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luvwestwood · 14 days

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❝ SAVE A COW, MILK THE ...!? ❞ - Choso Kamo

— (18+) .. SEEMS LIKE THE LOCAL MILKMAN HAS A DIFFERENT TYPE OF MILK IN STORE FOR YOU.

ᯓ★ warnings. (18+), milkman! choso, msub to mdom, overstimulation, titty jobs, p in v, resolved sexual tension, oral (m rec), squirting, slow burn, praising, slight? creampie, suggestive language and actions

ᯓ★ notes. I made choso soo whiny in this I fear.. please beware, there is a LOT of irony in this LMAOO.. plus I need him real bad I think u can tell, anyways hope u all enjoy, this was my 1.4k gift <3

4,862 words (17m read)

please check out and support the actual artists piece on twt!/ig, - @/iamdebruh! + art (center of heading) is by @/yunonoai on twt.

Eggs, sugar, heavy cream, flour, vanilla extract and.. and..?

You analyse the countertop carefully, eyes flickering over each ingredient you had pulled out of the grocery bags less than a minute ago.

"Let's try this again.." Sticking a finger out, you point at the produce one by one, performing a routine of a silly head-count. "Okay- eggs, sugar, heavy cream, flour, vanilla extract and…" Your index finger lands on an empty space that was yet to be filled, and finally, it registers into that brain of yours.

"Oh, how could I possibly forget the milk?!" You cry out in pure distraught, scanning the other countertops in hopes of accidentally misplacing it somewhere instead. Pretty useless though, as no sudden miracle was to be found anywhere.

Groaning, you bury your face into the palm of your hands— mentally cursing at yourself for forgetting one of the vital ingredients for the cream pie, how could you?

Hissing as you pace around the kitchen, you open the fridge with brutal force, head close enough to imploding as you rummage inside for a drop of milk to be found.

"There's no way I'm making a second trip. Not with these gas prices." You whisper to yourself, drawing your head back from being stuck deep inside the fridge, using the curve of your ass shut the doors.

Nibbling on your fingernails, you take one more glance at the ingredients on the counter; contemplating whether you should head back, give up fully and try another day, or….

ding dong!

Hand on hip, your head darts to one side, towards the sound of the doorbell. Who could it be?

Dragging your feet to the front door, you reach over by your side to the console table; digging your hands into the glass bowl for your keys.

Another knock sounds from the door, a deep voice speaking from behind it. “..Delivery!”

As you fiddled with the lock, you glanced over to the clock on the wall; reading exactly half past four in the afternoon. You weren't expecting anyone, really. You usually kept to yourself on Fridays, just to relax from a week’s worth of busy work.

Taking a swift look into the peephole, you could only see the glass covered with white— it seems that whoever is outside is clearly blocking the view.

The door opens widely, revealing a familiar figure you tend to see a few times each week— the milkman. You take note of the few beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, unable to be hidden by his cap. Did he.. run here?

Dark brown hair, tickling the top of his shoulders; cap embellished with "Milkman" just before the brim. Covered in white, bar his black pants. You recall that he goes by the name Choso, a piece of valuable information you managed to pull out of him during an interaction only a few weeks ago.

You must admit, your milkman was quite decent looking for someone with a position like his, and the cute bow tie encircled around his neck depicted him to look sweet and dandy. Wait, there's no way I'm swooning over my local milkman right now.

"Oh, Choso- How could I forget?!" You chirp, seems as if he came at the most ideal time you could possibly think of. "What a coincidence, just in time for my cream pie!"

His biceps scream against the fabric of his short-sleeves, begging to be let out as he tightens his grip around the neck of the glass bottle. "I-in time for your what?" Ears painted with a tinge of red, he looks shocked, more on the flustered side.

Letting out an anxious giggle, you point back behind you with the use of your thumb. "Sorry- I meant I was just about to bake a cream pie right now, and I realised I forgot the milk." Looking over your shoulder, then back at him, he smiles back; clearly flustered over the misunderstanding.

"R-right, I apologise, it's been a really long day.." He hands over the bottle, slightly crouching down to pick up his carrier that rested at his feet. "You're actually my last delivery today, they let me off early cause of the work I've done this week."

Holding the door open with your foot, you carefully place the jug on the same console table behind you, smiling to yourself as he went on a tangent about all the things he had accomplished this week— as if he was expressing genuine content rather than boasting.

"Well someone has been a good boy this week, huh?" You innocently beam at him, Choso's knuckles growing white as he clenched the carriers handle. He seems appreciative of the comment, but looks as if he wasn't used to receiving any.

"..Yeah.." Diverting his gaze away from you, he decides to stare down at the top of his shoes, until something you say has his eyes darting back up at you in a split second. The air so thick with tension, the two of you suddenly stay silent.

Humming before you speak your words, you ponder and wonder if your offer was a bit out of line. "..Would you like to come in for a bit? I could really use some help in the kitchen," Not hearing an immediate response from him, you add on, "You could have some of my cream pie afterwards. It would be a workout going down all those steps again, I assume!"

Choso reaches a free hand behind his head, scratching at his nape in contemplation. He knew that you were referring to the endless flights of stairs that were nothing but a nuisance to him as he tried to get to your apartment.

The fact that you had been the only customer in this entire apartment block, didn't have any effect on him though— as it was you he was looking forward to see each time he's out on the job.

Each time he dropped the same jug of milk at yours, only meant that his low lying interest in you would continuously grow, to the point that he couldn't think of anything else, but you. The man was whipped.

He wanted to get to know you better, but couldn't muster up the courage. He felt as if there never an appropriate time to do so, and the fact he landed a job as milkman, the guy assumed that you thought of him very little.

“I.. don’t know if I should..” He mumbles, anxiety and hesitation written all over his face— so easily read.

You roll your eyes, now leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, Choso slightly taking a step back to refrain from crossing a certain line with you so up close. “Come on, it’s not like I’ll get back to your boss with this!”

Crashing at yours for a bit meant that he'd finally have the opportunity to spend some time with you. Little steps, am I right? He couldn't miss out on something like this. Only a fool would do so.

"..I-I'd love to help you with your cream pie." He blurts out, lips parted due to solely being mesmerised. The two of you gawk at each other for longer than intended, but it doesn’t allow things to turn awkward. Was it the choice of words? The tone? What was it, really?

You blankly stare at him for a second longer than he did, nodding in approval. You had very little hope in him actually saying yes. "..Alright, come in." Beckoning at Choso, you step aside, noticing how he hesitates for a moment, just before he enters at his own will.

You watch as he walks further into the apartment, stopping considerably at a point just to not go out of bounds.

Your own eyes trail down his back, surprisingly so broad, that was now facing you. Having to peel your gaze away, you safely lock the door, dropping the key back into the dish beside you.

Grabbing at the jug, you make your way past Choso; taking yet another glance behind your shoulder for reassurance, just to see him trailing behind you like an obedient puppy.

"Make yourself feel at home, don't be shy!" You remarked, stepping around the kitchen island as you gathered the ingredients back onto the counters; Choso stopping just by the stools in front of you. He seemed all quiet and timid, even doing a double take before he decides to place his carrier on a stool beside him.

He sets aside his cap, politely tucking it away into his carrier before calling for you from across the island. “So.. Is there anything I could help with..?” Extremely eager to assist you in your endeavours, he found it so absurd that he was literally with you, right now, in your own apartment.

“I’m okay for now, just relax for the time being.” Your tone reassuring, you continue your current task as soon as you flash him another smile.

Swiftly putting some ingredients into a bowl, you still occasionally glance up at Choso— the second time round, you didn't even notice that he was already situated beside you, his hands gripping at the edge of the counters as he watched your every move.

"..Hmm, you ever made a cream pie, Choso?" You blurt out, carefully sieving the flour into yet another bowl. You must admit, your words intentionally had a different meaning to them. It was funny, and you knew he would flip out; his burning gaze at the side of your head being unavoidable.

His cheeks flash hot, words stumbling after one another. "I uh, haven't, no.." His voice growing small, you were right in thinking that he thought of a different kind.

Choso mentally argued with himself for doing so, as now wouldn't be the best time to feel his cock strain against his pants. He had to immediately swat the thoughts away, as they were already tight enough. "..Have you?"

His sudden reply had your sieving come to a halt as you slowly looked up to him next and you; just to see that he was still doing the same. Staring into his eyes, you try to think of an answer, swallowing the lump in your throat in the midst of it all.

"..No, I haven't." Your words come out in a whisper, noticing how his eyes alternate between yours and your parted lips. "I've never made one.. It's my first time today." Blinking slowly, you grow timid, your eyes making its way back to the bowl.

Resting your two hands flat down on the counter, Choso's breath hitches— his finger reaching down towards your chin. Guiding you to properly look up, he slightly crouches down to close the space between you two, and in a split second, your lips latch onto each other.

Eyes squeezing shut, you melt into the kiss, wrapping both arms around his neck to bring him closer; Choso letting out a subtle grunt as he hesitates about where to place his hands.

"I.. wanna touch you,” Resting his forehead against yours, his voice trembles, finishing with a helpless crack. Choso was practically begging you, and something about that just had you over the edge. "You don't know how much I've been wanting this.. I need you.. please..”

And he wasn’t lying. He wondered how your soft skin felt to his touch. He always wondered whether he would ever be able to have the chance to make you feel good.

Breathing heavily against his lips, you just nod hysterically, and in less than a second he slithers both hands under your ass, hoisting you into his embrace as he gently places you on the counter beside.

Your lips crash onto each others once again, Choso feeling up and down your body, his demeanor showing how much he's been wanting this for ages. He couldn't even believe it himself. You? Allowing him to have you? Is he dreaming?

A mewl escapes your lips as he cups your face into his hands, his ticklish kisses eventually moving down to your neck, the way he touches you seem so tender, and genuine, Choso didn't want to rush anything. He wanted to savour you.

He anchors himself between your legs— chest heaving so intensely from pure excitement. Meanwhile, you strip your top off, Choso swallowing a lump as he processes the fact that you had nothing else underneath this whole time.

He wastes no time, eagerly latching his mouth onto a breast, groaning as he firmly shuts his eyes, tongue relentlessly swirling around your nipple. His free hand fondles with the other as you comb your fingers through his hair, caressing it gently to let him know he's doing a good job.

You let out a string of breathy moans, a pop sounding from his mouth as he lets go. Pausing for a moment, you try stabilise your breathing, confusion written on his face.

"The sofa," You pant, Choso doing more so the same; his brows furrowed in despair as he yearns for more of you. "Let's move to the sofa.."

And he nods, beckoning you to wrap your legs around his torso once again, your arms being used as support to cling to him. You rest your head against his chest for a split second, allowing you to hear the ecstatic pace at which his heart was going at.

His feet stops just before the sofa, giving you the opportunity to drop back down, in which you suddenly grab his hand and pull him along. Choso seems perplexed, until you gently push him down onto the sofa by the chest, and he could do nothing but stare at you in pure adoration.

"Just relax yourself, okay?" Your voice soft, you kneel after he nods obediently, more than happy to agree with whatever you say.

You don’t dare look away, fingers toying at his belt buckle; which soon enough you end up undoing. Choso was about to lose his mind, and it took a lot in him to not leak right here, right now.

Tugging on the waistline of his pants, the man shifts his hips around to allow for more leeway. His mouth remains open as quiet, irregular huffs slip out, so eager to experience the very next thing you'll be doing.

Stopping as soon as his pants met his ankles, you smile, noticing the wet spot that had formed on his boxers— your hand gently rubbing up and down his protruding bulge. A whimper chokes out of him as he shuffles around a bit more, causing him to bite down on his bottom lip to suppress any more moans. He was too afraid to admit that anything you do has him melting.

All he could do was look down at you between his legs in bliss. Choso just couldn't believe it, and this was definitely not how he expected to end his evening.

His boxers follow after his pants, feeling him shudder under your touch as he comes into contact with the cold air. You shift around upon seeing his throbbing, leaking tip; not letting anymore time pass as you wrap your mouth over it, your satisfied humming sending vibrations to and through him.

Looking up to observe a reaction, Choso only slaps a hand over his mouth, groaning into it as his face returns to the same, crimson red; his other hand shaking as he tries to rest it on the back of your head.

Your head bobs up and down, cheeks hollowing and a free hand kneading at his balls for extra stimulation— Choso endlessly whimpering into his palm as his head falls back into the cushions, eyes eventually closing as he floated around in a pool of pleasure.

Buckets of spit trickled down your chin as you continued sucking him off, Choso squirming in the seat from time to time, his legs unable to stay still. You decide to take another peek, looking at him one more time, and thought to yourself; he seemed cute with the bowtie still on, his actions causing a flutter in your abdomen.

"Mmh," Muffled, as he was too busy suppressing a loud moan, he gives up, hand leaving his mouth to grab onto the sofa behind him. His other free behind your head tightens its grip, Choso suddenly fucking his hips up from the sofa, his teeth gritting as helpless grunts try to slip out. "Cu.. I'm gonna.. Uh.."

Your two hands suddenly place flat onto his thighs as he fucks into your throat, Choso's array of whines intensifying as he feels his balls contracting constantly, his face so warm to the touch.

So helpless, his two hands sets its place into your scalp, Choso bottoming his cock into your throat as he lets out a lengthy moan as a familiar feeling he had never felt washes through his body.

Tears welling up in your eyes, you mentally note to yourself to continue breathing through your nose, Choso’s prolonged groan causing a pool between your legs. You feel a rope of warm fluid shoot down your pipes, your hands repeatedly slapping at his thighs for a sliver of air.

His head hauling back down, he didn’t look the same as he did a few minutes ago— Choso’s eyes low and dark as he pulls you off his cock, a questionable grunt coming from him as he takes note of your fucked up face.

He tried his best not to laugh as you shot him a deathly glare, and of course failed. His smile fades, turning into horror as he watches you slide his cock in the midst of your cleavage, lip quivering as you drop an orb of your own spit on his tip that was slightly peeking out.

Choso’s hands grip at a cushion nearby on the sofa as you began to clamp your breasts together around his cock, moving them both up and down— throaty whimpers instantly emitting from him as you reinforced the stimulation on his still sensitive girth.

“Nghh—,” He cries out, mouth left gaped as he felt yet another foreign knot forming in his stomach; somehow identical to what he felt before orgasm, but just stronger.

“It’s too.. too much,” His words come out in a whisper, Choso’s let’s stamping the sides of your arms as you were anchored between them— his whiny voice trembling as he felt yet another impending orgasm that was about to hit him even harder.

A devilish smile plasters onto your face as you occasionally stuck a tongue out to chafe over his throbbing tip, Choso only able to let out deep grunts this entire as he occasionally looked down at you in a state of euphoria.

“Agai-n, I’m.. cum..” Incapable of finishing a sentence, his tit engulfed cock twitches, much thicker ropes of white shooting up into the air, dropping back down into your chest as it splatters droplets everywhere.

Choso’s head feels heavy at this point, his eyes lazily scanning his surroundings as he spots you decorated with the white drops that somehow managed to make its way to your face too.

Getting back to his senses, he attempts to sit up, legs still weak but with enough strength, his first instinct was to tend to you; the same hands clawed in your scalp making its way back to your cheeks as he kissed you so lovingly, his teeth nipping at those lips that were wrapped around his cock a few minutes ago.

Him being the first to pull always, it seems Choso has a request of his own. “..Get on the sofa,” he instructs, no sign of a stutter left to be heard within his words.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you beam a sinister smile as your aching knees rise off the ground— followed by you throwing yourself onto the sofa beside him.

You watch as he slightly jerks his cock, his eyes watching you take your turn obey orders. Raising your hips slightly to make things easier, you stripped the last of your garments; kicking away your underwear to the other side of the room.

Choso mirrors your actions, kicking off his shoes and trousers as he follows with his knee settling between your legs. You look up and survey his every move as his fingers yank at his bow tie, loosening it overall— his hands still trembling as he attempts to undo all buttons of his shirt.

You giggle, reaching down playfully toying with yourself as you place a foot on his bicep, shamelessly exposing your pussy even more to him as he peered down at you in utter silence.

Finally stripping away his shirt, the bow tie keeps its place and hangs around his neck— your impatient self subtly grinding against his thigh— your slick evidently leaving a mark on his skin.

“Just fuck me, Choso..” You whisper, sticking a finger into your leaking hole that has been that way ever since you made out with each other. Your words examined his ability to maintain his composure, Choso felt that it was time you did the things he wanted you to do.

His breathing hitches, Choso sucking in a breath as he leans in closer, as he guides the tip of his cock to align with your hole. An unoccupied hand grabs your legs, hoisting both on each of his shoulders.

Folding you into a mean mating press, your arms encircle his back, your moans tickling the shell of his ears as he slid himself in— throaty grunts also sounding from him.

Choso begins to move his hips slowly, your mouth gasping at his girthy cock stretching you out completely— his face buried into the crook of your neck as his hot breath fanned against your skin.

“Faster.. faster Choso..” You plead, his hips immediately snapping into you at a faster pace, his lowly grunts returning to the familiar whimpers as your gummy walls wrapped around his entire length. Feeling him in your gut, you chant his name like a prayer, Choso doing his best to fuck you in all the right spots.

A loud moan slips past your lips, your manicured nails scratching at his chiselled back like a kitty and it’s scratch post. As he fucked you into the sofa, something similar to a growl was heard from him as you dragged your nails down his entire back; surely leaving an evident trace of you behind.

Seemingly not enough for him, he uses his knuckles by your sides to prop himself up- Choso grabbing your ankles into the grasp of one hand and pushing them down further and infront of him this time.

On the verge of losing his mind, Choso’s hips brutally fuck into you, his cock deeper than ever— a white, creamy ring forming at his shaft.

His heart races at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you down below, Choso almost hypnotised at the sights as if he were eyeing a pendulum. His hand lets go of your ankles, grabbing for the edge of the sofa above your head— cock drilling you mercilessly into the cushions.

You mewl and whine, utilising maximum strength to keep your eyes open and hold a good view of Choso, his free thumb reaching down to swipe a stripe on your cheek as he coos a few praises at you.

The position you were in as of now had been churning both of your minds, Choso admittedly finding it difficult to continue fucking into you as he was about to cum at any given moment.

“Fuck,” he sucks in a breath through clenched teeth, eyes looking into yours as he studied your facial expressions, “So pretty,” Your cheek eventually fits into his palm as he fluctuates the pace at which he was fucking into you— nothing but satisfaction and adoration to be seen in his eyes.

His hips rut into your hole slow and deep, your hands grabbing at his wrists as you felt him bullying your cervix— cock endlessly rubbing between your walls, tip seldomly hitting against your sweet spots.

The legs of the sofa creak against the floor boards, eventually beginning to scoot itself to another side of the room. You couldn’t care less about consequences you might face with the downstairs neighbours tomorrow.

Strands of his hair stick to his forehead and temples, your fingers hooking around the strap of his necktie to pull in him closer, your lips yearning to have his on yours.

Your walls uncontrollably clench around his length, Choso’s head falling back in bliss; his mouth emitting short, overwhelmed breaths for a few seconds.

Your tits press against his chiselled chest as he fucks you silly, almost as if it was payback for treating him like he was clueless. Did you really think he’d let you boss him around?

Choso’s leans down once again, mouth sucking and leaving marks all over your breasts as he feels himself coming to one of his many orgasms today— buckets of sweat glistening over his physique like a glossy finish.

You grab at his bicep, slapping it repeatedly to give him notice of your impending orgasm— Choso planting a wet kiss on your lips to quickly swallow the ‘O’ your mouth had formed.

He instantly slides his cock out of your hole, taking his length into his fist as he pumps himself slow. His fingers fan over your clit as he ushered you to orgasm and make a mess, so desperate to have you cum all over him. Alternating between sticking his middle and ring finger inside, Choso curls his digits up as he jerks his fingers inside of you.

Your head peers down to see his forearms flexing with his every move, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; squelching noises coming from your pussy.

“Don’t…don’t do that-“ Your brows furrow, lips returning to its O shape as you attempted to hold his wrist as he continued to curl his fingers into you. He knew what he was doing. Choso wanted to make you squirt.

His pleas fucking your mind to an extent, it felt like a mixture of bliss and torture— your eyes struggling at this point to remain open.

“..Come on,” He urges, so needy as he strokes his cock as in-front of you as he watches how you unravel underneath him; Choso slapping his heavy length on your inner thigh whenever he has the chance. “Come on pretty, let go—“

“O-oh, Choso—“ You squeal, fingers reaching and scraping at his pelvis as he got back at you for fucking him up to overstimulation. Your nipples sore and perky, he had to resist the urge to suck on them again.

He spits out his words closely together, pressing his forehead against yours for the second time as you peered your eyes up into his.

“Come on, come on- that’s it,” Choso cooing at you as you released your juices all over his fingers, a sob could be heard from you as a hot flush rushes through your body.

His hand absolutely soaked as he pulls out, Choso nonchalantly wraps his mouth around his fingers, sucking on your slick— his saliva mixing in with the shining fluid that covered his hands.

Pulling you closer to his pelvis by hooking his two hands around your thighs, Choso slips himself back into your hole— your inner thighs soaking with juices.

A mutter of curses under his breath, Choso absolutely loved your warm walls taking his cock whole, his girthy length moving with ease due to the present slick.

Choso was on the verge of losing his mind once again as he realised that he literally got you to squirt less than a few seconds ago, his cock desperately throbbing all over again.

His cock fucks in and out of you, this time cautiously slow as he made sure not to cum inside of you— your clenching walls making it a difficult task for him.

Too sensitive, Choso pulls his cock out with haste, slapping his tip against your clit as he released his own load just outside of your pussy. His entire face flooded with rouge, cock profusely leaking; his grunts in synchronisation with his throbbing balls.

With the use of his tip, Choso pushes the load back into your hole, his cock completely stilling inside for the time being.

Your mind in a daze, you let out a sigh, Choso’s hand caressing up and down the side of your legs as he remained anchored between them.

“We literally just fucked off with the baking. Went and did a whole other cream pie…” You scoff, hanging your head off the sofa, an upside down view of your kitchen filling your vision— everything still left exactly how it was on the countertop.

Silently laughing, Choso takes your leg into his grasp, his head turning to the side as he plant a kiss on your calves. Bringing a hand down to your hole, he stuffs a digit or two in, scooping a few beads of his cum allowing it to coat his fingertips before moving his hand closer to your lips.

“..Milk delivery,” Choso chimes, mimicking his first words from outside your door earlier.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 . all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not repost on a third party platform.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me. ily all soo soo much!

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso kamo x female reader #choso x reader

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emchant3d · 9 months

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It’s the fourth time this week Eddie’s been late without a phone call.

Sure, his job has him working weird hours - Steve gets it. But he also knows his schedule and he knows the days Eddie works at the bar til close and he knows the days he’s supposed to be home before dark, and he hasn’t had a closing shift once this week.

Yet he came home near ten tonight, and Steve had been worried and nervous and yes, sure, a little - a lot - insecure about it, and maybe he’d lashed out first, or maybe Eddie had, Steve doesn’t know, but he knows they’re standing in the living room shouting at one another and it’s all coming to a head and he can’t stop himself, can’t keep from getting loud and angry and–

"Do you even want to fucking be here?" he yells.

"Not when you're acting like this!" Eddie says, and Steve's throat goes tight like there's a fist wrapped around it.

Not when he's acting like this, he thinks. Not when he's being too needy. Too pushy. Too demanding.

Something in his brain feels like it rewires. Their relationship flips on its head, and suddenly fear is coiling in Steve's stomach, not anger.

He'll lose Eddie if he keeps pushing like this. If he demands too much of his time, pulls him away from what he'd rather be doing, makes himself too much work, he'll lose him. Eddie always said he wasn't going anywhere. That he loves Steve, wants to be with him, will never get tired of him. Steve was a fucking idiot to take that at face value.

He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to apologize, wants to tell Eddie to forget all about what he said, wants to show how sorry he is, but between one moment and the next he's feeling like a guest in his own home, and he's very familiar with how it feels to be unwelcome.

So instead he shakes his head. Eddie wants to be left alone, probably. Doesn't want to see Steve when he's mad at him. Doesn't want to deal with him. He'll make himself scarce.

"I'm staying in the guest room tonight," he says stiffly, and turns away, only faltering a little when Eddie mumbles 'what the fuck ever' behind him. He flinches when Eddie slams the front door and closes the spare room so quietly it barely even clicks.

– Eddie gets home late.

Like, late-late. Steve hears the front door open as he's staring at the clock on the bedside table, the bright red numbers burning into his vision. Why did they even put a fucking clock in here, he thinks. It's the guest room. Why did he insist on furnishing this room like someone might live in it? Like this was a home people would be in and out of, like their family would come and stay with them long enough to need an alarm clock on the bedside table?

Desperate, a voice in his head hisses at him, desperate and needy and full of wishful thinking that someone would want to stay around sad little Steve Harrington long enough to need anything--

Eddie's coming down the hallway. He's trying to be quiet, but he forgot to take his shoes off at the door and his Reeboks squeak a little against the hardwood. It's a familiar sound. Comforting, usually. It's how he knows his honey's made it home safe when he's out late, that tell-tale squeak and the little stumbles when he's tipsy and making his way through their home after a long gig.

There was no gig tonight, though, and Eddie's footsteps are steady and even despite the soft sound of rubber on wood. He isn't drunk, Steve doesn't think - and is that better or worse? That he left after a fight and didn't even go somewhere to drink it off. Where has he been, if not their usual bar to think about what they'd spat at one another, trying to think of solutions, of apologies?

And is Steve really owed an apology? He was overbearing. He was pushy. He was demanding and authoritative and too fucking much all over again, and Eddie lashed out in response, and does Steve deserve an apology after all that? He's been going around in circles with himself all evening about it, arguing in his own head, saying yes I deserve one because my feelings were hurt and no I don't deserve one because I lashed out first and how does he answer this for himself? He doesn't know.

He knows he'd do just about anything to make the empty feeling in his chest go away, though. Knows that he'd shove his hurt away and eat his words and apologize to Eddie and never, ever push again if it meant he knew where they stood. If it meant Eddie would forgive him and never storm out like that again, if it meant Steve knew he wouldn't be left alone like this to wonder if Eddie was coming back.

And he feels so dramatic - he can hear Robin's voice already, telling him it was just a fight, that there's no reason to get this worked up about it, but Steve can't help it. Slammed doors and loneliness are the soundtrack to his childhood and he can't help the panic he feels when someone he loves leaves.

"Do you want to be here?" he'd asked, like a fucking idiot, and Eddie hadn't said yes. Steve swallows around the lump that's taken up permanent residence in his throat. Reaches to swipe a hand over his face, rubbed raw, eyes burning with tears he won't let fall because what right does he have to cry? He brought this on himself. He always brings it on himself.

Eddie's feet are still squeaking their way slowly down the hallway, he's trying not to wake Steve - or is he just trying not to be noticed? Impossible, if Eddie Munson is in a room Steve is going to notice, how can he not? He's been yanked into that gravitational pull and there's no escape for him, not anymore, he's a moon circling around the solar system and Eddie is the sun, burning bright and pulling focus and what is Steve to do in the face of that?

He keeps his eyes fixed on the clock. Watches the display change when a minute's passed. Feels his heartbeat stutter when Eddie's shuffling, squeaking steps pause outside the guest room.

They keep a hall light on at night. It's on a dimmer, turned down way low, but neither of them do well with complete darkness. Too many nightmares, too many shadows haunting and hunting the both of them. Steve can see the muted glow of it from beneath the door.

He can also see when Eddie comes to a stop because his feet block that light. Two shadows in the doorframe, obscuring the soft haze of warm orange that creeps in a half-moon over the carpet, and Steve stops breathing. There's a soft shifting noise, fabric over wood, a gentle thunk when Eddie leans against the guest room door, and Steve almost calls out to him. Almost says I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, please don't leave again, please don't leave me, but the words stick in his throat. Ball's in Eddie's court, as it should be when Steve fucked up so bad, when he tried to ruin it all, when he made Eddie so mad that he left when he promised Steve he would never do that. Eddie's a good man. Keeps his word. Steve's the problem, Steve is always the goddamn problem, always will be, ruins and stains everything he fucking touches–

The shadow disappears. Steve squeezes his eyes shut so tight he sees lights popping behind his lids. Those shuffling squeaking steps continue their way down the hall. Steve feels like he's going to throw up but he didn't have dinner so there's nothing in his belly but bile and nothing comes up even though his throat is tight and his stomach is fucking rolling.

The bedroom door - their bedroom door - creaks on its hinges. Steve keeps meaning to put some WD-40 on it but he kind of likes that it makes a noise, that when he's asleep it's just loud enough to wake him halfway and tell him to anticipate the warm wash of tobacco and sandalwood that will cloud him when Eddie slips beneath the covers. Lets him know he's about to be grabbed and groped a little bit, sweet little kisses pressed to his shoulder and neck and jawline until he's got a face tucked into the curve of his throat, until he's giving a sleepy smile and winding his arms around a trim waist and dragging Eddie in close, sputtering and laughing tiredly as wild hair gets in his face and mouth before he falls asleep again, wrapped tight around the love of his life.

None of that tonight, apparently - and he doesn't blame him. No, he hears the bedroom door creak and it feels like a punishment that he deserves and his eyes burn and burn and burn and his face is wet now, he can't help it, and he wipes at it again angrily, takes the soft blanket to his face and why is it so soft why does Steve try so hard when he knows he won't get anything back why does he try to build a home when he's never had one and never will and is going to lose the one he's clawed onto so desperately and tried so hard to keep–

The door creaks again. Steve takes a stuttering breath. Eddie's steps are soft now as they come down the hallway, bare feet on the floor, almost silent as he creeps his way closer. Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw aches, anything to hold back the sounds he wants to make - he can't let Eddie hear him. He can't let Eddie know he's crying. That's manipulative, isn't it? Crying in front of the person he hurt? He won't do it, won't be that selfish, but that shadow appears at the base of the door again. Steve can't help the shaky inhale he takes, and it sounds so fucking loud in the quiet of the guest room, choked and echoing.

"Baby?" Eddie says, voice low and quiet, rapping so gently against the door with one knuckle. "You in there, Stevie?"

Just the sound of him is enough to send his heart crashing around in his ribcage, fluttering and jumping and making Steve tense. He wants to answer but he can’t get the words to form, his throat feels sealed shut, and he wonders if he should answer even if he were able because what could Eddie possibly have to say right now? It can’t be anything good and Steve doesn’t know if he can take it right now, in this room that makes him feel like a guest in his own home - but isn’t he always a guest? Isn’t that what he’s made to be, a temporary stop in everyone else’s story?

But he’s not ready for Eddie to move past him yet. Not tonight. Let it happen in the morning if it has to happen, let him put this off just a little longer. Just please, not tonight. Not yet.

But Eddie’s never been known for his patience, and the click of the latch has Steve slamming his eyes closed. Too late to roll over and hide his face, but he’s got enough time to duck down and tuck most of his features into a pillow. He tries to let his body relax, to let the tense lines of his muscles uncoil and his shoulders drop and his fists unclench, but he can’t tell if he’s managed it and the ache in his palms from his blunt nails tells him maybe he did, but it won’t help much.

Eddie makes his way across the carpet in silent steps, and the mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge of it. Steve’s fingers twitch to reach for him, but he just curls them into the sheets instead and hopes the motion looks absent enough to have happened in his sleep.

He smells sandalwood and tobacco and feels the warmth from Eddie being so near but it feels like there’s a wall between them, one he can’t cross even if he tries, one he’s barred from so much as touching.

He works hard to keep his breathing even but it’s hitching now and then despite his best efforts, shaky and too loud in the silent room, but he keeps up the charade even though the end of it all is perched right in front of him. And it’s Eddie who puts an end to it. It was always Eddie who was going to put an end to it.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, and Steve squeezes his eyes tighter like that’ll make it untrue, like he can just drift off in a second if he wills it hard enough. Eddie shifts on the mattress, and Steve curls tighter into himself. “Let’s just hash this out, huh? Get it over with.” Steve bites his tongue so hard he thinks he might taste blood. It’s that simple for Eddie - but it’s always simple, isn’t it? Cut and dry, plain as day, Steve is the only one who can never see it coming, it’s written on the goddamn walls for everyone else.

He risks peeking through his lashes but Eddie’s got his back to him so it doesn’t even matter, not really. Eddie isn’t looking at him and so Steve allows himself to look, takes in the hunch of Eddie’s shoulders, the curve of his spine beneath his thin pajama shirt - he’d changed, when he’d made his way through their creaky bedroom door, took off his clothes and put his pajamas on and kicked off those tennis shoes, they’re probably in a pile at the foot of the bed for Steve to trip over and he will miss tripping over them, he’ll miss it terribly.

He wonders if he’ll need to move. If he’ll have to find a new place and separate out all of their things into his things, if SteveAndEddie’sStuff will become Steve’s stuff and Eddie’s stuff. Or maybe he’ll just start staying in this guest room, maybe that’s why he furnished this room so completely, because somehow he knew he’d end up alone in it.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and Steve inhales sharply.

“Don’t,” he says, and somehow he keeps his voice steady.

“So you are awake,” Eddie says, and he tries to sound teasing, sound playful, but it drops like a stone in this space between them. No room for levity in the dark cloud Steve’s filled this room with. He wishes he could be easygoing and let go gently, but it’s Eddie - in what world could he take losing him graciously?

“Yeah,” he says, and he stares at Eddie’s back as the other raises his head, but he still doesn’t turn to look at Steve, and he wishes he could at least look him in the face when he rips his heart out of his chest.

part 2

#steddie #steve/eddie #stevexeddie #eddie/steve #eddiexsteve #steddie fic #my fic #listen i was in the mood for steve whump and i won't apologize for it #don't worry there's plenty of eddie whump coming in part 2 i promise

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reidsdaisies · 3 months

Note

spencer beggin to nut in u :3333

digital footprint doesn't exist.

(𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖)

༉‧´ˎ˗ paring; spencer reid x fem!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ content warnings; pretty boy cursing and moaning (🫠), 1 use of ‘y/n’, kinda sub!spence? (its always sub spence), unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this!), spencer begging to nut inside you (🫠 x♾️) but not breeding kink, creampie.

༉‧´ˎ˗ wc; basically 0.6k

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; Aine, coming to my rescue for the second time!! right now i’m working on that post-prison spencer and i know everything takes me a while (i’m the #1 procrastinator ☹️) but this one’s gonna take me a little longer too because i really want to make it a longer fic which is something i suck at cuz again i’m the slowest b ever in every aspect of life but i’ve got big plans. ik for sure i’m gonna go back and forth wondering if its good enough but i’m gonna try something new and stick to it

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Spencer has his head tightly tucked away in your neck, heavily panting as he picks up the pace of his hips moving against yours, his dick thrusting into you. He is so lost in the feeling of it all, that oh-so-familiar and oh-so-intoxicating feeling of your cunt clenching tight around him. Repeatedly, he shamelessly moans your name, pressing sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss to your lips whenever he remembers he can pick his head up.

“Faster Spence, faster,” you moan, patting at his shoulder as you beg him for more, though it is clear that has been his plan all along.

“You’re so wet and- oh god- hot!” his voice cracks somewhere in the middle of his sentence, which just serves to turn you on impossibly more.

“You’re so fucking tight around me.” He bites, almost sounding angry though you know he’s feeling nothing more than pure ecstasy. His words are punctuated with an almost guttural moan from him. One of your hands finds its way up to his hair, tugging his face up that was just buried in the pillow beside your head and forcing him to look at you.

The two of you share a passionate kiss, this one different from the ones leading up to it. This time it’s more needy (if possible), executed with more purpose. He whines into your mouth, almost choking on your tongue as he rushes to pull back.

“I don’t think I can last much longer,” he whimpers against your lips, his face red, the heat from his desire scorching his skin, looking equally as defeated as he sounds, “please, baby, please, let me come inside.”

The furious pace he set of his hips falters slightly.

“Y/n!” He moans your name for the hundredth time tonight. “Please! I’m gonna come,” it’s a miracle such clear words are even able to come out of his mouth. To him it sounds like he’s speaking gibberish. His brain feels nonexistent at this point, he’s letting his body and deep carnal need for you take over him.

“Please, inside, lemme do it inside,” His voice sounds so broken, he’s so broken. His thrusts are noticeably sloppier, his breathing ten times heavier and more prominent in your ear as he’s fucking you at a pace you didn’t previously think him capable of.

Realizing he doesn’t have the strength to keep looking at you anymore, he just gives up, letting his head fall back to where it was a minute ago, planted in the soft, cloud-like feeling pillow beside your head.

“Then do it,” you moan, encouraging him to do just let go, fill you up. It doesn’t take a second after you give him the ok that he’s spasming, his mouth fallen open against your shoulder in a silent scream, as he fills you with his warmth.

Your orgasm is a blissful blur, the feeling of his cum being fucked back into you mixed with his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, albeit a bit shakily, sending you over the edge.

“Holy shit,” is all you manage to breathe out as your strained voice slowly starts to come back to you.

“Holy shit.” He repeats you in a softer, even more weak voice.

“Maybe we should forego the condoms more often.” You joke, barely even conscious at this point.

He whimpers just at the thought of it, using that 1 measly ounce of strength he has left to nod and peck you on the lips.

“I’d like that, a lot.”

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corroded-hellfire · 4 months

Note

I am humbly requesting Eddie wearing a shirt that says “nerds make the best lovers” and then proving it to bookworm!Reader.

Your request is my command. I hope I have done your idea justice!

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, slight choking, soft dom!eddie, public sex (kinda?)

Words: 2.2k

Eddie struts into your first period English class with Ms. O’Donell, late as usual, and she doesn’t even glance away from the chalkboard she’s scribbling vocabulary words on to acknowledge his tardiness. On instinct, you smile at your boyfriend as he makes his way to his seat near you, but as your eyes scan over his shirt, heat blooms in your cheeks.

“Nerds Make the Best Lovers” his t-shirt claims in bold, gothic-style red lettering on the black tee. Eddie gives you a brazen wink and by the sound of all the snickering coming from students around you, you know other people have read the clothing’s pronouncement as well. Mortified, you bury your face in your hands, only peeking out to see if O’Donnell caught a glimpse of her least favorite student’s shirt. Luckily, O’Donnell gave up reading whatever shit his t-shirts said after her twentieth time or so sending Eddie to the front office for dress code violations.

Eddie plops down in the seat next to yours and he shoots you another wink as if you hadn’t seen the first one he gave you when he walked in. Refusing to encourage any of this behavior, you don’t look your boyfriend’s way once the entirety of the class.

Once the period ends, however, Eddie won’t let you get away from him that easily. He jogs down the hallway to catch up with you and drapes a heavy arm over your shoulders.

“Where’s the fire, baby?” he asks. “Where ya headed in such a hurry?”

You shake your head in non-response and keep walking down the hallway, not sparing him a glance. Eventually, you come to a section of hallway that’s mostly emptied of people and you turn to face him, your shoes squeaking against the white linoleum floor beneath you at the tenacity of your spin.

“What is with that shirt, Eddie? Are you trying to embarrass me?”

“Embarrass you?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows. “Baby, I’m just stating a fact. Nerds do make the best lovers. And I’m more than happy to give you a reminder…”

He trails a finger up your arm, and it sends a thrilling shiver down your spine. Any irritation or annoyance instantly melts away at his touch. Your resistance was already futile but Eddie putting his hands on you always seems to shut off any coherent part of your brain.

“A reminder, huh?” you coo, ensnared by his flirtations.

“That’s right. I’ll show just how good this nerd can make you feel.”

You decide to hell with it; there’s nothing particularly important going on today. Nothing that you couldn’t afford to miss, anyway. And even if there was? Eddie’s body pressed up against yours is worth a detention or a missed test.

“Should we head out to your van for this demonstration?” you ask. The number of times his old, beat down van has been out in the school parking lot, rocking back and forth from the two of you, is too high to count. Most of the times being while school is still in session.

“No, I’ve got somewhere better in mind.” Eddie tugs you by the wrist, leading you down the hall in the opposite direction. He comes to a halt in front of a familiar door and pulls you into the drama room. It’s abandoned and quiet as Eddie locks the door behind you. There’s some D&D paraphernalia scattered around the room, a few D20s that were left out on the table.

“Hmm, so the ultimate symbolism of your nerdiness, huh?” You tease as you sit yourself down on his throne at the head of the table. The seat is cold beneath you, but you refuse to let it show.

Eddie stalks over to stand before you and rests a hand on either arm rest of the throne. He lowers his head to meet your gaze with his own challenging one.

“I suppose you think I’m going to kick you out,” he says, referring to the seat. “Not today, my lady. Today…” he lowers himself down to his knees. “Today you just sit back and enjoy my throne while I make you feel good.”

He makes quick work of yanking your jeans and panties off and tosses them somewhere behind him. A strong hand grips each of your calves and spreads your legs wide open, Eddie wasting no time before he’s licking a stripe up your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, fingers digging into the sturdy arm rests at your sides.

Eddie smirks against your pussy as he begins to flick his tongue against your clit. He knows every one of your little tells and knows just the right speeds and pressures to apply to your bundle of nerves to get you just where he wants you to go.

Your fingers scramble to find purchase on the chair as pleasure floods your body, so Eddie laces one of his hands with yours to ground you. His mouth keeps working against your pussy and you do your best not to grind your hips up to meet his tongue. It’s so tempting but you know it will only draw out Eddie’s teasing in the long run.

With his free hand, Eddie delicately trails one ringed finger around your entrance, going round and round, never breaching it though. The delicious whines spilling from your lips only encourage him on.

“Shit, you taste so good, baby. God, I love your pussy,” he murmurs from between your legs.

“Eddie,” you whimper desperately, eager for him to use his fingers already. Being a nerd might not necessarily make him the best lover, but being a guitar player does make for a magical experience when he fingers you.

“Mm?” he hums against your core.

“N-Need your f-fing—holy shit, yes.”

Eddie knew what you needed before you even said it. The two of you work so well together, both mind and body, that you’re like separate pieces of the same machine, headed towards the same goal.

Two thick fingers stretch you out, at your request, as Eddie raises his head slightly to suck on your clit. He curls his fingers up and gently brushes over the spot that he knows makes you see stars. Your own fingers tighten on the arms of the throne and your legs tense around Eddie’s head.

“Shit! Fuck, fuck, I’m coming!”

Eddie smirks against your clit as he helps you ride it out, with both his fingers and mouth. He loves watching you as you come down from your high; all out of breath and dewy from a thin layer of sweat.

The loss of his fingers as he slips them out of you is quickly made okay as you watch him pop them in his mouth as you try and catch your breath. His cocky facial expressions would annoy you if you weren’t feeling so amazing from his damn mouth.

Once he’s licked you from his fingers, he reaches down and fumbles with the handcuff buckle on his belt.

“Made you feel so good and didn’t even take my cock out yet.”

“Wipe that…smirk off your face.” You try to sound assertive, but it falls flat in your blissed out state.

Eddie chuckles and leans in, wrapping one hand around your throat; not tight enough to restrict air, just enough for you to feel the pressure.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands here, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. “Pretty sure you’d let me do whatever the hell I want to you right now, won’t you?” Both of you know the answer to that, but when you don’t give a verbal response, Eddie tightens his grip on your throat just slightly. “I said, won’t you?” he growls.

“Y-Yes,” you squeak out.

The sound pleases Eddie, and he smiles deviously as he releases your throat. He presses a sweet kiss to your cheek that’s a stark contrast to how he was just handling you.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, smugness clear in his tone.

He grabs your hands and yanks you up out of the throne. An involuntary yelp passes through your lips as he spins the two of you around and backs you up until your bare thighs bump into the table.

“Shirt off. Bra too,” Eddie orders.

You do as he says, Eddie’s eyes taking you in like the prey that you are to him with every move that you make.

Once you’re completely naked, Eddie presses his index finger right in the middle of your chest and gives just enough force for you to get the hint that he wants you to lie back.

The moment you get your ass on the table, large strong hands grab behind your knees and pull you towards the edge, so your back falls flat against the surface and your legs are able to wrap around your boyfriend’s lithe body. He pushes down his black jeans and boxers enough to line himself up with your entrance. But he doesn’t push in just yet.

“Say my fucking name, sweetheart,” he says as he leans over you.

“E-Eddie.”

“Louder. I want anyone walking by to know who’s in here making you feel so good.”

“Eddie!”

The man’s grip tightens on your legs and his cock just barely slips into you.

“I said louder. Are you going to be a good girl and listen to me or what?”

“Fuck, Eddie!”

He smirks in triumph at the way you scream his name.

“That’s my girl.”

He finally pushes inside of you, agonizingly slowly, his body towering over yours as he thrusts. Each time, he goes a little deeper, his eyes boring right into yours as he moves his hips.

Your jaw drops open and small gasps escape your lips. You’re not sure what’s hotter: how Eddie’s pounding into you or how he’s staring into your eyes, not once breaking contact.

Eddie groans as he finally bottoms out.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight.”

No words whatsoever fill your mind as you lose yourself in the feeling of Eddie inside your walls. Your boyfriend notices this as well and another arrogant smirk grows on his lips while he stares down at you.

“Aw, already cock drunk, princess? Not a thought in that pretty little head of yours?”

You want so badly to refute it, but you don’t have the words to do so–only further proving his point.

The cool table feels nice against your back as your skin becomes sticky with sweat. Your hands slide from Eddie’s arms and your fingers grip the edge of the table.

Eddie notices the movement and doesn’t want you holding on to anything that isn’t him, though. His hands slide up your body and he grabs your wrists, pinning them above your head.

“Eddie,” you whine.

“Oh, she can speak,” Eddie coos.

“Eddie.”

“What is it, my love?”

“C-Close.”

Eddie holds both of your wrists in one hand while the other one snakes down and presses his thumb against your clit.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie goads. “Be my good girl and cum for me.”

“W-Want you to…with me,” you pant out between labored breaths.

“Don’t worry,” Eddie says with a wry chuckle. “I’m right there with you.”

Eddie might be a complete menace sometimes, knowing exactly how to drive you crazy, but you know him just as well and know how to bring him to the brink.

“I-Inside,” you pant. “Need you to cum inside me.”

“Jesus,” Eddie groans, squeezing his eyes closed and clenching his teeth as he tries to hold back.

“Please,” you beg.

“Well,” Eddie huffs with a laugh, “since you asked so nicely. Come on, princess. Let go.”

The twitch of Eddie inside of you and the feeling of him filling you up has you arching your back as sparks fly behind your eyelids and ecstasy radiates up your body.

“Eddie, yes.”

“Louder,” Eddie manages as he fucks his load into you.

“Eddie!”

The blissed out feeling from his orgasm and your shouting of his name puts a big, dopey grin on Eddie’s face.

“Shit, princess,” he says with a chuckle as he buries his head in your neck. You giggle as he presses kisses and nips at the skin there.

Eddie doesn’t make a move to get off of you, which you don’t mind one bit. You tangle your fingers in his frizzy locks and press kisses to the side of his head.

“So?” he eventually mumbles against your skin.

“So what?”

Eddie picks his head up and looks at you.

“Do nerds make the best lovers or what?” he asks, eyebrows waggling.

You can’t help but laugh as you nod your head in affirmation.

“Yes, Eddie. You have proven it to me.”

“Mmm, good,” he hums before he goes back to kissing your neck.

“What’re you doing?” you ask as the kisses become more and more intense.

He pulls back to look at you again.

“You really think the best lover is only going for one round?” He scoffs and goes back to kissing your neck.

“Thank God for nerds,” you mumble as your eyes slip closed.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #request

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unfinishedslurs · 1 year

Text

gay bar (steddie)

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”

Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar.

“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.

The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“

As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”

It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!

Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.

Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”

“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”

“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”

Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”

He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos.

Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”

What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”

“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?

Eh. Doesn’t matter.

“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”

He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”

“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”

“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”

He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”

“Which one?”

“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”

“How do you even know about that?”

Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”

“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”

He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt.

Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then.

Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole.

“That can’t be right.”

“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out.

“You were Prom King.”

“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh.

Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”

Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”

Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?

Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks.

“What?”

“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.”

Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve.

No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time.

He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country.

He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here.

“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”

What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”

Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”

“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn.

Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears.

“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken.

He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening.

“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”

“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone.

Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”

Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”

“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”

“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”

Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”

“Oh, so you’d call him because…”

“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”

“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”

“…Steve?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”

“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone.

“I just talked to you yesterday.”

Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Steve.”

“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”

“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”

“Munson?”

“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”

“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”

“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs.

“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”

“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”

“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone.

“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“

“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt.

“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”

“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters.

“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”

“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”

“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”

“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car?

“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho. And that was before the melted flesh monster.”

Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”

Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”

“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”

Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”

“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”

Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute.

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is.

“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“

“That was him?”

“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”

“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”

“Don’t kill me,” Steve says.

“Oh, god, did you punch him?”

“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”

He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums.

“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”

“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish.

“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”

“Dude.”

Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham.

“Well, Harrington?”

“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”

Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.

He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.

He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.

“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else.

“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.

“Ugh. Who would want that?”

Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“

“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”

Eddie turns beet red in record time.

“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”

“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”

“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again.

Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles.

“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”

Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”

“The what?”

Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”

“…oops.”

“When?” Eddie demands.

Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”

Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut.

Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”

Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest.

Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”

Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”

“Steve!”

“You do!”

“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”

His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses.

“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”

“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”

“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”

“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”

“I do?”

“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees.

Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink.

“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”

“You could leave.”

She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.

“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before.

Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt.

He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips.

Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful.

From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message.

The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out.

The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.

Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.

The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall.

Robin has been similarly affected.

“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”

“We’re not that bad,” he says absently.

“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”

“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”

She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it.

Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them.

“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”

Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock.

“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex.

Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner.

“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity.

“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”

Eddie shakes his head dumbly.

“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!”

With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd.

“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”

“I dunno, I think it might be working.”

“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument.

“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve.

Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“

“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”

Steve stares.

“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

“I mean, not really.”

“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”

“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”

Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder.

“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”

“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”

“Thought I was fucking you.”

“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”

“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”

“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”

“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.

#gay bar au #steddie #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #featuring robin as the worlds worst wingman #i'm never not going to bully eddie for walking on those tables #'why does everyone here hate me🥺' mf it's bc you keep putting ur nasty ass shoes where people eat #i've said it before and i'll say it again. someone should have yanked on his leg and made him faceplant. he would have deserved it #we stay billy bashing 💪#in this au the byers didn't move to california #jonathan still goes to school there tho #why? bc he and argyle are soulmates and time and space moved for them to make sense next question #i need u to know eddie does not have sex magic and steve isn't actually as smooth as eddie thinks. they r just obsessed with each other #that one person who was in my notes truthing ab a stoncy threesome. i was excited when i saw that bc i had this written hope u see it <3

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xtra7s · 3 months

Note

Could you do an enemies to lovers smut for Renee rapp? I can't find anything like it for this woman, and it's been sitting in the back of my brain for WEEKS🤣

𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧

Pairing: Renee Rapp x gn!reader

Sypnosis: Renee and Y/N, past broadway rivals, meet again at a party.

Content: Renee Rapp x gn!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, alcohol

Word Count: 2.7k

a/n: sorry there isnt much enemy to lover action, im completely writer blocked and I hope you enjoy. Not proofread

masterlist

The room pulsed with energy, and at the center of it all, Renee Rapp held court. Her laughter rang out like a melody, drawing attention from all corners of the glamorous party. Suddenly, a familiar figure appeared in the crowd, and the atmosphere shifted. Y/N, now 23, stood there, an unspoken challenge in their gaze.

"Well, well, if it isn't Y/N," Renee smirked, her eyes narrowing playfully. "Thought you'd be off somewhere trying to steal the spotlight again."

Y/N chuckled, unfazed by Renee's jab. "You know me, always craving the attention you seem to think you deserve."

The tension between them crackled like electricity, the memories of their past rivalry bubbling to the surface. They exchanged pleasantries with false smiles, each word laced with underlying competition.

"Still riding on that role you stole from me, Rapp?" Y/N quipped, a sly grin playing on their lips.

Renee leaned in, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, please. I didn't steal it; I earned it. Unlike some people who rely on sympathy and mediocre talent."

The banter continued, their words cutting deeper with each exchange. It was as if the years had melted away, and they were back on the Broadway stage, fighting for the same spotlight. The party became a battleground, and every smile, every gesture, was a carefully calculated move in their ongoing verbal duel.

The party raged on, the music pulsating through the crowded room. As the night wore on, the competitive banter between Renee Rapp and Y/N took an unexpected turn. Glasses clinked, inhibitions faded, and the tension transformed into a different kind of electricity.

"Admit it, Y/N," Renee slurred playfully, leaning in closer. "You always secretly admired my talent. It's okay; I get it."

Y/N's eyes sparkled with mischief as they responded, "Oh, please. I only admired how you managed to talk your way into roles you had no business getting."

Laughter erupted between them, a shared understanding weaving through the alcohol-induced haze. The lines between rivalry and attraction blurred as they engaged in a tipsy dance of words and glances.

Somewhere in the midst of the chaos, they found themselves in a quieter corner, away from the prying eyes of the party. The air was thick with laughter and a lingering tension that seemed to pull them closer.

"I'll have you know," Renee began, her tone low and teasing, "I could still outshine you on any stage, even in this state."

Y/N chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Challenge accepted, Rapp. But first, can we agree that we were both robbed of that role we fought over?"

Renee's eyes softened, and she nodded, a shared nostalgia washing over them. "Yeah, maybe we were both deserving. Broadway politics can be brutal."

As the night deepened, the flirtatious banter continued, their words becoming increasingly laced with innuendo. The competitive edge now carried a hint of something more, a mutual attraction that had been buried beneath years of rivalry.

"I have to admit," Y/N admitted, their gaze locking with Renee's, "you clean up well when you're not trying to sabotage my career."

Renee smirked, leaning in even closer. "Maybe I should sabotage something else instead."

The playful banter took a more seductive turn, and the air became charged with a different kind of energy. It was as if the years of rivalry had paved the way for a newfound connection – one that went beyond the stage and into the realm of shared secrets and stolen glances.

The raucous sounds of the party faded into a distant hum as Renee Rapp and Y/N slipped away, finding refuge in the dimly lit hallway leading to the bathroom. Y/N shot a mischievous smile at Renee, a glint of playfulness in their eyes.

"I need a moment to touch up my makeup," Y/N said, their voice low and suggestive.

Renee raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, I'm not one to let someone go to the bathroom alone, especially if they might be up to something."

Y/N chuckled, leading the way into the bathroom. The air was charged with anticipation, and the fluorescent lights flickered overhead as they entered the small space. Y/N turned to face the mirror, pretending to focus on their makeup, but their eyes locked with Renee's in the reflection.

"You know," Y/N teased, their voice a sultry whisper, "I never thought I'd find myself in a bathroom with you. The stuff of dreams, really."

Renee chuckled, closing the distance between them. "Dreams do come true, especially when you least expect them."

As Y/N applied lipstick, Renee couldn't resist the temptation. She gently turned Y/N around, their eyes locking with an intensity that sent shivers down both their spines. The playful banter had shifted into a charged moment of unspoken desire.

Renee, with a smirk that conveyed both confidence and mischief, pushed Y/N gently against the bathroom wall. Y/N's breath caught, their heartbeat echoing in the confined space. The flirtatious tension reached its peak as Renee leaned in, her lips dangerously close to Y/N's ear.

"You talk a big game, Y/N," Renee whispered, her warm breath sending shivers down Y/N's spine. "But I wonder if you can handle me."

Before Y/N could respond, Renee closed the remaining distance, capturing Y/N's lips in a passionate kiss. The bathroom seemed to fade away, and all that remained was the electric connection between them. Y/N responded eagerly, their hands finding their way to Renee's jaw, as Renee holds their waist.

The kiss was a blend of years of rivalry, newfound attraction, and the intoxication of the night. The world outside the bathroom ceased to exist as Renee and Y/N lost themselves in the heat of the moment.

As they finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, the playful banter had transformed into a silent understanding. The bathroom had become a secret haven for a connection that went beyond the stage, leaving both Renee and Y/N wondering what the encore of this unexpected night would bring.

The remnants of their passionate kiss lingered in the air as Renee and Y/N pulled away, their eyes locking in a shared moment of realization. A playful grin played on Renee's lips as she looked into Y/N's eyes.

"Feisty," Renee remarked, her voice low and teasing. "But I have a feeling the night is just getting started. How about we continue this at my place, hm?"

Y/N's heart raced at the suggestion, a mix of excitement and curiosity dancing in their eyes. "And why should I be inclined to go, Rapp?"

Renee leaned in, her breath warm against Y/N's ear. "My place isn't too far from here. It's quieter, and we can continue our little encore without any interruptions."

A sly smile tugged at Y/N's lips. "Should I be concerned?"

Renee chuckled, her fingers lightly tracing Y/N's jawline. "Only if you can't handle a little adventure. Besides, it's just a short cab ride away. What do you say?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the magnetic pull between them undeniable. "Lead the way, Rapp. Let's see what kind of encore you have in mind."

As they exited the bathroom, the party continued to buzz around them, oblivious to the clandestine connection that had formed. Renee intertwined her fingers with Y/N's, leading them through the crowd with an air of confidence. The night held the promise of something unpredictable, and neither of them could resist the allure of what awaited at Renee's house.

Outside, the city lights shimmered, casting a romantic glow on the streets. Renee hailed a cab, and as they slid into the backseat, the anticipation grew. The ride was filled with stolen glances and the lingering heat of their earlier encounter.

Arriving at Renee's apartment, the door closed behind them, sealing the promise of a night filled with passion and shared secrets. As they stepped into the dimly lit space, the chemistry between Renee and Y/N ignited once again, setting the stage for an encore that would be remembered long after the final curtain fell.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Renee couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She pressed Y/N against it, her hands sliding up their waist and pulling them closer. Y/N let out a gasp, their hands gripping onto Renee's shoulders as they looked up at her with hunger in their eyes.

Renee kissed down their neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin and earning a moan from Y/N's lips. She had always been fascinated by the way someone's reactions could change when she kissed different spots on their body.

"Bedroom" Renee murmured, pulling Y/N by her right hand to Renee's bedroom. Renee pushed Y/N gently onto her bed, their bodies sinking into the soft mattress. She climbed on top of them, her lips never leaving their skin as she kissed and nipped along their jawline, down their neck, and across their collarbone.

Y/N's hands roamed up Renee's back, pulling her closer as they let out soft moans. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the occasional gasp as Renee's lips found new spots to explore.

Renee's hands slid under Y/N's shirt, her fingers trailing over their skin and eliciting shivers from Y/N's body. She leaned in to capture Y/N's lips in a deep kiss, their tongues dancing together in perfect rhythm.

As the kiss intensified, Renee's hand traveled lower until she reached the waistband of Y/N's pants. She paused for a moment, silently asking for permission before continuing. Y/N responded by arching into her touch and pulling her even closer.

Their clothes were soon discarded in a frenzy of passion, each touch sending sparks through their bodies. They explored each other with an urgency that couldn't be contained any longer.

With each passing moment, the intensity between Renee and Y/N only grew stronger. They were lost in each other, their bodies moving together in a perfect rhythm.

Renee's lips trailed down Y/N's chest, leaving a trail of kisses and bites along the way. She stopped to pay special attention to their breasts, kneading them roughly as she attached her lips to one of Y/N's nipples.

Y/N let out a gasp, their hands gripping onto Renee's hair as they arched into her touch. The sensation was overwhelming, causing them to moan loudly and lose themselves in the pleasure.

As Renee continued to lavish attention on Y/N's body, her hand traveled down between their legs. She ran a finger through Y/N's folds, teasing them with gentle strokes before delving deeper.

Y/N's hips bucked against her hand, their breath coming in short gasps as they became lost in pleasure. Renee slipped two fingers into them, increasing the pressure and speed until Y/N was writhing beneath her.

The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and heavy breathing as they moved together in perfect harmony. Renee knew exactly how to touch Y/N to drive them wild, and she took great pleasure in doing so.

Their eyes met for a moment before Y/N leaned down to capture Renee's lips in a passionate kiss. Their bodies moved together with a newfound urgency, both desperate for release.

Renee moved Y/N up the bed with no resistance from them. She trailed kisses and gentle bites down their body until she reached their thighs. Gently, she hiked their legs up onto her shoulders, exposing them completely to her.

Y/N let out a gasp as Renee's lips found a particularly sensitive spot on their inner thigh, sending shivers through their body. They could feel the heat building between their legs as Renee continued to leave a trail of kisses and bites along their thighs.

Without warning, Renee's tongue darted out and flicked over Y/N's clit, causing them to cry out in pleasure. She continued to work her tongue expertly on Y/N's most sensitive area, alternating between soft licks and hard sucking motions.

Y/N's hands gripped onto the sheets as waves of pleasure washed over them. They were completely at Renee's mercy, lost in the sensations coursing through their body.

As Renee continued to pleasure Y/N with her mouth, her hand slipped upwards to find its way inside of them once again. She worked her fingers in perfect rhythm with her tongue, driving Y/N closer and closer to the edge.

With one final thrust of her fingers and a flick of her tongue, Renee brought Y/N over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm. They cried out in ecstasy as they rode out the waves of pleasure coursing through their body.

Renee didn't stop there though. She continued to kiss and lick at Y/N's sensitive areas, prolonging their pleasure until they couldn't take it anymore.

Finally, when Y/N was spent and breathless from their release, Renee made her way back up their body to capture their lips in a deep kiss once again. Their bodies were still humming with energy as they kissed each other passionately.

Renee's body was still humming with pleasure from Y/N's expert touch, but she couldn't resist the invitation in their words. "Let me make you feel good, Renee," they murmured, their voice filled with desire.

With a lazy smile, Renee shifted over to give Y/N more space on the bed. She watched as they trailed a hand down her naked body, causing shivers to run down her spine.

Their lips found hers in a sloppy kiss as their hand continued its journey downwards. Renee gasped into their mouth as their fingers brushed against her sensitive skin.

Without hesitation, Y/N slipped their hand between Renee's legs, finding her wet and ready for them. They rubbed her clit gently before slipping a finger inside of her. Renee moaned into the kiss as pleasure shot through her body. They knew exactly how to touch her, and she could feel herself getting lost in the sensations.

Their kiss became more urgent as Y/N added another finger, thrusting them in and out of her with perfect rhythm. She could feel the heat building within her once again, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she reached the edge.

Y/N broke the kiss and looked into Renee's eyes with a mischievous grin. "Do you want me to make you cum baby?" they murmured against Y/N's lips.

Renee let out a pathetic yes, unable to form any sentences as pleasure consumed her body. Y/N leaned down to capture one of their nipples in their mouth, sucking on it gently while their fingers continued to work their magic between her legs.

It didn't take long before Renee was crying out in pleasure, waves of ecstasy washing over her body. She clung onto Y/N tightly as she rode out the intense orgasm that had been building within her.

As Renee came down from her high, she pulled Y/N up to her level and captured their lips in a passionate but lazy kiss. She could taste herself on their lips and it only added to the feeling of intimacy between them.

Renee reached over to grab a discarded blanket from the floor and pulled it over them, covering their naked bodies. She held Y/N close to her, enjoying the warmth and closeness.

"God, that was amazing," Y/N murmured against her lips, still catching their breath.

Renee smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of Y/N's face. "You were amazing," she whispered back.

They fell into a comfortable silence, content with just being in each other's arms. Renee couldn't remember the last time she had felt so relaxed.

Eventually, they drifted off into a peaceful sleep, their limbs intertwined and breathing in sync.

#renee rapp #renee rapp x reader #the sex lives of college girls #leighton murray #leighton murray x reader #lgbtq #mean girls #regina george x reader #wlw #lesbian

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babyur2nice · 4 months

Text

▎night walks with felix

౨ৎ synopsis: you’re stressed out from exams and decide to pay felix a visit.

—————————————————————————

you sigh, tears blurring your vision as you struggle through another problem on your economics homework. no matter how much effort you put in, you can’t seem to make any progress in understanding the material. having been working for the past six hours, you’re also exhausted. with the exam just two days away you’ve scarcely allowed yourself a break to eat, decisions that are now catching up to you as you struggle to focus.

after 10 minutes, you can’t take it anymore. it’s late and you know your body won’t allow you to study anymore, yet you still feel guilty giving in. you close you textbook, the tears starting flow as the stress overtakes your body.

your brain almost immediately jumps to your boyfriend felix, wishing he was there to hold you and tell you that everything would be alright. you glance down at your alarm clock on your desk. 12:37, it reads. you sit with your head in your hands trying to decide whether he’d be awake.

against your better judgement, you take the all too familiar walk downstairs to felix’s room and knock softly on his door, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep. you don’t hear anything at first and then you hear rustling and a moment later the door cracks open revealing felix, in nothing more than his blue and white striped pajama pants rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

he looks at you and your puffy eyes, face shifting quickly to express a look of concern. “what’s happened, what’s wrong” he asks, pulling you inside and shutting the door.

“it’s stupid, shouldn’t have woken you up, ‘m sorry” you sniffle, the tears flowing all over again at the fact that you had disturbed his sleep.

“no no, none of that doll” felix says taking your face in his hands, “its not stupid if it’s making you upset, tell me what’s wrong so i can make it better”

another sob shakes your body as felix cringes, hating seeing you in pain, and pulls you into his chest. he places his hand on the back of your head petting your hair gently as you tell him about your exam and the stress you’ve been feeling.

he listens exceptionally well, not interrupting you once as he holds you against his body, letting you expel your frustrations. “im sorry doll” he says when you finish. “im glad you came to me, you needed a break”

you nod against his chest, as you slowly catch your breath.

“let’s go for a walk yeah?” felix asks. “always helps me clear my head”

“don’t you want to go back to sleep?” you ask, guilt once again taking over as you remember that he had been fast asleep prior to your arrival.

“nonsense” he says kissing the top of your head. “im already up, why waste a perfectly good night? here.” he says as he pulls two sweaters out of his closet passing one to you. “put this on, don’t want you to catch a cold out there”

you smile at him gratefully as you pull the sweater over your head. once it’s on, felix reaches down to brush a loose strand of hair out of your eyes. “so pretty” he mumbles almost to himself before taking your hand in his and leading you out of the dorm and into the refreshingly cool night.

“where are we going” you ask.

felix looks down at you with a smile. “somewhere amazing” he says. he leads you across campus and into town, all the while telling jokes and stories meant to lighten your spirit.

“just a bit farther now doll” he grins as he leads you down an alley way. “we’re going to need to climb, can you do that for me?”

you nod and felix smiles at you in return “good girl.”

he beckons you towards the side of a building and the ladder attached to it. “just up here, follow me” he says as he begins to scale the ladder. he reaches the top quickly and helps pull you up after him.

you stand up and look around, letting out a little gasp. you can see everything from up here; your dorm, the pub, the library, the lake and most impressively, the moon.

felix walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “it’s beautiful right? i discovered it last year and have been coming here ever since”

“it’s amazing” you say.

“you’re the first person i’ve ever brought up here” he admits. “it was mine but i suppose it’s ours now” he grins while sitting down.

you sit down next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as he continues. “seeing everything from up here always reminds me how small i am, how small my problems are”

he wraps his arm around you, rubbing circles on your back. “you could fail your exam and none of this would change. everything would still be here, we’d both still be here, and i’d still love you. i know you won’t fail of course” he adds with a chuckle.

“felix, thank you” you say, struggling to find words to express just how much he means to you.

“glad i could help doll” he says. “i love you so much, and i promise i’ll help you study tomorrow, yeah?”

you hum in agreement as you press your body closer to felix’s as the two of you look across the town shrouded in moonlight, both knowing that this rooftop would become a sacred space for the both of you.

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #felix catton drabble #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #jacob elordi #saltburn #saltburn x reader #jacob elordi x reader

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whalesforhands · 9 months

Note

Please please satosugu sharing y/n giving her load after load

sometimes asks like this remind me i’m supposed to be an 18+ blog. i can feel my future self regretting adding to the growing amt of stsg porn in the tags

warnings: bully au, unprotected p in v, fem!reader, established satosugu bcs i love them, dubcon, obsessiveness but it’s the bad kind, minors DNI istg i will quit writing forever and take this blog down with me

“W-wait…!” You’re already crying, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder as the other plants itself on his hip, attempting to stop his movements and your further descent into overstimulation.

“I-I need a break…” You’re panting, breathless and boneless as the sweat on your body and haziness of your brain finally starts getting to you,

“Ehhh?” Gojo’s pulling you in closer by your waist when he feels you try to buck your hips away, sheathing his hard cock deep back inside your weeping hole as you let out a whine at the sensation.

He’s too spoiled. Too mean to let you go now.

“You tired? Want a break?” He’s leaning forward, blue eyes and cute pout all up in your face when he feels you clench tighter around him.

You nod fervently, teary gaze and gem-like eyes pointed towards him, letting him intertwine his big hands with yours oh so intimately. As if he loves you, as if he sees you as more than just his bedwarmer. He’s finally showing you mercy.

He slows to a stop, finally letting you take a shaky breath in before he pulls out all the way, a combination of Geto’s and his own spend starting to leak out. He leaves only the head of his pretty cock notching itself at your entrance, letting you relax into the bed and seeing your shoulders begin to droop from sheer exhaustion.

Before he rams the entirety of it back in, ignoring your squeals and squirms, your cries of pained pleasure.

“N-no!” Thrust. “G-gojo please!” Thrust. You’re starting to cry again, hold on his hands letting go to push at his chest lightly, the pleasure and lust overtaking your overtaxed body.

“Just kidding~, whores like you should just sit there and take cocks in this tight cunt of yours like an obedient slut.”

Suguru’s been watching all this while as he watches his boyfriend have his way with you, his hand vigorously stroking his own phallus, watching intently as your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, tongue beginning to loll out as Satoru’s unrelenting pace fucked you stupid.

“Hey, pull out. I’m gonna cum.” His hand is holding onto his painfully hard cock as he watches the way your tears fall, your sweaty face streaked in your overstimulated pleasure and helplessness as you simply take what you’re given.

He wants to add to your ruin.

“Hah? Just do it on her somewhere, I’m busy.” Gojo accentuated his words with a harsh buck of his hips, using a hand to hold both of yours down as the other rubs at your quivering clit.

His thrusts are speeding up, your whines and moans echoing throughout his bedroom as you cry and cry and cry, reaching your climax for the nth time that night, cumming onto his already drenched cock.

He lets out a pleasured grunt, “You fucking slut…!” His words are barely breathed out as he starts to cum, spurts of familiar white hot liquid making you twitch as you let out a quiet moan at the sensation, your legs thrown over his shoulders as you tremble and shake.

It’s finally over, right? But… he’s not pulling out, only reaching a hand up to your cheek to pat your worn out self as he grins, wrapping your legs around his waist as he starts to pick you up.

When… Did Suguru get behind you?

“If you’re not gonna pull out, I might as well join in, shouldn’t I?”

You feel a prodding at your already abused hole, a second cock sliding inbetween your filled pussy and against Satoru’s now sensitive dick.

Oh no.

#jjk smut #satosugu x reader #cyh au #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader

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xfiddlin-fishsticsx · 10 days

Text

Robin woke up slowly, he blinked through the green and opened his eyes to a warmly lit room, as he looked around he realized it was a library, and from the little couch he was asleep on it seemed endless. He got up off the couch and stretched, aiming to explore further, when he was hit with a sharp pain between his eyes, he vision went blurry and dark for a moment before it cleared up and he suddenly remembered where he was.

This was his library, his lair. He had died and now he lived here, he knew he had died so why did it feel so wrong? He began to walk around, eventually finding the door that led to his personal area, the rest of the library was public.

He looked in the mirror he had in the room and usually it was nice to see the Robin suit, clean and undamaged, but now it just felt…off, wrong somehow, like he wasn’t supposed to be wearing it.

He heard a door open and shut somewhere and soft, clicky footsteps that made him feel fuzzy and his head swim with familiarity. He cautiously slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him and walking back through the shelves until he saw him and froze.

Standing in front of him was a tall young man, he had soft features and kind, tired, eyes that seemed to glow softly. His hair was a celestial white and he was dressed like royalty. Maybe he was royalty. Robin felt another burst of pain as he tried to remember who this was.

When his vision refocused the man was closer, and looking at him like there was something very sad happening, Robin wasn’t sure why he was so sad but he wanted him to stop. There wasn't anything sad here.

“Jason.” The man spoke softly, he had a nice voice, smooth and sad. Why did that name make his head hurt again? Was that his name? Robin figured it was.

The man walked closer to him, and the logical part of Robin’s brain was telling him not to let the unknown man get any closer, however the rest of him was buzzing with warmth and safety. He knew he knew this man, he just couldn’t remember why, he felt familiar in a way that said he wasn’t someone Robin knew in life, but someone he knew in death.

The man stopped in front of him and kneeled down, cupping Robin’s face with his pretty hands, his rings felt cool againt his cheeks and Robin felt safer than he had in probably a long time. It was nice. He liked this man.

But he was looking at him all sad again and he didn’t like that.

“Jason, you’re not supposed to be here”

Robin pulled back slightly, of course he was meant to be here! It was his lair.

“This is my lair, where else am I supposed to be? Who even are you?”

The man smiled softly and moved his hands to robins shoulders, “I know this is your lair, but you’re not supposed to be here right now, you’ve still got a while before you’re supposed to be back here again, you have to go back Jay. They need you.”

Robin didn’t understand, he was dead, he couldn’t ‘go back’

“Please Jace, don’t you see how this is wrong, you’re not Robin anymore, you haven’t been for a while now, this isn't right. They’ve done something to you and I’m sorry I can’t do much more than try to remind you but your family needs help, as much as I miss you, you have to go.”

Rob— Jason felt himself drifting, to where he didn’t know but it was probably wherever the man was telling him to go, he didn’t want to, it was nice here, and he wanted to see the man again, would he get to see him again?

“I promise I’ll come check on you soon, but right now I need you to let go Jason, you’ll see me soon and your lair will always be here waiting for you. Now please, go. I love you, I’ll see you on the other side ok?”

Jason nodded slightly and the man kissed his forehead as everything faded back to black.

——————————

Jason woke up in pain, his head was pounding and his vision was blurry, he couldn’t hear anything but he knew he was mad, he was always mad though wasn't he? The pain finally subsided and his vision began to clear. Something felt wrong, so very wrong, his head was swimming and his body was on fire, itchy, it felt like he was being held under water.

As he got more awareness back he realized his body was moving without him, as his brain slowly caught up he realized he was likely being mind controlled, or possibly possessed? Whatever it was was an invasion of privacy and Red Hood wanted the feeling gone.

So he pulled from the only constant in his life, the rage. The anger that sat deep in his chest and ate away at him but by bit everyday, he pushed and fought against the force holding him down but it wasn’t enough, he let the green take over to try and push the unknown control out of his mind and body, but he only succeeded when his mid suddenly cleared to the image, the memory of a pretty boy with sad, bright, neon green eyes looking up at him.

He burst through the control and finally felt like he could breathe again, his vision was still green and slowly going dark.

He was prepapred to be consumed, to go on a rampage no less damaging than when someone else was in control.

But nothing came, he just froze, his vision stayed green but his body stopped, he felt himself collapse to ground and began to recognize the pain blooming in his limbs and chest.

Everything felt fuzzy and numb until a hand rested on his shoulder.

He followed the hand up an arm to— B, Batman. His dad.

His vision was slipping and his head still pounded, he tried to tell Bruce that he was going to pass out but nothing was coming out of his mouth intelligibly.

Jason felt himself lose control of his body and lurch forward, Bruce’s arms came around him before he could hit the floor and the last thing Jason knew before he fully blacked out was that he was safe. His dad had him.

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Just a little snippet/wip of something I’ve been working on! This is just the first little half of the first chapter!!

#dp x dc #danny phantom #jason todd #danny fenton x jason todd #ghost king danny #wip #snippet #sneak peak #?#dead on main

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gisellaswrld · 4 months

Text

i’m at a loss of words even looking at you; no pain could ever reach how it felt when you twisted the knife.

jh86 | traveling to michigan due to the loss of your father sucked. especially when a familiar face longed to speak to you.

The passing of your father was sudden, unexpected really. The last time you seen him-- a few months ago-- he was perfectly fine. A week ago, your mom called you stating he had fallen really ill. A few days after, she announced his passing to the family.

You made the unfortunate flight to Michigan, having to take your second semester finals earlier to be able to make it to Michigan. Luckily, all your professors were willing to allow you to take them early.

Being in Michigan brought a dark gloom over your head. Of course, it was mostly due to your father's passing, but the last time you were in Michigan, it didn't end well.

Last summer, you were in an on-and-off situationship with your long-term best friend Jack Hughes. At first, it was great. You had the ability to brag that you were the one Jack was fucking at night, you were the girl that Jack had his arm around at the party of the night.

Until you fell for him, something that was easy to do. Jack had charm, his game with women was off the charts. You knew he had a way with getting women to fall easily for him. Before you agreed to the friends with benefits deal, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t fall in love — but you did.

Instead of effectively communicating your feelings to Jack and dealing with the rejection, you ghosted him when you went back to school. You expected him to reach out to you, but instead you got nothing from him. In the end, you thought that hurt worse than rejection ever could.

You stood in front of the mirror that hung on the door to your childhood bedroom. Smoothing out the black dress, you sucked in a deep breath. You were sure Ellen and Jim would be at the visitation. You just were unsure if they forced their three sons to join along.

A soft knock pulled you from your thoughts. You opened the door to see your mother, her eyes clearly swollen from her late night sobbing.

“Are you ready, honey?” Her hoarse voice spoke. You gave her a sincere smile. You knew your mother was in a lot of pain. After all, she lost her husband — the love of her life. You were upset about your father’s passing, but your mother was just completely empty of any emotion besides grief.

“Yeah, I just need to grab my purse. I’ll be right down.” You replied, voice quiet. Your mother nodded, shutting the door to your room. Seeing your mother in this deep of pain hurt you beyond words could explain.

You reached for your purse that was slung on the desk chair, accidentally knocking a few things over. “Shit-“ You grumbled, trying to gather them. You noticed a small note that was hidden behind the old clutter on your desk.

Good Luck in Maine, Stevie. I’ll miss you while you’re gone! - Jack

The familiar — yet unfamiliar — nickname made your stomach turn. It came from your undying love for Stevie Nicks in middle school. When you and Jack would walk home after school, the sound of Fleetwood Mac was always playing from your speaker. Jack turned that into a nickname for you.

You had been wondering why listening to Fleetwood Mac had been making you upset recently, the note just clicked a few buttons in your brain to remind you.

You crumbled the post-it note into your hand, tossing it somewhere in your room. With a huff, you grabbed your purse and left the room. Your family had been waiting downstairs. Evelyn, your younger sister, had a blank expression on her face due to the grief. Your older brother looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well.

You were the epitome of a mourning family.

Your mom drove everyone to the funeral home, it was an hour before the visitation started. Your mother wanted to ensure the visitation room was prepped like how she wanted it.

The visitation room made your heart twist and ache. There were photos of your dad scattered everywhere. Family photos, old prom pictures, even pictures of him attached to a telephone pole from his first job were posted.

“Wow,” Your brother commented, his eyes turning glassy quickly. “This is… this is heavy.” He continued, swallowing harshly.

Your eyes quickly connected to a photo. It was of your father and Jim Hughes. They were the best of friends in high school. The photo was of them holding you and Jack when you were babies. You shook your head, rolling the tears out of your eyes.

Soon enough, the visitors started to roll in. They ranged from family to friends and even some of your own peers showed up. You and your brother stayed off to the side, watching as family consoled your mother.

“Surprised Aunt Nancy even showed her face. Last time I check, she was strung out on meth in Illinois.” Your brother scoffed, staring directly at your father’s sister.

“Dad wouldn’t have wanted her here.” You replied, agreeing with him.

Your attention was turned to the family walking in, the Hughes family. All five of them were present, even Jack. Your stomach turned, feeling queasy at the thought of being in his presence.

Jim spotted you and your brother, considering you were off to the side of the crowd. He led his family over.

“I see your mom is caught up with your father’s family?” Jim commented, a sad expression on his face. He lost his high school best friend, the guy he partied with through college, and the guy he purposefully lived next to in Michigan — just so they wouldn’t be apart.

“Nancy is here,” Your brother answered, watching as Jim rolled his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sure this is hard,” Ellen frowned pulling you into a hug. You haven’t cried yet today, but this interaction was pushing you close to your limits.

“It is, but what can you do,” You answered, a small frown forming on your face. Your eyes trailed over to Jack, who was piercingly staring at you. You pulled out of Ellen’s grasp, watching as her and Jim got swept away by your mother.

Quinn was the first to speak up. “So, what happened? Jimmy said it was unexpected.”

You looked over at your brother, knowing you’d be the one to explain the story. “He got admitted to the hospital after he went for a high fever. Turns out he had many malignant tumors in his lungs and bronchus. He passed not too long after.” You sadly answered, your voice nothing short of monotonous.

“Fuck — that’s awful.” Luke sighed, scratching at his head. You and your brother shrugged simultaneously. “It happens.” Your brother responded.

Jack stood quietly behind Quinn, his attention fully devoted to you. Your stomach churned, causing you to become light headed. “I’ll be back,” You whispered to your brother, quickly walking out of the visitation room.

You found the women’s bathroom, quickly slamming open the door. You didn’t have time to lock the door behind you. Your body hunched over the toilet, the contents of your stomach spilling out of your mouth. Your body was shaking due to the exertion. You had a few tears spilling from your eyes, ones that you quickly wiped away.

You flushed the toilet, falling against the bathroom wall. “Of course—“ You commented, your voice quiet.

Slowly, your stood to your feet, standing in front of the mirror that was above the sink. You let out a shuddered breath. You ran the water, gargling some water in your mouth. You spit it out into the sink, feeling some relief.

While leaving the bathroom, you had your head in your purse searching for gum. You felt your body come to a halt as someone grabbed your arm. You found the gum, sliding a piece into your mouth, then looked up to see Jack.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, his hand gripping onto your arm. You looked down, pulling your arm from his grasp. “I’m good.” You confirmed, nodding at him.

“Why didn’t you ever reach out?” He asked, his eyes forming into a glare. You raised your eyebrows, scoffing. “Are you really asking me why I didn’t reach out at my dad’s visitation?” You quickly fired back, watching as his expression changed.

“I just wanted to know, Stevie. That’s all.”

“Don’t call me that.” You stated, turning on your heels to walk away from him. You sucked in a deep breath once back into the visitation room, joining your brother once more.

This is going to be a long week.

You peered out at the sinking sun, watching as night fell onto the town in Michigan. The colder atmosphere chilled the air, unfortunately you didn’t bring a jacket.

The large pier was empty this time of year. There were no tourists to occupy the town, just those who lived here year round. The sound of the water moving and occasional car driving past kept your mind at peace.

This is where you decided you hated Michigan.

A car door could’ve been heard if you weren’t trapped in your mind. The car door could’ve signaled to you that someone would be joining you within moments. It could’ve been a serial killer, or some elderly woman who wants to knit.

Instead, it was Jack.

He sat down next to you on the bench, quietly turning his head to you. “Your brother told me you were here,” Jack spoke, his eyes fixated on you. “I didn’t ask,” You simply replied, voice quiet.

“Do you hate me, or something? I’m lost at how suddenly you just disappeared, and why you did.” Jack blurted, turning his body slightly towards. you.

You shrugged, a small frown forming on your lips.

“Do you regret it? Or did we do something that we shouldn’t have?”

You shook your head, then shrugged once more. You didn’t want to speak to him, let alone be near him.

“Stevie, we were best friends before whatever happened this summer. Your dad just died, and you are like a closed off shell of what you used to be. Why won’t you just talk to me?” Jack pleaded, his eyes starting to water.

As badly as you wanted to explain your feelings, explain how you didn’t want to be one of those girls that he picks up whenever he wants just to throw them away, explain how you didn’t feel like you even compared to his previous girlfriends, or even explain how you fell in love with him, you chose not to.

Simply out of the fact you didn’t want to be one of those girls crying over the fact that Jack Hughes never loved them.

“I don’t want to talk Jack, at all. I just simply want to be alone,” You abruptly stood from the bench, pulling your sleeves over your hands. “Stop trying to get me to talk to you,”

You quickly walked back to your car, then slowed down once you realized he wasn’t following behind you. Once in the safety of your car, you broke down. Sobs racking your body during the whole drive back to your childhood home.

The bar was practically empty at this point of the night. It was two in the morning and you were five drinks deep. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but due to your small tolerance of alcohol, it felt like a lot.

Your mind was running, thoughts swirling quickly through your brain. Frankly, you didn’t know why you haven’t just laid your feelings out on a silver platter to Jack.

You thought back to what he told you on the pier, and he was right. Your friendship had been deeply rooted into your life. It was wrong for you to shut him out like you’ve been. It was out of your own stubbornness, and now you were cursing yourself for it.

You sighed, fishing your phone out of your purse. You signaled for the bartender, asking for her to close you out.

“Hello?” Your brother’s tired voice grumbled through the phone. “Hey, I’m at Joe’s, can you come get me?” You slurred, your head resting against your hand.

“It’s literally two AM, are you serious?” Your brother continued to grumble, his voice becoming more annoyed. “Please?” You pleaded.

After a few moments, hearing him tap at his phone and the ruffling of his sheets. “Jack’s gonna be there in ten to come get you.” Your brother informed. “Stop being rude to him, by the way. He just wants to help.”

You heard the chime of the hang up sound, groaning to yourself. The bartender handed you the debit card that belonged to you, giving you a sincere smile.

After a little while, the door bell chimed, signaling that someone had entered.

“Stevie come on,” Jack muttered, standing behind you. You felt the tension, causing your less than sober state to fill with nerves. You slid off the bar stool, sulking as Jack led you to his car.

Once safety inside, Jack started the drive back.

“Why?” Jack asked, his focus on the road. “Why are you doing this to yourself again?”

“I don’t know, Jack,” You shrugged. Tears started to run down your face, regret filling your body due to your actions.

“You’ve shut me out once before, and you know how that makes me feel. I don’t know why you are doing it again.” Jack continued, his hands gripping onto the wheel tightly.

“I’m sorry, Jack” Your voice shuddered as you spoke, your eyes staring down at your hands.

“And I don’t know if you’ve just been acting like this because you are going through a lot right now, but I just wish you’d talk to me. And drinking — really Stevie — drinking? This is how you are going to work through your pain?”

“I-“ You stuttered, shrugging as you tried to finds words to speak.

“You don’t have to answer now, you’ve been drinking.” Jack stated, pulling into your driveway. You sat in the car, not sure of what to do or say.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” You asked, finally glancing over at him. Jack briefly glanced at you, letting out a sigh. “Yeah, just text me.” Jack replied, nodding. “Bye,” You quietly excused yourself, getting out of his car.

The rest of the night, you laid in bed, thinking of things to tell Jack tomorrow.

Jack sat across from you, nursing a hot black coffee. Your head ached with a never ending headache due to your hangover. You sipped on a iced chai latte, silent.

"Tell me what's going on," Jack requested, breaking the heavy silence with a sentence that made your body flood with anxiety. You wished you never asked him to talk - but you decided that your since your trip was coming to an end soon - it was now or never. Never meaning you would lose your best friend for good.

You attempted to gather words in your brain, opening your mouth to speak but nothing would flow into coherent sentences.

"I really - do you regret this summer? Do you thing it changed anything?" You asked, your mouth running dry with your words.

Jack knit his brows together in confusion, quickly shaking his head. “No, I don’t regret it. Do you?” Jack leaned forward slightly, his voice quiet. “I don’t regret it, but something changed.” You spoke, eyes tearing away from his.

“What changed, Y/N?” Jack’s face flooded with worry. “Because if it’s something I can fix, I want to. I just want my best friend back, I just want you back in my life.”

“That’s the thing, Jack.”

“What? What’s the thing?” Jack’s voice was rushed, his eyes searching your face for any answers. He used to be able to read your expressions like an open book, but now it was like trying to read a locked diary.

“I can’t be your best friend anymore-“ You were quickly cut off.

“What the fuck? Why? Why can’t you be my friend anymore? Because we fucked? I mean, I can see how it would change things but I feel like it-“ You quickly cut him off in return.

“No, Jack. It’s because I fell in love with you.” You harshly stated, eyes quickly locking onto him. You could visibly see a wave of emotion rush over him.

Jack sat in silence, his brain swirling with many thoughts and questions. He was unsure of which one to ask first, to learn about. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You scrunched your face, clasping your hands in your lap. “I’ve known you for how long, Jack? You’ve told me about every girl you’ve brought home, immediately knowing whether or not they’d be a quick hook-up or if it would be more. You’ve told me how many times you’ve ghosted girls over something small they did that threw you off.” You paused, sucking in a deep breath. “I didn’t want to be one of those girls.”

“You never were, Y/N. We have too much past to even make you remotely close to one of those girls.” Jack shook his head, disbelief flooding his brain. Did you really think that he would just drop you?

“Jack, be serious. If we didn’t have the past, if our families weren’t close friends, would I be one of those girls?” You asked, a stoic expression on your face.

Jack shook his head again. “Absolutely not. If you were one of those girls, Y/N, if I even remotely felt like treating you like those girls, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I wouldn’t have kept being around you all summer if you were one of those girls. You just — it was natural — it felt easy to be around you like that,” Jack explained, confessing thoughts in his head he never thought he’d say out loud.

“Why?”

“You are different. Your achievements are far different from how many Instagram followers you have, you have actual goals in life. You never thought of me as some fucking — as #1 draft pick with a 8.8 Million dollar contract — I’ve always just been Jack to you. I’ve always been the kid your parents forced you to hang out with. I’ve never been some celebrity in your brain. You make me feel different.” Jack let out a deep breath after his small speech, his eyes focused on you.

“Jack, I-“

“I’m not finished. You are in school, pursuing fucking politics, Y/N. You spend your nights studying instead of throwing back as much Pink Whitney as you can. Instead of posting sponsorships on social media, you post about your friends, family, achievements. I have always thought you were the smartest girl I’ve known. I always surrounded myself with girls different from you to try to convince myself that it wasn’t right to have feelings for you. Because you don’t deserve to be with a guy who won’t have a career in thirty years, who doesn’t even know what he’s going to do with his life in thirty years.” Jack ran a hand through his tousled hair, moving to anxiously fiddle with the strings to his hoodie.

“I think your monologue was longer than my final paper this semester, no offense.” You spoke, trying to ease the heavy mood. “I — uh — wow. That is a lot to process? Give me a second to think.” You spoke, thinking maybe Jack would actually let you think for a moment.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you since sophomore year of high school. That’s the whole point of that speech or whatever.” Jack stated quickly, clarifying his words.

“So, now what?” You asked, shrugging. “You go back to New Jersey, I go back to Maine, now what?”

“We figure it out. Because, Y/N, seriously. I’ve gone the past five months not speaking to you, and I really can’t go any longer.” Jack frowned, scratching at the small patches of stubble that had been growing.

“We figure it out?” You questioned, waiting for him to confirm his words.

“Yeah, I mean, we’ve figured out ways for you to come to New Jersey for like the past three years. I’m sure it won’t be any less harder, now. You have one semester left at college, then it’s up in the air, yeah? I think we’d be able to figure it out.” Jack nodded, feeling less suffocated that he had previously felt. “Only if you want to though.”

You, on the other hand, were still battling with your internal insecurities. Your lip was tucked between your teeth, biting at the dead skin. “I need to get some air, for a second.” You stood from the chair, heading outside the small coffee shop to think in peace for a moment.

You knew it wouldn’t be hard to figure out. And, you knew Jack would treat you right. He already did so much for you, as a friend. Sending you sweet messages when you were upset, ordering you uber eats when you were up all night studying, the signs were all green.

Yet, the lingering thought of if you were good enough still pounded into your brain like a headache.

You heard the door chime, not realizing they maybe you have been sitting outside for far too long. Jack stood on the side walk, a sad expression plastered on his face.

“Just let me know-“

You stood to your feet, rushing over to him. You placed you hands on his cheeks, planting your lips onto his. Jack hesitated, but soon his hands found your hips, squeezing.

“We’ll figure it out.” You mumbled, watching as his eyes flickered brightly.

“We will figure it out,” Jack nodded, pulling your body against his chest.

You were sure that Jack would do his best to navigate through his life, especially if you were by his side. You knew that Jack would treat you as best as he could, always ensuring you were happy with how the relationship was going. You knew Jack just as well as you knew yourself.

Maybe being back in Michigan wasn’t as bad as you thought it was.

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl blurb #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jackhughes #jack hughes x reader

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hyunjins-orange-slice-too · 1 month

Text

skz catching you reading fan fiction

pairing: idol ot8 x reader

wc: ~5.4k

warnings: lots of reader being embarrassed obv. pet names, hyunjin’s is a tiny bit angsty (sorry), a very brief joking mention of dying in seungmin’s

an: this is a repost from my recently deceased blog hyunjins-orange-slice. may she rest in peace. some of the fanfictions mentioned in this are mine and have been linked. others i just made up. 💕

masterlist

⋆｡‧˚chan˚‧｡⋆

“Come here. Across my lap, princess.” He ordered.

‘oh this is getting good’ you said quietly to yourself. you were in bed, cuddled up under the covers, the only light coming from the screen of your phone. your eyes flashed across the page quickly, needing to find out what happens next. it had clicked in your brain earlier today that there could quite possibly be fan fiction about your boyfriend floating around on the internet somewhere. you were aware of his fame. but that’s not why you’re with him, even though that’s how you met him. you had been together for a while now, and you cursed yourself for not thinking of this sooner. of course there’s fan fiction about him. and even though it makes you cringe in a way, you couldn’t stop yourself from immediately searching for it as soon as you got home. chan is still at the company, always working the long hours, so you were unsure when he would be home. but you assumed it would be late. so you allowed yourself to get lost in the world of stray kids tumblr. you had read a few already, but this one, this one was spicy. you could feel that familiar throb in between your legs.

“Honey..” He said in a surprised tone. “You’re so wet.” He ran his middle finger up your slit, playing in your wetness. He gently prodded your entrance. You moaned quietly against his thigh. “Only a couple more.” He said, then he spanked you again.

you squeezed your thighs together, briefly thinking of grabbing that buzzing friend from the top drawer of your nightstand. but before you could do so, the bedroom door opens. a tired chan enters, setting his bag down. you let out a gasp and clutch your phone against your chest as he looks up at you, suspicion on his face.

"whatcha doin, baby?" he asks.

"uh.. no-nothing." you stammer back. real smooth.

"why are you hiding your phone from me?" he looks a little concerned now as he sits on the bed next to you. he didn’t want to let himself think that you may be romantically talking to someone else. but he couldnt help it. you could read his feelings all over his face. and as embarrassing as it was, you couldnt bare for him to think you were cheating. it’s best that you just tell him the truth.

"i.. i might have been reading a story.. about you. written by a stay." you say, unable to look at him. you stared at the outlet on the wall across from the end of the bed.

he laughed. "fan fiction?!" he exclaimed, laughing even more. your face turned a bright red. "show me. let me see." he said, reaching for your phone.

you held it tighter to your chest. "no!" you argue, pulling away from him.

"cmon baby. let me seeeee." he whined, reaching for your phone again. you held it out of his reach, so he used his not so secret weapon. he started tickling your sides. you immediately screamed in pained laughter and folded your body in on itself and toward him, trying to detach his hands from your skin. he let go, grabbing the phone, and jumping off the bed. he ran to the corner of the room and you sat up on your knees on the bed. you didn’t move any closer, having realized your defeat.

"Good girl baby, suck daddy’s cock, choke on it, you can do it, take it all, that’s my girl…?" he read aloud. his sentence ending in a question, not having thought that the fan fiction you would be reading would be smut. the tips of his ears turned slightly pink, and you covered your face with your hands before he could look at you. "you’re reading a fan fiction called ‘his good girl, always’?" he asked, slightly stunned. but you could hear the amusement returning to his voice. "what does dom daddy chan mean?"

you groaned. "is this what you fantasize about, baby?" he asked but you couldn’t answer him. "look at me, honey."

you shook your head no, still covering your face with your hands. "i said look at me, princess. cmon, be a good girl." an involuntary whimper escaped your lips at that, and you slowly peeked at him over the tips of your fingers. a smirk was on his face, one dimple poking out, his eyes dark with lust. "let’s finish reading this, yeah?"

⋆｡‧˚minho˚‧｡⋆

“hey min?” you called. an answering grunt came from the other room. “could you pass me my phone? soonie is sleeping on my lap.”

you were sure he heard you. you could hear him get up from his desk and walk to the nightstand to get your phone. but that had been a couple minutes ago. what was taking him so long?

"minho?" you called again. he slowly shuffled into the living room, your phone in his hand, his face pointed at the screen. there was a smirk on his face.

oh shit.

you remembered what you had been doing on your phone last. you were sure you fell asleep earlier with tumblr open to the story you were currently reading. you enjoyed reading fan fiction about your boyfriend, though you never wanted to admit that to him. you felt like you might not have a choice in the matter now. you had been caught. he stopped a few feet away from you, still scrolling, his eyes moving back and forth as he read. the smirk on his face only grew as he continued to skim the page.

"min, give me my phone please." you said quietly. he held a finger up, shushing you.

"My cock drunk little slut, takes my cock so good." he read from the screen. "is this what you’re always reading on your phone?" minho asked, finally looking up at you.

you buried your head in your hands, scaring the cat off you lap. "i didn’t know you liked to read fan fiction about me. you have the real me, you know?" he said. "why am i always calling the reader kitten? is that a thing that stay thinks i like?"

you groaned. you could feel him come closer, until he was standing right in front of you. he dropped your phone onto the couch next to you, you could feel it bounce on the cushion. "hello?" he asked. you still couldn’t look at him. your face burned with embarrassment. your whole body burned with embarrassment. he wrapped his hands gently around your wrists and tugged. you let him pull your hands away from your face. he let go of your wrists and then used his fingers to tilt your chin up, so you were facing him. he was grinning, and you couldn’t help but notice the veins running up and down his arms. his arms never failed to make you a mess for him. "is that what you want? for me to call you kitten?" you tried to look away from him, but his grip tightened on your chin. "ah ah." he scolded. "answer me."

"i- it’s- um.. it’s something that i’ve thought about.." you admit. his thumb moved to gently stroke your cheek.

"you should have just told me that." he says, sweetly. "you want me to manhandle you too, like in that story? want me to use toys and eat my cum from your pussy?" his thumb has made its way to your lips now. gently rubbing back and forth before pressing into your mouth. you wrapped your lips around the digit, running your tongue around it.

"mmhmm" you mumbled around his finger.

"i think that can be arranged.. kitten." he purred.

⋆｡‧˚changbin˚‧｡⋆

you were sat in the corner of the room, butt on this hard ass wooden bench, swallowed by your boyfriends hoodie, face buried in your phone. changbin had begged for you to go to the gym with him today, and so you agreed. he’s so cute when he pouts and puffs his little cheeks out. but you had no intention of working out with him. you just said you would come. so he’s working out while you watch from the sidelines. and oh boy you could watch him work out for hours. he was currently doing the bench press? bench pressing? he was laying down on the bench thingy and pushing up on the bar thingy with the heavy thingies on the ends. chan was spotting him but changbin didn’t need it. he was all sweaty and yummy. so buff. were you drooling? see this is why you were looking so intently at your phone. if you watched him work out for too long, you got all soft and gooey and you didn’t want that. but looking at your phone wasn’t helping either. in fact, tumblr may be making your situation worse. but you couldn’t look away. not when there was a detailed fan fiction in front of you about your boyfriend. you were just reading it at first because it interested you. you know, for science. did they describe him correctly? did they get his size right? you were surprised to find out that the stories were actually pretty accurate. so then you kept reading. and now your 8 thousand words deep in a slow burn smut fic about him and you just so happened to get to the good part while you were in the gym with him. fuck. your body started getting hot. you stretched and removed your hoodie from your body. you kept scrolling, the content getting spicier and spicier. he was doing what with his tongue? holy shit why hasn’t he ever done that to you in real life?

"are you hot baby?" his voice pulled you from your fantasy land and startled a jump out of you.

"ah!" you exclaimed. you held your phone close to your chest, your cheeks burning up and flushing red. he was standing in front of you, sweaty. his black muscle shirt sticking to his body. he wiped the sweat from his face with a small white towel. your mouth filled with saliva at the sight of him. you forcibly swallowed before answering him. "uh.. yeah i got a little warm." you tell him.

"are you okay? you seem a little flustered." he sits down next to you on the bench. he chuckles to himself. "you know, you’re acting like you usually do when i’m teasing you."

your face and body were on fire. you looked down at the floor, at the wall, anywhere but at changbin. your silence must have been loud.

"baby?" he reaches for your arm. you flinch at the contact, not out of fear, but out of desire. you were in the gym and you were so embarrassed. you couldn’t have him touch you at all, not even on the arm. your phone clattered to the floor, having lost your grip when you flinched. you immediately reached for it, but changbin beat you to it. and of course, just your luck, he glances at the screen as he hands it back to you. "what’s this baby? what’re you reading?" he skims the page some more. "those are some naughty words.." he says, quieter this time. you try to take the phone from him but he moves it out of your reach, continuing to read. "this is about me?" he says a little too loud.

"bin, give me my phone back please." you say, reaching for it. he hands it over.

"sure baby. i didn’t know you liked to read fan fiction about me." he was smirking at you. clearly poking fun. "and it was dirty fan fiction too. baby. i didn’t know you were so naughty." he chuckles.

"binnie.. please don’t. i’m flustered enough as it is."

"was the story that good?" he asks, serious now.

you nod. "it’s pretty good, yeah. and we’re here in the gym and you’re all sweaty and muscly and i’m about to loose it, bin."

he outright laughs now. "okay baby. let’s get you home and you can tell me about your story." he stands and takes your hand, leading you out to the car.

⋆｡‧˚hyunjin˚‧｡⋆

"You are so beautiful, baby.” He said, stroking your cheek. “Such a pretty girl, about to suck her daddys cock.” You could feel your panties getting wet. “Open.” He ordered.

you absentmindedly rubbed your thighs together, trying to get any friction you could, so absorbed in the story you currently had open. you were in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, your elbows on the countertop. you eyes were glued to the screen. you were in the kitchen to make some dinner. you were hungry and you knew hyunjin would be home soon and probably would want something to eat as well. but now your hunger for food was long forgotten as a hunger for something else took over your mind. you didn’t even hear hyunjin put his key in the lock and open the door. he kicked his shoes off and dropped his bag, but you had no idea. one hand was against your mouth, the other hand had a death grip on your phone, thumb scrolling away at the text. hyunjin approached from behind, a little entertained that you hadn’t noticed him, and curious about what has you so focused. he peeks over your shoulder to glance at your phone.

The image of him above you may as well have been holy. It was holy to you. He was a god, and you worshipped him as such. “Fuuuck, baby.” He moaned, breathlessly.

he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, scaring the daylights out of you. you jumped, dropping your phone, it clatters noisily onto the counter.

"what are you reading, angel?" he asks softly against your neck. he places a small kiss there.

"nothing." you lie quickly.

"didn’t seem like nothing." he hummed against your skin. "seemed kinda dirty. can i see?" he reaches around you for your phone and you don’t stop him. you know that you will never win an argument against hwang hyunjin. his long fingers close around the device, and he stands straight as he brings it to his face to look. you straighten as well, but you don’t turn to face him. you don’t want to see the look on his face when he sees what you’ve been reading.

"are you reading smut about me?" he asks. when you don’t answer, out of embarrassment, he gently grabs your shoulder and turns you around. "is this fan fiction?" you slowly nod your head, not looking at him, trying to understand his tone. he sounded upset.

"are you unhappy with our relationship?" he asks. that startles you to attention. you look up at him, his eyes filled with sadness.

"what? no, jinnie. absolutely not."

"then why are you reading this, if not to get something that you crave?" he argues. "am i not fulfilling your needs?"

"no. you are. i just—"

"i don’t understand why you would need to read this, unless you’re unhappy with me." he cuts you off. "especially smut. if i’m not satisfying you sexually, then we need to talk about that."

"that’s not it." you tell him. "i started reading it while you were away on tour because i missed you so badly. and some of it is actually.. good. so now, when i miss you and want to picture different scenarios about you, i’ll read some. i promise it has nothing to do with our relationship. it’s just fun to read what stay writes about you. and that one i was reading just now.. is pretty hot.." your cheeks flush. "i was actually going to bring it up with you to see if maybe you wanted to try something like that.." you look down at your hands, twirling your fingers together.

"you promise? if there’s something wrong, i can’t fix it unless you tell me about it." he says, holding you by the shoulders.

"i promise."

he’s smiling down at you now. "well then i guess let’s see what you’ve been reading. i saw you rubbing your thighs together, it must have been good to get you all hot and bothered like that." he starts reading the screen again. his smile grew the more he read. "so.. the part that you like.. is it the face fucking? or the daddy/princess dynamics?" he asks, seriously. but you feel it straight in your core. your panties sticking to your skin.

"i kinda like all of it.." you say quietly.

he sets the phone back down on the counter and brings his hand up to stroke your cheek. you noticed he was still a little sweaty from practice, and that only made you wetter. he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your mouth, his lips so plump and soft. he pulls away only an inch or so and then says against your lips, "well then get on your knees, princess."

⋆｡‧˚jisung‧｡⋆

"hey sungie, could you grab my phone?" you ask, just getting out of the shower, wrapping the towel around your torso and reaching for your comb.

"sure." he pauses whatever game he was playing and gets up to retrieve your phone from the bed for you. when he grabs it, he looks at the text filled screen. it only takes a moment for him to read the words.

‘that’s it baby, you like it when i ride your cock like this?’ ‘yes mommy.’

he felt his cock twitch in his pants, and his ears flame with heat at the same time. he drops the phone back on the bed and turns around and leaves the room immediately without saying anything to you.

"sungie?" you look after him, worriedly. you drop your comb and follow him into the living room. he’s pacing back and forth in front of the couch, biting on his thumb nail. "what’s wrong?" you ask. he doesn’t answer you. he just keeps pacing back and forth. you wonder what the heck has gotten into him. you return to your bedroom and grab your phone from where it was laying on the cover. you look at the screen. that fan fiction you had been reading was still open. oh no. was he freaked out that you were reading this? you’d never told him about it because you thought it might freak him out, and maybe you were right. you returned to the living room. han was sitting on the edge of the couch now, a blank stare on his face, his mind a million miles away.

"did you read what was on my phone?" you ask him.

he looks up at you, startled. "uh yeah, i did. i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to read it, it was just open and a couple words jumped out at me and i couldn’t help but read them but i promise i wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything it was an accident, i-" he was rambling.

"sungie, it’s okay." you cut him off. i don’t mind that you looked at it. i have nothing to hide. especially from you." you smile at him.

he looks back down at his hands, silent yet again.

"did you want to talk about it?" you asked. "do you have any questions?" you walked over and sat next to him on the couch. he leaned back, throwing his head over the back of the couch dramatically, his eyes shut. you noticed his hands were covering the tent in his pants. so he must have liked what he read you thought.

"it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it right now. i can go back to the bathroom and we can talk about it after you’ve had time to think." you move to stand from the couch but han grabs your wrist. you look at him, his eyes wide.

"you were reading fan fiction about me?" he asked quietly. you nodded at him. "and you like to read that stuff?"

"i do." you answer him. "is that okay with you?"

he nods slowly, still thinking pretty hard about something.

"what do you like about them?" he asks.

"i just like to imagine different scenarios about you. especially when you’re gone on tour and i miss you. but i must admit, i’m pretty partial to subby jisung." you tell him, smirking. you loved to tease him. his face flushed a bright pink at your words.

"what’s subby jisung like?"

"well," you start, placing your hand on his thigh. "subby jisung is very needy, and whiny. he just can’t help it, he wants the reader so bad."

he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to adjust his pants discreetly, but he fails.

"do you like the thought of that?" you tease. "did you like what you saw? the reader in that story was riding subby jisung as he begged. is that what’s got you hard?"

he shook his head no.

"then what was it?" you ask. he removes his hands from his front, fully exposing his erection to you, only hidden by his sweatpants. he makes grabby hands at you, and you smile. you stand up from the couch and drop your towel to the floor, fully naked in front of him. "what do you want, sungie? what did you read that you liked so much?"

"mommy.." he said quietly.

"what was that?" you say, teasing him some more. you loved it when he got like this. all soft and shy. you leaned down and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants, clinging tightly to his small waist. you tugged them down and off him completely, his cock standing at attention.

"mommy.." he said a little louder. "please.."

"please what?"

"ride me, mommy. please." he begged. and how could you say no to that?

⋆｡‧˚felix‧｡⋆

you were both on the couch, facing each other, your legs tangled together. felix was playing a game on his switch and you were scrolling tumblr. it didn’t take long after you found the fic for you to start rubbing your thighs together. you “accidentally” brushed your foot against felix’s pants.

“hey angel, be careful where you’re kicking.” he giggles, never taking his eyes off the screen.

“sorry lixie.” you say softly, trying to hide the neediness in your voice. apparently you failed, because felix put his game down and looked up at you.

“what’s the matter, flower?”

you just shake your head no, still staring down at your phone.

“did you watch that maniac fan cam of me again? baby i know you like the ending fairy but im literally sitting right here. i couldn’t even perform because i was injured.”

that makes you smile a little. you do really love that performance. it’s his smile at the end. but no, you were wet from something else this time. “no, that’s not it.” you tell him.

“then what?”

you just shyly hold out your phone to him. he gently takes it from you and skims the words on the screen quickly. “oh. fan fiction? i’ve read this one actually. it’s pretty good but i wouldn’t say it’s my favorite one.”

you look at him, shocked. “you’ve read that one?”

“yeah i think changbin and i read this one together actually.” he laughs. “i try to stay away from the smut, because it’s a little weird to read that about yourself you know? but occasionally one will pop up and i’ll look it over.” he hands the phone back to you.

“pop up? pop up where?” you’re still shocked, mouth hanging open.

“on my tumblr.” he says matter of factly. “my favorite ones are the fake text ones. the unhinged ones where im sending funny memes.” he’s laughing again and you’re just looking at him. his beautiful face and you’re just in awe of him. of course this man would read his own fan fiction. he’s chronically online. “so.. are you going to tell me what you read that got you all bothered?”

“uh.. i just thought it was hot.. you know?” you say quietly, unable to meet his gaze.

“you like the thought of sucking me off while im playing games online? isn’t that what that one is about?”

you nod slowly.

“you just like the idea of sucking me off? or is it the thought of han or jeongin hearing you on the other side?”

you groan, grinding your hips into nothing. “lixie..” you whine.

“what, angel? i’m just trying to understand you.” he teases. he moves to climb on top of you, your back against the couch cushions, him hovering above you, caging your head with his arms. “do you want to talk about it some more?” he leans in closer. “or do you want to maybe act out your favorite fan fiction with me?” he places a gentle kiss on your lips and you’re lost. nothing exists but him.

⋆｡‧˚seungmin˚‧｡⋆

what choices had you made in life to bring you to this point? alone, in bed, one hand in your pants and the other hand gripping your phone, tumblr open. your favorite seungmin fic filling the screen. you had started reading fan fiction about him, and you weren’t proud of it. you just wanted him so badly. and if you were going to fantasize about him, might as well have some help from the internet, right? maybe you were just trying to make yourself feel better. you had known seungmin for a little while now. you have had a crush on him for just as long. it might even be more than a crush if you’re being honest with yourself. ever since you moved into the dorms, you’ve had some huge heart eyes for the guy. but he’s so intimidating. you were scared to ever talk to him. so here you were, hand down your pants, alone at the dorms, moaning his name.

“fuck. seungmin. yes.” you moan to yourself. maybe you were being a little too loud. but you didn’t care. no one was home, and it felt too good. your fingers making sloppy wet sounds as you pumped them in and out. the mental image of him above you had you right on the edge of release. when suddenly.. there’s a knock on the door.

shit.

what the fuck do you do in this situation? you yanked your hand out of your pants so fast, and pulled the blanket up over your head like there was someone actually in the room with you to hide from. you held your breath. trying to be as quiet as possible. after a minute or two, there it was again, the knocking.

“i know you’re in there.” he said. seungmin. you would know his voice anywhere. you’ve been obsessed with it for months now. “are you decent? i’m coming in.” he warns. and before you have time to panic about that, the door cracks open and seungmin sticks his beautiful head inside. he looks around and sees that your hiding under the covers. he walks in and sits on the edge of the bed.

“so.” he starts. “i think we should probably talk about that.” he pokes at what he thinks is your leg, but he can’t be sure. you’re just a pile of blankets. you pull the blanket down to reveal your face, bright red cheeks and watery eyes.

you look at him, but he’s not looking at you. he’s staring at your phone, which is laying on top of the covers, still on and open to tumblr.

“is that my name on the screen?” he asks, emotionless. you couldn’t tell if he was mad or disgusted or intrigued. he pointed at your phone with his index finger.

“i can explain.” you say.

“no need.” he looks into your eyes now. “you’re obviously reading fan fiction about me while you touch yourself. what else is there to explain?”

you seriously wanted to crawl into a hole and die. you prayed for the earth to swallow you up in that moment. where was the alien invasion when you needed it? “i— i guess you’re right..” you mumble. “there nothing else to explain.” you look up at the ceiling, tears pricking your eyes. “i’m sorry.” you tell him.

“don’t be sorry. i quite enjoyed hearing your moans from outside the door. what a thing to come home to.” he smiles his teasing smile at you and in that moment you’re glad that you’re in bed and not standing, because your legs turned to jello.

“i didn’t know my roomie was such a slut for me.” he says, reaching for the blanket. “my little slut.”

⋆｡‧˚jeongin˚‧｡⋆

god, your boyfriend had beautiful hands. you had this thought every day, multiple times a day. but you could never say anything to him. you were way too shy for that. and wouldn’t that be weird? ‘hey, innie i think you’re hands are really sexy.’? you were embarrassed just thinking about it. so you kept it to yourself. suffered in silence, drooling over his hands. you had recently turned to tumblr to fulfill your jeongin hand needs. and that was working out fine for a little while. but now, sat on the couch next to him, it’s like his hands are sending out a signal. a loud blaring siren that says hey! here we are! look at us!

the way he’s holding his phone, the muscles flexing as he uses his thumb to scroll instagram. your mind was immediately filled with dirty thoughts. so against your better judgement, you opened tumblr and continued reading. was it dangerous to read this while sitting so close to him? sure. but you couldn’t just excuse yourself to the other room without him having questions. so it’s either this, or just openly stare at his hands until he notices. what you didn’t anticipate however, was him putting his hand on your bare thigh, slowly rubbing your leg up and down, lovingly. he was doing it absentmindedly, ghosting his fingertips across your skin as he scrolled. you were sure your panties and your pajama shorts were probably soaked through at this point.

you forced your eyes back to the screen, but it only made things worse. in the real world, he’s gently rubbing your leg. in tumblr world, he’s wrapping his hand around your throat and squeezing. you accidentally let out a whimper, squirming in your seat. his hand stilled on your leg as he looked up at you. you dropped your phone onto your lap, and covered your face, mortified.

he laughs at you. “you’re adorable. why’re you hiding?” he reaches to try to pry your hands from your face. his fingers wrapping around your wrist send a shiver through your body, straight to your core.

“are those my hands?” he asks, chuckling nervously. you peek in between your fingers and see that your phone was displaying a rather large close up of his hands. somehow, the story you were reading had scrolled all the way back up to the top. there was the title of the story, and a picture of his hands. well fuck.

“i— uh-.” you stammer.

he holds his hands out in front of his face, turning them over and examining them. “what’s so special about them?” he asks, not really expecting an answer. “you must really like them if you’re reading fan fiction about them.” he laughs. “but i’m right here. you have the real thing on the same couch as you. why read about it?” he asks.

your face is bright pink. “i was embarrassed..” you admit softly.

“embarrassed? how long have you been thinking about this?”

you kind of shrug as an answer, meaning it’s been a while. he reaches for your phone, and before you can stop him, he’s scrolling. “choking?” he looks up at you. “is that what you want, baby? for me to wrap my hands around your pretty little throat?” your eyes went wide and you swallowed hard. “aren’t you going to answer me?” he teases. “i bet my big hand would fit almost all the way around..” in one swift motion, he wraps his hand around your ankle and tugs, forcing you onto your back, him kneeling in between your legs. he leans over you, his breath against your cheek, his hand slowly sliding up your chest, his index finger playing with the little dip at the base of your throat.

“i’ll put this hand here..” he says, wrapping it around your throat but applying no pressure. “and i’ll put this one here.” his other hand finds your soaked pajama shorts. “already prepped, baby.” he places a soft kiss against your lips before sliding his hand into your panties, his middle finger finding your hole. “let’s see how long you can last.”

🚨reminder: this blog is 18+ only. i’ve been getting a lot of new followers (which i greatly appreciate) but if there’s no age identifier on your blog, i’m blocking you no questions asked. (for my own sanity and peace of mind.) ik some people don’t actually go to my page to read the warnings, so im going to start attaching a warning at the bottom of all my posts. thanks for understanding. 💕

#stray kids #bang chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #bang chan stray kids #bang chan x reader #stray kids bang chan #stray kids smut #hyunjin #hyunjin smut #lee minho smut #han jisung smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #changbin smut #lee felix smut #stray kids fluff #hyunjins orange slice too

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kinokkotsu · 7 months

Text

The Dim Light — Yuuta Okkotsu x F.Reader

Today’s Music Recommendation: My Love Mine All Mine By Mitski.

You did not believe in love at first sight until you saw him walk into the room. The pure appearance and the innocent personality of his caught you off guard. How could a person like this get cursed by a curse?

You stood tall next to him while he was avoided by the others during training. You thought he’d appreciate it, which he did. His nervous behavior and awkwardness could break a chuckle for all you care but you didn’t want to seem like you were harassing him so you’d bare with it.

The more you get to know him, the more you figured his heart belonged to someone else.

Someone who isn’t on the surface of earth anymore.

Someone who still stood next to him no matter what, even as a nothing.

Rika, that was what he called the special graded curse which almost took away your life when it noticed you glazing at him with full of passion and admiration.

He was a nice guy, you admitted.

A really..really nice guy.

There was a saying that goes — Whoever meant to see your light shall see it no matter how dim it is - you supposed he was no different from the others who shall not see the brightest stars within your dim light.

It was somewhere around December, you suppose it was on the 24th. You found yourself running back to the Jujutsu Tech from your mission as you were informed that a thick layer of veil had covered the whole area.

And the first thing that appeared in your brain was to protect Yuuta Okkotsu. The innocent and pure little guy who would always mess things up as a beginner. But that was just an underestimation of yours towards him. while you sweat bullets trying to enter the white pale veil, you noticed how the entire estate glowed in pink flash.

Was this a technique of Gojo?

No, you weren’t familiar with this kind of curse technique before.

All of a sudden, the energy that was produced by the veil weakened to the point where you could break through it.

You didn’t waste any moments and immediately rushed in. Arriving near the shrine, your body tensed up at the scene of your friends’ bodies laying on the solid floor. Your eyes detected every person on the ground but there was no sign of the special graded sorcerer.

you dashed deeper into the ruined buildings. Each step taking a thousand thoughts running feral within your brain. What you dropped all your worries was the sight of the 6 feet tall man running towards your direction.

Your pace slowed down as your vision focused on his divine face. “Gosh, I have been looking for you for goddamn sakes, where have you been!?” You raised your voice, watching him give you a relieved grin.

Before you could take another step forward, he pulled you into a hug. Your cheeks reddened as immediately as he did so.

“—thank goodness you’re okay..Maki, Panda and others..I-”

“They’re okay..I..I’m Okay.” you returned the hug awkwardly, feeling yourself get suffocated.

For the very first time in your life, you felt something that was so genuine in the hug that both of you couldn’t pull away for the next few seconds. Then you saw a small little girl standing behind Yuuta where you both caught off guard when she called him out.

Then many things happened after. apparently this girl was Rika who had been acting crazy over everyone that tried to get close to Yuuta. You saw how pure and genuine was their relationship when you watched Yuuta sobbed on his knees as he held onto Rika.

In the blink of an eye, you watched the girl disappear into the thin air while the male before you still remained silent.

You put a hand on his shoulder, holding back your envy and the pity you had for this guy.

You supposed you would somehow cope with these feelings that craved to burst out.

You supposed loving someone would never be a waste, nevertheless if they’re alive or not.

At this moment you somehow figured loving someone did not require for them to return the same favor as you.

To love was the best thing you could do — for him and.. for you.

Sorry if the writing is ragged. The new episode, the leaks and this song got me fucked up for god sakes.

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agi-ppangx · 4 months

Text

the boy who turned my head (lee minho x fem!reader)

word count: 1,6k author's note: this is the last fic in 2023. thank you for your constant support, i wouldn't have done anything without any of you<3 i hope 2024 will be kind for all of us. i'll try my best to continue this wonderful tumblr journey with you by my side. i love you all<3

it all started with a song.

it was pretty late and the party had been going for a few hours. the alcohol in your veins made your brain all fuzzy and it wasn’t long before you ended up on the dancefloor, forgetting about the world around you as you swayed to yet another song blasting from the speakers. you felt happy as you threw your hands in the air, laughing loudly.

then the songs changed and everyone’s attention shifted to the boy in the middle of the crowd, grinning widely while dancing to bruno mars’ song. people cheered as the boy smoothly performed the dance steps and you did too, until he locked his eyes with yours and you stopped in your tracks. the world around you collapsed as it was only you and him left. the boy smiled at you and took your hand and, well, swept you to the middle of the dance floor. and you let him, of course you let him - he was just so charming and his smile was so mesmerising and he looked at you with the literal galaxies in his eyes and-

“kiss her!” someone shouted from the crowd, loud enough for the boy to hear. he looked at you with a giddy smile, resting his forehead on yours.

“may i?” he mouthed, searching for the answer in your curious eyes. you blinked a few times, thinking about it, and then without any warning leaned forward to capture the boy’s lips in a passionate, yet a bit messy kiss. you squished his cheeks with your palms, earning a little giggle that escaped his mouth right into yours. and you stayed on the dance floor long after that, your steps becoming more and more wobbly, but you knew he wouldn’t let you fall.

“can i have your number?” he asked you in the morning as you were heading to the exit, the sun lazily creeping out from behind the horizon. your head hurt, your phone was dead and you were still drunk.

“my number…? i, um- wait, what’s your name?” you mumbled, looking at him with glassy eyes.

“it’s minho,” he chuckled, blushing slightly. he must’ve had a greater tolerance for alcohol, because except for his goofy aura he looked perfectly fine.

“oh, right! so, minho, unfortunately i’m too drunk now and i forgot my number,” you started, wobbling a little on your feet. minho quickly wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you stay stable. “so maybe you should ask chan? i’m sure he has my number somewhere in his phone.” he nodded, letting out a little “ah”.

“will you get home safely?” he then asked, scanning your rather pathetically looking figure. you smiled, nodding.

“yeah, my friend- she should be here any minute now,” you slurred, seeing the familiar car pull on the driveway. “oh, she’s here! see, i told you,” you grinned, patting his arm a few times. “see you soon, minho,” you waved at him, slowly making your way to the car, leaving the boy behind you.

“who was that?” your friend asked curiously as she noticed your giddy smile. you looked at him one last time before she drove off and you sighed dreamily.

“a boy who turned my head.”

. . . .

the cold wind made you shiver as you stepped out of changbin’s house. you were wearing that short blue dress that minho liked so much, but he wasn’t particularly interested in it anyway. throughout the whole party he’d acknowledged you once, only saying a vague “hi” to you.

it’d been going like that for months. since the very beginning your relationship with minho was constantly balancing between friendship and something more. one day he was all over you, taking you on dates and holding your hand for the whole time, only for him to ghost you for the next few weeks or dismiss you with short messages. he showered you in gifts, kissing your forehead and smiling like a teenager in love, but whenever a sweet old lady in the store would call you such a cute couple, minho would immediately cut her off, saying that she’s only my friend. and it made you confused and hurt - didn’t he see how much love your eyes contained for him? didn’t he see how hard you fell for him?

“yn? where are you going?” you heard minho’s voice behind you. he placed his hand on your shoulder, stopping you before you had the chance to walk out. it was getting close to midnight - you could’ve waited to celebrate new year with everyone and then go, but you’d had too much.

“home. i’m kind of tired,” you shrugged your shoulders, dropping your head not to make eye contact with minho. the wind blew again and you covered yourself with your arms. why didn’t you take something warmer with you?

“oh, here,” he said, taking off his jacket and trying to put it on your shoulders, but you took a step back. It left minho dumbfounded, his mouth opening and closing a few times as if he was trying to say something.

“i don’t- i don’t want your jacket,” you mumbled, your voice already breaking a little. great, you thought. “i told you i’m tired.”

“yeah, but what does it have to do with me giving you my jacket?” minho chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere a bit. to say he was confused would be an understatement. you sighed loudly, looking around. was he really that blind?

“it’s not about the fucking jacket, minho!” you snapped, feeling defeated. your eyes started to get glassy, tears slowly forming in the corners of them. you shook your head, trying to calm yourself down. “i’m tired of you treating me like a toy,” you whispered the last word, taking in a sharp breath. “you always come to me whenever you feel lonely and then ghost me when your needs are met. but you somehow completely missed the fact that i, in fact, am a human being myself and i-” you stopped abruptly when minho stood right in front of you with a frightened expression. you looked him in the eyes and suddenly the world around you vanished, just like the day you first met.

“do you really feel used by me?” he whispered in disbelief, his voice so quiet and weak that you almost felt bad for him. you let out a shaky breath, a single tear slowly falling down your face.

“i- no, it's just- we do all of that cute stuff together, we cuddle and we go on our little dates and i thought it meant something to you,” you mumbled, wiping your face. you heard some noise from inside the house and you knew midnight was getting closer. “i just feel really dumb, you know? i fell for someone who doesn’t even care about me,” you chuckled dryly, taking a step back and trying to walk away, but minho was quicker. he wrapped his hand around your wrist and in a smooth motion brought you to his chest, hugging you tightly.

“i’m so sorry, i- i was scared, i was so stupid,” he rambled, combing his fingers through your hair. you stiffed, not sure what to do next, though it was nice to feel minho’s arm cradling you again. “i was afraid i’d lose you, that you’d leave me if i got too vulnerable.” you wrapped your arms around his waist, squeezing him gently as he continued. you inhaled softly his cologne and it made you cry a bit more. that’s how home smells for you. “i never wanted to make you feel this way, i’m so sorry,” he whispered another apology and you just stood there, unable to form a sentence. minho mumbled i’m sorry and please forgive me over and over into your hair like a mantra and it made you smile faintly into his chest.

suddenly you heard people shouting inside the house and you realised that they were counting down. you thought quickly, trying to decide what to do. 10, 9, 8. you pulled away from minho’s chest slightly so you could look him in the eyes. you realised he was crying. 7, 6, 5. you cupped his cheeks, wiping the tears that had fallen. you smiled at him and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. he looked as if he tried to take as much as he could from that moment, like it was meant to be taken away from him forever when the clock strikes midnight. 4, 3, 2. you leaned forward, letting your foreheads touch and minho snapped his eyes open. he looked confused, but a smile finally appeared on his face. 1, 0, new year! minho’s lips crashed into yours, taking your breath away, but you let him, of course you let him. now it was quiet, only the two of you left on the planet as you kissed with the same lust as the first time.

you were the first to pull away, desperately gasping for air with the biggest grin plastered on your face. minho cradled your face gently. his entire world fit in his hands.

“let’s say it’s forgiven, not forgotten,” you whispered. “you don’t have to apologise anymore if you promise me to work on your behaviour.” minho nodded at your words, kissing you again as if he tried to seal the oath.

“now you can actually give me the jacket, i’m freezing,” you said with a giggle and he chuckled, placing the material over your shoulders and you happily inhaled his scent one more time. you were home again.

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes

#skz #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz au #stray kids scenarios #skz angst #stray kids fluff #skz lee know #skz minho #stray kids lee know #lee know skz #lee know imagines #lee know x reader #lee know scenarios #lee know angst #lee know fluff

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imagines--galore · 10 months

Note

Since you're asking for prompts,I was envisioning Will confessing to the reader in the same way George confessed to Charlotte in Queen Charlotte (the "my heart calls your name" confession) and thought it would suit Will really well!! Like maybe reader puts herself in danger by trying to save Will or something idk

Pairing: Will Turner x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None. A/N: I just ADORE Will Turner so much :3 and I love Charlotte the series as well so this was the PERFECT blend! Sorry for any mistakes folks! Also If you read this please please tell me what you think!!!

Your head was pounding. And not from drinking too much ale. You were sure of it.

Blinking your eyes, you were met with an unfamiliar ceiling. Normally you would wake in a hammock onboard the Black Pearl, with the gentle sway of the ship welcoming you to another day.

But everything was steady and there was no creaking or moaning of the ship as it sailed.

Your eyes blinked once more, to clear them from any remaining sleep. Slowly your brain began to recall the last thing you remembered.

Davy Jone's crew.

A fight on an island.

Fleeing to the Black Pearl.

The Kraken attacking the ship.

The entire crew fighting valiantly to save themselves and their ship.

Huge tentacles rising from the mysterious depths of the waters you had traveled for so long.

Ready to kill.

To drag someone to a watery grave.

To drag Will to his doom.

Will!

You sat up with a loud gasp, eyes frantically darting from one end of the unfamiliar room to the other before finally landing on a familiar figure that had only just stepped into the room.

Will Turner stood at the threshold, holding a bowl of what could only be food. The scent of it wafted through the air and your stomach grumbled in protest at being denied nourishment.

Yet you could not move. Could only stare at the man as he stood before you.

"I see I managed to save you then." You finally said, feeling a little uncomfortable under his gaze. He was looking at you as if you were the very moon that hung in the sky. Which was utterly ridiculous because that was how he saw Elizabeth.

"And that we managed to escape in one piece." You raised a hand to your head, only to be greeted by a bandage wrapped around the entirety of it. A slight twinge of pain against your left temple made you aware of where exactly your injury was. "So, what did I miss? After I passed out?"

Whatever emotional turmoil Will had been battling he pushed it aside in favor of walking forward and handing the bowl to you. As you began to spoon the watery broth to your mouth, he pulled up a chair to sit beside your bed.

"After you passed out, we all piled into the lifeboats. I managed to haul you in as well." He paused almost looking at you expectantly. You raised an eyebrow at him. "And you expect me to thank you for saving me?" You asked in a dry tone, to which he rolled his eyes before continuing.

"Elizabeth was the last of us to get on. But Jack.........Jack stayed. To act as diversion for the kraken."

Your eyes widened and you dropped your spoon into your nearly empty bowl. "He...what?" You whispered, sounding just as in disbelief as you felt. Sorrow passed over Will's feature as he nodded gravely. "Jack's dead, Y/n." He confirmed, to which you took a shuddering breath and closed your eyes, before slowly falling back against the wall behind you.

The both of you sat in silence, with Will reaching out to gently and almost hesitantly placing a hand on top of yours as a sign of comfort. "I'm sorry, y/n. I knew you were close." Tears pricked your eyes but you didn't let them fall. Though you did give a small nod. "As close as a person can be with someone who took them under their protection."

That had been the extent of your relationship with Jack. Your families were old friends, and even related by blood somewhere down the line. And when you had decided to travel the seas as a pirate, Jack had been the one who agreed to let you sail with him. Not many pirates were happy having a female presence onboard, but you had proved yourself enough times that it no longer bothered them.

You had been with Jack through thick and thin. Through fire and water. You had been the only one on his side, along with Gibbs, when Barbossa had mutinied against him.

If it weren't for Jack, you wouldn't have realized your dream of becoming a pirate. And if it hadn't been for Jack, you would never have met Will Turner.

When you had first met Will, him and Jack had just arrived at Tortuga to look for a ship to go after Will's beloved Elizabeth. You had been slightly mistrustful towards him at first, and also a little jealous since Jack seemed to be spending all his time with him. But given how easily Will had befriended the rest of the crew, despite his own mistrust of pirates, you had taken to forming an unlikely acquaintanceship.

You were the best swords woman of your age, and it showed when you would take to the deck and practice every single day.

————————–

Then one day, your sword clashed with Will's.

Your eyes met over the joined blades, gauging the silent question in his. A smirk was your response before you stepped to the side and raised your sword in response.

And so a battle of wits and skill began.

Your swords clashed, your feet danced, your gazes never wavered and neither did your determination.

The entire deck was your practice ground, and the rest of the crew had gotten well out of the way when they had seen the both of you begin to duel. The both of you used every prop to gain the upper hand. But never once did either of you try a dirty trick. And while there had been a sense of pride behind each fell of your swords, slowly they began to grow playful. As did your words.

Back and forth, back and forth. With your swords and with your teasing insults and quips. Smiled full of passion and energy playing about your lips as you both danced to a tune only you could here.

It finally stopped when Jack called out to you. Neither of you yielded, or allowed the other to gain the upper hand. So, with sweat lining your brows and barely able to get a word out with how you both panted for breath, you were only able to smile at one another and say.

"To be continued good sir?" You had said in a slightly mocking yet playful tone to which he had grinned and given you a little bow before speaking.

"As the lady wishes."

But you never did pick back up on the match.

Instead the both of you would simply find each other and talk. He spoke of his life growing up as an orphan, with no money and no family. You had spoken of your own struggles, and slowly, without you realizing, in the weeks that it took you to finally catch up to the Black Pearl, you were made aware of your true feelings for Will.

You would watch him as he interacted with the rest of the crew, and on more then one occasion Jack had caught you simply smiling at him. He had tried to discourage you, telling you of who Will really loved and how nothing could be done about it.

Especially not when he was in love with Elizabeth.

You knew of the consequences, but you simply enjoyed his company too much to just stop spending time with him. And while you knew you were setting yourself up for a lot of heartache, it didn't stop you from forming a companionship with Will.

Although that too came to an abrupt and almost cruel end.

To cut a long story short, Elizabeth was rescued and Barbossa was defeated. Jack had his ship and his crew.

And Will returned home to marry Elizabeth.

Whatever friendship had been blossoming between the both of you had fizzled out the moment Elizabeth had been rescued. And though you knew you were setting yourself up for heartbreak, you did not comprehend just how much it would hurt. How his lack of presence would effect you. He hadn't even offered a proper goodbye when he had left. You had thought that perhaps as a friend he would do you the courtesy, but it was not so.

He never looked back at you.

Not once.

————————–

And so you decided to put him out of your mind. But never your heart. You couldn't put him out of your heart and it only made you miss him more.

So when he returned, this time for the purpose of saving Elizabeth once more, you were cold towards him. Cold and distant, even when he had approached you to speak with you. Your heart had cursed you for not speaking with him, but you were still too hurt over his dismissal of you the last time that you had no desire to forgive him.

All that vanished though, when Davy Jones appeared and agreed to take Will aboard the Flying Dutchman. You knew it was Jack's doing, that he had a plan in place, but that didn't stop you from stepping forward and volunteering to go along with him.

Out of love? Out of desperation? Out of your compulsion to protect the people you cared about? You did not know.

Jack had tried to protest, but Davy Jones accepted.

And so you found yourself standing beside Will, watching as the Black Pearl sailed away, leaving you onboard a ship of dangerous pirates, and a man who did not know how much you loved him.

At every turn, you tried your best to help him. You had learned long ago when to keep your head down and simply follow orders. Will was not a pirate. He picked up every chance he could to fight back. And when he discovered his father was one of the crew members, you had comforted him. And when he had been punished for his mistake with lashings, you had been the one to tend to him, cleaning his wounds and wiping away the blood. You had held his hand as he twitched from the pain, had stroked his hair when he needed a comforting touch.

Your mind screamed at you, at how you were setting yourself for heartbreak once more. But your heart rejoiced. You knew he was doing whatever he was to help Elizabeth, to save her, but you couldn't help it. All those feelings you had buried came rushing back to the top.

Your escape from the Flying Dutchman as well as the Kraken was pure luck. However, by your second encounter with the Kraken, when it came after Jack, your luck had run out.

You had been trying your best to avoid the lashing tentacles, as they grabbed man after man and threw them into the sea. You had successfully avoided capture, but only barely. Your eyes had frantically searched the deck, looking for a way to avoid yet another tentacle when you had spotted Will.

With a tentacle gliding his way to swipe him off his feet and into the water below.

You had screamed his name, had felt yourself leap into action. You ran, throwing yourself forward to push him out of the way. And you succeeded. Only for the tentacle, meant for Will, to hit your body with a force that had your teeth rattling and for you to go flying.

A flash of pain was all you felt at the side of your head. A voice calling out your name in utter alarm and despair was all you remembered.

And then darkness.

————————–

Presently, you blinked away your tears as you set aside the bowl and looked around. It was the first time that you noticed you were in some sort of bed built into the wooden walls. The air smelled heavy and musty. Familiar even.

"Are we at Tia Delma's hideout?" You asked, to which you received a nod in response. "How many of us survived?" Will pursed his lips at her question, and you knew the answer could not be good. "Only a few. Gibbs made it. As did the both of us. And Elizabeth." Of course she did, you thought to yourself.

Wanting to change the subject you raised a hand to your head to press your fingers tenderly against your covered temple. "How long have I been asleep?" The thinning of Will's lips told you just how displeased he was with the answer he gave. "Three days. You were barely alive when we reached Tia Delma. She took one look at you and took you to this room. Working on you for hours before finally letting me in to see you." He admitted, sounding almost angry at the woman.

"Remind me to thank her later." You said with a small smile, as you leaned your head back against the wall and sighed. Your hand came up to fiddle with the skull and cross gold necklace that rested at your throat. "I can't believe he's gone." You whispered, feeling the loss of your friend deeply.

"Elizabeth is in pieces because of it."

You blinked. "Why would she be in pieces over Jack's death?" You asked. You had suspicions that the girl never really liked Jack. There was always some sort tension between the both of them.

"Because she loved him."

Will's words had you blinking in utter surprise.

"What?"

He frowned at the confusion on your face. "I thought you knew?" You rolled your eyes. "Oh yes Will, Elizabeth and I sit together for tea and gossip about our love lives." The statement did make him crack a little smile before he continued.

"Well now you know. Elizabeth loved Jack."

"But I thought you loved her. Weren't you going to marry her?" You asked, allowing your curiosity to show. With all that had happened, neither of you had been able to properly sit and speak. Not when your lives had been in constant danger by either cannibals, or mad pirates or mythical creatures or the Company.

So many people were out to kill all of you.

"I was. I thought I loved her. But I realized, when we got back home, that it was nothing but infatuation. She was the one who rescued me when I was found adrift. And we grew up together. So, I allowed my boyhood feelings to grow into something that was never meant to be." He paused for a moment. "Those feelings are all gone now. And I was glad she found someone to love. For a little while." He added sadly, glancing in the direction the door where Elizabeth was probably sitting beyond. You did too, almost expecting Jack to come swaggering in with his usual land-legs and a bottle of ale in his hand.

"I never expected Jack of all people to die. He seemed almost immortal." You admitted.

"Well he proved he was a mortal man and met his doom. And you would've followed him too, if Tia Delma hadn't been here." You glanced at him curiously, not understanding the tone of his voice. He was glaring at you, his eyes almost stormy. "How could you be so reckless? What you did was extremely dangerous, even for you Y/n."

"You mean saving your life?" A frown creased your brow. "I did what I did to save you Will. And if that is a crime then take me to the brig." You snapped with a roll of your eyes. "And aren't people usually grateful to those who save them?"

He glared at you. "Not at the expense of their own life. The Company is taking over the seas, we need every good pirate we can get."

Anger coursed through your veins. "Oh so thats why you were worried about me? Because you didn't want to loose a good pirate. Its all about strategy with you isn't it?" All your past hurt and heartache was beginning to simmer under the surface, and if you weren't careful you would probably say something you would regret. But you didn't care.

His nostrils flared. "How could you think its simply because of that? Do you truly believe I am that shallow?" He spoke angrily to which you gave a mocking nod. "Of course I do. I mean why else would you ignore me once you gained my friendship?"

"I never-"

But you cut him off. "I thought we were friends Will. But the moment you rescued Elizabeth you ignored me as if you never knew me. As if we didn't spend weeks in each other's company. And then you came back, and I was there with you on the Dutchman, but as soon as you saw Elizabeth, once more you pushed me aside. I am not something you can use whenever you desire before putting it aside to gather dust. And even when I save your life, when I rescue you, you say such things to me?" Your voice had slowly started to rise in octave with each passing word. It was a good thing no one was within earshot to hear you.

Will looked angry with every word that came out of your mouth. "You put yourself in grave danger, Y/n. You always have no regard for your own life or your own safety and it worries me."

"And why should that bother you? Or even worry you for that matter. What am I to you?"

"I only wish to help you Y/n. To protect you-" He reached out with his hand almost as if he were about to touch you but stopped.

You turned your head away. "I did not ask for your protection Will, I do not need it. Why would you wish to protect me?"

"Because-" But you didn't allow him to finish.

"Is it because you think of me as some damsel in distress?" He shook his head.

"No Y/n-" Once again he was interrupted from saying his piece.

"Or you do not believe me to be capable of doing anything."

His voice was almost pleading, imploring you to listen to him. "Y/n-"

But you barely heard him, allowing your hurt and pain to blind you as you spoke. "Why? Why do you wish to protect me so?"

"Because I love you!"

His deceleration came out in a shout. One that echoed in your ears and had your mouth parting in utter surprise, while you stared at him in utter disbelief.

For his part, Will had stood from his chair, hands buried in his hair as he began to pace the length of the small room, still speaking in an almost frenzied and desperate manner.

"From the mo-" His voice broke as he met your gaze. "From the moment I saw you." Suddenly he was sitting in front of you on the bed, clutching at your hand in an almost desperate manner as he continued. "I have loved you from the very second I saw you." His words washed over you like a warm ocean breeze.

"I love you desperately Y/n." His voice was trembling, every word sounding almost broken as he spoke. "My heart calls your name. And I cannot loose you. I cannot." With each word his hands raised to cup your face, only to bring you forward and press your lips to his in a desperate kiss.

And you returned it.

You felt your heart heal and break at the same time as he brushed a hand against your bandages. Pulling back from the kiss, he rested his forehead against your own. "I cannot do this without you, Y/n." He admitted to which you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and embraced him with all your strength, hoping to pour all of your love for him in that one simple gesture. "I suppose it is a good thing I love you as well then." You whispered against his neck, to which he let out a small slightly tearful laugh. "I am aware of that. Given how you whispered it to me when you were slipping in and out of consciousness."

You pulled back, staring at wide eyed at his grinning face. "What?!"

“Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” He gently brushed his knuckles against your cheek, a gesture that made you blush. Your hand lifted to trace along the side of his face, enjoying how he closed his eyes, as if to savour your touch.

“I will never leave you Will. Just as long as you promise to never leave me.” You said, still stroking his face.

He nodded in response. “I promise.” His hand found the back of your head, urging you forward to close the remaining distance between the both of you.

This time the kiss lasted longer then just a few seconds.

#will turner x reader #will turner x oc #will turner x y/n #pirates of the carribean: dead men tell no tales #pirates of the carribean at worlds end #pirates of the carribean x reader #pirates of the caribbean #jack sparrow #will turner #legolas x reader #orlando bloom x reader #legolas x y/n

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phthalomushroom · 2 months

Text

The Family (4)

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pairings: modern!mafia!aemondxreader

summary: You had left Kings Landing and the Targaryen family four years ago. Now back and living with your old roommate you realize that the life you had thought you escaped had seemingly been waiting for you. But will the family really let you go? Will the people you left behind forgive you? Can you forget the past and look to the future?

warnings: language, mentions of trauma, stalking?

word count: 1.4K

note: I thought I had the rest of this planned out but my brain keeps finding new ways to change it on me. Next chapter though, we got some tea coming! Hope you enjoy!

You had felt like you were going to throw up.

Once you had left the party you had headed home and downed at least half a bottle of tequila. To say the hangover this morning was a difficult one was an understatement. You pulled yourself out of bed, grabbed your phone that you had discarded somewhere on the floor in your drunken haze and looked through the messages from Baela and Rhaena who were asking where you went.

It seems your drunk self was responsible enough to text back something that resembled that you had made it home.

You moved across the room, barely missing stepping on your shoes as you headed to the kitchen. You needed something to eat that you wouldn’t regurgitate right away. .

“There’s nothing to eat.”

You turned to see Baela lounging on the couch, a rag shielding her eyes from the light.

“We need to go to the grocery store.”

“No shit.” She sat up taking the rag from her face, she looked like she also got hit by a bus. “Glad you drank my tequila, if it was here when I got back I probably wouldn’t be alive right now.”

You frowned, joining her on the couch. “I take it you didn’t enjoy the party either.”

“I take it the talk with Aemond didn’t go well.”

“He was drunk and an asshole.”

She tilted her head. “Aemond doesn’t drink… he is an asshole though.”

“But he was never an asshole to me.”

She smirked. “Then I guess you’ve officially joined ‘Aemond’s an asshole club,’ I’ll get you one of our t-shirts-”

“Baela I’m being serious.”

“So am I, we meet every Tuesday to talk about the new assholey thing he’s done.”

You rolled your eyes, a headache starting to form. “I really thought that there might’ve been something left, but he’s changed since the last time I saw him.”

She shrugged. “He’s gone through a lot. Aegon’s death, Otto being locked up, and now you coming back. There’s been a lot of change happening.”

You rolled your eyes. “So because of all that he’s marrying Alys? I mean he couldn’t have picked someone with a little bit of, I don’t know, humanity?”

Baela chuckled. “I know this won’t be easy but things will get better, I promise. Besides, you’ve got your first encounter down which means you never have to talk to him again.”

“We live in the same city, I doubt I will never talk to him again.”

“Yeah but this time you don’t have to be so civil.”

You smirked, pride flaring in your chest a bit. “I was civil, wasn't I?

Baela wrapped her arm around your shoulder. “I thought you were going to burn the place down, but you didn’t.”

You let out a long breath. “I need food and I need something to take my mind off all this shit.”

Baela smiled. “Shopping?”

You nodded in agreement. “Shopping.”

********

You and Baela had managed to stomach a little bit of breakfast at a cafe before making your way to the East side of the city. You decided on going to a well known store that was big for its unique couture.

You scavenged the racks trying to find some good purchases that matched your style. Baela had managed to find a few and had left you to go try them on in the fitting rooms. You had offered to go with her in case she wanted some feedback but had declined on the premise of not wanting to hog the fitting room.

You were currently looking through some sweaters when you heard an all too familiar voice.

“Well, look who's back in town.”

You stiffened, casting a glance over your shoulder to see Daemon Targaryen. He had his hands in his pockets and a sly smirk on his face.

“Daemon.” Was all you said before turning yourself back to the rack. You pushed yourself closer to the clothes, concealing your hand going into your bag to pull out your mace. You made sure to put it in your pocket so that it was easily accessible.

“A cold greeting is not meant for family, sweetheart.” He moved around the rack so that he was in your line of sight.

“We aren’t family.”

He sighed. “I have to say I was disappointed when I heard about the failed engagement. Aemy was so excited, nearly killed him to see you go.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I thought the Targaryens no longer accepted you in the family, after your little coup with Rhaenyra.”

“A misunderstanding, Rhaenyra and I have been welcomed back. My lovely nephew saw to that.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’ve missed a lot since you left.”He leaned against the rack. “You shouldn’t have come back, (Y/N).”

You straightened. “I’m not involved in whatever shit you have going on. So leave me alone.”

He frowned. “I’m just reminding you that despite your disagreements with Aemond you are still seen as part of this family.”

You glared at him. “Aemond never told me anything about the family business. He never wanted me involved.”

“I was talking more in the literal sense.” He held his hands up. “I like you, (Y/N), which is why you should leave town.”

You raised a brow. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, I would never threaten you, I’m just giving you some advice. There are still bad people wandering around and I would hate for something bad to happen like last time.”

You crossed your arms. “That sure seems like a threat, Daemon.”

“If you don’t want to take my word for it, why don’t you ask the man who's been watching you since you and Baela left the cafe.”

You looked to where he gestured with his head to see the man in question. He wore a red baseball cap with a plain t-shirt and jeans and was staring very intently at a pair of tailored pants.

He looked up briefly, catching your eye. He noted that you and Daemon were staring at him. He set the pants down and wandered towards the front of the store out of sight.

“Who was that?”

Daemon shrugged. “Ghosts of Aemond’s it seems, but I guess yours too since you shot their boss.”

You stared at him, unflinching. “That wasn’t me.”

He grinned, pointing a finger at you. “You are a good liar, I’ll give you that.”

Your hand drifted to your pocket with the pepper spray.

“Don’t worry too much,” Daemon said, taking a step back. “Aemonds gave his instructions in regards to you.”

“And what instructions are those?”

“Don’t let you die.”

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “So he’ll assign a protection detail but he’ll treat me like a mistress.”

He took a step back. “I’ll be watching you, (y/n).”

“Creepy.”

He turned away, heading towards the front of the shop no doubt in hunt of the man in the red baseball cap.

“Was that Daemon?”

You jumped at Baela’s voice, nearly knocking down the rack of clothes you had spent too much time at.

“Yeah,” you answered. “Just coming by to tell me he’s watching me.”

Baela shook her head “The family guard dog is back at it again.”

“Tell me about it.”

Baela had seemed to find some clothes she wanted to buy so you two headed to the registers.

“Can I ask you something?” you asked before Baela could check out.

“Yeah?”

“Daemon mentioned that he was part of the family again. Is that true?”

“Yeah, I don’t know the specifics but about a year after you left Aemond had announced that he and Rhaenyra were no longer enemies of the family.”

You shook your head. “You’re kidding me, even after they killed Aegon?”

Baela shrugged. “Jace said Aemond never does anything without a plan and I guess he needed them back in the family.”

You shook your head, watching as Baela put her clothes on the counter. It didn’t make sense, Aemond’s own brother being poisoned at the hands of those two. The Aemond you knew would never have sided with the people who murdered his big brother. Sure, Aegon and him had their differences and Aegon got on Aemond’s every nerve but he would never disrespect his brother like that.

And now you were being followed by some mystery guy and Daemon.

What the hell happened since you were gone?

Tag List: @dixie-elocin @liannafae @toodlesxcuddles @watercolorskyy @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @namelesslosers @tssf-imagines

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