

“Come on, man, I’ve just sat down” Jeff whines, but a burning glare from Eddie makes him stand up with a grunt. They come back with two full paper bags just when the movie starts, and the salty smell of popcorn immediately fills your nostrils as Eddie plops down next to you.

The movie is Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom, which came out last year and was highly requested by campers and counselors alike. The excitement is palpable around you, and even your friends are enchanted by the adventures displayed on the makeshift screen: their eyes are glued to it, and they hold their breath when suspense gets intense.

Scene after scene, caught up in the plot even if it’s the third or fourth time he’s seen the movie, Gareth is relentlessly stuffing popcorn in his mouth, with Steve elbowing him every now and then as Jeff whispers a low “leave some for us, too, man”. Every time that happens, you, Robin and Eddie snicker behind them, thankful that you’re more democratic in sharing the bag of popcorn that you’re holding between them.

During the whole film, indeed, you’ve been alternating picking from the snack bag, in an unrehearsed but perfectly synchronized sequence: Eddie first, since he’s been so kind to go and get the popcorn himself, then you, as you’re sitting right in the middle, then Robin. During a particularly suspenseful scene, however, right when Indy is attacked by an assassin in his room at Pankot Palace, you’re so immersed in the movie that you forget that it’s not your turn yet, and your fingers meet Eddie’s inside the half-empty popcorn bag.

It lasts only a second, and with a low “oh, sorry” you retreat your hand to your lap; but it’s finally done, now, and the movie plot seems to lose any sense as you fail to follow it from this scene onwards. Suddenly, Eddie’s presence beside you becomes the only thing you can feel: the light touch of his knee against yours (has it always been there?), the glimpses of his wild, curly hair that you catch in the corner of your eye, his earthy and sweet scent brought to you by the soft summer breeze, the heat radiating from this body that seems to ignite you in your cheeks and belly without a touch. And it’s there, back again, the new, exciting and scary feeling that you’ve felt so many times by now, the unexpected hope of something great, the warmth of a kindred soul - it feels good, it feels terrifying, it feels like Eddie, and as you slowly, finally come to terms with what it means, right there in the nightly dark, surrounded by projected sacred temples and flickering fairy lights, you can’t help a smile of relief from blooming on your lips. Because you know, finally, what that feeling is - or better, you’ve always known, but now you feel confident enough to admit it. It feels a little like losing control, alright, but is it that bad? Losing control for something that feels this good?

You don’t realize it, and no one else notices, but you shake your head just slightly. No, it really wouldn’t be that bad to lose control. Not for Eddie - not with Eddie.

But. And as this tiny, powerful word appears in your mind, your smile freezes for a second. What if. A million possible doors open up in front of you, each leading to a different worst-case scenario. And you start to think straight again.

But, even if the feeling is something good and new, something you’ve never experienced before, what if the consequences it may bring are the same as those brought by other feelings you’ve felt already? What if it comes to light, this indescribable thing that moves everything inside you without you being able to keep it down, and it ruins everything? What if he doesn’t feel it as much as you do? Or worse, what if he doesn’t feel it at all? It might just be all in your head, for all that you know. A longing for something that’s not actually there, that you thought you had with someone else and that you’ve lost now. Something that was never there, but god, how you wished it was.

You bite your lip as you go back to the story on the screen, pushing everything to the back of your mind. It’s no use getting this worked up now - you can think about it later, or tomorrow. Well, you might even mention something about it to Robin, if you’ll feel like it. Your eyes focus and you wonder how the hell did the movie go from a beautiful Indian palace to a railroad in the mines - but it’s Indiana Jones, so you guess there must be a perfectly reasonable explanation for that.

It doesn’t take long for the movie to end. When the theme song starts playing and the credits roll on the bedsheet wavering in the breeze, everyone starts yawning and getting up.

“Shit, that was so cool” Gareth exclaims, stretching his arms in the air, popcorn crumbles falling on the blanket as he gets up, “I really wish they’ll make more movies”.

“Next time I won’t sit next to you, though” Jeff scoffs, “you’re a snack thief”.

Gareth groans. “Jesus, are you for real?” He talks back to Jeff, hands wavering as he throws himself and his friend into a whirlwind of back-and-forth bickering that doesn’t end until they reach their cabin. They barely even say goodnight to the rest of your group, but none of you actually minds - what’s more, as you watch them arguing while they fiddle with the door handle, you let out a small chuckle that you’re thankful they haven’t heard.

After leaving Jeff and Gareth, you, Robin, Steve and Eddie walk a bit more, talking about the movie and about tomorrow’s plans. When Steve and Eddie reach their cabin, they wave goodnight and go inside - Eddie’s upside-down smile following you until you and Robin are out of sight.

“God, I can’t wait to sleep” Robin groans, throwing herself on the bed as soon as you get into your room. “I’m so glad they went for a pajama party dress code. I’m so tired I couldn’t bear to get changed. You know, like, I could sleep for a whole fucking century and not even world war three would wake me up - ”.

You listen to Robin’s endless grumbling with a smile as you move towards the ladder that leads to the upper bunk, but you stop right in your tracks when you notice that the window in front of the small desk is still open.

“Shit” you mutter, taking a few steps to reach it, barefoot on the wooden floor. As you grab the frame to close it, however, you hear someone talking outside.

“… I swear, it’s true. If Harrington and those two silly friends of his actually heard about it, I bet they’d stop treating them like they’re worth something”

“Y/n, can you pleeeease turn off the light? I’m trying to sleep here” Robin complains, her voice muffled by the pillow. You ignore her, trying to recognize the voice outside - until it clicks. It’s Tammy Thompson.

“… Yeah, Carver told me. That’s why it must be-“

“Y/N” Robin groans louder, but you shush her immediately. She lifts her face up with an outraged look and you apologize silently, waving at her to reach you next to the window. She doesn’t move at first, but as you insist she finally gets up with an exasperated sigh. Once she’s next to you, you flick off the light as quietly as you can.

“What?” Robin whispers, and you touch one of your ears with a finger before pointing outside.

“Here it is” Tammy continues, taking a short pause to make a puffing sound - as an acrid smell reaches you, you realize she must be smoking with someone. “But promise not to tell anyone, okay? I mean, no one that doesn’t, you know, share our opinion on this”.

“Promise! Now go on, I’m dying to know over here” another feminine voice replies, but you have no idea who that might be.

“Alright” Tammy begins, and you swear you can hear the malicious smirk in her voice. “So, a few days ago Jason Carver was talking about Munson and those two freaks that follow him like dogs everywhere, right? He mentioned how he made fun of him once at lunch after y/n Henderson said something about Jason requesting his rightful portion of food or whatever, and how the two of them talked back at Patrick during their hike and stuff”

“Oh yeah, I noticed that” Tammy’s friend replies, “are they like, together now?” She then adds disgustedly.

“Jeez, I hope not for her” Tammy says, “she’s still in time to steer clear of him, even if I don’t think she’ll do that - or Harrington, or their other weird friend with short hair. Buckley, I think her name is. Too bad, I guess”. After a short break, during which she’s loudly puffing smoke, she goes on. “Anyways, Jason was saying how outrageous it is that Munson and his freaks talk back to him or even address him when he knows what they do in their free time. And no, it’s not about that awful music they play, but it’s kinda related. Jason swears that he’s seen them doing something terrible in the woods behind the school - something in the name of the same evil they sing and play about”.

Tammy pauses for some dramatic effect, and her friend urges her to go on.

“Well” Tammy continues in a lower voice, and you have to get closer to the window to hear better, “he said he was walking past the woods after practice one day, and saw them sitting at the picnic table - you know the one, yeah? He couldn’t see what they were doing, but it was looking very suspicious, so he waited until they went back to class. And guess what he found on the table? A dead squirrel. Gutted in a pool of blood. And with the blood they had drawn a freaking pentacle on a tree”.

You and Robin look at each other with wide eyes full of surprise and outrage at the blatant lie - Robin even slaps one hand on her open mouth.

“What’s a pentacle?” Tammy’s friend murmurs, her stupefied words echoed by the chirping of crickets in the woods around camp.

“Oh, I have no idea” Tammy casually replies, all the drama now gone from her tone, “but it has something to do with the devil. Yeah, I know right?” She adds, as her friend gasps loudly. “But Jason is keeping this to himself, and only told me and a few others. Says he wants to wait for the right time - when Munson and the freaks cross the line for good”.

A beat of silence occurs before Tammy’s friend speaks again. “Gosh, Tammy, you’ve been so brave to be alone with him in the woods the other day. I wonder what might have happened if you had followed him off the path”.

“I was lucky” Tammy replies gravely, “would you be surprised if he assaulted me or something? I wouldn’t, that’s for sure. I could make something like that up and everyone would believe me instantly - that would be quite the lesson for people like him. But even the thought of having to deal with-“

Something cracks in the distance - a branch, maybe, or some leaves, and Tammy and her friends almost shriek before rushing away and back to their cabin next to yours.

As silence fills the room and the sounds of the woods slowly creep back in the background, Robin closes the window.

“Shit” she hisses, now wide awake. “Shit. Did you hear that?”

You don’t reply immediately. You’re still by the window, frozen in place with your heart filled with rage and sadness and powerlessness at the thought of what you’ve just heard, at the injustice and at the bullying that Jason Carver, Tammy Thompson and their narrow-minded companions are perpetrating towards Eddie and his friends.

“Y/n” Robin speaks up softly, one hand tentatively placed on your arm as she notices your eyes growing glassy. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head. “You know that’s a bunch of stupid lies” you finally snap, worry irrationally taking over you, “right?”

Robin stares at you for a second, her mind putting all the pieces together once and for all. It’s only fair that you’re angry at Tammy Thompson for talking behind your friend’s back - hell, she’d be mad if she caught someone talking like that about you. But seeing you so distraught, so upset about someone you’ve known for less than a month, that’s new - or, it should be. However, since she’s come to recognize the hidden meanings of all the little interactions she’s witnessed between you and Eddie by now, it doesn’t seem that new after all.

“Of course” she exclaims, reassuringly placing her free hand on your other arm as well, “are you kidding? They would never. That’s all Jason Carver’s doing. The kid’s mental, I could swear on that”.

“What do we do?” You ask her, apprehension clouding your gaze.

Robin takes a breath. “Let’s go to sleep” she replies, quietly. “We’ll think about it tomorrow”.

— 🏕 —

Hope you enjoyed this chapter :) Feedback is always welcome!

Taglist • @meaganjm @emwhite1 @juggernort @final-girllll @mermemerald @sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack @stardustworlds @eddiesbirdie @carolineesnell @djarintreble @earthtokace @copycatkillerfics @purpleorbvoid @shinydixon @kiribabyy @whoreforhowl @eddiesskittle @princesseddie

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #camp lovers lake #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munsons stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things x you #steve harrington #robin buckley

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letstrywritingmaybe · 9 months

Text

I’m behind on reading/commenting ugh. I did read one of the fics that updated but it made me sad. But like it wasn’t even really a sad fic, it was more open.

This is getting angry and ranty so I’m hiding it under the cut

But idk I’m just so so so tired of my queen being given the short end of the stick. Again it’s why I hella overcompensate and make him suffer. But it’s v annoying to me that he can do whatever and my queen will still love him? Fuck that bullshit. I’m sick of it. I’m sure it’s cause I’ve never been in romantic love so I don’t get it, but if that’s what it’s like I don’t want to understand. All these stories I hear of women staying in toxic relationships where as the men are always able to leave their shituationship and find better matches, is so difficult for me to wrap my head around. This is just in regards to the people in my real life and from some podcasts I listen to (and social media shit) but I swear the percentage is heavily skewed to women trying to save their shitty relationship while the men are able to break out of it.

Anyways, yeah it’s why I absolutely loathe fics where he’s a scumbag and my queen suffers but ultimately he gets to keep her. First that seems very ooc to me, but I also write him ooc too but just way opposite from that. So I guess whatever. But again I ask why must my queen suffer? Hasn’t she suffered enough? Why are we putting her through all this bullshit and tearing her down and making her believe she can only love this one man? Is this supposed to be romantic? Like what? Like oh wow, guess she’s so fucking lucky he decided to choose her after fucking around and being an absolute dick. Grody.

I swear I’m just too American or at least too much of a Vegas gal to be okay with this. Because I see this shit so much in fics and irl I am fucking terrified of it happening to me. To lose my complete sense of self for an underserving asshole who makes me question love? I would rather die. Like kill me please. Cause if there’s anything I know, it’s love. I’m Lots of Love for crying out loud! All forms of it! It’s not just romantic, but the rest of the world seems to think it’s the only one that matters. And I know I’m guilty of that too, cause I am to my core a hopeless romantic. But when it is pure. Not this brainwashed mess where men can be whores but women aren’t allowed to even look at another person.

Back on my fuck first love being the only love bullshit. I fucking hate this trope when it applies to only women. Not super fond of it with men either, but that’s more of a dig at my main fandom I can’t even enjoy anymore.

Would love to read a fic where she’s the player instead of him and it’s perfectly fine. Make him the one who wonders for fucking once. Does she love him? Maybe. Is she enjoying her life and fucking around? Absolutely and as she should! Not caring that she’s stringing him along cause he’s the back up that she knows she can always go back to, and maybe she does actually love him. Go figure.

Some days I get so angry I just want to write a fuck you fic, but also I don’t cause I hate writing and I have too many other projects I would rather finish so I never have to write again. But then I think about having to read these fics and noping out or sticking it out and being pissed even though I knew where it was going and I would hate it. And I’m like hella judgey but at least I’m not an awful person who leaves rude comments for a fic not meant for me. Yeah if you do that shit you’re a fucking asshole and I want nothing to do with you.

I didn’t intend to start this post off so angry, and now I don’t even remember my main reason for trying to make an update here. I’ve just annoyed myself and I need to leave or else I’ll be too tired for my hopeful boost of serotonin tomorrow (or today rather). I’m probably just irritated from being at the airport like all day. I love traveling but some airports and airlines suck.

Anyways main point, let Shiho bejeweled! Don’t keep her locked up in the basement! She’s a diamond, so let her shine damn it!

#cynply ranting #please for the love of all that is good give me the strength to stop reading fics I know I’ll hate #honestly what do you expect Cyn? you’re too American in your ideals for this fandom #it’s why you’re always so unhappy with this ship cause it perpetuates a lot of bs thinking you hate #I’m gonna write the break up fic one day and finally be free #or maybe a heartbreaker fic cause that’s apparently me but that’s another story

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spacedlexi · 2 years

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i always wondered if you ever read any violentine/twg fanfiction and if you have could you tell us your favorites? Or what tropes would you like to read? Idk I just really like this ship and since there was so little content I could find so i read a lot of shit 💀 but I hold a special care for it since it was one of the first fandoms I entered and finding out Clem was bi meant a lot to me cause you don't see a lot of bi representation that isn't like "I like fucking anything that moves🤩(Yea Im looking at you Elite)”.

So yeah I'd like to hear you thought of fanfiction and stuff.

i tried once or twice but didnt get farther than the first chapter or so on the few i tried 😔 i kinda for the most part stopped reading fic after high school to be fair, so im very particular about what i Do read when it comes to fic now. and on ao3 at least since im afraid of wattpad there really hasnt been anything that held my attention (at least in the past. like i said i havent tried looking in a couple years so who knows). i need plot/character development heavy stuff that i can really sink my teeth into and i didnt really find much of that... and the "tropes" i like are more determined by which characters im applying them to so i dont always like the same ones across the board

someone asked me this question a while ago and i asked for any fic recs at the time but i only got like.. one? im really not sure what the state of twdg fic is like honestly

DESPITE all that tho im still slowly slowly SLOWLY meticulously steadily working on my own oneshot that i WILL FINISH I SWEAR its over 20 pages currently and only like 2/3? done?? and half edited BUT it IS outlined so..... i just have to.. you know..... actually Finish it....

i posted some snippets from it a while ago (HERE) but here's a couple longer ones since ive written about 10 more pages (plus like 5 in outlines) since then. im Really particular about the flow of my writing which is like.. the main reason why i take so long to write.. gotta fix it until it Feels Right

A comfortable silence seemed to settle over them then. The wind outside the shack still blew harshly, whistling against the broken windows. But as the girls sat by the warm glow of the fire, and listened to the crackling of the burning logs, it was enough to melt their tension. At least a bit.

The silence continued until the fire began to dwindle with the last of the logs. "We're going to have to start burning those..." Clementine said as she looked at the loose boards they had kicked aside earlier.

"I got it," Violet said as she stood, not even giving Clementine a chance to move. As she grabbed a board and kicked hard at its center, trying to break it in two, Clementine twisted her mouth. Not at the other girl, but at herself. She was still getting used to her new limitations, and it frustrated her knowing there were just certain things that she couldn't or struggled to do now.

The boards had been sturdy once, but due to age and exposure, they had eroded enough that Violet was able to break them with relative ease. She threw a couple of the pieces on the fire and set the rest by the hearth as she returned to where she had been at Clementine's side. She gave her a soft, reassuring smile as the fire came back to life, and Clementine gave a soft smile in return, breaking her from her thoughts, if only momentarily.

She heaved a sigh as her eyes were drawn back to the missing portion of her left leg. She thought about the trek awaiting them in the morning, and her mouth twisted again. "Ugh, walking through all of that snow is gonna fuck up my leg..."

The soft smile on Violet's face became mischievous. "Don't worry, I can just carry you instead." She said it nonchalantly, but the fluttering in her chest betrayed her.

Clementine quirked her eyebrow in response to the bold statement, smiling skeptically as she laughed "Uh, aha, yeah right."

"What, don't think I can?" Violet responded, the look on her face unbothered by the other girls reaction. "Brody was the one who carried you to the school after you crashed and I'm, like, at least as strong as Brody was."

Clementine's face dropped at the revelation. "Wait-... Brody brought us back?"

"Uh..." Violet hesitated at the change in Clementine's voice. "Yeah... Her and Marlon. She was the only one he would ever take outside the safe zone." She explained, and as an aside to herself said "Huh, guess it makes sense now..."

The playful atmosphere had now quickly disappeared, only to be replaced with a quiet, somber one. In the short time Clementine had to get to know Brody, she felt they had started to become friends. However, there weren’t many good memories made between them, and so Clementine more easily remembered the bad ones.

She could still remember that stormy night in the cellar clearly, could remember the sounds of Brody's inhuman screeching. The hot blood on her hands as she fought against the turned girl for her life. The guilt sinking in her chest like a black hole as she looked over what she had done. What she had to do. Clementine mourned her in the way she mourned everyone else she had lost. And it never got any easier.

Violet watched Clementine as she internally fought through her feelings, and once again regretted her words. She didn't want to think about Brody, either. And felt guilty over unintentionally bringing those awful memories to the surface. Clementine told them what Marlon had done that night, yet never talked about what happened after. But Violet had helped the others with the bodies, had seen what Clementine was forced to do. She remembered the sight clearly, as clearly as she remembered feeling that Marlon got what he deserved.

"Maybe we should try to get some sleep before it gets cold in here..." Clementine suggested tentatively.

Violet shifted, stretching her arms out in front of her, catching the last of the heat from the hearth on her fingers. "We should use the bed, then. It'll at least be better than the floor. Plus, there's a blanket."

Violet stood up then, stretching her legs as Clementine looked up at her. "Are you sure that thing isn't completely rotted?"

"It should be okay. We only brought it in here a little over a year ago."

"'We'? Why?"

"Uh-" Violet started at that, averting her eyes. "Um... Minnie and I... we kinda... used to hang out here..."

"Oh..." Clementine wasn't sure what to say to that, but it did confirm her suspicions. So instead, she relented. "Okay."

But she hesitated, looking between her leg and her prosthetic where it still sat propped against the side of the fireplace. "Hmm..." Should she put it back on? The bed wasn't far...

"Here," Violet reached her hand out, noticing the hesitation, "let me help you."

Clementine eyed the outstretched hand, considering her options, and once again twisted her mouth at her new limitations. She kind of hated this. She had done everything on her own for so long, and now...

"C'mon, it's okay."

She looked back and forth between Violet's face and outstretched hand a few times before finally relenting. "...Fine." She really didn't want to lace up her prosthetic just to immediately take it off again.

Clementine took her hand, and Violet helped pull her up to stand. They leaned close as she found her balance, gripping tightly at Violet's shoulder with her free hand. It only took a short moment, and once Clementine stabled herself, her eyes locked with Violet's. They both started a bit when they noticed how close they had become, face to face.

"Aha. Um, you good?" Violet asked, slightly flushed.

"Yeah," Clementine said, hiding her blush better than the other girl. "Thanks."

#twdg #violentine #replies with lexi #incognito #i know how you feel anon i remember the fic tag for them being pretty....barren..#at least compared to what i was used to being into popular ships in big fandoms in the past #i was kind of surprised honestly #but to be fair i read a lot of mlm main pairing stuff in the past and wlw just seems to get less love in fandom spaces in comparison :/#violentines get cozy under my wing i will provide for you #really trying to tackle themes of like #clem dealing with her new disability. learning to rely on others instead of always being the one relied upon #settling into ericsons and solidly accepting it as a safe home. for Real this time #clems past traumas finally catching up to her now that she is in a safe place and is beginning to truly process these events #vi dealing with her guilt over everyone she couldnt save #the way she feels guilty over leaving clem/aj in the woods and feeling partially responsible for her leg #feeling conflicted over her feelings for minnie #(anger? guilt? loss?)#and therefore feeling conflicted over her feelings for clem #(finding new love. more guilt. in a space where her and minnie had good memories together)#(this is a friended route vi where they have feeling for each other but are only acting now that the raiders are no longer a threat)#ok wow you think ive said enough at this point? this post is huge............#ive been talking for too long

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wishmemel · 1 year

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Heyy! I saw your ask a fanfic writer post so I hope you don't mind me participating :D

5, 17, 19, 20, 39, 42, 45, & 64

[ I would've asked more, but I don't want to overwhelm you w a bunch of asks 😭]

hi hi i appreciate you going out of your way to ask ! thank u sm for this as i’ve never gotten a chance to participate in one of these before > <

5. have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son

when it comes to playlists, i make them for my own OCs - not really for fics that i've written ! (but i have a playlist for satoru that is... still a work in progress. i'll totally share once i feel like i'm actually getting somewhere > <)

17. what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

this is such a good question omg - had to scroll through all my unpublished wips for this, but my favourite line at the moment would be:

"IS A STORY DEEMED A TRAGEDY IF YOU TAKE BACK WHAT WAS YOURS (you can raise the dead, climb through hell, and fight the devil if you must; even the gods won’t interfere when they see a wrath like yours, harbinger. fear not, child of stars, lady midnight, the gods need not your wrath to bring about your damnation.)"

hehe this is from one of those never-ending fics that i keep in my drafts and finish two years later cause why not !

19. what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

rick riordan honestly altered my brain chemistry as a child. he was my favourite author for so long which is why i was a little disappointed when i grew up and read about all the cultural stereotypes in his writing :( aside from him, i know this is controversial, but i really like sarah j. maas's writing style for some reason? she focuses a lot on characters, rather than plot, and i tend to do the same, but overall i just enjoy her silly writing.

20. what is your favorite trope to write?

ahh this is such a hard one to choose from, but if i'm being honest i'm always a sucker for two characters in a relationship arguing and being really hurtful towards each other, and then later making up and being so so soft. idk if it counts as a trope, but i have countless wips of this ^.^

39. are you an avid reader?

yes ! ever since childhood ! i used to be a really shy kid and would always read while the teacher was talking until i was told multiple times to put my book away > < i'm more social now and usually only read during breaks when i don't have school to worry about !

42. describe the aesthetic of a story in 5 words.

this question confuses me a little, honestly... like one of my stories? a story i like? i'm so confused > <

since it's not very specific, i'm going to do it based off of this: JJK Men Tropes, if that's okay !

Suguru Version (cause i've been thinking of @mambalae-s recently and i'm always reminded of her love for Suguru): imprints, confessions, promises, childhood, and forever !

45. name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

it's been a while since i've read fanfic and this is more than three, i'm sorry > <

@tawus, @/beaubcxton on ao3, @/impxria on ao3, @edendaphne, and @/xoxodee on ao3 !

64. what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve read?

honestly, any taylor swift lyrics, but also you don't even know me at all (but i was made for loving you), and What Shall I Swear By? (Swear By Yourself, and I’ll Believe You), and Say It Later, Say It Now, and i put this heavy heart in you (it's not your fault) !

i find them all so so poetic and heart-wrenching !

ask game - come say hi (i promise i don't bite ^.^)

#i've read too many miraculous fics haven't i ^^#i don't even like the show #what's wrong with me #i have like 600 fanfics in my bookmarks #i wanna make a rec list #and omg don't apologize ml !!#i love answering these and talking about myself > <#thank u sm for participating #i had so much fun scrounging up these answers #it's nice to have a friend #i think she knows

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criticalcoruscant · 2 years

Text

A Somewhat Comprehensive List Of Dorym Fics I've Written

Ta Da! (under the cut cause i'm not a monster lol)

SUMMARY: Dorian's never been camping. His friends decide this needs remedied. Orym loves overlanding and camping. There's only one tent (there's only one tent!)

Modern AU

Rated: T

One-Shot

Fluff, Author's Love Letter to Camping

READ: Could Be Paradise

SUMMARY: Single rider Orym gets sat next to another single rider Dorian on a rollercoaster. Ashton remains firmly planted on the ground holding everyone's stuff and cracking jokes. That's it, that's the fic.

Modern AU

Rated: T

One-Shot

Fluff, Author's Love Letter to Amusement Parks

READ: Singles Will Be Paired

SUMMARY: Musician Dorian Storm needs to get away from the media circus and the pressure of his manager father after announcing his decision to go solo. He finds respite in the quiet mountain town of Zephrah and inspiration for his new music and perhaps even something more in local widower Orym and his daughter. The quirky residents of the town hatch matchmaking schemes, cliche holiday romance movie tropes abound - will these two be able to find their happily ever after under the mistletoe?

Modern AU

Rated: T

Multi-Chapter, In-Progress, i'm almost done i swear

Hallmark Christmas Movie AU, Fluff, Happy Ending

READ: A Blossom in the Storm

SUMMARY: Orym is fine. He's fine. He's not pining, and he's certainly not missing Dorian to the point of distraction. Certainly not.

Canon-adjacent

Rated: T

One-Shot

Angst

READ: i think about you so much i worry it's become a prayer

#critical role #dorym #dorym fic #orym of the air ashari #dorian storm #risa's ramblings #windy boi #i love one (1) halfling

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sunnytastic-and-the-olympians · 7 months

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Little author's note before I begin: To anyone following this absolutely riveting blog series, I have changed my blog name from @aangtheairfairy to @sunnytastic-and-the-olympians, just to make it easier to know it's me when I like and follow from my main blog (if you are into It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, come follow me on my main, @sunnytastic)

So guess who just finished The Titan's Curse???

You're right, this guy!!!

Right off the bat, I can say The Titan's Curse has lost its place as my favorite PJO book. Currently, the title belongs to The Sea of Monsters. I'm interested to see if The Battle of the Labyrinth or The Last Olympian will take its place. If I remember correctly, The Battle of the Labyrinth was my childhood favorite…

Ok, now moving on to the actual book.

I actually found it kind of boring?

Actually, let me rephrase: I found the novel repetitive. This is probably my fault since I am reading all the PJO books back to back, but The Titan's Curse reminded me a lot of The Lightning Thief, whereas The Sea of Monsters felt like something new entirely.

Don't misunderstand me though. I still very much enjoyed reading this book. When you love something as much as I love the Percy Jackson books, it's almost misleading to present criticisms of it, because it implies that I didn't find pleasure in reading the book, which could not be further from the truth.

The Titan's Curse is where the side characters of the PJO World really begin to shine. While many female characters written by male authors fall flat at best, and downright insulting at worst, Rick Riordan manages to write complex female characters without falling into too many cliches. Thalia, Zoe, and Bianca are fantastic characters, each with a rich backstory and detailed motivations.

(Also, we need more Thalia x Zoe fics because goddamn, did those two have romantic tension. Talk about the enemies-to-lovers trope…)

Zoe, in particular, is extremely well-written. While Riordan is famous for weaving mythology into modern stories, the infusion of Heracle's 11th labor into Zoe's backstory is especially remarkable. It is one thing to create new stories based on established lore; it is another to create a new character within established lore. Her death left me unusually melancholic. When a character I love dies, I react with big emotions, often (half-heartedly) hating the author and begging for their return. But Zoe's death invoked a softer feeling of pensive sorrow. While most tragic heroes deserve better, Zoe's tragedy seems especially undeserved.

While I started writing this blog post last night, I am glad I waited until this afternoon to finish because I recently had some great conversations that expanded my view on the Percabeth dynamic. I feel my analysis of the evolution of their relationship in this book will be more thoughtful than it would have been before these conversations.

While I missed Annabeth's presence in The Titan's Curse, I recognize how useful it is for exploring Percy's growing crush on Annabeth. What's the saying? Distance (and mortal danger) makes the heart grow fonder?

Annabeth's disappearance causes Percy to evaluate the place Annabeth has in his life. The previous book, The Sea of Monsters, had a similar plot, with Grover being captured and Percy going to rescue him, but a major difference between the two books is that in The Titan's Curse, Percy seems in denial of the reason he joined the quest- so much so that Aphrodite even calls him out on it.

Additionally, Percy is worried Annabeth will leave him for the Hunters, but he doesn't have as many reservations when Grover decides to leave to search for Pan. Percy supports his friends following their dreams, but Percy also realizes there is a difference between Grover going personal quest to find Pan and Annabeth swearing him off forever to join the Hunters. This distress isn't entirely romantic either. Part of what makes Percabeth so compelling is the strong friendship which their romantic relationship builds upon.

I believe this is where most of Percy's confusion comes from. When you go from friends to lovers, you spend a lot of time questioning what separates this friendship from your other relationships. And it's very easy to mistake your romantic feelings for a deepening friendship (especially because the two are not mutually exclusive and in fact, occur alongside each other).

This is why I find Aphrodite's quote to be so poignant: "Exquisitely painful, isn't it? Not being sure who you love and who loves you?" As a die-hard romantic, I live by this quote because, for me, it means taking the chance, because if the love is true, the joy you receive outweighs the hurt if it isn't. But for a 14-year-old navigating romantic feelings for this time, every aspect of love seems precarious, especially if your feelings are toward a friend you don't want to risk losing.

I think a lot of Percy's obliviousness comes from a place of "if I don't acknowledge my crush, it doesn't have the potential to end badly." But ignoring things doesn't make them go away and in fact, often makes them worse, as evident in Percy and Annabeth's strained relationship in The Battle of Labyrinth.

This blog post was a fun one. Last night when I started writing this, I was really unsure what to say. I didn't really know what to write about, especially considering my ideas for the blog posts for The Lightning Thief and The Sea of Monsters came to me quickly. However, I am proud of this post because I had to actually think hard about the novel to pull out ideas to analyze and expand upon. The Percabeth analysis, in particular, is much more nuanced than my usual posts about the two.

Book 3 is down. Only two more to go!

As always, TLDR: The Titan's Curse is no longer my favorite, Zoe is a unique character, and Percy's being oblivious to his crush on Annabeth is not entirely unusual.

And because it satisfies my curiosity, this blog post comes in at about 900 words.

Links to the other blog posts in the Isa Rereads Percy Jackson series:

The Lightning Thief

The Sea of Monsters

#isa rereads percy jackson #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #percy jackson and the olympians

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annathesillyfriend · 3 years

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Anna's August Fic Recs

Welcome to my August fic recommendations masterpost!! This has been quite a busy month for me but I'm holding onto last weeks of freedom. I am trying to read as much before uni starts and I had a pleasure of reading some brilliant fics this month. I am so excited to share them with you all! I hope your summer is going amazing and to those, who have just started classes - good luck!

To all the writers - I love you and I appreciate you so much!

To all the readers - please, share the fics you read and love. The reblog really makes the change! It’s the least we can do to show our gratitude.

HOLLAND & Co.

✨ Tom Holland

revenges is sweet by @t-lostinworlds

series, social media au, college!au, football player!tom, fake dating, idiots to lovers, all of our fave tropes, i am invested in this series more than i am in my own life, it's just that good

sunkissed by @duskholland

one-shot, 18+, surfer!tom x lifeguard!tom, exes to lovers, h's great mind at its finest 👏

souvenirs of the heart by @veryholland

one-shot, brought me to tears no joke, such a beutiful story, mila did such an amazing job!!

heartbreak girl by @lauras-collection

one-shot, 18+, lead singer!tom, based on 5SOS song, this is so goooood 😫😫 this story lives in my heart rent free right nextdoor to laura!!

act 1: scene 5 and 6 by @youandtom

one-shot, best friends to lovers, helping tom with learning lines, i loved this very much!

happier than ever by @vendettaparker

one-shot, tom being the great lad he is comes to save an awful date and we stan

the trial of the eldest holland by @reawritesthings

one-shot, ex!tom, welcome to the angst town! this is so deeply heartbreaking but so beautifully written!

lucky to be in love by @hollandsvogue

one-shot, rose is going staright for my silly little heart :')

slide in by @uglypastels

one-shot, frat!tom, i fall in love with this story time and time again

white winged dove by @muhollands

one-shot, 18+, conuntry!tom, insert country boy i love you vine here (also, i'd like to take this moment to kindly invite you all to go through d's whole masterlist cause it's brilliant. this mj blurb has sent me straight to hell but it's so worth it)

abide by @hazofmyheart

one-shot, 18+, mob!au, tom x reader x harrison, this made me feel some type of way 👁👄👁

getting ahead of ourselves by @/hazofmyheart

one-shot, 18+, college! lacrosse player!tom holland x tutor!reader, this is soft, this is cute, this is hot, this is everything! 12/10 would recommend

✨ Harrison Osterfield

little lune by @dovenymph

one-shot, celebrating your birthday with haz, made me want a refund for my birthday cause it's so lovely 🥺🥺

it will come back by @greenorangevioletgrass

one-shot, part of the rich kid!au series, 18+, richkid!haz x richkid!reader x actor!tom, there are no words in any language that would let me express how much i love ava and this au

✨ Harry Holland

wild side by @softholand

one-shot, 18+, best friends to lovers, that trope was made to be written about mister harry holland, i swear

lost in your light by @spider-barnes

one-shot, 18+, best friends to lovers, bloody lovely 💛

falling in love at a coffee shop by @/spider-barnes

one-shot, college!au, oh to fall in love with harry holland at a coffee shop 😫

hope is frightening thing by @peterplanet

one-shot, writer!reader x first da!harry, her book gets a film adaptation and harry is being is wonderful self 🥰

my forever by @unsaidholland

blurb, talking about your future with him, it's just 🥰🥰

circles by @farfromharry

one-shot, rich kid!au, enemies to lovers, so wonderful!

MARVEL

🎂 Suz's birthday fics

this total babe @samwilsons-pillowpecs gave us four beautiful gift on her birthday! we adore you, lovely 🥰 these stories are all wonderful anddeserve their own category 💛

you're the glitter in the dark

one-shot, 18+, mob!bucky

if i could touch you...

one-shot, 18+, boxer!steve

love you in a thousand ways

one-shot, 18+, ceo!sam

miss your kiss

one-shot, 18+, biker!thor

🎂@rodrikstark ’s 1.5k follower celebration!

collecion of headcanons with our favourite marvel boys as well as some other characters, i bloody love them all but my numer one has got to be joaquin teaching you spanish 😌

✨ Sam Wilson

book smart by @indyluckycharlie

one-shot, librarian!sam x PhD student!reader, such a warm and comfy little story by my dearest cate who i love very much 😌

he we go again by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, idiots in love 🥰🥰

adventures in babysitting captain america and winter solider by @princessmisery666

one-shot, reader takes the boys to disneyland and it's just so amazing!

stay awhile by @lacapucharoja

one-shot, black!reader, a saturday morning with sam 😌😌

slow motion by @ambrosiase

one-shot, 18+, sam in baggy grey sweatpants and no underwear, need i say more?

✨ Steve Rogers

bullies, bullied by @anika-ann

one-shot, my main babe is blessing us with protective steve and i love her 🥰

there's a peace in dreaming by @babycap

one-shot, i don't have the words to tell you how stunning this story is, please go read it

✨ Bucky Barnes

timer by @xbuchananbarnes

series, soulmate!au based on the movie TiMER (2009). i could go on and on about how incredible that series is but with dani it's a given, sooo 🤷‍♀️

the kids will be alright by @imaginationintowords

series, social media au, lawyer!bucky x interior designer!reader, single dad!bucky, single mom!reader raising their kid together as friends, also reader x clark kent. honestly this is one of my fave social media aus of all time. and it's got a sequel is coming!!

quick fix by @ocean-bucky

one-shot, tfatws!bucky x ofc, vidra is the queen of ofc's, you simply can't not love her characters!

grant (part 2) by @coffeecatsandsarcasm

two-shot, bucky's in a relationship with a single mom with a little boy, it's so soft, i love this little family!

before sunset, i fell by @buckysbiota

one-shot, modern!au, when i get drunk i get myself cake, when reader got drunk, she got herself a husband. a very fine husband 😏

alcohol you later by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, is it the 4th of dani's fics on this list? yes, she's just that powerful

three flags up by @starbuckie

one-shot, 18+, campcounselor!bucky x campcounselor!reader, best friends to lovers, buck being a cute little puppy in love and i adore him very much

and he kissed me right there by @sunmoonandbucky

one-shot, veteran!bucky, age gap, this is so full of feelings and it's gonna steal your heart!

lost and found by @sunshinebuckybarnes

two-shot, neighbour!bucky, alpine being the matchmaker of the year and we love that for her

hazy dreams and good mornings by @angrythingstarlight

one-shot, 18+, firefighter!bucky, i think that's enough encouragement to read this gem 😏

✨ Joaquin Torres

red by @remmysbounty

one-shot, a truly exceptional story!!

hold my words, keep us together by @/xbuchananbarnes

one-shot, soulmate!au, just simply stunning!

✨Peter Parker

love lies by @rosyparkers

series, social media au, y/n is silk but peter doesn't know it, peter is spiderman but y/n doesn't know it, sarah is the brightest star in the universe and everyone knows it

sunset lovers by @duskholland

one-shot, college! au, soulmate!au where what your soulmate writes on their skin, appears on yours. i don't think i have to tell you that eveything written by h, my beloved is pure gold. the softest thing!

always waiting (for you to come home) by @peterbenjiparker

one-shot, reader comes to peter cause she needs him to patch her up after patrol, it's so funny and sweet and i just love it so much, m is the bestest!!

perfectly a little late by @/t-lostinworlds

one-shot, college!au, reader forgets about peter's birthday. or does she 👀 please, give a round of applause for this wonderful writer who's been feeding us so well this month 👏👏

this fic by @peeterparkr

one-shot, last kiss with peter :') nancy knows all the most beautiful ways to break someone's heart

the plan by @spideyyeet

series, aveneger!reader, reader likes peter, peter likes mj, mysterio shows up, lots of angsty things happen. it's so bloody good, my mates, go read it!!

burning red by @spideyspeaches

one-shot, avenger!reader who who describes people's personalities as colors, it's just a stunning story with wonderful writing and i love it!!

this fic by @mcumendes

blurb, peter brings y/n flowers and is very very adorable!!

kiss me more by @celestialholland

one-shot, first make out with peter and i'm just 😫😫 in love

the reveal by @cloudybarnes

one-shot, best friends!reader where she finds out about him being spiderman, so lovely!!

always by @ptersmj

one-shot, an absolutely adorable best friends to lovers moment

red-handed by @/vendettaparker

one-shot, stark!reader, morgan interrupts y/n and peter's alone time 😏😂

OTHERS

✨ Spencer Reid

as told by flowers by @reidingmelodies

one-shot, story about the progress of the relationship with spencer told by flowers (duh 😂), it's just wonderful!!

✨ Frank Adler

thnks fr th mmrs by @wiypt-writes

one-shot, 18+, reader goes to frank the night before his wedding, i love this with everything i have

will you hold on my love by @writerwrites

one-shot, don't come anywhere near this piece without tissues!!

✨ Ransom Drysdale

undercover boss by @chase-your-dreams-away

series, reader's working at drysdales' company and hooks up with ransom not knowing who he is. this series is so bloody good! i love the reader in here so much!!

a/n: if you catch some kind of mistake or if you see that i miscredited someone - please let me know so i can change that!

#anna's fic recs #august fic recs #fic recs #marvel fic recs #tom holland x reader #harrison osterfield x reader #harry holland x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader

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writefasttalkevenfaster · 3 years

Text

Dancing With Our Hands Tied (Part Two)

Series: Undercover Hotch fic/series™

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Word Count: 4,408 | Rated: T | Warnings: swearing, discussion of domestic abuse, possibly compromising positions(?), an almost kiss

Tropes: bedsharing, fake married, mutual pining

Chapter Summary: after holding hotch's hand for a few minutes, it wouldn't be a problem to hold it for most of the morning? because now the retreat gimmicks begin as the two of you search for information while dealing with the events.

A/N: sorry for the delay on part two -- had some family things going on this month <3. look out for part three :) Thank you to @bucky-of-the-opera for always letting me bounce ideas off of her and generally being amazing.

“Where do we start?”

The retreat lodge was larger than you imagined — with sprawling grounds that weren't just limited to the main lodging area where the couples stayed — but extended beyond to woods, hiking trails, and beyond. Hell, you glanced out the window at a nearby mountain, you wouldn’t be surprised if they owned a mountain as well.

“I have no idea,” you murmur, your arm intertwined with Hotch’s, as the two of you stepped into the lobby for the patented mix-and-mingle with the other couples before breakfast. Not only mind-numbing, soul-churning mingling — but with other couples with marital issues -- exactly what every vacation needs, “this place doesn’t seem big on technology — I haven’t seen a single computer or cellphone,”

“The front desk only has paper logs,” he shakes his head, “I asked about the lack of technology in the rooms. A noted policy of no tech — including the employees. I don’t think we are even allowed our cellphones after this breakfast.”

You scan the couples beginning to shuffle down now, “If there’s no tech here, where do you think they keep their guest and employee files?”

“I don’t think breakfast is ready yet, sweetheart,” he replies, as your gaze snaps to his cheeks burning, as you realize a couple approaching your six, “but I’m sure you won’t have to wait too much longer,”

“I’m right there with you,” the husband winks at you, his stomach shaking as he laughs even before he jokes, “if I don’t eat soon, I’m going to lose one of my only reasons for coming to this place,”

And something tells you it isn’t much of a joke either.

“But not the reason for coming here, isn’t that right, dear?” his wife assumedly smiles at you, icily, “Molly Chapman. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and you are?”

You introduce yourself, forcing a straight face on as you manage to say your alias, offering your hand, “This is my husband, Thomas,” as Hotch introduces himself to Molly’s husband, Harry, who claps your boss on the shoulder.

“So,” Harry leans in, almost clandestinely, “what are you two in for?”

“Harry!” Molly chastises him, but her eyes hook onto your expressions, her lips pursed in disapproval if only to hide her smile.

“Well, if it helps, me and the missus here need some help communicating,” he crosses his arms, shaking his head, “never learned much about that growing up,” and he elbows Hotch, “but I’m sure you can relate — we’re practically in the same generation,” And you nearly snort, trying and failing to hide your smile — which Hotch notes, as you see him shoot a small glare your way.

Harry and Molly don’t notice, too busy reprimanding her husband again, before she sighs, pinching at the bridge of her nose, “It’s just as well, we are all going to find out about each other’s problems anyway,”

And you furrow your brow, “I saw group therapy on the itinerary — is it mandatory?”

“It is,” Molly nods, “Dr. Rosen, the therapist who helped design the program, insisted on it — otherwise it would just be a vacation, not a couples retreat,” and she raises an eyebrow, “didn’t you read that in the paperwork when you signed up?”

“I did most of the paperwork,” Hotch intercedes, his fingers intertwining with yours, “my love here was busy wrapping up some loose ends for work so I ended up taking the lead on it,”

“Oh well now I know what’s wrong with you two,” Harry chuckles, as Molly elbows him again, half-heartedly, as he gestures to you, coffee in hand, “you wear the pants in the relationship, got that one wrapped around your finger, now don’t you? Not surprising, with the age gap and all--” as he looks you up and down, winking at Hotch, as you gape at him, “nicely done, sir.”

Your blood begins to boil, several insults picked out and fine-tuned on your tongue as you open your mouth, “Well—”

“We’re working on it,” Hotch clears his throat, jerking his head toward the now ready breakfast buffet, “Harry, it looks like—”

“Food’s on!” and he’s scurrying away to the table, as his wife follows suit, giving both of you a nod, as you glare at his retreating back.

“Food fucking saved his life,” and your eyes slide back to Hotch, as he gestures for you to head over to the breakfast table, “and so did you,”

“Well, I figured you murdering someone on our first day here would attract some unwelcome attention,” he steers you away from the direction of the Chapmans, his hand now slipping around your waist, and you do your best to ignore the flip of your heart, focusing on the fancy finger foods the retreat put out for breakfast, until you feel Hotch’s fingers drum on the small of your back, “do you see that?”

You glance at him, following his gaze until your eyes fall on a door that says ‘Employees’ Only’ around the corner, the manager slipping through the door, locking it behind him. You glance away nonchalantly, helping yourself to some mini-breakfast sandwiches and some fruit, “Do you think they keep the employee files?”

“Maybe,” he breathes in your ear, as he reaches over your shoulder to grab some food, making you shiver at the closeness, “but how do we—”

“Welcome!” a voice booms from the foyer, sweeping arms as he steps forward cutting through the dining room, “Please everyone take a seat. Help yourself to some breakfast.”

You both make your way to a table, and Hotch pulls out your chair for you, giving a small smile, as he takes his seat beside you.

“I hope you all are beginning to get to know each other, but that is not all you will be getting to know today,” he clasps his hands, he bared his teeth with his fake white smile, “I am Richard Rosen, and I will be guiding you through your time during this six-week retreat, where you are not only going to learn about our facilities, about mindfulness, and about yourselves,” his eyes scan the crowd smiling, “you’re going to learn about each other.'

Oh, how wonderful.

You had read up about this guy last night — went to Harvard — Harvard College in Indiana, and got his certification in Psychology after four weeks of surely intense training. After that, he opened his own practice in New York City, which folded after several complaints ranging from sexual harassment to fraud. Unfortunately for his clients (and fortunately for him), there wasn’t enough evidence to get his lack-luster certification yanked. He then moved from city to city, learning from his mistakes, and never stuck to the same city for long enough for someone to catch onto his treatment packaged charade. Until eventually, he settled upon White Mountains Retreat, where he was allowed to stay in one place, but with a revolving door of patients.

He was one of your suspects — no record, but had easy access to the couples, and intimate knowledge of their relationships.

"But our time will begin together tomorrow,” he beams at all of you, “Right now, I'm going to pass it over to the man who you will be coordinating your incredibly list of daily activities during your stay here — the man responsible for all the wonderful memories you will make — Mr. Brock Hillen," Rosen steps aside, welcoming Hillen to take over, and he doesn’t wait a beat, checking his watch before disappearing down a hall.

“Where’d he go?” you murmur, and Hotch shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” Hotch murmurs, lips barely moving, “but do you see that?”

And you spot cuts on Brock’s arms before he tugs the sleeve of his shirt down to cover it, “Could be consistent with causing those injuries our victims,”

And Brock Hillen was no less suspicious than Rosen — with a criminal record to match. With two charges of domestic assault, Hillen already had a history of violence with his ex-wife, but since she divorced him, he has had no other charges. Yet, because of his record, he went job to job, until he found himself as the Activities Coordinator of White Mountain. Could it be that his rage over his wife leaving him led to the murders? Maybe something in the last few weeks that triggered it.

“Hello all!” he greets, holding his arms out, his fake blonde hair nearly blinding under the bright light of the chandelier that hangs above him, “thank you Richard, for that all too kind introduction,” he begins his spheal on the healing nature of the resort, the efforts of his team in coordinating the next six weeks for them, and you begin to lose interest around his third sentence with the word “enchant” in it.

And your eyes can’t help but slide to Hotch a moment, whose arm rests on your lower back still, the metal of his watch gently pressed against your shirt, and you swear his thumb brushes against your spine. You almost want to brush it away, his touch is so gentle, so sweet, so intentional, but it wasn’t — it wasn’t.

“For our first event,” and now you’re blinking back to Brock — to the reason you were here — to catch a killer, “I’m going to have you do one of the very things that Richard mentioned — an activity that will allow you to you learn more about yourselves and each other,” and he gestures around you, “as well as the grounds themselves,” Other employees start handing the couples a clipboard, “your task will be to get each of your stamps from around the retreat — this obviously includes our grounds and other facilities, including our spa, chapel, gardens, and so on.”

“Seems like a perfect opportunity to look around,” you murmur — as Hotch takes the clipboard, flipping through the scavenger hunt -- at least there wasn’t some cheesy shtick to this activity.

“To symbolize the journey you all will be embarking on together as couples, you must complete the task hand-in-hand,” Brock brings his two hands together, “please, there will be staff all over the facilities, if you need a hint, feel free to ask, and I will be here as well to provide any assistance,” he gestures to employees behind the couples, “now, at the sound of the gong—”

At the sound of the what—

And then a loud crash fills the air, rattling your eardrums, making you jump, “Take each other’s hand, and begin!”

Couples begin scattering about, pulling each other along — you spot Molly dragging Harry away from the breakfast table.

And Hotch rises beside you, offering you his hand, clipboard in his other hand, “Ready?”

You glance from him to his hand.

Probably not, but— your fingers intertwine with his, his calloused fingers warm, and the cool metal of his band brushing against your skin—

“Ready.”

What other choice did you have?

~~~

“How many more do we have?” So far, the first few stamps have taken you all around the other facilities — the spa, the garden, the sauna — but none inside the retreat center itself. Not a single one had given you a change to find where the files were kept in this place.

“Two more left,” he murmurs, “I assume the last one will take us back into the main building, so the other must be—”

“At the chapel,” you glance at the map of the place you were handed by an employee who took pity on you two after you had wandered around the grounds — completely lost, “at least we don’t have to bother figuring out the riddles now,”

“You mean you don’t need to bother,” you shake your head, “i’m sorry, I’m just—”

“Are you okay?” he asks, as the two of you stroll towards the chapel, everyone else out of earshot, “the first day can be—”

“No, it’s not that,” you look around the grounds, and you resist the urge to flex your fingers, but he notices you tense — and you know he would drop your hand but he can’t, so he steps away a little, “It’s not you—”

“But it’s you?” he chuckles, as you bite your lip, “I know it’s a lot,” he sighs, as you two reach the chapel, a relatively small building built on top of a hill. It’s a white marble building, its one spire splitting the sky above it asunder, practically gleaming in the sunlight. The double mahogany doors are drawn open for the couples, another just leaving as you two arrive. You watch him stare up at the chapel, “it is for me too.”

You frown, as the employees at the entrance greet you, and direct you to sit near the front together for a few minutes — to take solace in the quiet before you receive your stamp. Hotch hands them the clipboard as you both wander down the aisle together.

The aisles are lined with white pews, light streaming through beautiful stained glass windows. Your footsteps echoed against the stone floor. You step and sit into the pew beside Hotch, sitting back a moment. The chapel itself had no denomination — it was clear it was made for the sake of religious and non-religious functions — likely an intentional choice not to exclude any religion or atheists for that matter.

After all, money was money in their eyes.

You two are quiet a moment, your hands still interlaced for the sake of the employees still watching the two of you, “I think for me,” your voice low, “it’s just weird to be this close with anyone,”

“You mean physically or?” you shrug.

“It’s part of it — it has been a while since I’ve shared a bed with someone,” you purse your lips, “but like you said, it’s hard for me to let someone see me, like all of me,” and you glance at him, “and it’s hard when you’re literally the leader of a team of, you know.”

“I know,” he leans against the back of the pew, “it’s impossible to hide things from the team even when when we don’t spend every minute with them, and now that we’re spending the all of the next six weeks together--”

“There won’t be much we can do to hide,” you nod, looking down at the floor.

And that was what scared you the most.

The employees hand you back the clipboard at that moment, excusing you both back, and the two of you step out of the chapel, “I just want you to know,” you say, as the two of you reach the bottom of the hill, “you don’t have to hide anything from me,” and he raises an eyebrow, as you add, “if you don’t want to.”

“Do most people hide anything because they really want to?”

“No I meant,” you chew your lip, “This is probably hard for you, and I don’t want to act like I know what you’re going through — I don’t,” you would never deign to think you knew what it was like to lose your the love of your life, your best friend, and mother of your child in one fell swoop, “but you don’t have to pretend,” not with me, you want to add, but you don’t — you can’t.

He blinks a moment, eyebrows raising only for a millisecond, before he sighs, “It’s easier to pretend,” he presses his lips together, as another couple approaches, “and that’s what we’re here to do,” and he begins to walk forward, gently pulling you along, as your cheeks burn, your head fixed on the ground, until he adds, “but I appreciate it,” and you meet his gaze, several emotions in his eyes, before he tears it away, “thank you.”

You don’t get to respond, as the two of you step inside to find only most of the couples still hadn’t returned yet — still collecting the last of the stamps, and most of the staff floating around the grounds to corral and nudge stragglers along. And their absence left an opportunity.

So you glance around, before tugging a distracted Hotch along, wandering around a corner, “What—”

And you grab him by the shoulder, pinning him to the wall, cheeks burning all the while, not daring to meet his gaze, but its just the same because you hear the small gasp of your name that leaves his lips in a whisper, and his body tenses against your palm.

You lean up closer, before slowly craning your neck around the corner, “We’re a couple at a retreat looking to sneak away,” you murmur, lips barely moving, as you lean closer, nose brushing his neck — god he smells good — but you refuse to let your lips brush against his skin, “or that’s what it will look like to anyone.”

His tenseness melts away, and he’s pliable to your touch, as your fingers graze his neck now, your thumb resting against his cheek, as he stares down at you — so adoringly as you tug him by the shirt away from the wall, following you with such ease.

You’re next to the employees only door — your fingers reach for the knob, turning — “It’s locked,” you murmur, and his brow furrows, as you cup his cheek, guiding his gaze to the lock.

And he’s spinning you around gently so that you’re pressed to the wall, your breath catching in your throat, as he looms over you, his fingers cupping your chin. His arm around your back, pulling your lower half close to him, but he’s holding the door knob in place while he tries to pick it with his other hand.

Your cheeks burn as he looks down on you, his gaze freezing you in place, far too close — his breath warming your lips, taking the breath from your lungs and replacing your blood with lava. And you can see so clearly — the cut of his jaw, the soft lines of his face, and the curve of his lips—

And then the lock clicks open.

He’s turning the knob, as you spare one glance over your shoulder to see if anyone sees either of you, but then the door is shutting behind you. You feel the wall for a light switch, and you flick it on, while you hear the click of the door locking again.

And you blink, a glorified break room — a few tables and a basic refrigerator stuck in the corner, a worn couch stuck against a wall, and a sink stuck in the corner with a subpar dish rack — far from the accolades that were in each guest’s room — but then again, the employees weren’t paying through the nose for the rooms.

You two stay close, as your eyes scan for anything that could be a camera — even one that isn’t obvious — placed in a smoke detector or lamp shade, “No cameras,” he pulls away, and you try to swallow the lump in your throat, tucking away the embarrassment to dwell on another time (likely right before when you’re trying to sleep).

But then again, the guests weren’t the ones working 18 hour shifts on their feet.

Hotch calls for you, pointing towards a few file drawers stuck in the corner, and the two of you head over, running your finger down the label on the drawers, “These are all client records — administrative, financial — nothing on the employees.”

“They must keep the employee records somewhere else that employees don’t have access to,” and you’re rifling through the folders, for something — anything.

“I haven’t seen any other employee areas,” you shut the drawers, and then you glance around, your eyes falling on another door in the corner of the room — “unless—”

“It must be Rosen and Hillen’s offices,” you walk over, reading the placard — Administration Offices, “locked?”

“This isn’t something that can be picked easily,” Hotch shakes his head, “it has a bump guard — it prevents—”

“--lock bumping,” and Hotch looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow, “I’ll tell you my reason if you you tell me yours,

He snorts, “I learned it sometime between 6th grade and military school,” and it’s your turn to raise your eyebrows, “my father — he—”

“You don’t have to—” you shake your head, “unless you want to—”

“I’ll just say, it wasn’t a good childhood,” he raises to his feet.

And you can’t help but give a small smile, “But look at how well you turned out,” and he’s shaking his head, shrugging his shoulders, “Hotch,” you make him meet your gaze, “you’re a good man — don’t doubt that.”

His eyes meet yours again, warm, as he looks away to the floor for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching, “Thank you,” he breathes, and he’s stepping forward, “I—”

And then the doorknob is jiggling. Your heads snap to the door, before looking back to each other.

Shit.

Before you know it, his wrist is around yours, and he’s tugging you to the couch, as you fall backwards onto the soft cushions. He’s halfway kneeling between your legs, his body draped over you, and he’s leaning closer, murmuring an apology as he lips draw close to yours, “Hotch—”

And then the door is opening, as his lips nearly brush yours, “Hey!”

An employee stares at the both of you, as you both stumble to your feet, adjusting your clothes, “This is employees only — what are you—”

“Sorry!” you yelp, jumping to your feet, “so sorry,” and you brush past them, Hotch following at your heels.

And the two of you find your way back to the lobby, your heart still in your throat, as you tug on your clothes, “Thanks for the —” your cheeks burn, “I mean, good thinking—” you shake your head, "you know what I mean."

He snorts, his fingers finding yours again, giving them a slight squeeze, "Anytime," and your heart oh-so-helpfully skips a beat, tongue-tied, but luckily you don't have to response as Hotch glances at you, "you never did tell me how you learned about lock picking."

You shrug, “I have a checkered past,”

“That’s not much of an answer,” and you shoot him a half-smile.

“I have to keep you interested somehow don’t I?” you reply right as Brock begins to speak again.

The event wraps up with another talk from Brock — who has an employee approach him towards the end of his talk, whispering in his ear, and he nods, waving him off, “and one last thing — I know you all came to rejuvenate your marriages and partnerships through this retreat and we fully encourage you to do so but—” you swallow thickly, realizing just which employee must have whispered in his ear right then, “please refrain from doing so in restricted areas that are not for our guests.”

You cannot even bear to look at Hotch, keeping your gaze straight ahead, grabbing a drink on the tray, and sipping at it — and you wondered if you were masking your mortification well.

Probably fucking not.

~~~

Brock then adjourns them for the rest of the day — not wanting to “overwhelm them” on day one (or rather padding their time here with nothingness) — welcoming them to have their meal in the dining facilities or up in the rooms.

Most people head off to their rooms, while others linger in the lobby — chatting amongst themselves — he spots Harry rushing off to the dining facilities, his wife in tow.

The rest of the day goes off without much to-do. Hotch glances around — not a single thing of note learned about the guests or the staff. The other couples are all sociable to some extent — some more reserved than others, but none of them fit the unsub’s types so far — placing you two directly in the paths of the unsub.

By the time it’s time for bed, his body is aching for nothing but sleep — and it looked like you had the same idea. Already slipped under the covers, you’re curled up, half-asleep as your eyes flutter heavy with sleep.

Neither of you felt the need to stand guard in the room — the doors were securely locked for each of the couples, and the team was monitoring the situation at the local precinct. But you both kept your weapons close by — concealed in case someone happened to find their way in.

“Are you asleep?” Hotch whispers, and you mumble, shaking your head, turning to glance at him — your shoulders tense and brow furrowed.

“Is something going on?”

And he shakes his head, “No, sorry,” and you relax back in bed, but your lips still pursed, “I just hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable earlier,” and you tilt your head — and he almost smiles at your sleep-induced confusion.

“Earlier?” and then it floods back to you — as you blink, glancing away from him, “oh—”

He shakes his head, “I just don’t want you to think I was—”

“Hotch, I know you weren’t,” you slowly sit up, “if you hadn’t done that, I think we would have been on our way home on our first day,” you chuckle, “and I know you wouldn’t take advantage — especially when we have a job to do.”

Right, a job, he chides himself, It was a job.

“If you want to sleep—”

“I’m not having this conversation again,” you yawn, turning around and getting comfortable again, “good night, Hotch.”

And he looks at you, a small sigh parting his lips — until he finally settles in bed beside you.

His arm resting across his forehead, he glances at you again. He had spent so much of today holding your hand, his fingers nearly flexing at the memory. It had been so long since he had held someone’s hand, so long since he had worn a ring on his finger, so long since he called someone his partner.

It felt so nice.

Nice — not only because he hadn’t realized how much he had missed having someone, someone beside him, someone there — but because —

Because it was you.

And he knew that because — he didn’t want to let go of your hand.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #hotch imagines #hotch #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch fanfiction #fic: undercover

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Note

Jax + 👀⏰🚭

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! 💗

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Up in Smoke

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, overused tropes y’all have already read (friends to lovers + only 1 bed) Word Count: ~1.3k Emoji Prompt: 👀⏰🚭 (key words are in bold)

“What?”

You glare at him and keep your mouth shut. How the fuck dare he ask what.

He went and said it as if he has any right to look so hot when he’s supposed to look like shit. Just sitting there. Sleep-deprived stare, messy ass hair. Ratty old shirt stinking of sweat and dirt and he just doesn’t care. Jax Fucking Teller never looks like shit, not even just a little bit.

Last night he got stuck in a fight and needed somewhere quiet he could crash and hide. As his best friend you somehow got caught in the middle of it. Now you and Jax are cooped up here in this motel out on the roadside. Some unspoken tension rears its ugly head between you two and you’ve no clue how to get rid of it.

Actually you do—you have more than just a clue—you know you need this stupid sexy piece of shit to fucking fuck you.

“How’d you sleep,” you ask without lifting your voice into a question. Your own sleep wasn’t that deep. You’d tossed and turned in every possible direction. On a mattress that felt like the pit of hell—expected nothing less from this motel, given the room was so dirt cheap.

He gives you that signature you’re-a-stupid-whore look which between friends is endearing. Friends or not, coming from him it’s fucking hot. A whole damn kink. “How do you think.”

You cross your arms and scowl. He chose to sleep on a scrappy old towel. “Christ, don’t be a dick about it. I told you to take the blanket but you said you’d be fine on the floor without it.”

Jax ignores that and just pulls a cigarette out. Sticks it in the sweet pink pucker of his mouth. You want to be that cigarette right now. You wish he’d read your mind somehow. Why can’t this big blonde idiot figure it out…?

He takes a puff and looks so hot you might start choking. You can’t handle that today. “Put that away. This room’s non-smoking.”

Snickers at you as his broad shoulders lift up in a slight shrug. “Do I look like I give a fuck?”

You start to fume, the smell of smoke and your own slutty desperation swirling all around the room. “You’re gonna set off the alarm—”

Reach down to yank the cigarette out of his mouth but then he swiftly grabs your arm. That ice-blue fire in his eyes that could do you serious harm. The way you wish he would—he’d rough you up so fucking good… he’s more the fire-breathing dragon than Prince Charming but to you the beast has all the fucking charm.

Last night he’d been a gentleman and had insisted that you take the bed. Today you’re mad ‘cause you had been desperate for him to share the bed with you instead.

He doesn’t know that yet. But he could sense it from the second that you grabbed his cigarette. Jax doesn’t want your lifelong friendship to go up in smoke but he’s been itching to get in your pants for years and if you’re standing here and handing him a ticket… maybe if the sex is epic then it’s worth getting his dick wet. Epic sex is one thing Jax Fucking Teller never regrets.

***************

“Bitch, all you had to do was ask.”

He’s such an ass. That shit is so typical Jax.

He growls it fierce, ridge of his teeth grazing the soft lobe of your ear—thick fingers slide across your slick sensitive clit, seeking the tight heat of your slit—then fucking pierce—he can’t believe he has you here and holy shit—it’s stark how different you appear. He tells himself it’s just a fuck, but no such luck, as something sparks and runs him over like a truck.

Jax Teller never feared the dark but just the light: something that felt too fucking bright. Done so much wrong he has no right. Having you near—this was exactly what he’d feared. Had tried to fight. He’d won last night. He’s losing it with you right here.

The lines between friendship and whatever this is should’ve stayed clear. For fucking years, that was the path he’d tried to steer. Stroking his dick alone in bed, or drowning in another chick he had just met—picturing you instead—that was the closest he could get.

Until you grabbed that motherfucking cigarette.

It’s barely been a minute yet, and you’re already dripping wet. It hits him now that’s how you’ve always been for him. It hits him now that you adore him. That you’d do anything for him.

Hits him in the way you hold him like you’re on the verge of death—the way you lick into the heaven of his kiss with your sweet tongue, fucking explore him—suck the smoke out of his lungs, white hot and seething. You’re the fire that the beast in him is breathing. He’s your first and last and only fucking breath.

You’re set to shatter into pieces on his knuckles, and he wants to fucking cry at just how beautiful you are, but that’s the shit that would cut deep enough to scar, and so instead he fucking chuckles.

Makes you weak; you’d scream at him if you had words to even speak. Just leave it to this piece of shit to fucking lighten it. He drags his fingers from your soaking cunt right in the instant just before you hit your peak, and you can’t keep him in no matter how you tighten it.

Here you had thought you both felt something that meant everything, but suddenly you worry that your inner slut got carried off imagining. Suddenly you think of course that’s not what’s happening. You’re just spread out beneath your best friend on the crap mattress of some seedy motel, and there’s no fucking way the fallout from this session will go over well. No way you can go back to what you were, after this ravaging. No way you can go further and become more in the future, which is what your stupid little heart desires more than anything. No way in hell. No way in fucking hell.

You’re slipping fast and he can tell. Tripping somewhere inside yourself. He’d run away from all the weight of that—or fuck through all the issues, if it’s not too late for that—that’s what he’d do, if you were anybody else.

You’re not.

You’re you and that’s what scares him. Like, a lot. He’s never felt something that tears him, but he’s shocked to find the pain and fear of feeling more than he can even bear just makes him harder, pushes him to take this farther. God, it’s super fucking hot.

The doubt and heartbreak radiating from you twist him up in knots. Jax had no clue, just what that little laugh off of his wicked lips would do. He did it to protect himself but didn’t think it would screw you. He sees it’s true, your pretty face painting the picture of your thoughts. Inches from pushing him away but pull him close instead ‘cause whether friend or lover, you’ll still love him like no other. Cling to him with all you’ve got.

He knows you better than he has any damn right to. He’s in you before he ever drives inside you. Always has been. This was real before it happened.

Holds you as you’re gasping—big strong hand soft on your face, the other keeps your hips in place, forehead against yours as he looks at you with eyes the blue of hope and then becomes the rope you’re grasping.

All the lines of who you were—the blindness of before—didn’t just blur. They fucking broke. You take him deep into your core, and let him wreck until it hurts, beg without words, for him to fuck you like a whore and so much more, and breathe him in so deep you choke.

There’s light on both ends of this cigarette, and no regret, as everything goes up in smoke.

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371 notes · View notes

missgeniality · 3 years

Text

Opaline Moon (m)

“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan

➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite 💕

➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11.2k

➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest.

➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er

➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities, @kithtaehyung and @baepsaetan, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!

This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.

Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment's notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.

Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself.

One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse.

This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’.

Best. Friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step.

The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir.

You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.

“Y/N!”

Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.

“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”

“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.

“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”

“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells.

Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.

His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy.

“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”

You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink.

“What happened?”

“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’”

She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.

“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”

You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you.

Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend.

The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses.

He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.

But wow.

His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.

By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting.

“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.

You’re far too overdressed.

You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it.

The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame.

You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone.

“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”

Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.

“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”

“That’s the fact?”

“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”

“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”

“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.”

“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”

“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”

“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.

Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest.

One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours.

With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls.

“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold.

“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm.

His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance.

You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.”

How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist.

Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in.

One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole.

“Fuck me.”

In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.

“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings.

“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat.

“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

No, no, no.

Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do.

“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”

“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”

Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide.

Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.

But something doesn’t feel right.

The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.

Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.

Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.

Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.

“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”

“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!”

It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.

“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!

“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. “You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”

“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!”

Cool.

You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke.

Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting.

One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again.

I don’t want to hurt you.

Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side.

I don’t want to hurt you.

In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.

And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago.

The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.

Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk

Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.

Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya

Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not.

The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down.

He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges.

“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”

Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.

You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance.

As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream.

Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites.

In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.

“Hey.”

If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major.

“Hi. How are you doing?”

Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency.

“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”

His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless.

But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.

“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?”

Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act.

“No, no! Of course not! I would never!”

His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day.

You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”

He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.

Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage.

“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home.

“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster.

Best friends.

Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.

But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.

“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”

Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities.

Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man.

Well, not quite. Not one bit.

After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation. He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).

“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”

You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one.

Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.”

“Hey!”

The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self.

One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath.

“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.

“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”

Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact.

Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.

A process that includes him getting naked.

Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-

Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church.

And things only get tougher when he finally comes out.

The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief.

Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-

“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”

And there goes that dream.

You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.

It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.

But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.

Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding.

“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”

“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out.

He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne.

It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.

The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.

Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon.

Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.

Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.

Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself.

The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.

“Y-Y/N?”

Fuck.

You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin.

Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?

You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires.

Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side.

Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.

You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.

His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.

Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.

As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim.

His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.

Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.

“I- I was jus-”

“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.

After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”

Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”

“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”

“Jin, I-”

“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”

You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God.

“I love you, Y/N.”

No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain.

“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”

“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”

“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”

You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.

And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.

You love him.

“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”

“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.

“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.

“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”

It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information.

When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”

You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!”

“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”

“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.

When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”

You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”

His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them.

“So much more.”

Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck. Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.

“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”

Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes.

“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.”

He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”

You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands.

“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”

“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

“God, gladly.”

Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.

“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.”

Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.

“Can I-”

“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”

All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”

“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”

“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”

You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different.

Finally, his fingers find their way inside you.

Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.

You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree.

The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.

His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can.

When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released.

Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.

“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.

“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.

With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself.

“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well.

“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”

His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat.

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling. You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat.

“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-”

Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say.

Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”

“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more.

“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”

How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again.

“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.

Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”

“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”

“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this.

“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”

“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.

“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”

He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”

“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”

You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long.

“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.

“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.

“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”

“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.

“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.

Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface.

“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment.

You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.

“You can move now, babe.”

“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock.

Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back.

“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”

“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”

To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him.

He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right.

You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately.

“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.

You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release.

And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.

You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high.

Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.

“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”

“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”

Now this is something you could get used to.

As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you. An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use.

“I love you.”

The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him.

“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”

If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want.

You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.

“What is that?”

The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago.

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”

He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

Taglist 💛: @little7bitchh, @afangirllikeme-blog, @h34rt1lly, @marpotterhead

Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the fic, my ask box is always open for your lovely opinions. To read more of my work, find my main masterlist here. :)

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mrs-biases-recommends · 3 years

Text

ℍ𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕘 ℍ𝕪𝕦𝕟𝕛𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

>>I recommend stories! Because I feel like (even) more people need to read it!

You will not find any smut in this recommendation blog, if you are specifically looking for it, you will not find it here, because there isn’t any.

>>Personal favourites: ♡♡

Edited on: 25-04-2021

a locker flower a day because i like you | florist!hyunjin fic (by @hyyunjinn) ♡♡

Genre: Fluff + High school au

Word count: 5,3k

Pairing: Florist!Hyunjin X Reader (ft Minho and the owner of the flower shop and bff!Jisung ahahah)

Format: bulletlist

Pronouns: they/them

tell me again (why i love you). | hwang hyunjin (by @jeonginks)

Genre: Bad boy au, fluff, angst if you squint

Word count: 1,5k+

Description: Hyunjin confesses his love for you (or not quite) after he decided it would be fun to pin you to the lockers in the boy’s changing rooms.

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Genre: fluff + ANGST + High school/ bad boy concept + slight profanity

Ficstyle: bulletpoints + long

Summary: another tough girl x bad boy story line / you were a girl with little words but every words that you said was “tsundere” af and Hyunjin falls in love with you after something happened to you guys in the past; so you move your attention over to Minho / who are you going to fall with?

➺ 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 ⦙ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 (by @wonglix)

Genre: fluff, slight angst

Ficstyle: bulletpoints

Cuddles (Video Imagine) (by @hyulix) ♡♡

Genre: fluff

Ficstyle: Video Imagine

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Genre: fluff

Ficstyle: Video Imagine

face time with your boyfriend hyunjin who misses you! (Video Imagine) (by @hyulix) ♡♡

Genre: fluff

Ficstyle: Video Imagine

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Genre: fluff, basketball player!hyunjin

Word count: 3,9k

Description: the evolution from being on your phone during basketball games to staring at a certain Hwang Hyunjin

Warnings: Swearing

prince! hyunjin x reader (by @chulobangtan)

Genre: Fluff

Summary: his favourite part of these dances was you

Request: Felix lee x reader historical au? Like a prince!felix where he falls in love w/ someone he’s not supposed to fall in love with? Thank you! Also please don’t be sad ㅠㅠ We’re all here to support you!+ can u do the historical plot for all the members? Like make one story for each and publish it? You don’t have to if u wouldn’t like to

Warnings: Lowercase

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Genre: angst, fluff

Word count: 1,7k

Warnings: swearing, anxiety, feelings of hopelessness, relapsing

For you, for us, for them. H.H. (Fairy AU) (by @mrs-i-have-too-many-biases)

Genre: Fluff/ Angst

Word count: 25,9K (idk what happened)

Summary: A forbidden love between a Knight and a Princess, it’s them against the world. Would they endure separation, or would they change it all.

Season: Spring

Category: Fantasy

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers || Kind of Slowburn!Fluff?

AU: Fairy au

Pairing: Knight Fairy!Hyunjin X Princess Fairy!Reader

Disclaimer: I don’t know much about folk tales or fairies in general. This is my imagination with the use of fairies in my stories.

Warnings: slow burn fluff, strong language, terms of psychotic behaviour, mentions of blood, mentions of death threats. If you spot any mistakes, sorry about those it’s almost 26k words I probably read over it through editing <3

[10:47p.m.] kiss for a bet + hurt feelings | hwang hyunjin (by @scxrlettwxtches)

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: light making out, Hyunjin’s kinda a douhe here :(

[3:30p.m.] kiss for a bet + hurt feelings (the aftermath) | hwang hyunjin (by @scxrlettwxtches)

Part two

No.48 “We’ve become the clingy couple that you used to complain about.” (by @bubblebeom)

Genre: fluff

Word count: 850+

Ficstyle: drabble request

Prompt: No.48 “We’ve become the clingy couple that you used to complain about.”

pizza boy (by @hyuwujin)

Genre: fluff, humor (i think???)

Word count; 2,8k

Summary: You’re a usual customer at the pizzeria your friends work at, ordering pizza whenever there’s no food in your house. But when you realize the new delivery boy is super cute and makes your heart stop, what do you do? Order pizza all the time, obviously.

Warnings: mild language

it’s knot you ✄ hwang hyunjin (by @changbeanie) ♡♡

Genre: fluff, angst, soulmate au

Word count: 5890

Description: Two people connected by the red string of fate are destined to be lovers regardless of circumstance. What happens when the red cord malfunctions and miraculously appears between two strangers?

SFW Alphabet | Hwang Hyunjin (by @sleeping-on-cracking-ice)♡♡

Genre: Fluff

Ficstyle: Fluff Alphabet

Warnings: suggestive themes but it’s only mentioned once

[3.17] (by @lettersfromaphrodite)

Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff Word Count: 597 Tags: friends to lovers

two types of fireworks | {f} ; mild {c} (by @chanluster) ♡♡♡♡

oneshot | tangled! au | historical! au | 21.2k words

“ who could be better adventurers than a wanted thief and a girl with magical hair? ”

s u m m a r y > > when you find a notorious thief wounded within the woods you wondered, you heal him, not realising that the same man will lead you to your destination, and the few feelings you’ll develop along the way.

c o n t e n t s > > long haired flynn rider! hyunjin, rapunzel! reader, irritated companions to lovers, a lot of fluff, kkami is a horse, hyunjin gets SOOOO angry with you all the time, teasing, hyunjin gets flustered easily, everyone in skz included cause i miss them everyday, jisung is the villain iMSOSORRY, a few swear words sprinkled throughout, perhaps? sexual tension? never r e a l l y addressed, and of course, some familiar disney scenes

a u t h o r ‘ s n o t e > > once again, i cannot control myself and wrote double the intended word count!! i hope you like and reblog if enjoy this homies, and remember, long-haired hyunjin domination!!!

everyday job au | hwang hyunjin (by @moonblssm)

Genre: fluff

Ficstyle: Bulletpoints

Tags: Delivery boy!Hyunjin

erubescent | hhj (by @cle1024) ♡♡♡♡

genre: angst, fluff

summary: why are my cheeks erubescent? i shouldn’t be feeling this way about you; i’m not supposed to trust you.

Tags: bad boy!au, florist!au, high school!au, enemies to lovers!au

a/n: it’s big cliche teen romance hours.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, cigarettes

Hyunjin and Felix cuddling headcanons (by @fluffyfelix14)

Genre: Fluff

Ficstyle: Drabble, headcanons/ bulletpoints

somehow catches Hyunjin's eyes (by @fireboltposts)

Genre: Fluff

Ficstyle: Drabble, headcanons/ bulletpoints

Because it’s you | • Hwang Hyun Jin x Reader Oneshot (by @yohbinnie) ♡♡

Genre: RoyalAu / king Hwang Hyunjin x Reader / Romance / Fluff

Summary: In which the Nation’s King falls in love with a unique princess; you.

Words: 2,249

Notes: Just a little something to kill your free time~

“no. the moment you saw me as a bet was the moment you fucked up.” (by @straykits)

request: “no. the moment you saw me as a bet was the moment you fucked up.” , “Would you just shut up and listen to me for two goddamn seconds?!” with hyunjin💓💓 (please a fluffy ending if possible🥺😭)

Genre: Angst, fluff

Ficstyle: Drabble, oneshot

nobody compares to you | hwang hyunjin (by @scxrlettwxtches) ♡♡

Genre: fluff, slight angst, friends to enemies to lovers (yeah, crazy right?)

Warnings: none, slight swearing

Word Count: ~7.0k

Description: You loved your dance captain, you swear you did, but why he consistently paired you with Hwang Hyunjin was something you’d never understand, especially since all the two of you ever did was dance, fight, and then do it all over again.

true love’s irony | hwang hyunjin (by @scxrlettwxtches) ♡♡

Genre: royal au, fluff, angst, very bittersweet ig(?), slight han jisung x reader dynamics

Warnings: light making out hehe

Word Count: ~5.3k

Description: You were never just Prince Hyunjin’s servant. You were his one true love, the sparkle of joy in his dull princely life. And despite his intense desire to have you as his own, your happiness would always be more important to him.

the city and you (by @fromstraykids) ♡♡ ♡♡

characters: you x hyunjin

summary: in which a rich city boy is forced to live in the countryside, but along the way, he meets you

quote: “you belong here”

pretty cute | hwang hyunjin (by @scxrlettwxtches)

Genre: pure fluff, highschool au

Warnings: none!

Word Count: +1.6k

Description: The moment Hwang Hyunjin snatched the unofficial confession from your desk (which he was definitely not supposed to read), you knew you were royally screwed.

[ it’s his hoodie ] (by @etherealino)

Genre: Fluff

Ficstyle: drabble

“I’m the love of your life?” (by @etherealino)

Genre: Fluff

Ficstyle: Drabble

Dry lips (by @maatryoshkaa)

request: Can i request a Hyunjin scenario where you have dry lips and refuse to kiss him?

Genre: Fluff

Ficstyle: drabble

Heather | Hwang Hyunjin (by @milknchannie) ♡♡

Word count: 3.8k

Genre & tags: angst, dance team au, brother!Minho, mentions of other idols

lazy day with hyunjin (by @starryseo)

Genre: Fluff

Ficstyle: Oneshot, headcanons/ bulletpoints

what hwang hyunjin would be like as a boyfriend. (by @chocolvte)

Genre: Fluff

Ficstyle: Oneshot, milestones, headcanons

NEW!

Marry me (by @hyunsuks-beanie)

Pairing: Hyunjin x gn. reader

Genre: Fluff

Content Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff; marriage proposals (duh)

Word Count: 0.78k words

the study of relationships. (by @huenjin)♡♡♡♡

summary — college team’s volleyball captain and your roommate-cum-best friend, hwang hyunjin argues with you over guys being better than girls in relationships to help you out of one. or in which hyunjin is in love with you for years now and he finally decides that maybe he doesn’t want that best friend tag anymore.

pairing — hwang hyunjin x reader, ft. minho

genre — fluff, angst | volleyball!au, f2l!au, roommates!au

rating — nc-17

word count — 15k words

[1:23 AM] (by @seungly)

pairing: hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, angst

wc: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of cheating, weight, insecurities, distant s/o.

Dancing in the rain (by @seungly)♡♡♡♡

pairing: husband! Hwang Hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, angst if you squint

wc: 2.7k

warning/s: cursing, implied social anxiety, use of she/her pronouns.

What a feeling (by @saltyboyz)♡♡

pairing: idol! hyunjin x female!reader

genre: childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angsty?, pining.

prompt: Hyunjin has been in love with the same person for over a decade now, when will you give him the chance?

word count: 3,256

i thought that i was dreaming when u said u loved me ] [ hyunjin au (by @hyunhour)

a/n: yes the title is a lyric from “ivy – frank ocean” yes i wrote this while listening to this on repeat, yes i am a sucker for soft boy hyunjin, yes i-

soft!hyunjin, hyunjin x reader, f2l au, just fluffy fluff

tw: body dysmorphia

word count:

love comes in all types of different shapes and forms. for hwang hyunjin, his love happened to be you.

Mistletoe (by @iinnie)♡♡

❝ i thought chan was throwing a cute, wholesome party! there’s no way you can confess to her like this. ❞

PAIRING ▸ hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, best friends to lovers, high school au, mutual pining

WARNINGS ▸ party scene, mentions of underage drinking, the “they both like each other but think it’s unrequited love” trope, hyunjin experiences jealousy, and a soft and fluffy kiss scene!

SUMMARY ▸ pushing your feelings for him aside, you’re determined to get hyunjin under the mistletoe with his crush. what you’re not aware of, though, is that he’s crushing on you, his long-time best friend.

PLAYLIST ▸ gimmie love by joji

WORD COUNT ▸ 1857 words

Daffodils for you lungs (by @writing-bot-jane)

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: angst

trope: highschool + hanahaki disease

summary: hyunjin and (y/n) were always an unimaginable pair. a pair of people no one would expect that could be such great friends. but that’s it. are they really only just friends, or are there underlaying unrequited feelings?

a/n: a friend helped me concot this hehe- I wish you all happy suffering!!

warnings: death it’s vv sad

Hopeless dreams (by @fairiejunie)

summary: in which you and hyunjin are two royal teenagers wishing there was more to your world than fancy parties and boring courtiers

pairing: hyunjin x female reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: yearning and hopeless dreams

(also sort of dirty-minded reader if you squint??)

word count: 1182

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