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wettestnjaay · 1 year

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just a quick little sun for dave & todd 🙈.

“ILL TAKE THEM BOTH, THATS FAIR RIGHT?”

EVAN PETERS & AARON JOHNSON ❤️.

DAVE LIZEWSKI x BLACK!POPULAR!BIMBO!READER x TODD HAYNES LIGHT SMUT 16+

NEW TAGLIST | REQUEST | WATTPAD

SUMMARY;

Picture yourself, a highschool student—pretty, fun, cute, everything perfect beside.., you having a small little crush on a geek,, named Todd.. and teases him and his friend Dave., a lot… Maybe they kept you joking around, or bullying them, but it’s all it cover up for your crush on the boy, from you going to the comic book store to see all of the three friends all today in a window, you’d finally see the beauty in his friend asf well,, you were slowly falling inlove with the two boys without even thinking, but maybe you’ll invite them to your party and pop up with a confession for the both of them.

I CANT JS HAVE ONE—I NEED THEM BOTH.

WARNING !

light-bullying, kissing, body-worship (m!recieving) making out, little touching, two whinny boys, inexperienced/kinda experience, blow-jobs, hand-jobs, breast play(little) whimpering/whining, grinding, polyamorous/threesome, reader in control for a little while, clit sucking, cumplay kinda, f!recieving head as well, just sliding p against v no p in v, deep-throating, sir kink, goddess kink, pleasing kink, praise kink, pet names(reader: pretty girl, baby, goddess | todd: good boy, sweetie, toddy bear | dave: Davey, pretty boy, sweetie)

THIS IS KINDA A 200+ SPECIAL & HAPPY NEW YEARS <;3.

THE SCHOOL DAY WAS PASSING BY QUICKLY AS POSSIBLE LIKE IT WAS RUSHED TODAY, first it was 2nd period, and then the next then, all of a sudden it was lunch.

Maybe it was because you were focusing in class or something, you didn't care or anything you just needed to hand out as many invited to your party coming up this Friday.

Handing out notes and invites left and right in the hallway, you looked up from your locker very quickly only to see your friends coming in your direct, just a couple of girls you talked to here and there, Katie, Emma, and Bree.

"I heard you got a party going on this weekend, what's that about"

You looked at the girl speaking before giving out a cheeky smile, and pulling out 3 invites, "You know I wouldn't forget about you guys right?" you started before letting out a small giggle causing you to feel more eyes on you, "Party on Friday don't forget, show up or be a loser."

The girls laughed at your words before saying a small 'thanks' and giving you side hugs and walking away chatting away, once they were out the way you'd finally seen it, the pair of eyes on you.

A messy curly headed blonde boy, you smiled at him once you and his chocolate eyes locked in with each other causing him to quickly look away exposing his burning red cheeks and ear tips to you,

Causing you to let out a small kitty laugh as you shut your locker door, and walked pass him looking at him once more with that same cheeky smile as early, before quickly fanning your skirt down in the back to get his attention more.

"Todd, are you even listening,?" the dark curly headed boy called out.

"No, not at all,, but did you see that.. she-Y/N, Y/N was totally into me, omg." the boy stuttered among words.

"In your dreams, loverboy." Marty called out slapping the boys shoulder.

"She did, she did.., I swear,, she's into me-she's so pretty,, and such a babe,, and reminds me of a soft little bunny-I do so many-"

"She's not into you, now lets go to lunch."

You were sitting at lunch with your friends, as they started talking about you upcoming party, and how they were going to have plus ones and boyfriends with them.

blah, blah, blah, you weren't even listening until you heard your name getting called out, "Hey Y/N, do you liked anyone?" one asked, the nosy one to be exact.

You looked at them funny, before speaking up, "You guys know I don't, and if I did, y'all would be the first to know, right?'

"Yeah, yeah but-what about do you find anyone cute,, you know?"

You let out a chuckle, before quickly nodding your head 'no'.

You hated lying to them, but you knew if they knew you thought Todd Haynes as cute,, or even any little nerd-geeky boy like Dave Lizewski or anyone who wasn't popular they wouldn't support you.

They wouldn't understand why, they'd think you were crazy, insane.

Quickly, after they started talking about another subject, one was whispering about hooking you up with someone at your own party but you weren't worried about it.. It would have most likely been a quick little hook up for the night, nothing more.

You simply zone out as you watched the cafeteria door, and seen Todd and his two friends walking in right after, he was mumbling about something, it seem like he was trying to get a point out of something, you quickly looked away before your friends can notice and bit onto your fork full of fruits; a grape, strawberry and kiwi.

Fork still in your mouth as you slowly looked back up with a half smile as you seen Todd looking in your direct, you were feeling all bubbly, making your thighs squeeze tightly together as you kissed the fork as it came out your mouth.

Those reddish pink cheeks came back upon his face once again as he did a small smirk before looking down at his feet and back at you.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom, as you seen the boys walking out of the cafeteria with their lunch, you quickly followed after once you got out of the loud room calling out, "Uh- Todd, excuse..excuse me?"

"Y/N" He says as he stopped moving at the sound of your voice, as him and all of his friends froze and looked in your direction.

"You're never suppose to make a lady run." you said as your looked down, fixing your skirt once again and readjusting your shirt.

"Uh.. sorry,, if I'd knew you were coming after me, I would have waited."

"No-no, its fine.. I just wanted to give you this-WOAH,, didn't notice you guys were this tall at first.." you said as you looked up at them, with a small chuckle.

Todd seemed like he was calming down but was still surprised, and the other two were in very much shock.

"I.. I wanted to give you this,.. just a second." you dogged into your skirt pocket only for it to be empty, you let out a puff of your breath before smiling once you realized.

You quickly pulled a small paper from your bra and let out a cheeky smile before looking at Todd and handing it towards him, "A party invite, umm,, I'd like you to come."

He looked at you, in your eyes before his dropped down toward your now exposed bra and then at the paper, and coughed,, before excusing himself, "Sorry-sorry, I meant to say thanks you Y/N,, I never even knew you noticed me, or knew my name."

"You're crazy, I've always notice you,, I mean who wouldn't, you're like a big golden bear, can I call you Toddy Bear?" you smiled, once again but it disappeared once you heard the bell ringing, "Oh- no, sorry, I waste you guys lunch time, I'm deeply sorry.. I'll make it up to you guys I promise, Friday come to the party!"

"Did you-did she just gave me an invite from her bra?"

"I don't but that.., That was fucking amazing, I think I'm hard-"

“Wow—She actually talked to us..,, she’s got the hots for you toddy bear.” Marty added.

Before any of the could reply, or respond to your invite you laughed and turn bouncing back into the cafeteria to get you stuff.

Good enough, Friday the day of the party came quickly as can be, you had help from friends setting everything up, drinks, snacks, chips, shortly after.

People were arriving left and right, back to back,, everyone but the person you wanted was there, you didn't trip about it just thought of it as a 'maybe they had some homework or you know nerdy geek stuff to do.' you tried to empty it out of your head by drinking with you friends and playing party games and dancing, but it wasn't working like you wanted to, you had to sit and cool down for a while in your room.

Thinking of what you did, going out of your way to invited someone whose not even popular, a geek,, a literary nerd who you thought liked you, but at this point you were just confused, unfocus, and angry and brokenhearted.

And you even showed out for him, with a big tight hot pink and black cheetah print dress, that showed your bloused and exposed a goof amount of your breast and your legs and thighs.

"Y/N, your missing your own party, what the hell lets go," your best friend called out as she open up your room door and pulled you off of your bed and out of the room.

Next thing you knew, your friend was dragging you down to your basement where people were all bunched up in a circle, and one of the boys with a bottle in their hand smirking at you.

"Who's ready to get the party on!!" The boy chanted as everyone else joined in.

You laughed, with a sigh at the end as you notice the boy you were looking for still wasn't here and looked at your friend behind you who was pout for you to say 'yes'.

You only agreed because it was your party and nobody would want to look sad and alone at their on place.

his their lost.

You took a sit in the center on the circle taking the bottle from the boy with a bubbly giggle coming from your lips as you bend down just a little to place the bottle on the floor, "You,-" you pointed at the boy and let out your signature cheeky smile, "Go first, Tory"

The boy, Tory winked at you as he grabbed ahold of the bottle before twisting it and letting it spin around the room, turning towards everyone and slowly slowing down around the 3 lap in your direction.

You let out a cheeky smile once again as you watched the bottle closely wanting it to stop on you, he was a cute guy what did you expect, he wasn't a curly head like you type of guys you'd normal go for he had a jet black mullet which looked pretty damn good on him.

You smiled as he started crawling towards you and started to crawl with him as well meeting his halfway and looking into his eyes before smirking while your eyes traveled to his lips and let them fall onto yours.

The kiss was a little heated but not much, but you didn't spect Todd and his friend Dave to be at the bottom of the stairs watching you, and the people in the circle around you guys gasping and your friend looking at you in shock.

You shortly pulled away from the boy, as your eyes trailed upon the two boys watching you as your cheeky smile appeared slowly as your walked towards them giggling and full of smiles.

Once you arrived in front of them you let out a breath before wiping your lips letting them watch your lipstick smear on your wrist and onto your cheek just a little, "I thought you guys stood me up."

"Sorry about that, we were.. um, waiting for Marty right?" Todd quickly spoke up as he nudged Dave to help me out.

Dave pushed Todd off of him making you giggle, "Yeah, he ended up billing out because he was on punishment or something."

"Well that's too bad, he's missing out.. How about you guys join in on the game, 'Spin the Bottle'?"

Todd just looked at you and then at Dave once or twice before nodding his head and Dave followed right after, as you twirled around pulling them more into the basement loud room full of teenagers and people drinking, dancing and everything.

As the girls who were gathered in a group called out of you, and gotten your attention you rushed towards them with both of the boys hand in each of yours, Todd on your left with his best bud on the right of you holding onto your hand.

Todd followed after you was your were traveling through the crowd of people, Dave close by him with a smile on his face as he looked at Todd as they shared a look and listenly laughed and blushed together, but snap out of it once they heard their names getting called.

"This is Todd Haynes, and Dave Lizewski, aren't they adorable, they're like two retrievers, a golden one and a Labrador right?" You said with a giggle as you let out of their hands and pointed toward them.

Your friends look at your weird just a bit before, whispering and asking you if your were okay, you brushed them off, "If you going to be lame about it then leave the party.. Last time I checked, Y/N doesn't have to followed you barbie dolls orders."

Todd and Dave laughed behind you, as the girls looked them up and down with disgust and moved to another room, "Your so badass!"

"Thank you, kind sir." you said turning around and smiling at Dave.

"So,, are they're still games being played?"

You smiled at him before grabbing ahold of their hands again causing their heart to rush and bump even faster than before, as you pulled them into a big open spot in the basement, where you had left from to begin with, "Spin the Bottle is still going on, but after, lets play 7 minutes in heaven addition."

You called out to the crowd of people who were now coming back into the room with excitement with them and yelling and chanting.

Finally everyone was settled down, you were across from Dave and Todd next to Troy who quickly sat next to your as you were the first to sit down, Todd and Dave were a little disappoint but ignored it,

The game had be going on for a while now, and about more then half of the people spinned the bottle, and it was Daves turn, but all of his attention was turned to you, as you has Tory on your shoulder touching and and breathing all on your neck as you just giggled in response and made eye contact with Dave as he tried to look away but he just couldn't.

'spin the bottle pretty boy..' you mouthed towards him as he looked at you in shock before grabbing ahold of the bottle and twisting it around the room as it twirled around quickly and fast and slowly and slowly slowed down to the max and stopped spinning of a blonde haired girl, you didn't even remembered her name, Ally or Lily or something like that, you watch as Dave looked in the girl direction, and jealously slowly filled in your veins.

The girl mumbled something under a breath, and laughed while looking in Dave's direction, this pissed you off completely once you seen the disappointment on the boys face, "Your such a pussy"

You stated as you crawled towards Dave and into his lap with a small giggle at his bright red face and smashed your lips onto his, his hand slowly ran upon your thighs brushing his inner thighs before he gripped onto your waist and pulled onto your clothes, caused you to laugh as he slides in tongue into your mouth, you sucked on his tongue for a hot second as you pushed your tongue against his and sucking in all of the air and spit, saliva form his mouth into your as you pushed yourself more on him, more in to him craving, wanting and needing more then every.

You were completely token away by the moment, 'fuckkk-nerds really are the new deal,.. all of this I think I'm gonna-'

You were stopped by yourself needing air, you with almost panting and panicking in his lap as his lips were still on yours, you wanted more, but did you need air more?

Your thoughts were cut off before your on brain took control and placing your hands on his shoulder and pushing him back as you got a big huff of air, and started to pant slowly.

"Jesus Christ.. looks like you missed out what's your face?" you chuckled and gotten off the boy, feeling something but brushing it off, "Anyways, you guys are being pussies about kissing, let start 7 minutes in heaven."

Everyone agree with you quickly, and some disagreed and started to leave, while you just laughed and called them party-poopers and told everyone to get back upstairs to play near a closet, and the rest to out the basement without you with them.

The group of the game players arrived in the living room which was near your hallway closest, which was pretty empty beside the old materials your dad had to keep in there just incase he forget once in a while, but nobody had they'd move it out, or mind so you kept it in its safe place,, you'd asked everyone would they rather pick a name out of a basket or,, just spin the bottle like normal-which is now you would play in general but you didn't think anything of it.

You guys started the game with the bottle, just like original spin the bottle you'd just played, half of everyone had already spin the bottle and went into the closet.

It was mostly girls with their best friend, both coming out of the closet with a hickey which guys thought was 'hot', and jock boys going in with a hot chick which was rare because, it seemed like nobody was getting the people they actually wanted, which had you all giggles and full of laughs as your cheeky smile filled the room.

You'd been watching people get up from their spot and go into the hall and in the closet for like a good 20ish minutes,

Finally it was your turn, you looked around the room for a quick second before looking up at Todd and winking at you, people in the room would say you were enjoying yourself a little to much, but whatever,, its your party anyways.

You kissed the palm of your hand before letting it rest onto the bottle in the center of the floor, and closed your eyes and your hand twisted the bottle and let it spin on repeat, over and over finally opening your eyes as your watch it start to slow down and fall well-spin in the right direction you wanted it in,.

The bottle stopped onto Todd, which made you giggle silently, but were token back as your bottle move again into the middle of Dave and Todd, no in-between, it was literally pointing at Dave and Todd.

You were by surprised, but just laughed it off as everyone started to mumble thing, annoying thing.

"Shut up, shut up.. Jesus." You started, as you crawled up to get a better view of the boy, you let out a soft sight before hiding it with a giggle, and grabbed ahold of both of the boys hands just like before, "I'll take them both, that's fair right?"

You didn't tell anyone get a saying in what you were about to do, so your pushed yourself to your feet, pulling both of them with you, as you sassily walked down the hallway and opened the door for them.

"Oh no-no, ladies first!" Todd stated, bumping Daves shoulder as the other male quickly followed and said at the same time, "Yeah man,, ladies first."

You smiled a little and hopped into the closet first just as Dave came in right after you, and Todd followed by closely and shut the door.

"Soo.." Dave started, looking around the closet trying to get comfortable, "Excuse the messy, this is where my dad leaves his stuff, you know."

"No, no it's perfectly fine, what you mean-the party is find everything is fine." Todd stammer around words while looking down at you, Dave let out a small chuckle, "He means, we're glad you invited us to the party, and called us your friends and let us hangout with you this evening or night or whatever." You smiled at both of their words, before frowning and getting them to ask if you were okay.

"Im good, I just really thought you guys weren't gonna come, but I'm glad you guys did,, but I think the party could be even better for you too..-A pretty boy and a good boy, you know?"

Todd and Dave blushed at your words, but were a little confused.

The two boys looked at each other, a questionable look, as one eyes trailed to you and you looking back up at them with a smile, this smile was with pouty lips and a little bit of teeth.

"I don't think we follow.. Y/N,?" you shushed Dave as you pulled their hand, noticing neither of the let out as y'all gotten into the closet, your pulled their thumbs and put the other into a fist as you opened your mouth widely exposing your wet sloppier mouth to them and slid their thumbs into it, watching the surprise look grow on their face, you smiled as you closed your mouth and started to suck onto both of their thumbs as they watched you closely.

They slowly took advantage and started to thrust their thumbs into your mouth, one poking the gumminess on your right cheek while the other does the same onto your left, thrusting it faster and faster as your eyes rolled to the back of your head feeling their thumbs all around your mouth, pushing them farther and farther, until you let out a small gag, "Shit!,,Sorry.. sorry!"

You laughed and pulled their finger out of your mouth left a kiss on the tips of him before pulling them both closer to you, as you finally lashed your lips onto Todds and kissed him lovingly as one hand cupped his face and the other roamed about Daves body and under his shirt flicking his nipples as he let out small tiny whimpers.

You pulled away from Todd with a trail of calls spit mixture together and turned to Dave and kissed him the same way, but he was very much more confident and smooth, his hands with onto your ass and your dress slowly rises up, giving them a good view of your ass, you grabbed ahold of Todds again as you pulled his hand to your neck causing him to leave kisses upon you, and place his hand about your breast.

You were moaning not quite loudly but good enough for just the two boys to heard as they were both trailing kissing on your neck and small hickeys that they were sucking on, you giggle as your felt Todd bite you and Dave lick you, god it was like heaven, your quickly rested your hairs onto their hair brushing it with your fingers as you tugged on it just a little, but enough to make them both groan in pleasure.

As they were still kissing upon your neck you slightly pushed them off and turned making them unzip your dress, and faced them once again as your let it down to the floor, exposing your non-existing bra, and cloudy pink panties, just looking at the sight the boys moaned.

They quickly token of their shirts and shoes and pants, leaving themselves in their boxers before, taking command and connecting their lips to your tits, sucking onto your nipples hard and rough as your were sensitive and whined as the pool between your legs was dripping from your lips, leaving a huge leak from your thighs.

You placed your hands onto their hard member and palmed them though their boxers just a little tease as you felt a hint of their breath on your nipple, you moaned as one groan against you as the other nibbled against ur nipple and sucked it dry.

You moaned at their actions, the lick, sucking all or any kind of motion around your body you let out a sound, you let out a breathless laugh as you finally focused on get their dicks out, wrapping both of your hands around each of their member you started to stroke up and down, on repeat while watching them moan and whine against your chess as you paid close attention with that same cheeky smile.

"Sweeties!-Mmfph~.. Jesus.." you moaned as one of them moved their hand down you body to where you wanted them to be at most, your hand quickly rushed to move your undies out of the way and exposed your dripping cunt, wanting to be touch.

You quickly got a grip onto both of the members and started to stroke them more quicker and faster, Dave was enjoying this a lot, Todd was also, but he was too busy in his own pleasure to notice as he was thrusting into your fist and squeezing and suckling at your nipples and your neck, you smiled as you moaned and whimpers at them.

"Can-can I do something.. like more for you?" the boys stop at your question and pulled away nodding and letting out a simple 'yes'.

You dropped to your knees looking back up at them before squeezing your tits together and stroking Daves dick, before opening your mouth and showing him before placing you mouth onto his tip and sucking it, licking up all of the precum and any substance that was last on his manhood, you deepthroated him as he threw his head back against the wall, groaning and moaning lowly from his embarrassment of you making him feel so good.

You snapped your attention to Todd as you kept on with you head movement as you see the blonde boy watching you slowly and biting his lip,

You smiled at him as your stroke he member for a good second before smash your tits against his long chock and bumped your breast up and down stroking his chock more with you thick and plumed breast, you realized Dave was going to cum pretty soon do to his twitching in your mouth, you howled your checks against his dick stopping all of the movement.

You looked at Dave and gave him a small 'no, not yet' with his tip still in your mouth, you bounced your tits on Todd member quickly, going faster and faster making him grab ahold of Dave hand and squeeze it for dear life, "Please-b-baby,,... GOD!"

"Y/N, Mmm-Y/N-Y/N,, Y/N your like a goddess.. please..nggh!"

You giggle to yourself as your drop your breast from your hand and opened your mouth wide, as your tried and successfully got both of the big fat tips into your mouth, you wrapped your hand around them both and slide your fist up and down quickly, while babbling away, "Cum..cum for me,, can you do that.. Davey~ Toddy Bear."

Just as that was said, they both chanted your name while cumming into your mouth, a full on leak of cum dripping form your lips and rolling down your face, "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-babyyy~ Y/N!"

"Please~~Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-baby--Pretty girl--ohhh!"

You smiled as your sallowed most of the cum before sucking onto both of their dicks and get a few more drops to come out and leak onto your tongue, you giggle sending motion onto their dicks before Dave placed his thumb against your check and swiped up some cum before shoving it back into your mouth, "What a Goddess..,"

"Ours to keep, right?"

You nodded your head against his fingers that were still in your mouth, you whined as he released it from your mouth, leaving you empty and greedy for more.

"She didn't come did she.." Dave asked, as he looked at Todd, who smirked, "Lets make her come."

Todd and Daves eyes grew with lust and harden as they pushed you onto your dads work table thingy, and spread out your legs exposing your greedy, wet, sloppy, and hungry cunt,, "She's gotta cum twice, fuck the timer thingy, I want her cumin on our face and on our chocks."

You giggled bit which caused the boys to smash their faces into your big fat pussy lips, letting their tongue lick all around you as your head fell back and hands reached for this hair as your tugged and pulled on them but nothing worked, you felt more pressure and pleasure as your felt two of each of their fingers spreading your entrance out more and more, you thought you were about to die from having such a good time,

It was like you were getting spilt in half and you couldn't do anything about it, you giggled up a moan and whimpers and whines as your started to thrust your hips into their face wanting more, craving more and greed to having more.

You felt Todd laugh against your clit which caused you to let out a big mouth, "Please!!~~S-sirs!"

They smirked at the word your called them by, before both licking a long strike across your cunt clinking all of the wet pussy juice, and the new substance of your cum as your legs shook

It spilled out of your very quickly as they didn't stop sucking, licking, biting and pleasuring your.

"That was good, very pretty baby." Todd said as he raised up and smiled at you, "Lets have another." Dave quickly added as he kissed. your cheek, and Todd kissed your forehead.

Todd was first to start rubbing his mid-more-than-average size chock between your lips, and Dave followed right after with the same size just a fatter tip, you tend to feel dizzy and start babbling a lot more, you were chock-dunk for them, and they were enjoying it like heaven.

"Ah-look at your Y/N, pretty girl,, pretty, pretty." Dave mumbled in your ear and Todd was kissing down your stomach, they felt you legs shaking again and you body began to move on its own, trying to stop the fiction, and move and pull away but Dave and Todd had a grip on you.

You weren't going anything until they gotten their 2nd orgasm from you, and you knew it.

"Calm down darling, we're just taking care of you like what you did for us,, right Dave?"

Dave nodded as it teased your entrance with his tipped and ran his tip along your clit making you tense up and shake more, Todd spat onto your cunt and began to rub it in with his dick.

Just as your 2nd orgasm came, you cummed so hard it you legged didn't stop shaking, and you were panting heavily, "Such a Good girl, were going to give her a prize back right,,"

Dave and Todd fisted their chocks in their hands and came upon your cunt, covering it in a cozy white substance and smiled at you, before lifting you up between them as they covered you in kissed from you forehead, cheeks neck, breast, stomach and lips, and made sure you were perfectly fine and enjoyed your moment with them.

ANY MISTAKES/MISSPELLS TELL ME.

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allimocha · 3 months

Text

AlliMocha Fancuries FYC Post!

Hi Hello, Pip Pip Cheerio! Fancuries is here once again! And boy do I have something to share this FYC post.

So, I haven’t worked on Bittersweet X Daydream in a hot minute if I'm gonna be honest. A lot of other obligations have been taking time away from my main fanseries sadly. BUT I do have one new thing to show you guys regarding it.

…

Hear me out.

A redesign.

I KNoW I know I said no more redesigns, but after having these characters for so long, it's only natural that I'd want to change how they look. Specifically, there is only one character that I've redesigned so far anyway…

Lei Sandiego / Cure Spice

“𝘔𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘚𝘮𝘰𝘬𝘺, 𝘎𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘰𝘺𝘢𝘭 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘢! 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘚𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘦!”

Age: 16 (Second year/Sophomore)

Birthday: September 18th

Height: 5’6”

Ethnicity: Hispanic American

Cure color: Blue and Scarlet

Essence: Charismatic

Often referred to as “The school beauty”, Lei is admired by almost all of her peers. Her amazing charisma, along with her intimidatingly cool and beautiful looks immediately captures everyone’s attention. But despite this, she’s really just a big fashion geek. She prides herself in her impeccable style savvy-ness and studies the latest trends all the time. Lei is also a very confident person, sometimes to the point that it can be overbearing, but she’s never arrogant and always means well. She’s a hopeless romantic and is constantly trying to look for someone who likes her beneath her looks. Although she’s fashion-centric she’s also very athletic, being the co-captain of the girls' volleyball team, and so devotes time to doing both hobbies.

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That's not all, however, because I also have a new series that I've been working on. A crossover series if you will. Based on one of my favorite Disney movies of all time:

Sugar Rush! Precure

A group of girls go to the arcade after school every day to hangout. They excel at most of the consoles there, notably the racing games. One day, Vanelope finds a weird token like she had never seen before, as it was engraved with intricate patterns and a shiny gold. When she attempts to use it in a racing game, it flashes in the machine and floats out as another trinket (henshin item). At that moment, a mysterious person is creating havoc outside the arcade, clearly looking for something. He spots the trinket in Vanelope’s hand, and we all know what happens from here.

Yep! Cures based on the sugar rush racers from Wreck-It Ralph! So far, I only have 2 of their designs, but I'm still completely in love with where this is going. Speaking of which, lets show those two off!

Vanelope Von Schmitt / Cure Sweets

Age: 16

A very confident girl, Vanelope is definetly the ray of sunshine that brightens anyone’s day. She’s very friendly, but is also not afraid to tell it like she sees it. She also has a habit of being overly sarcastic or jokey, which can come off as annoying to others. Not really good at school and overly clumsy, so sometimes covers her negative emotions with jokes or sarcasm. Adores arcades and always states it’s her home away from home.

Tabitha Mathews / Cure Taffy

Age: 16

Very rich and spoiled and it definetly shows. She can be cocky and overbearing at times, but she’s got a good heart. One of the more popular girls in their school, and accells in all her extracurriculars. Due to her father being principal, people have rumored that all her grades were boosted due to nepotism, but that’s not true. She works hard to get where she is, and while vain and sometimes a little rude, she isn’t afraid to help others in need. Goes to the arcade to get away at times.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

So that’s all I’ve been working on so far! I can’t really say I’ve done much with my fanseries over the years, but hopefully you all like what I do have!

Byieeee~!

#art #black artist #precure #precure fanseries #pretty cure fanseries #fancuries fyc #fancure

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wmarximoff · 2 years

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Reader being Pietro’s bestfriend and Wanda having a crush on them but is too shy to say anything because she is popular and reader is apart of the unpopular dirtbags kind of group. The n reader confronts Wanda and it leads to Wanda’s first time. Pretty please with a cherry on top🥺🥺

freaks | w. maximoff

summary: high school isn't easy at all, especially for a kid as misfit as you. but just being in the wrong place at the wrong time, a bomb is dropped in your lap; because Wanda Maximoff, the popular, perfect girl with the kindest heart of all, actually has a crush on you. and she just happens to be your best friend's twin sister.

warnings (18+): underage characters, smoking, secondary characters using illicit drugs (weed), cursing, first time, smut, oral sex (Wanda receiving), penetration (Wanda receiving).

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

word count: 12k

A/N: sorry for the delay anon but i'm lazy as heck kjsfkjfs

anyway, this was fun to write (and actually pretty cute too). it's practically a romcom, really. hope you enjoy it!

|masterlist|

༺ᱬ༻

The cushions of the narrow couch you were sitting on felt cozy and comfortable under your thighs clad inside the material of a beat-up denim. But perhaps it wasn't for the furniture itself, which, although distinctly well maintained by a taste of carefully carved work, in no way appeared to be an expensive or even onerous piece in its cheap springs and foam.

It turns out that ever since your presence became something made frequent inside the Maximoff residence, you had found between those walls an air of coziness and reception that, like a warm maternal hug, dissipated the tense weight that was usual to fall on the muscles of your shoulders and your back.

The house of the family of four (just a mother and her three children, two teenagers and a child) was situated in one of the areas inhabited by the low-income citizens of the small town of Westview, beyond the gas station and the railroad tracks, a few blocks up from that trailer park that everyone knows from bad legends, but it's not like you need more than that to snuggle into the blandishments of that dark brown fabric sofa.

After all, it was enough to be accompanied by the presence of Pietro Maximoff, the eldest son (for twelve minutes, his sister occasionally reminded him of the fact in front of you), for you to know that the upheavals of the world would disappear inside your chest and, immersed in a bubble of comfort being with your best friend for about nine or ten months, there would be nothing that could hold you back for so long.

Pietro just had that effect on people; he was a good guy, a receptive young man of your age who used to be an esteemed figure by those who came in contact with the recurring good humor that guided him – but, like a typical misfit high school kid, there was nothing about him that pleased everyone at all. Not like his sister did so masterfully, at least.

The boy, dressed in khaki shorts and a long blue blouse as thin as a sapphire stone that showed off his similarly colored irises, was thus sitting half sprawled with his legs spread as if he had fallen there and not gotten up for a long time, parallel to you, in a small dark armchair that was only distanced from the sofa by a scrawny coffee table set there, of cheap pale wood that he used to prop his heels put into a pair of worn out running shoes.

To your right and to his left, perched in a chair pulled out from under the dining table, Darcy Lewis was the girl with long brown hair who had her upper back leaning against the back of her chair. Her clear, intent eyes so solemnly bound to the phone screen she kept blinking close to the tip of her nose, behind the thin glass lenses of a pair of dark plastic-framed prescription glasses.

Pietro and Darcy, then friends almost out of convenience because no one else was close to them (she being a weird amalgamation of a know-it-all geek and a half-inconvenient sarcastic little shit, he just an immigrant kid with a weird accent who slipped up at times and a sense of humor doubtful), they took you in because the others didn't seem all that interested in keeping you close – not when you were the only new kid around with a tattoo hidden somewhere on your body and a few more pairs of piercings than was acceptable for your neighbors dangling stylishly from your ears.

The boy dressed in the blue shirt, then seated opposite you, was expertly rolling a thin weed cigarette with his fingertips curled towards his athletic pecs in an intent gaze at the action exerted on his digits.

He then stuck his tongue out, sliding it down through the crack in his parted lips, using his saliva to glue the loose end of the rolling paper against the skinny little body of the cigarette which, when it was finally ready to be smoked, he tried to tuck it into the corner where his lips ended as if he wanted to perform a mobster from the height of the twentieth century.

But he was only sixteen-almost-seventeen, as young as he could be, and that was why Pietro only appeared to be what he was at that moment; a disheveled kid with poorly homemade bleached hair done with the help of his grumpy sister (the brown roots were showing in the crook of his head, giving him an air of sloppiness) with a long joint lying in the corner of his mouth.

He then leaned with his spine forward so his right hand went for the small pale blue plastic lighter set on the coffee table, before pouring his thumb across the stone so that the spark ignited the flame that lighted the end of the weed cigarette, from which he drew a long, lingering drag to spread the thick smoke through his nostrils in a state of mind imbued with a zealous tranquility, leaning his back against the armchair.

Behind your own red-filtered cigarette dangling between your lips, you raised an amused brow at your friend's slouched figure.

“Fucking stoner, man,” you mussed, albeit in airs of morose jocularity that inferred a little chuckle on Darcy's part, “That shit gonna fry all your brain cells someday, you know that? Make you dumber than you already are.”

He took another swig of the joint before fixing you with a pair of droopy blue eyes, since this was the second or third of the day he'd smoked – around his firm chin, the tiniest fuzz of an occasional dark beard was already threatening to arise with the emergence of age, each day closer to adulthood. One day, he would be a handsome man, because for now he was just a boy who promised to be a good-looking adult.

“And that shit gonna kill you someday,” with a little finger movement, waving his limp left hand, he pointed to the nicotine cigarette that was blistered between the index and middle fingers of yours, raised right at your face.

You smiled and so did he, half on his side, still lying on the armchair cushions like a misplaced decoration.

“At least I won't die stupid like you.”

“Just kiss him already man, for Christ's sake,” Darcy grumbled in a tone of shared humor, before reaching for the joint from Pietro's hand and bringing the small cylindrical body to her to draw a swig of weed for herself.

“Nah,” you expressed a small smile flanked by smoke, “As much as I know Piet wants it so much, he's not really my type, sorry.”

“What do you mean he's not your type, huh?” Darcy gave you a funny look from behind the glasses placed in front of her sharp blue eyes, as if she wanted to poke a small lump hidden inside you.

“I thought his last name was Maximoff. That sure is your type, sister.”

There was a second puff of smoke until the boy, then already in a somewhat lethargic action when clouded by the cognitive effect of the cannabis he was smoking, lifted the back of his head from the backrest and lowered his chin, squeezing with his eyelids that wandered from Darcy's smile to your brow furrowed in a bewildered slant, only to redo the act once again a little more confused, cinching a flash of fur from his forehead with the thick, dark-haired brows above the blue eyes sort of gleaming with a curious blaze.

“Y/n, what’s she talking about…?”

“Your mom, duh,” was your immediate response, a mock-masked deliverance dripping from your throat, a smirk taut in the unnaturally twitching muscles on your face, “Ms. Maximoff's got it going on, right? I mean, gosh, she really looks hot in her waitress uniform.”

“Dude, I always knew MILFs were your type, you totally look like you would do a MILF.”

Darcy looked back at you with an air of laughter as her chin tipped in your direction, the lack of sobriety evident in her airy actions, which in no way complied with the implications of the first comment bestowed on you.

“Well, and who doesn’t like MILFs?” you smiled burlesquely, to which Darcy readily acquiesced with a sharp nod.

“But yeah Pietro, your mom is like, hot. The hottest MILF among all MILFs. So hot.”

“So hot,” you repeated in a profuse drag of a cigarette, pointing to the girl sitting next to your right knee that showed a beam of skin through a long slit in the fabric of your pants.

“Very, very hot.”

“Like, super hot.”

The platinum-haired boy, meanwhile, only let out a loathsome grunt as his drunken face contorted in repulsive distaste for the idea you and Darcy offered him about his own mother, shaking his head firmly as if he wanted to shake off these thoughts as if they were really mosquitoes pestering him to sleep at night—something that brought on you, of a good-natured nature, and on Darcy, just too stoned for her own good, a long round of loud, juicy laughter that caused the muscles in you abdomen to ache in hot cramping.

“Dude, gross! That's disgusting, she's my mom! What the fuck!"

Though a little unsteadily, his left fingers hooked against the fabric of a red pillow that was brought up and then hurled toward him with just a flick of the tendons of the young man's strong shoulder, which depended on minor physical labor to add a little more on the household income.

It was a quick if somewhat lingering half second, when your gaze only caught a glittering blur pouring air to shatter against your face.

The fluffy object then collided with a soft thud against the top of your left cheekbone, pushing the muscle of your neck back against the back of the sofa, as your senseless fingers detached from the still-lit half-smoked cigarette, whose butt fell against the pillow that soon had its fabric sprinkled in a small hole with burnt and blackened edges.

“Shit, Pietro–!”

Darcy, with cheeks as rosy as a pair of ripe tomatoes against her usually pale, lifeless alabaster countenance, seemed a second away from writhing into a convulsive laugh that would soon take the form of a fit of choking vomit, and you soon treated catching the remains of the cigarette between your right index finger and thumb, before pressing the tip against the pale porcelain pot that was the makeshift ashtray to then stand on your knees, scrutinizing the damage done to the mobile.

“Shit,” you repeated, albeit in a slightly lowered tone, the palms of your hands resting on your bent and exposed knees, “Shit, see what you did, dickhead? You ripped a goddamn hole in the pillow, you jerk!”

“What–?!” the boy then scrambled to his feet in exasperation, suddenly slipping into a layer of momentary sobriety, rounding the coffee table to walk over to your side in rather worried steps, “What the– oh my God, oh my God, my mom’s going to kill me—”

The sound of the front door being opened so close and then being closed as it was before, was what spread throughout the house of close rooms, succinct and with a small and short square footage composition.

The walls of your stomach collapsed in on you as Pietro shot you an alarmed look that flickered a troubled blue, turning pale as if the blood was suddenly draining from his cheeks. For a second he looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car on the road.

“We're fucked.”

“I know.”

But desperation didn't rage among the three of you for as long as it would have; like a bucket of water dispersed in a still-igniting spark, putting out a coming fire, who came into the living room was not the figure of Ms. Maximoff dressed in her signature red and white ketchup-stained waitress uniform, but only a young Wanda Maximoff, Pietro's younger twin sister, who had a pair of headphones screwed into both her ears, under the profuse bundles of her dark-brown hair.

“Pietro…?” the low voice came from far away, as footsteps approached the room with heavy combat boots high-laced on her ankles, “What are you…?”

Wanda's irises wandered from Pietro to then you and Darcy, as her index and middle fingers, with extensions adorned in a series of silver rings, hooked onto the long wires of her headphones to pull them down from inside her ears.

“Wanda!” you muttered under your breath, because your unconscious was taken over by the image of her standing there, and there was nothing else to say but call her to you, “Wanda. H-hey, Wanda. Hi.”

“…Hi, Y/n.”

You gasped for a bit as you opened and closed with your lips, saliva hardening in the back of your throat at the pretty figure of the girl dressed in dark clothes and chains dangling from the belt that threaded around the waistband of her black skirt and around her milk-white neck, with pointy pendants that alluded to the mysticism she held dear.

And she just brought out something inside you. After all, Wanda Maximoff was affable, soft, beautiful and gentle as a bouquet of red roses, the prettiest of them all.

At Westview High, everyone knew who she was when she walked through the halls, the only girl who could walk shoulder to shoulder with the cool kids clique even if she hadn't gotten out of her Evanescence listening phase – even if her wealth was not as capital as theirs. Everyone wanted a little bit of her, from the kind, generous, gorgeous girl, essential member of the academic decathlon team and debate group.

A keen library goer, consumer of thick, hard-to-read books, who kept high grades as well as the good will of the people like it was second nature to her. A school prodigy. A popular necessity.

And Wanda went out of her way to be extremely considerate of her requirements. It just so happens that she was never quite able to share that said kindheartedness with you, something that has always given you doses of discontent inside your chest – after all, even after almost a whole year of seasons all past since your permanent installation in the small-town blandices, Wanda never bothered to look you straight in the eye for more than three or so seconds.

“This–this isn’t what it looks like, Wanda,” cried Pietro, who raised a hand to his sister across the room.

“We’re just,” you tried, “Well, we were—”

“Of course we sure as hell weren't smoking pot in your living room,” Darcy muttered to the ceiling, still sitting in her chair, “I mean minus Y/n, because she's such a boring bitch,” there was a snort on the part of the bespectacled girl.

“Darcy, shut up!”

“C’mon, what a fucking surprise Piet, everybody knows you smoke pot!”

And then when Wanda's gaze woven in a curious green latched onto yours, an air-tied knot whose ends met between you and her, you pressed your lips together in a single line, because a thin layer of blush turned pink on her high cheeks, which flushed like a little porcelain doll.

You straightened your posture, but the girl with the long, silky dark hair only looked away, aiming for the dirty porcelain bowl set on the cheap wooden table.

“I,” she whispered, like a shy little mouse with rosy cheeks, “I won't… I won’t say anything to mom, don't worry about it. Just… just clean this mess up before she gets home.”

There was a flash of green gaze that flashed into your eyes like a beacon on the horizon, but then it faded in less than a second because Wanda seemed to relinquish eye contact with you, again lowering her gaze away from your face, hiding her pretty pale eyes behind a thick curtain of dark hair.

She suppressed her lips in a thin, rosy line, seeming to shrink into her blackish-brown, long-sleeved blouse. Wanda opened her mouth as if to say something, but then clasped her lips together again in a sign of resignation.

“I–I'm going to my room.”

And the girl barely waited for an answer from any of the three parties before she left for the house, leaving like a deserting spirit. You blinked once, and then turned your nose towards Darcy.

“Dude, did I do something wrong…?”

“She’s probably just scared of you,” teased the girl with the glasses, “You know, she dresses all edgy and stuff but she's just so sweet and kind like this little black bunny and you... well, man, you spilled cigarette ash all over her mother's couch, what the heck.”

When she laughed at her own joke, something in you faltered for half a second.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” you mussed awkwardly, screwing the palm of your right hand against the skin of the back of your neck, “I… I guess.”

“Whatever, Wanda’s a weirdo,” Pietro's voice came from your side, even if half muttering to himself, “Just–just please help me clean this up, dammit. My mom’s going to kill me, I swear...”

ᗢ

A gust of annoyed air had left the gap between your lips open for what was perhaps the tenth time in a row allotted to that meager period of time that spanned a lengthy fifteen minutes of a rather dull morning – at least that's what you was, when your weary gaze sagged across the raised square screen of your phone, towards the upper right corner, and there you were faced with the digital clock marking the scorching hour of nine thirty-seven on a hot morning in Wednesday.

You sighed slowly, warm air draining from your lungs and your chest deflating into your unbuttoned flannel shirt, through the straps of your thin tank top, because there was nothing to do other than that.

You might as well proclaim your notes in your notebook as Miss Harkness, who was standing right in front of long rows of other bustling teenagers who, like you, huffed bored air out of their mouths into their faces, dictated to her history class to all the school kids in their seats.

However, as much as you were interested in the class (as, in fact, you were), it turns out that Miss Harkness just had a habit of getting quite carried away in her classical prose, and even though the middle-aged woman in the lilac waistcoat was one of your favorite teachers, nothing there was enough to capture your diverted attention.

Because you, moreover, barely had any thoughts floating around in your head that weren't entirely focused on Wanda Maximoff and the esoteric wonder that came along with her, as if it were her own shadow.

And, given the situation similar to yours in which Wanda found herself in that same class, it was she who was sitting there next to you, taking note of everything the teacher said about that historical event that honed the details of the modern country founding; Wanda was just a pretty smart type of student, it's true. The girl urged you on in a superhuman way.

Yet, at that morning and like every other morning before, the two of you hadn't even exchanged enough sentences for you to actually engage in a conversation with the other girl. In fact, you hadn't even spoken to her at all.

You knew she was deep enough in her notes to having someone to piss her off. With the chin supported by the hand supplanted by the left elbow raised to the face of your table, your gaze headed towards Wanda, who was seated to your right and attracted you like a damn lodestone, in an inevitable magnetic dazzle; in the same room in the company of several people, Wanda was always the one who caught your attention under her fingertips to keep.

Just the appeal, the idea, the unknown, they were enough to find you rambling about your classmate – Wanda interspersing her diligent attention between Agatha and her own dark-covered notebook where the digits of her fingers, lined with rings, wrote so cunningly in a black ink pen, one opalescent knee crossed by the other under the table, the miniskirt exposing her pale, firm thighs that were suddenly engulfed by high dark stockings that rose above the confines of her knees.

And it admired you, how her brown hair seemed to modulate accentuated shades of honey color when laid out by the rays of sunlight that entered the room through the thick glass windows that adorned the walls adjacent to the tables you occupied respectively. How her irises looked like two sparkling emerald stones when highlighted by a profuse smoky dark eyeliner liner around her waterline – her naturally thick, long lashes adorning her stylish, heavy makeup.

There was the leaf-shaped pendant in dark silver dangling from a thin chain that flowed across her attractive bosom, between the sharp collarbones that poked out of her thin black blouse, adorned with strands of long, silky light brown hair; the necklace between her breasts, the exposed skin there looking so soft, a tiny mole situated high on her right breast that you just wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss and feel through your tongue.

“Miss Y/l/n.”

The teacher's voice called out of your thoughts between the heads of young people, which caused a sea of eyes to all turn to you, like creatures from another world, a pack of animals in the forest looking to a flashlight.

Even Wanda's gaze got caught, which for half a broken second turned to you only for when, upon catching your face already turned towards her, she only turned to the filled pages of the notebook placed between her forearms, like if you really were just an eminent pest. She doesn't know who I am and yet she doesn't give a damn about me, huh.

“Can you answer the question, Miss Y/l/n?”

Miss Harkness's tight, dark curls swayed in your direction when you look at her, standing there on the other side of the classroom and in front of the blackboard cluttered with notes made all in powdered white chalk.

“Eh,” you mussed, somewhat unimpressed by the teasing smirks that were beginning to form on unfriendly faces, containing in your grunt a sudden roll of disinterested eyes.

“What's the question again, please?”

“Pff, sucker.”

A voice pierced the veil of silence that had fallen over the other youngsters, the voice of that smug boy Tony Stark, which soon erupted into group giggles that spilled back and forth into the classroom like a flock of flustered parrots.

“Alright, alright, cut it off for Christ's sake!” Miss Agatha Harkness cried out somewhat aggravated, waving both her hands in front of her body in a rather weary way.

“None of you here is in position to laugh and you all know it very well! Would any of you like to answer the question for Miss Y/l/n instead, huh? Somebody? Nobody? Well, that’s what I thought.”

The teacher's simple, elaborate tone sounded an octave higher than usual, drawing your attention towards the woman in question. You looked at her, but Wanda's gaze burned to the flesh of your right cheek, before glancing at Miss Harkness another time.

And then, a hand with nails tinted in dark polish rose above the others' heads, not at all hesitant in her actions as she did so. Wanda, of course, was willing to speak up when no one else did. You looked at her with an air of interest, straightening your posture against your hard, clear plastic chair.

“Yes, Miss Maximoff?” Agatha nodded, to which the young girl immediately lowered her right arm.

“The Church created the Court of the Holy Office in the thirteenth century, and it was supposed to prevent people who had deviated from Christianity from leaving. They used various mechanisms of persecution and punishment for that,” narrated Wanda with exquisite mastery.

“That's what led to the Inquisition and, after some time, the Salem witch hunt, which actually started in France in the fifteenth century.”

You focused your eyes on her for a couple of seconds longer than what would be considered healthy for the habit to do. It was because of looking at her so intently, however, that you found the other girl giving you a single, chaste glance out of the corner of her eye, which then retreated away, as if in an internal game with both parts of her brain; one wanted to look at you, and the other didn't.

“Finally, great,” Agatha brandished.

“At least someone here is paying attention in class. You are correct indeed, Miss Maximoff. See, Miss Y/l/n, this is what happens when you actually listen to your teacher and not just daydream looking at your classmates all morning.”

"I– what?! I didn't—!” A heat spread from the tips of your ears, all the way down to your cheekbones, your neck, and your shoulders inside your unbuttoned shirt.

Someone stifled a laugh on a cough from behind your seat. Fuck.

Wanda remained silent, and you wouldn't even dare look to the side, at her, who so relentlessly strayed her curious gaze in your direction, her chin slightly tilted at a broken angle to the side of her left shoulder. Mortification in bright crimson still burned the flushed skin of your cheeks at the pretty girl's gaze.

“That's what you heard, heartbreaker,” the teacher waved her witch-like hand, “Now, please, everyone pay attention here for another fifteen minutes until class is over, will you? I swear I want to be here as much as you kids do.”

And then there was another bout of chatter from Miss Harkness in a waistcoat buttoned over a white shirt printed with corny light blue flowers. Perhaps, if you hadn't covered your eyes with the open palms of both your hands, you would have caught the tiny fond smile that tugged at the corner of Wanda's peachy lips.

ᗢ

It didn't take long, with some minutes passed right after lunch time, for you to sneak into the four closed walls of a second-floor women's bathroom stall so that, in such a way, you could give yourself the courtesy of blowing smoke from your cigarette, scorching in peace. With your back resting peacefully against the laminated plastic of the scrawny cabin wall, you leaned your back, staring sluggishly at the pale plaster ceiling. It’s not like the time and space around your miserable existence matters all that much.

The cigarette that appeared between your parted lips had a flickering tip like a firefly in the night flickering in the dark night, and the smoke that just sailed up to the ceiling was thin and wavering, fading from reality like a utopian idea.

Near the flush valve, painted onto the white tile, an elaborate graffiti in black marker pen penned two names joined by a mathematical plus sign – something like “KATE + YELENA” etched near your right elbow, a promise perpetuated in the inerasable act of a young heart lacerated by a still budding idea of what warm love would be pulsing inside someone’s chest.

Behind an opaque veil of cigarette smoke, you considered doing the same with your own name and Wanda Maximoff's, until you suddenly gave up on the idea as it was supposed to be an impulsive lapse in need.

So you just sighed, shaking your head from side to side, getting rid of those silly thoughts as if you had quaked them out of your brain. The only sound that erupted through the silence encrusted in the cabins was that of the avid drip of a poorly closed sink. Dripping. And dripping. And stopping. Until a trio of female voices burst through the front door.

“Shit–!”

In an act of open desperation, you just dropped your still lit, half-smoked cigarette down into the open toilet, into the still water.

“I swear, that's what she said,” the evident tone of voice that reached your ear was distinctly that of Pepper Potts, the girl a year older than you who was the head of the cheerleading squad.

“Rogers dumped her because he's dating Barnes!”

“That's weird, I thought it was Wilson this time.”

Just behind her, the second voice couldn't be anyone other than Monica, the only child of principal Rambeau and that, like her friend, everyone knew who she was; a genuinely nice girl from the lacrosse team who turned out to be Pietro's crush for as long as you knew him.

“No, Wilson used to date Barnes who now dates Rogers. It’s hard to keep up, I know.”

Pepper clarified it to her friend, and for a second it sounded like she was planning to start a new sentence about the ups and downs of her peers' social-love life when, after a broken half lapse of silence within those with walls, the strawberry-blonde girl’s voice was then charged with a queasy tone, which indicated a nose twisted in repugnance that you couldn’t see behind the cabin’s closed red door.

“Ugh, what is that smell…?”

“Cigarette smoke, I guess.”

Your heart slammed and disarmed inside the middle of your chest, because the answer was based on Wanda Maximoff's delightfully low voice. She was there, in the company of her friends who reapplied makeup to their faces. Well, fuck. You gulped like a criminal in trial.

You scarcely dared to breathe accurately between your nostrils, but it's not like your lungs, at the sound of her melodic voice, know how to do anything but just inflate and deflate sparingly like a pair of flat tires.

“That’s disgusting,” Pepper clicked with her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

“It must have been Y/l/n, everyone knows she comes here to smoke after lunch,” said Monica, who seemed to have a crooked joyful smile in her voice.

“I swear, Wanda, she was practically drooling on you earlier today. Heart eyes and all, totally head over heels. It was actually kinda cute to watch.”

“She… she was?” it was small, almost inaudible from your listening hiding position, away from the eyes of those who spoke.

There was something shy that could be pointed out in Wanda's voice, but there was something also glistening with the tiniest glimmer of hope that you couldn't help but notice. Something that lulled your senses and made you ponder about the direction of this conversation so intimate that, for a second, you felt like you were crossing an invisible line of common sense. Maybe it was wrong. A mistake. Or perhaps it was just a weird type of unconventional luck, even.

It was like you couldn’t be there at all. Because you, in the wrong place at the wrong time, were just invading Wanda’s privacy; that’s how it felt, at least. It was as if the walls of the cabin were going to swallow you and squash you to death like the stomach of a dark creature.

“I really don't understand what you see in that girl, Wands,” it's Pepper's turn to say, “You should just give Jarvis a chance. He asked you out to eat Indian food, didn't he? You love Indian food.”

“I hate Indian food,” Wanda reiterated to the other girl, “And he doesn’t give a damn about me, anyways. He just likes hanging out with people who have high grades. And you just want me to date him because he's Tony's brother, and if I do date him you'll have someone to go on a stupid double date with.”

“It's not that, geez,” was the head cheerleader's reply, “It's just that he's on the decathlon team like you and he's graduating this year, so you can date a college boy in your senior year. Damn, I'd like to date a college boy my senior year."

“You're already in your senior year,” Monica reminds her, “And you’re dating Tony.”

“Yes, for that very reason.”

Something about that suggestion didn't appeal to your taste at all, still tucked inside the cabin as you were. Just the thought of Wanda dangling from Jarvis Stark's arm, a known prick among the students other than those who made up his intimate circle of handpicked relationships, was enough to ignite an acrimonious revulsion in you, which even seemed to want to devour your muscle cells from the inside out.

That bitter feeling running down the side of your tongue, pouring out between your teeth, was nothing to do with your half-smoked cigarette which then floated down the toilet like a sunken ship. And you just didn’t want to think so hard about why the slightest mention of the idea of Wanda dating Jarvis fueled such a revolting feeling within your ribcage.

“Besides,” the Potts girl continues her own line, oblivious to your deep displeasure.

“Unlike that Y/l/n girl, Jarvis has a guaranteed future in his father's company for when he finishes his graduation. And look, don't get me wrong, but that girl is either going to end up in jail or dead or both, and that's probably before she even turns thirty. Ugh, c’mon Wanda, she's just another freak. You can do way better than that. I mean, you even have a shot to be prom queen this year if you start dating Jarvis.”

“I don't wanna be prom queen, Pepper. Everyone already knows it's going to be you and Tony, anyways,” said Wanda, in a tone that emulated lapses of discomfort towards the other young woman, “And don't say that about Y/n, that's not true.”

And it surprised you, in fact, because you had never heard Wanda be so incisive with her words before. Or even someone using such a tone of voice when addressing Pepper Potts.

“She's not… a freak, she’s funny. And smart. And she’s actually pretty sweet when you really get to know her. I... I never talk to her much when she comes over to my house because she's always hanging with Pietro and Darcy, but... she just... she just seems nice to have around, you know? Something about her is… soft. She once made me laugh until juice almost came out of my nose.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your memory traveled back to that day, at a dinner night guided by the traditional house stroganoff, were Ms. Maximoff made sure that your presence was there, at the dinning table with her and her children. The tips of your ears and the skin of your shoulder burned to embers that carried the ashes of that night, but it was as if that heat itself soothed the anxious twinges in your bristling veins.

It was the first time your eyes were ever pleased to witness a sincere laugh burst from within Wanda’s lungs.

And no one had ever looked as stunning in front of you as she did back in that day so many weeks ago, with her head thrown back and her eyes squinted, cheeks flushed in such a lovely rosy layer of flesh, shoulders swaying inside an ancient rock band shirt, peach mouth open only to reveal the two front teeth partially larger than the rest, like a scrunched nose bunny.

So genuine and so pure that your heart turned on itself – and if you dared to do so, you would say it was that day she usurped the rights of your feelings.

“And, uh...” Wanda's voice was small this time, in a timid, measured edge, “She's... she... she's pretty. Like, really… really pretty.”

It was like an electric current that ran from your ribs to the flesh of your cheek, heating the tops of your cheekbones. The saliva in your mouth, still vicious like a full-bodied drink, only evaporated and disappeared, making the wetness pooling in the palms of both of your sweaty hands even more evident. It was as if fireworks erupted in a hot red roar inside the walls of your stomach.

“She’s hot! I once heard that she had a hidden tattoo somewhere,” it was Monica's turn to cry out in an air of laughter.

“She’s a freak,” growled the Potts girl again, in an eye roll, “And you two are just too squeamish for your own good. She’s not the only person with earrings out there, Jesus.”

“Seriously, Pep, look at Wanda, her type is obviously not those preppy boys like that Stark douche. Girl, her type is delinquents. Bad girls. You know, just girls as a whole. Someone to listen to, I don’t know, Iron Maiden with her or whatever emo shit she listens to.”

“Yeah, got it, geez,” muttered the older girl in a bad way, “It's just what I think.”

“Well, you thought wrong then.”

“Really, Monica, just shut up–”

A few more frivolous conversations drifted over the trio of girls, who took off out of the bathroom minutes later, striding farther and farther away when the subject in question strayed into something that was of no interest to you at all. You blinked once, and then twice. It was like being at the bottom of the ocean and coming back to the surface abruptly.

You breathed. You just breathed. Soundlessly, your right hand slipped to the latch of the laminated plastic door, which opened out in a continuous squeak.

You gulped down the saliva sitting on the back of your tongue. Meeting your eyes in the quadrangular mirror placed in front of the cabin from which you exited, the air still reeking of the remnants of your cigarette mixed with Wanda's perfume, it did not surprise you at all that your cheeks reflected in the glass were like two reddish cherries burning over your boiling flesh.

“…Fuck.”

ᗢ

A few succinct days were passed one after another in front of your secret incident in the girl's bathroom stall (there was no more dignified labeling for such an occurrence than an incident as pleasant as it was also uncomfortable, it's true).

The entire seventy-two hours that followed were then grounded in several thoughtful cigarettes burning between your aching lips, the lighter's flame flickering in the ashes of broken reasonings, considerations and daydreams taking puffs of smoke, all which circled in your brain as if it were the moon that gravitates around the planet, as if space itself had usurped the oxygen from your bloodstream and changed it to Wanda’s name.

Wanda. Your cigarette smoke burned Wanda's name in your lungs. Your eyelids blinked Wanda's emerald gaze out of your sleepy eyes. Just Wanda. Only Wanda. Wanda Maximoff, red, green and black, a dream and a doom.

Your everyday contemplations then became the shelter of the other girl's tender jadish irises blooming in shades of a cordial green, like the green of spring pastures, and only the Maximoff girl could have been able to capture your attention even when you were within the walls of your own room, away from her piercing vision.

You couldn’t help but glance so assiduously at her when she was wearing nothing but partially buttoned black shirts on her chest and increasingly revealing miniskirts, whose fabric didn't even bother to cover the hollow of her soft, pale thighs worn down in tall, dark stockings.

Like a delightful reverie, she came in a spectral crimson form at night, only to disappear early in the morning sun. Four days were enough for you to bury your face in the middle of your pillow and let out a cavernous and frustrated yell vanish there, in vain trying to engage in a battle already lost since its beginnings against something that.

Like the addictive nicotine contained in the extensions of your countless smoked cigarettes, every cell in your body clamored for more of her. It was as if your lips would bleed if you lacked the taste of her kiss for even one more day.

If Wanda were a witch endowed with mystical gifts, you would sure be bewitched by her addictive charms with an intangible scarlet grip around the outline of your neck – for the length of the halls between class periods, the cafeteria packed with students heads at lunchtime (campaigns for prom royalty were starting to brew little by little) or even on the bleachers smeared out of the faculty buildings by the warm sun, you searched with intent eyes for the slightest trace of her stunning presence, like a hungry dog hunting something down to satisfy its starvation.

And you could barely be sure in your own limping functions of what it was that led you there when it was that your feet, in untied shoes, marched under a stifling blanket of the scorching spring sun, even if the excuse paramount was that you just wanted her brother's company by your side to smoke a cigarette – even if Pietro wasn't into smoking conventional cigarettes at all, just like you also weren’t into smoking what he had to offer either.

Stepping hard on the concrete of the sidewalk without a definite purpose at the heart of your rash actions, like a maze with only one exit, your feet instinctively led you up the two entry steps of the Maximoff residence – the newly painted one storey house that contained within its structures two bedrooms and only one bathroom.

That's where your right index finger, so accurate, searched for the bell to press with the tip of your digit and, after the miserable seconds that followed the act, who came to meet you was that same brunette girl who stole the gift of sleep during the nighttime.

Wanda looked a little different on that scorching Sunday afternoon of sunny skies and wispy clouds sprinkled around the cerulean sky dome, without any hint of dark makeup to adorn the moss-colored puddles that flanked her sharp pupils to be found in her natural beauty, albeit the long coffee-colored strands that were tucked behind the contours of her ears, in the usual casual way she liked to stylish them.

“Y/n?” it was a stunned tone at your offered smile as her chin tilted toward her left collarbone, one corner of a dark brow cocked in an expression nothing short of stupefied, her eyes enlarged in size.

“Hey, hi Wanda. How’re you doing?"

“I–I,” she huffed for a bit, “I'm fine... I'm fine, thank you. You?”

“Oh,” you smiled, “I’m great, thanks.”

Wanda's rosy mouth tightened into a line at your sight, and you couldn't help but notice the fact that the way she shifted her weight from one bare leg to the other beneath the dark material of her front-buttoned skirt, as if she wasn't quite sure what to do there at the door of her own home – surely you weren't a face she expected to find there.

Seconds passed in a slow swoop when a bird hummed in a nearby tree. Wanda just played fidget with the handfuls of rings that adorned the pale extensions of her right fingers, twisting, pulling and touching them with her left fingernails carpeted in dark nail polish chipped at the tips. There was a cigarette leaning behind your right ear.

“So,” you then began rather casually, and your voice drew her attention from her own clean shoes, as the other girl saw herself as being imbued with a somewhat restless silence, “Is Pietro at home? I sent him some texts, but he hasn't replied for a while.”

“No, he… he left a while ago,” she hissed a little too quickly, like a hamster's squeak, “He's grounded. You know, from burning a hole in the pillow that day.”

You cinched a flash of fur between your brows in a funny way, breaking a curious little smirk at the corner of your lips.

“He's grounded,” it was echoed slowly, as if to get your bearings, “But he left...?”

“Yeah,” Wanda shrugged into her plain blouse, “My mom took the afternoon shift at the diner and Lorna went out to play at her friend's house, and he's been bugging me for ages about setting up a date with Monica... and she agreed to go out with him today, so… he went out with her.”

“Huh,” you mumbled thoughtfully, “That's cool, I guess. I mean, he talks about her all the damn time… it’s kinda annoying actually. Even if it’s cute.”

“Yeah,” she half-chuckled, not moving her lips that much, “I know.”

There was a silence that bordered the two of you for a few more seconds as in an intangible fence made of mutual discomposure, a view a bit awkward to witness from afar, almost like a lighthearted conversation taken disinterestedly between two strangers inside a crowded bus or in a long bank line just to pass the time.

Wanda was still fidgeting with her own fingers, soundless in a dull quietness as if a lump stuck in her throat forbade her to speak words to you, and you just unpretentiously shoved the palms of both your hands into the back pockets of your baggy jeans, your side teeth nibbling the flesh on the inside of your cheeks as you did.

“I,” you muttered under your breath, nodding your head at an unasked question, filling the gap of silence between you and Wanda, “I think I'm gonna go home then—”

“You–you can wait for him here if you want!”

You blinked for a second, lifting your eyebrows to the middle of your forehead, almost touching your hairline. Wanda's pink lower lip was pressed between a wall of her upper teeth, and her cheeks flushed with a remarkable heat. Cute, you thought with yourself. So goddamn cute, oh my God... you wanted to hold her in your arms just to place a warm kiss in the middle of her forehead skin.

“Fine,” was a casual agreement, “I'd like to stay, then. If that doesn't bother you, of course.”

She then shrugged, “No, being alone at home is kinda boring sometimes. And, well,” her right fingertips swept behind her ear a strand of hair that had come loose from its previous spot there, “You… you're cool, Y/n.”

Your lips tightened when, even with her head aiming halfway down the floor, Wanda looked at you in a flash of moss green that flowered between her dark, thick, heavy doll-like lashes. Into the crop top you wore over your shoulders, your chest heaved and deflated severely against your ribs.

“Right. You're cool too, Wanda.”

She smiled in a singularly kind way because you did too, before closing the door behind you as you entered your newfound hostess's house together. As you passed close to her shoulder, there was the scent of strawberry shampoo and a cheap, lightly woody perfume like cinnamon that intoxicated your bloodstream as the scent wafted through your nostrils.

There was at you core the stimulating temptation of your perceptions to stick the tip of your nose through her long locks, only to further indulge your senses with her scent, but you held back your actions before skidding into a lapse of daring to definitely do it.

“You... You want something to eat?” Wanda spoke a little tenderly, half-cumbersomely even, not sneaking a glance at your face as you followed her into the walls of the small house, “I baked a cake.”

“Wait, wait, you cook?” you turned your gaze to the girl next to your left shoulder, who let a chaste smile crack between her lips.

“Well,” she muttered, “Sometimes, yeah. Not as often as I would like to, though. It's usually only when Lorna asks me to do it.”

“Cool,” you reciprocated her small grin, “I'd like a slice, if it's not too much trouble.”

When you went to sit on the springs of the dark sofa, out of the way of Wanda, who in turn headed for the nearby kitchen, your eyes proceeded to a small square television set in the corner of the room, above a somewhat rustic wooden furniture with silver handles, which on its monochromatic screen flashed a reprised episode of some old sitcom in shades of an artificially colored image like in one of those advertising flyers from sixty years ago.

Wanda came over to you a few minutes later all filled with a corny, fun-to-watch script between a blonde actress and a tall actor wearing a suit, in rather quick strides in her converse sneakers, carrying with her, in her right hand, a glass plate that contained a generous slice of white cake that looked like a feather-flavored pastry.

“Here,” she then handed you the utensil that was gladly accepted by your hands along with a grateful smile on your face, before sitting in the sofa to your right, with her bare knees joined together like a pair of magnets.

“Thanks, really. But hey, Bewitched, huh?” With a jerk of your chin, you pointed at the television in the corner of the room, under the open glass window that let aureate glimmers of a cozy sunlight take over the room.

Wanda acquiesced with a nod that shuddered her soft, dark locks, her lips twisted into a shy little smile. The rehearsed laughter of an unseen audience cluttered the four walls of the living room.

“Yeah, my mom always liked all that old American stuff when I was a kid, so I guess it got passed on to me somehow,” she finally looked at you, sounding even a little more undisturbed when engaged in narration about her most intimate tastes.

“I mean, Pietro doesn't like it very much… he says it's boring. And Lorna is just too small to pay attention to anything that lasts longer than five minutes, so… someone had to keep my mom company when she got home late from work. But it never bothered me, really. I... I like sitcoms.”

When a chuckle escaped between your parted lips at her own revelation, Wanda soon tried to justify herself in a quick, slurred speech, like a sinner validating her confessions in the eyes of the Lord.

“I–I mean, I, I know it's silly, but–”

“Hey, who said it's silly?” you offer her a succinct, complacent look that has her reaching for a sip of oxygen, “That's actually pretty sweet of you, Wanda.”

“You… You really think so…?” she looked at you, waiting for a hesitant answer.

“Well, yeah,” you shrugged, “My mom used to watch these old sitcoms all the time too when I was younger. So I think it's cool. It's really nice of you, Wanda.”

“Right,” there was a blistering twinge that brushed her pale cheeks, as her lips echoed a “Cool,” rather pleased with herself.

The tines of the tip of the aluminum fork in your possession, then pressed between the face of your right index finger and thumb, made to dip and break the loose dough of the plump cake placed right on top of the small plate that was supported by your left hand, before taking a significant amount of the sweet dessert so that it could be taken all the way up to your half-open mouth.

You hummed fortunately against the softly sweet taste on the face of your tongue. It was delicious on the palate, in fact, still warm as if fresh from the oven, with a comforting touch of nostalgia for something you had never experienced before – it was as if Wanda was sharing a tiny fraction of her Sokovian childhood with you. It tasted of sunny country afternoons and homemade desserts dotted with a coat of maternal affability. Tasted like pure, simple happiness of old infantile days to the sharpest feeling of the sentence.

Realizing that you were indeed eating something she had so selflessly prepared just a few minutes earlier, an emerald spotlight with an expectant green gaze engaged your facial expressions, as in an analysis project by Wanda, whose subject matter of study was none other than yourself.

“Man, this is really, really good!” it was a cry bordered by a half-child affinity, before you went back to reaching for more of the cake with the tines of your fork.

“You liked it?” Wanda's face glowed with exultant euphoria, shimmering a veil of pale green on her pretty irises, “It’s ptichye moloko, my mom used to bake it all the time when Pietro and I were kids back in Novi Grad.”

“Right, don't tell her I said that but I'm sure yours is better.”

“What?!” Wanda smiled a little dumbfounded, as her left shoulder bumped against your right bicep in a light-hearted way, witty in her comfortable good-humor that was slowly unfolding in front of you, “You haven't even tasted hers, Y/n!”

“Yeah, sorry, but as much as I’d be willing to literally die for your mom's cooking, you baked it, so I'm automatically sure yours is better.”

The high flesh of her cheeks burned in deep shades of rosy-crimson at your utterly sincere statement.

After a few episodes of the old television series (no less than five, but certainly more than two and a half), with the walls of your stomach already satisfied in your abdomen with that generous piece of cake made with a strictly followed recipe in the traditional Sokovian style, Wanda's gaze, who was then chuckling softly at some harmless silly joke made by the main character, dropped to your right profile, burning the bone in your jaw in scheming thoughts.

“When did you start smoking?”

Sweeping your eyes away from the colorful figures on the television, you glanced at the girl sitting next to you, finding a pretty face brightening before your gaze, “Sorry, what?”

“Your cigarette,” her index finger pointed at the small cylindrical object blistered behind your ear, skimming against your silver earrings, “When did you start smoking? If... if you don't mind talking about it, of course. Sorry if I'm being invasive."

“Oh, that,” you recalled suddenly from the presence of your addiction, bringing your right fingers to pick it up between your digits.

“It’s okay, I don't mind talking about it. But... I think it's been a while, actually. When my mom left my dad started smoking again and, well... I wanted to sneak some from him to see what it was like. About two years ago or so, I guess. Something like that."

You shrugged it off, because the matter had been over for longer than you cared to remember, and there wasn't much you could do if your mom just didn't want to stay anymore. But a warm grip slid across your skin as Wanda's right hand settled over the bare skin of your forearm, and there the tip of her thumb gave a cordial caress in affectionate circular motions, when her eyelids flicker so courteously into your face.

She was just a sweet girl after all, albeit under dark, torn clothes and dangling chains. Such a virtuous soul in the face of the oppressions of such an overwhelming world. When your eyes locked in midair, one trying to understand the glimmering behind the other, even the rehearsed lines coming from the television in the corner weren't enough to loosen the knot that was tied between you and Wanda.

“I… I get it, Y/n,” she mussed, leaning a little closer to your body, “I mean… it was hard when my dad left as soon as we arrived in the country. Quite hard, actually. My mom, she... she bought wine, for a while. Lots of wine bottles. I mean, she's better now, but I think that's when Pietro started doing... those things he does.”

The girl nibbled on her lower lip, and you, up close, just followed her with your eyes as she did.

“I didn't mean to bring you bad memories, it's just that...” her voice trailed off, getting smaller and smaller, as the tips of her ears reddened like two ripe peppers, “You... you look pretty when... when you smoke.”

Your heart missed a beat, and the oxygen just became unpalatable there inside that scrawny room filled with some disembodied laughter chuckled by the television set long forgotten in its sunny corner.

Setting the unsmoked cigarette aside, your right hand then dared to reach up on your forearm to search for what you've been searching for in the last few months, just snuggling your open palm against Wanda's soft cheek where, like the caresses bestowed by her finger, your own thumb tried to stroke a tiny freckle high up on her sharp cheekbone.

“Hey, look at me,” you asked in a tone bathed in tenderness, which she matched in a trace of pale green in her flickering irises, “It's okay Wanda, you didn't do anything wrong, don't worry about it. And on top of that," you half-giggled, “I think you're pretty too, you know.”

The thick dark lashes flickered out of her eyes, a half-formed mantilla of limping anguish, setting the stage for a color imbued with traces of what would be dizzying hope, flushing bright red on the pale alabaster skin of her accentuated face.

“You think I'm pretty...?”

“Of course I think so,” you nodded, your pupils dilated in close juncture with hers.

“You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, Wanda. I wish I could make you laugh every day of my life just to see you smiling. Your... your smile is beautiful. And the way you sit and fiddle with your hair, or the way you care so much about everyone… everything about you is beautiful. Not a single day goes by that I don't notice how beautiful you are.”

She swallowed when you did too; an abyssal gaze that slanted magnetically down your face, to the outline of your lips as close to hers as they were.

“Can I…” she breathed beneath her ruffled voice, “Can I kiss you, Y/n? I really want to kiss you...”

What happened next, on the initiative of a Wanda who didn't even wait for half a second when you nodded in restraint, was a needy kiss that tasted like cake, cinnamon, cigarettes and, at the end, a hint of crystalline need not contained. Your upper teeth kind of clashed with each other at first, though that didn't stop you or Wanda, who just hooked her gentle fingers into the outline of the skin on your neck. Your brain needed oxygen, but your chest just needed her; her touch, her tongue, her red.

“Please,” Wanda mussed with her swollen lip against your, her eyes heavy, warm air caressing the pulp of the commission in your mouth, “Please tell me this is as important to you as it is to me.”

“It is,” you muttered, going back to more of the taste of her tongue, “God, Wanda, you don't know how long I've been wanting to do this…”

The girl kissed you again with excruciating need, as if she really wanted to keep your soul tied to hers between the flicks of your tongues, as you felt the commission of her lips against yours twitch in a goofy smile, both hands roaming in search of the strands of your hair to hold them between her fingers, as if she wanted to breathe in from them the scent of cigarettes that so soothed her heart.

Wanda ran her hands down the length of your back, the roll of frigid rings feeling icy against your warm, bristly skin, hugging you around the waist as you wrapped your arms around her waist, your noses touching, mirrored smiles on your lips broken by kisses that were increasingly equipped with a mutual meaning that pointed to a need pulsing in your veins.

“Can I...?” she understood the meaning behind your little question when your left palm brushed lightly against her enclosed breast, covered by the thin material of her dark blouse.

“Yes...” was a breathy sigh, “P–please, yes...”

There was consent in a tiny nod of the head, and a tiny groan breathed out from the back of her throat that reverberated through your bones as you pressed your palm lightly against her mound, one erect nipple protruding behind the fabric for, there, you've found her lacking the material of a bra to slip between your skin and hers, massaging the warm, soft flesh between the lengths of your cunning fingers.

“Fuck Wanda,” you groaned because she did too, “You're so beautiful…”

You just can't help but do it when your teeth came into contact with the pale sensitive skin of Wanda's throat, where you captured between your lips a pinkish lump of flesh glistening with a thin layer of sweat and buffed it with the tip of your tongue as if it were just a sweet dessert, feeling the burning saccharinity of the girl's naked skin as the caresses aimed at her breast became somewhat more continuous and erratic in the movements of your left forearm.

But you caught yourself surprised, when you felt a gentle grip on both your shoulders and saw that Wanda, with care as if handling the most fragile of flowers, was pulling you to fit over her, guiding you to the top.

She laid the length of her spine against the inconvenient length of the sofa, causing your wandering eyes to land on the piece of alabaster skin that had become exposed as the hem of her blouse rose, revealing, there, a band of abs marked by tiny dots sprinkled here and there, like a particular galaxy.

“You're so fucking beautiful, Wanda” was said between kisses and strokes of tongue over Wanda's abdomen, when you writhed inside the clothes that seemed too stuffy for her there, laying under your body.

“Y/n...” she moaned, but there was no word that could complement your own name whispered through her peachy lips.

Blood burned hot on the sharp red cheeks of Wanda's ivory face, her lids closed as if to hold back the tears of arousal that threatened to slip down her doll face. The rosebud mouth with the brief traces of your lustrous saliva was, every now and then, moaning in the form of a shy, smothered request.

Her lips were apparently forming delusional words, but your conscience no longer registered them, because you were too busy just watching her. Wanda was rosy, dusted with droplets of sweat, covered by the veil of ardor without realizing she was surrounded by a red haze of lust. Perfect, really. Your fingers hooked on the hem of her dark blouse, and in a slow flick of your wrist you pulled it over as you tucked the garment under Wanda's bared collarbones, revealing a pair of bare breasts there.

Watching with delight the flushed girl's unrestricted enjoyment of her satisfying freedom from the pieces of cloth that covered her silhouette, you propped yourself up on your elbows for a voluptuous view of full breasts partially covered by cascades of dark hair, blushing breasts in its perfect contours, of clear and erect nipples which you found yourself seized by a desire to squeeze between your lips and encircle it between your tongue.

However, as you threatened to resume the posture so that he could have those desirable breasts between your teeth, Wanda put a hand on your collarbone, preventing you before you even completed the act. You blinked at her face, lifting your head.

“Are you okay…?" you whispered, to which Wanda only looked away with her dark green gaze to the side, “Wanda, what is it…?”

“It's just that I've never,” she stifled, but at your encouraging gaze, something in her compelled to continue her speech, “I've never done… you know, that… with anyone… before.”

You bit your bottom lip. Well, fuck.

“It… It's all right. I've only done it once or twice, too, and I don't think one of them even counted properly,” and then, a hesitant half second passed, as you looked at her again, “You… do you want me to stop here? I don't mind stopping if you want me to. I want this to be pleasurable for you, not that you feel pressured to do it.”

“No, it's just that,” Wanda looked at you with two dark pools outlined in earnest green, pink eyelids and puffy lips, “Could this… not be a one time thing? I… I don't want to do it if it's just a one time thing.”

Your heart rose high in your chest as the idea dawned on you that Wanda wanted more than you did because you were willing to do what she wanted.

You just smiled small as you brought your face close to hers; you studied her carefully in a brief sunny moment (your crush, half-naked and fragile, had a lock of dark hair falling over her forehead and her brows furrowed, but her eyes were simple and sincere), drinking in her radiant red beauty like a drug addict – the feminine silhouette splashed with sun and, in a way, even with a synoptic veil of purity that accompanied your muse in the utopian world of dreams, like a poor helpless girl.

Gently, you kissed the corner of her rosy mouth.

“It was never intended for this to be a one time thing, Wanda,” you kissed her again, and then again and again, “I… I really like you, you know? I... I care about you. Much more than you can imagine, I promise.”

“I like you too, Y/n,” she mussed in a low voice, her forehead pressed against yours, “Really like you.”

But then, your touch approached the hollow of her groin.

“Y/n...” Wanda's tone softened, as if she was slightly embarrassed, “Y/n, please...”

“You touched yourself before, Wanda?”

The middle of her legs fluttered as it was that, even if in a partially measured way, Wanda just nodded shyly, her warm forehead still touching yours.

“Damn, you're so hot… so hot, pretty girl…”

Mouth wide and swollen, you let out a knowing smile, and gently lowered your head in a languid, lingering action, a withdrawn ecstasy making you feel compelled to bring your full lips to Wanda's soft mouth, who returned you in a wavering and sloppy kiss.

Making yourself helpful, you dipped your fingers towards the legs not completely closed under the hem of the other girl's skirt, locating between them, shrouded by the thin silk of an underwear, the fragile and swollen aroused clit, inciting a delicious moan that popped out of the girl's mouth to crash into your parted lips.

Your mouth throbbed at the sight of her like this, the gloomy, empty pupils doubling in size at the work of art that was born out of Wanda's orgasmic experience – her dark hair swept back in a purely sensual gesture, the tight mouth swallowing desperately sucking in a hiss of air, the length of her pale neck completely exposed. Her round, perfect breasts with erect nipples of a strong rosy hue, her eyelids closed and her dark brows furrowed. So desirable. So intoxicating.

You wanted to have her right there, on that little couch that would be the witness of your willingness to give her everything you had in you. You increased the pressure on Wanda's little bundle of nerves through the rising damp garment, almost even torturing her at your whim, only to see her writhe beneath your own body and groan indecently and disconnected.

A yelp was raised as your mouth closed around her right nipple, which you pampered for a while, still lingering in your low caresses, until you migrated to the other to lick and suck it into the hollow of flesh inside your cheeks. But something in you wanted more; you wanted to taste her, feel her run down your throat. And she shivered in anticipation as your mouth sailed south of her body, fitting your nose beneath her dark skirt.

“Red, huh,” you thought aloud, at the tiny wet wedge of clothing that was the only barrier erected between you and Wanda's source of pleasure; a thin lacy panty of crimson fabric, whose middle gained wet tones that made it darker at that specific point, “It suits you.”

Fingers tightened in a firm grip on the ridge of your scalp as you placed a chaste kiss on Wanda's clit, albeit over the fabric of her panties, who choked on a sudden loud yelp.

“Y/n, fuck–!”

“I don't think I've ever heard you curse like this before,” you mussed, licking the skin of your own lips, “This is new. I'll take them off, okay? Wanna taste you.”

You threaded your fingers around the inside of Wanda's black skirt, and bringing the straps of the red underwear to you, you had the girl completely naked, exposed, desirable, as soon as you moved your elbows and made your way towards what you were looking for.

From that intimate region flowed a honey of pleasure, exhaling a bittersweet odor, pink as the inside of a strawberry, bringing water to your predatory mouth. Wanda's fidgety pale legs were spread apart, and her partially shaved pussy was on display. You took your index and middle fingers to the sensitive area, and dragging the tip against the entire pink and wet extension of the inside of Wanda's labias, you collected the viscous liquid with strong flavor, drawing a strangled moan from the other girl.

You brought your smeared middle finger to your lips, fervently sucking Wanda's nectar, tasting just as you supposed it would be on the tip of your tongue; as addictive as the nicotine in your cigarette. You took them out of your mouth with a violent pop, only to then unroll your tongue to slide it into the other girl's untouched hole, which pulsed and throbbed, rubbing against the purest nothingness.

Wanda moaned, dripping against your chin. Your pace was slow at first, but you searched for more of her, and Wanda gave you what you wanted. She squirmed and grunted and squeezed your hair between her fisted hands, tangling them in the circulation of her silver rings. And your tongue wasn't very experienced indeed, but you knew what to do. The tip of your right index finger pressed against the rosy entrance as your head came out from under her skirt.

“Can I put in…?”

You felt her cunt pulse against your digit.

“Y-yes,” she yelped, “Please–!”

You kissed the inside of her thigh before carefully dipping your finger into that warm grip. And there was some resistance at first, her furrowed brow glistening in a layer of sweat, and you kept your wrist steady when it was when you again got on top of Wanda, who buried her head in your chest as you did.

“It hurts?” you asked against her ear, and she just shook her head in a hesitant move.

“N–no, but it's... it's weird,” she sighed, “I never... when–when I did, I never...”

“It's okay, pretty girl” you kissed her hair, “Gonna move now, okay? Let me know if it hurts or if you want me to stop.”

A cunning finger reached across Wanda's intimate region, reaching for what you begged to be reached, making its way towards what it sought, and, as an inevitable consequence, penetrated her through her point of entry.

In the face of the action, Wanda arched her entire spine, splitting a visceral groan from her vocal cords – for she had barely become familiar with the finger when the movement began, giving her something new to feel.

You skimmed her, filled her and understood her as nothing more than a girl with needs (needs that only yours could supply). Then Wanda squeaked; the hungry hands for something to keep within themselves searched for your shoulder blades tucked inside your crop top, and there, over your back muscles, the nails dyed in black dug breaking into the skin. Your foreheads supported each other, because during the carnal act, each other was just what you both had and what you both were.

Your forearm pumped down Wanda's skirt towards a hot, dripping grip, and as you hooked your single finger inside her tight walls, there was a moan from the other girl as you kissed it back down the inside of her throat. You kissed her sweaty forehead, then the prominent cheekbone of her flushed cheek, and a sliver of skin down the tip of her jawbone.

“Here?” touching her on a specific spot that caused a dizzying reaction, that's what you asked.

“Y–yes, please don't stop Y/n, please don't stop, please... I–I, I'll–”

“Fuck, come for me, pretty girl.”

“Y/n!”

Her velvety walls squeezed your finger before Wanda came in a loud weeping moan against your ear, pressing you against her body as if this were the last day on Earth, and she would never see you again. Silently, you just held her back, inhaling her scent from the shirt balled up over her exposed chest. You just stayed there, drinking from the moment, because you belonged to her.

The serenity that came from the unspoken heartbeats coming from Wanda's breastplate was enough to establish, at your core, the most complete and genuine feeling of latent rest that you could bear.

With your eyes closed, the room immersed in a pool of accentuated silence, you were able to hear her breathing for much longer than you could count, as she brought you unparalleled peace and immeasurable calm as nothing else had done before. She was there, and she was yours.

With your head resting on the girl's chest, lying on top of Wanda was like basking in a ray of sunlight – tender and cordial like coming home after a long journey.

The unclothed skin superimposed over the open palms of both your hands was warm and sunny, as smooth as the finest silk, and your hips were hitched in a precise, if not perfect fit—the remnants of the apex ascended in a moment of pleasure smeared the inner sides of her thighs, like a ghost of what had once been the height of the carnal act in which you were so vividly engaged minutes before.

The austere digits of your fingers amused themselves with ruffling the ends of her dark hair, cradling them around your index and middle fingers, until finally Wanda descended from her apex, her chest heavy beneath your face.

“Y/n,” she called out to you, as the seconds ticked by and the minutes settled in, “I think I wanna date you.”

Because you couldn't help but smile at such a modest return, bordering the ethereal innocence of a legitimate child, you brought your mouths together so that you could press, to the pearly lips of Wanda, a long, tongueless kiss. You ended it only to laugh, the tip of your own nose brushing the other girl's.

“You think?”

“I-I’m sure of it,” she blushed.

“I wanna date you too, Wanda,” you confessed, even though it wasn't a secret, “Is that okay with you?”

“Yeah...” she smiled – weakly and languorously when in a wave of post-orgasm fatigue, but still a genuine and sincere smile, “Yeah, it is. You’re cute.”

“Nah, pretty girl,” you shrugged, “You’re cute. I’m… something else. I’m a freak.”

“No, no, don’t say that. You’re the most beautiful girl that I’ve ever seen, Y/n,” she whispered, “And I wanna kiss you again.”

“Well, then,” you smiled towards her jadish irises, “Let me do the honors, pretty girl.”

In such a way, you approached Wanda so that you could kiss her jaw, while your hands, clasped between the sofa and the shoulder blades of your beloved, held her in a soft and pleasant embrace. Then you kissed Wanda on the patch of skin that joined her neck to her shoulder, her collarbone and her throat. And on her lips, over and over again.

And neither of you, in that newly found little bubble of love in each other's arms, even heard the front door open.

1K notes · View notes

hwanchaesong · 2 years

Text

"Cliché? Cut!"

Badboy!Seonghwa X RichKid,Nerd!Reader

Synopsis: A promise of not ending up like those couples in sappy dramas in a fake relationship is the best idea for facing reality.

genre & warnings: fluff, smut, angst, cursing, university au, mentions of weddings and cheating, appearances of other idols, alcohol, break ups

word count: 7.3k

requested by: my lovely friend @hwadump (ps i am so sorry for this late af request 😭)

Park Seonghwa believes that he is the king of ATEEZ University.

All boys want to be him and all girls want to be with him.

People respect him, worship the floor he walks on, look up at him like he just walked on top of the sea.

Those came crashing down right at this moment, in front of you, L/N Y/N.

Truth to be told, all of these are for the sake of winning a bet.

Okay, let's get this straightened up.

A popular guy like him means that he is also in a prominent group, a circle that contains the other known men in their school.

It's only natural for them to get on their high horses and play with other people's feelings for fun, and that includes banging innocent girls just to break their heart afterwards.

And it happens that you, the school's infamous nerd and teacher's pet, was his group's next target.

"It couldn't be that hard." Hongjoong mused, showing Seonghwa a photo of you in his phone. (something that he got from your social media of course)

Wooyoung nodded his head in agreement before adding, "True. Besides, girls like that are easy to read and manipulate."

Yeah right, easy to read and manipulate. He will never, ever believe his friends again, especially Wooyoung, after this because what the fuck.

Who would even believe it when he says that the school's geek is currently trapping him in his seat, trying to seal a deal with him in the middle of an isolated library.

"So, whaddya say?" you smiled at the gaping man, your voice effectively snapping him out of his minute daydream.

"Uh? Pardon?"

'Damn it, Seonghwa. You could've done better than that!'

Seonghwa cursed himself internally for his stupid reply.

"I said," you leaned closer to him, close enough for him to smell your strawberry perfume, "I heard your little bet with your friends a while ago."

He gulped, at loss for words because even if he's handsome as hell and is good in bed, covering up a discovered dirty secret is not his forte.

"So, like I was saying before.." you continued, taking a long pause before spilling out the beans in one go.

"I'd participate in your bet willingly, but do me a favor and pretend to be my boyfriend as well so my family will stop pairing me with random guys."

Seonghwa blinked, once... twice.. his eyes widened when your words sank in his brain.

How will he handle this uncanny situation?

"Why? I- Can you. No, b-but are you-"

"C'mon, it couldn't be that hard." you parroted his friend's statement from before, bringing him back to reality as he straightened his self up.

"Okay, let's talk about this one by one." Seonghwa replied, able to form coherent sentences this time.

You shifted in your position, creating some space between you two, "Sure thing."

You sat down on the table, crossing your legs and casually raising an eyebrow, signalling for Seonghwa to continue.

He cleared his throat, adjusting his position as well as he tried to keep his cool, "First, you'll go along with the bet and let me win all those money."

You nodded your head. Upon your confirmation, Seonghwa carried on.

"Second, in return, you want me to act as your boyfriend."

"Exactly!" you happily exclaimed, standing from your seat with a cheery bounce, elated that he finally got the idea.

Seonghwa opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

"Here's the catch though." you removed your glasses, perching it atop of your head. Your eyes glinted as the corner of your lips curled, "let's make this a bet ourselves."

This is a new look that no one had ever witnessed before, an appearance that only Seonghwa had been able to see.

It's astonishing to say the least, you keep on surprising him and he couldn't help but be interested in your offering.

"I'm listening, Ms. L/N."

You scoffed, "Don't go and be formal like you didn't try and flirt with me a few minutes ago." you stood up from your seat and walked towards the window, gazing outside for a bit before facing an amused Seonghwa.

"I don't want this to end up like those sappy romantic movies." you looked down at your shoes for a bit, pondering your next words.

"That is why let's make some rules." you voiced out, approaching him and raising your hand for a handshake, "The one who falls in love first will have to pay the consequences."

Seonghwa smiled, standing at his full height and accepting your handshake, "That's a deal, my girlfriend."

It's safe to say that you guys laid down all the rules for the both of you to follow during the 'dating era.'

Which consists of:

1. No one is allowed to speak of the details of the agreement, family and friends are not exempted.

2. Act like a real couple in public so everyone will believe the lie.

3. Falling in love is strictly prohibited.

4. The first one to fall in love will be considered the loser and shall be punished by paying a fee of $10,000.

5. This 'relationship' shall go on within the duration of 3 months.

"Oh my fucking god, I said fuck her but really? You're dating her?!" Wooyoung shrieked when he saw his hyung's wallpaper which consists of a photo of you and him in a photo booth.

It has been a full two months since the pact and everything is going smoothly.

Seonghwa made up a story of how you hooked up with him in his car and voila! He won the bet and got the money without any problems.

On the other hand, you have already introduced him to your family. No more blind dates on your side and bonus points - your parents highly approved of him.

Seonghwa looked at his phone, staring at the sweet picture where he has his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder while you have this surprised pikachu face going on.

"Well duh," his eyes moved up to the younger boy, "is it really that surprising?"

"Surprising?" his other friend, Yunho, piped up from behind him, "It's ground breaking!"

"True that. It's not like you to settle down with someone. Especially if they are just supposed to be a one night stand." San concurred, making Seonghwa sigh.

"Is that really how you see me?" he tried to make them sympathize with him to no avail. Everyone in the room collectively agreeing that yes, they all thought that he'd die alone because of his playboy behavior.

"You motherf-" before he could curse at his friends, his phone rang, your name flashing on the screen.

A series of 'oohs' and 'aahs' resonated in the entirety of the living room.

"Shut up." he glared at them, "I'm leaving now, and I swear to God, if y'all make a mess out of our dorm, you'll regret it."

His eyes landed on Jongho and pointed at him, "You're in-charge since Hongjoong isn't here." he declared before walking out the door, not minding the fuss that followed.

"What? But I'm the third oldest! Why is our youngest in-charge?!"

"Suck it loser, now obey me."

1:24 PM

You stood there at the entrance of the mall, waiting for Seonghwa to arrive patiently.

"Good grief, I told you to wait inside because it's too hot in here." a voice from beside you startled you, turning around and meeting face to face with yours truly.

"And I did say I'll pass on that. I want to walk together with you." you insisted, entering the mall with him trailing behind you.

Seonghwa smiled a bit, endeared at this attitude of yours.

Truth to be told, everything about you is unexpected. Your whole demeanor is not what he thought really is.

You may be the school's nerd, but you are so much more than that.

Within the span of 30 days, he had already learned a lot about you.

You came from a rich family but still remain humble, your dreams and aspirations in life, your favorites, likes and dislikes. It is kind of alarming with how much he pays attention to you, or the fact that he's enjoying his time with you.

It's a red flag, he knows it, but paid no attention to it because c'mon. He is THE Park Seonghwa. This feelings of his? Pft, it's nothing but a simple admiration of how free and bubbly you are outside of school.

"Are you listening? What looks better on me? Blue or red?"

Seonghwa blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, "Pardon?"

You rolled your eyes, "It has been two damn months and you still say that word to me." you feigned an offended look, "When will you even listen to me properly for once?"

His eyes widened, thinking of the possibility that he might have done something wrong, "I am listening, I'm sorry. Okay, sorry. Please tell me what you just said again, I swear m-"

Your laugh interrupted his rambling.

What a dork, really.

Until now, you still can't believe that this man is treated like a deity in your university.

Seriously?

His image is far too different from who and what he really is. You have learned that much, of course you would, you spent almost every day hanging out with him since your bet begun.

"Oh goodness gracious, Seonghwa." you tried catching your breath, stopping yourself from laughing out again when you saw his confused face.

"It was a joke, you dummy." You lightly tapped his shoulder before showing him the dresses again.

"Blue." he immediately answered, getting the context of what you're asking him a while ago.

You raised an eyebrow, "That's fast." you placed the red dress back on the rack, turning on your heels to face the mirror with the blue dress on your arms. "You really think that this looks good on me?"

"It's my favorite color, so yeah." he mumbled, to which you almost didn't hear it... almost.

You giggled, finding his shy nature adorable, "Alright, I guess I'll buy this one then."

4:36 PM

Seonghwa offered to drive you home, saying that he won't let you commute because that is his purpose as a 'boyfriend.'

"So when's the wedding again?" he asked, staring straight ahead on the road but still paying attention to what you'll say.

"Next week, on Thursday. And that reminds me, we have to go to their place a day before the event." you shifted from the passenger seat, unlocking your phone and scrolling through the messages.

"Because Uncle Eden said, and I quote, 'Let's have a family reunion first before I finally tie the knot with the love of my life.' end quote." you read the message that your uncle sent you, perfectly mimicking his voice that made Seonghwa snicker.

"I'll get ready for that."

After his sentence, you realized that you're finally home as he parked his car and... what the fuck? Why is your mother waiting at the gate like she's expecting you any minute?

"Don't tell me.." you whispered, terror coating your features.

"I'll tell you." Seonghwa smirked, getting out of the car and going over to your side, acting like a real gentleman for opening the car door for you. "I did tell your mom that I'm coming over, and guess what, I'll even stay for dinner."

You groaned, not happy at this at all. As much as you love having his presence around, you hate it when he's visiting at your home.

Your mother gushes about him all the time. With how handsome, respectful, charming, intelligent and the fucking list goes on. You're getting tired of it, especially when she lets the "Have you ever thought of the aspect of building a family?" question.

You don't like it, but now you're beginning to think that Seonghwa finds enjoyment in this horrible, terrible scene.

"Welcome home!" your mother greeted you with a hug, doing the same with Seonghwa. "I am so glad to see you again, son! Come in, I have something to tell both of you."

You made eye contact with Seonghwa, shrugging it off and thinking nothing of it. Upon arriving at the living room, your mom dropped the bomb.

"What?" you screeched, was that right?

"It's not a big deal. It's fine." Seonghwa interjected, holding your hand as an attempt to calm you down.

Your heart is beating wildly at the idea of sharing one room with him.

"What are you overreacting for?" your mom crossed her arms, "You're dating, it's not a crime for you to share a bed."

Yeah, fuck she's right. You still have to carry this damned act on even if it kills you. One more month, and everything will end soon.

"Yes." you took a deep breath, "You're absolutely correct."

Everything will be fine. It's not like difficult things will come your way when you spent a few nights with him in a single room.

Right?

"Boo." a sultry voice startled you from behind, making you almost yell and curse at the perpetrator.

You closed your eyes and held a deep breath, calming your annoyance down. You are so not gonna embarrass yourself.

You had arrived at the site of the wedding, a resort, today and you were given a luxurious, spacious room to hibernate in while waiting for the d-day.

It could have been treated like a vacation if it wasn't for this dumbo with you. No choice though, he is still technically your 'boyfriend' so it is mandatory for him to be with you on occasions like this.

Currently, you two are getting ready for the reunion party tonight. And frankly, you want to look like a total princess, partly because you don't want to be criticized by your relatives and mainly... you want to look pretty for Seonghwa.

Okay, in your defense, he looks like a charming prince with his white suit and neatly arranged hair. You certainly don't want to look like a pauper beside him.

"Seonghwa." you called his name out menacingly, "I swear to heaven and hell if you did that again I w-"

You were cut off when he yawned and plopped down on the bed, "You what?" he challenged, unfazed and he's sporting this snarky smile that irritated you further.

You went closer to him and sat down on the edge of the bed, "Shut up and braid my hair."

He gasped, complaining that you had degraded his status as a boyfriend into a hairstylist. You then felt him stand up, his fingers threading through your looks gently. Despite the complaint, he still complied with your request.

It was silent for a few minutes until he decided to break it, "Do you still remember when I first braided your hair?"

You giggled a bit, recalling that hideous incident. How could you forget that when it was so memorable that you think that was the turning point of your fake relationship.

It was a big mistake for you to go and fetch Seonghwa from his last class, I mean, it really is especially when you see him kissing this snotty girl.

"Park Seonghwa." you mumbled his name lowly, and your voice seemed to wake him up and he immediately pushed the girl away.

"Y/N, this isn't what it looks like. I'll explain."

You just stood there, contemplating whether to hear him out or leave. You did neither when the bitch decided to clung unto Seonghwa and commented some rude remarks about you.

"Oppa, who is this? Why is this ugly nerd here? Will you go away? I am having some alone time with my oppa here."

Oh it's on.

Fire burning in your eyes, you stomped towards her and forcefully pulled her away from Seonghwa. A loud thud followed when she fell right on her butt, to which you didn't give a shit because she deserves it.

"Let's go, Seonghwa." you ordered, but one step and someone has their hands on your hair.

The pain was unbearable and everything was a blur, you couldn't discern what was happening. Not until a teacher broke the fight and hearing the faint voice of Seonghwa stating that the other girl was at fault.

You just got your hair pulled like a k-drama scene, huh.

Fortunately, the teachers believed that a good student like you wouldn't even harm a fly, thus, you were out of the principal's office without any problem.

You speed walked outside the school, keen on getting away as soon as possible. After a few minutes, you sat down on a bench in a nearby park. Only then did you realized that Seonghwa didn't follow nor check up on you.

You looked down at your trembling hands, no no no. You ain't gonna cry because of a pathetic excuse of a man like him.

Suddenly, tender hands are massaging your scalp and his familiar soothing voice began talking about how he didn't mean for that to happen.

"Y/N, please believe me that I am not cheating on you. That piece of shit suddenly lurched at me and I didn't have the time to react."

You continued looking ahead of you, focusing on the scenery of bright orange skies caused by the sun setting. You won't look at him now, because if you did, then you'll cry.

"I really am sorry, Y/N. Please."

You stood up, walking back home and you know that he's following you all the way, making sure that you're all right.

It somehow made your heart all mushy, knowing that he cares, but that is still not enough for you to accept his apology.

You made a bee line towards the bathroom when you arrived at home, wanting to take a warm bath and sleep the bad day away.

You halted in front of the mirror when you saw your reflection, it was your hair... beautifully braided.

The next day, the whole university was shocked when Seonghwa announced that the two of you are dating.

He is officially yours and you are officially his.

That was the day when you two got the title of "The Nerd and The Bad Boy Couple."

That was also the day when you learned that Seonghwa carries some girl stuff in his bag for you to use whenever you need it.

The gesture is sweet and wholesome, it made you forgive him in no time. Surely, that was a weakness of yours.

Back in present time~

"Yeah, I do remember that you were an asshole back then." you cheekily replied, an affronted expression crossing Seonghwa's face in return.

"You have the guts to tell me that when here I am, braiding your hair almost everyday." he sassed back.

"Well, I love the way you braid my hair." you admitted openly, inflating Seonghwa's pride knowing that you found something to love about him.

His hands cupped your cheeks, mushing it together and craning your head backwards so you'll be able to make direct eye contact with him, "You mean you love me?"

You scoffed and lightly pushed him away, "You wish. Now let's go and make a grand entrance there."

Grand entrance means you, linking arms with Seonghwa as you greeted every relative that you encounter.

"This is tiring." you groaned, slumping in your seat and your mood further slacked when you heard your female cousin's voices.

"Ooh, Y/N, is this your boyfriend right here?" one of them asked, to which Seonghwa answered for himself.

"Yes, pleased to meet you. The name's Park Seonghwa." he bowed exactly 90 degrees, impressing the older women.

"What a handsome young man!" a man's voice interjected this time, another uncle of yours that seemed to take interest in Seonghwa.

He's like a star tonight, everyone has taken a liking to him and truth to be told, you can't blame them. You understand why they naturally gravitate towards him.

"Is it okay if I borrow him for a bit? Ya know, man chitchat." your uncle asked, to which you agreed in a flash.

You watched as Seonghwa got dragged around, and before he could leave your sight, you saw him mouth an 'I'll be back.'

"Man, your boyfriend is like an actor. People are all around him."

You looked at your side to see who talked and see Jungwoo, a close friend slash cousin of yours.

"Yeah he does. I mean, I can see why." you smiled and picked up a glass of water, chugging it down.

"And I can see how much he loves you."

You choked.

"Easy there!" Jungwoo tapped your back, "What the hell Y/N, what was that for?"

You tried to calm your coughing fit down, "I'm sorry I was surprised. But, what was that about how he loves me?"

Jungwoo grimaced, kind of like he was so ready to beat you up for not noticing.

He held his fingers up, counting the things that he observed, "The way he looked at you. The way he talks about you. His actions towards you. H-"

"Okay enough." you interrupted him before the list could go on, you couldn't believe what you are hearing.

You stood up from your seat, getting all panicky about the recent discovery.

"Where are you going?" Jungwoo asked, puzzled that you're suddenly acting weird.

"I am gonna serve us some drinks."

And maybe you had too much wine because you now find yourself in Seonghwa's arms as he carried you back in your shared bedroom.

"Damn girl, did something happened while I was gone?" he asked, softly laying you in bed and was about to go and get you some water but his footsteps halted.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" you queried out of nowhere.

The ambience of the room turned into something indiscernible. It was suffocating.

How could a one question do this?

Seonghwa slowly faced you, and fuck, the view is enough to make him crazy.

There you are, vulnerable and your hazy, innocent eyes are begging him to do something that he might regret in the future.

He closed his eyes and willed himself to look away, "No, I think of the opposite." he answered truthfully.

He had always thought of that, from the bottom of his heart, he genuinely viewed you as someone who has a gorgeous face and personality.

It was unreal at first, that is why he did say that his feelings are nothing but a jolt of admiration for you.

And now that he's in this position, his mind begs to differ.

Is the attraction an actual one and not imaginary?

He doesn't know, but he does know that his friends had pointed out multiple times with how he turns into a completely different person when you're around.

"So you think I'm pretty?" you asked again, and this time you groggily sat up, holding onto Seonghwa's hand.

The man before you hasn't moved an inch, and you took that as a cue to continue.

"Seonghwa, I-I... My cousin told me that you love me and I don't know what to do with that information."

His eyes widened, was he really that transparent?

"But what made me more anxious is that, I didn't hate the idea of you loving me." you stared at him, silently imploring him for any refutal.

This is a dangerous territory that you both are trespassing, and when the bullet have been fired, there is no going back.

"What about you? If I told you that I love you, what will you do?"

And he snapped.

Without any hesitance, Seonghwa bent down, kissing you fully on the lips. You reciprocated it within a second, no more pretending and rationality out of the window.

The lip lock was full of vigor, an overflow of hidden emotions had begun to spill out, and nobody could stop whatever would transpire for the night.

Seonghwa bit your lower lip as he guided you down back to the mattress, lightly nipping on it before slipping his wet appendage inside your mouth.

You didn't have the energy to fight back, allowing him to completely dominate you.

A whimper escaped from you when his mouth snaked down just below your ears, "If you told me that you love me, then I'll probably do the same." he whispered, causing goosebumps to raise over your skin.

You gasped when he bit a sensitive part of your neck, and you did it again when he sucked on your skin.

He is leaving his marks all over you, it would be a herculean task to hide all of those but you couldn't care less, basking in the feeling of his hot mouth in your blazing skin.

"S-Seonghwa." you moaned his name out, a small hum coming from him as a reply, "I have never done this before."

He pulled away for a bit, examining your features and caressing your flushed cheeks, "Don't worry baby, I'll take care of you."

And he meant that, he will make you enjoy this night to the point that you'll never be able to feel anything like this if it didn't come from him.

He started removing your articles of clothing one by one, and the more skin you showed, the more excited he becomes.

You look like an angel, so pure and sinless and he couldn't wait to wreak havoc in you.

"Nu uh, baby, don't cover that up." he stopped you from hiding your breasts when he got rid of your bra, pinning your arms on your side.

You are beginning to feel shy, feeling his gaze on your body, "You look so perfect and..." Seonghwa licked his lips, "delicious."

He released your arms, his hands going around and in between your chest. He proceeded with a small massage, his palms squeezing your busts, lightly tickling your areola until your nipples are hardened enough to his liking.

All Seonghwa could feel is the cloud-like softness of your boobs and he just wants to bury himself in it.

His eyes peered over yours, looking for any hints of resistance, and when he saw none of it, he dived right into you. Putting a nub in his mouth and experimentally doing all tricks for you to feel good.

You squirmed in his hold, the growing pleasure is now running in your veins.

He started with small flicks, then he had gotten more bold and circled around it. A buzzing sensation came through when he sucked on it.

The anticipation was worth the wait, considering how skilled he is.

He suckles hard, then slows down into kitten licks. Your other boob never forgotten, his fingers tweaking and playing with your nipple.

When he's certain that he has gotten his saliva all over your breast, he had gotten another mission in mind.

His hand slides down to your belly, prying your legs open in a gentle manner.

"You good?"

You nodded your head, not able to form a word as you tried to comprehend all the things that are currently happening in your body.

Your confirmation was enough for Seonghwa to continue devouring you.

And oh boy, did he went wild on you.

No mercy as his middle finger began to rub on your clit. You had never felt like this before and it's too much.

"If you want to cum, then let it all out."

You were about to ask what does he mean by that, but there is no need to when he demonstrated it to you.

He plunged two fingers into your sopping core, easily taking him without any problem.

"Ah! S-Seonghwa!" you cried out when he positioned himself in between your legs to prevent you from closing them.

"If you can't take this now," he came face to face with your heat, "then how will you handle me later, hm?"

Another loud moan was elicited out from you, his tongue prodding and teasing your bundle of nerves.

You knew he was good with his tongue, you had observed it a lot of times, especially when he darts it out like a chameleon.

You knew that, yet this is a domain that you never knew will feel so heavenly unless you tried it for yourself.

The loud noise of you moaning, him slurping all of your juices, and the lewd wet sounds coming from below you every time he curls his fingers inside are insane.

Seonghwa felt your muscles tensing, a sign that you are close to release. Thus, he switched his style into something more of a challenge for you.

His digits went to your clit, rubbing it in a circular manner and his tongue slid inside your pussy.

The electrifying feeling of having your sensitive nub get played with, along with the constant darting of his tongue inside you were enough to send you over the edge.

Seonghwa continued his actions for you to ride your high, only stopping when you tried to move away from him.

You were breathing heavily, eyes closed and ready to go into dreamland. Until something hard poked in your entrance, "You think this is over?"

His voice snapped you awake and you were crying out in both pleasure and pain after he entered you in one go.

You are still vulnerable from the previous orgasm, but that also allowed you to feel how big and thick he is.

He momentarily ceased his movements for you to adjust to his size. On your side, he was stretching you out so good and fuck, you want him to move.

See, you are not the type to do shit when you get desperate, but you are already out of your mind and your hips begin to move on their own in search of friction.

"I can't Seonghwa, please move." you pleaded, which sounded so sexy for him.

He bit his lower lip, bending downward and putting a chaste kiss on your nose before whispering, "Your wish is my command, princess."

Yes, you did say for him to move, turns out that he really planned to go all out on you right from the start.

He snaps his hips so hard, his pace is also fast that the bed started shaking.

Seonghwa loves the way you react to him, not only that but the sensation that you're giving him.

You are so tight and warm. Just exactly how he wants it.

Your pussy effortlessly pushes him out, yet the moment he starts pushing in again feels like he was getting hugged by wet, mellow vacuum.

You can also feel how he slides in and out of you, mind blowing even when he shifted the positions.

Lifting your legs and putting it over his shoulders let him pound into you on a deeper level.

So deep that his tip grazed over your g-spot, making you arch your back and that gave away the fact that he had hit the prize.

"Finally, I have been looking for that for a while now." he muttered victoriously, smiling darkly as he held onto your waist.

"Get ready, baby."

With the last warning, he thrusted into you relentlessly. His speed is faster than before and he rams harder than before.

Your hands went over to his toned arms, clinging to it like your life depends on it.

"Don't stop." you whimpered, and you really don't want this paradise to end.

You could say that he is a monster in bed, literally.

He is destroying you, tearing you into pieces yet you are all down for this.

You are willing to be demolished, as long as its him.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good baby." Seonghwa praised, his eyes roaming all over your appearance.

And he was stoked.

Strands of your hair are sticking to your face due to the sweat, reddish skin, boobs jiggling because of the amount of force he's using to fuck you silly and mouth open in a silent moan.

Even in your disheveled state, you still managed to look like a goddess and... oh my god he loves you.

He doesn't know what to do with this information, but he'll ignore this now and focus on giving you more pleasure.

"S-Seonghwa, I'm close." you said, looking at him tantalizingly. You couldn't hold it back, the euphoria began washing all over you like a wave and it felt so marvelous.

The overstimulation is getting too much for you to handle after a few minutes of your orgasm yet Seonghwa's still railing into you like there is no tomorrow.

You unintentionally clamped on his length, with a grunt and a few more thrusts, Seonghwa pulled himself out and came all over your stomach.

Sticky and dirty, two things that you'll normally hate but under these circumstances, it is weirdly comforting.

You weren't aware of your surroundings anymore, too tired and sleepy to care.

Still, you vaguely notice Seonghwa clean you up, cuddling you close to him and whispering a sweet goodnight on the crown of your head.

The glaring light of the sun woke Seonghwa up, he was in a good mood, but that turned sour when he saw that you weren't beside him anymore.

"Seonghwa! Are you awake?! C'mon you have to prepare too." The door opens, revealing you in a robe, clearly getting ready for something.

"What?" he dumbly asked.

"What do you mean by 'what'? you playfully rolled your eyes, setting foot in the room and coaxing him out of the bed, reminding him that today is the wedding.

He had no choice but to comply for now, and he'll talk to you later. But there is a bad feeling inside his stomach, he couldn't put his finger on it but... why are you acting normally? Like nothing happened last night.

Are you seriously gonna do this?

You went on with your day like you usually would. Excitedly clapping throughout the wedding and being giddy until the end.

It was suffocating, and he couldn't wait to confront you during the party.

The reception hall was like a palace, with the gigantic chandelier in the middle of the ceiling, marbled floors and touches of red and gold. The wedding planner did so well as he managed to make the place look magical with the set of decors.

But Seonghwa doesn't have any time to dawdle, waiting for the dance part to come so he can zone in on you.

"For all the couples out there, this is your time to shine." the emcee announced, much to his ease.

A slow song was played, and now is his chance. He went and approached the table where you are sitting with your female cousins, doing this gentlemanly thing of asking you for a dance.

In the middle of the heavily populated room, the background is blurred and all he can see is you.

The blue dress that you bought together is perfect on you, hugging your curves just right and it elevated your charms.

His heart is pounding so fast and he doesn't know what to do.

"Y/N, I-"

"Let's forget what happened last night."

And his world shattered into pieces.

You took a deep breath, gathering every bit of your strength and gazing straight into his orbs, "We only have a week, and what happened last night was a mistake, right?"

Reality struck Seonghwa in the face, reminding him of the actual setting he's in.

He's not supposed to fall in love with you. He's not allowed to fall in love with you and vice versa.

Curse this.

"Yes, that is what I was about to say." he agreed despite the bitterness that was pooling in the pit of his stomach.

You smiled a bit, albeit a tiny hint of sadness is hidden behind it, "I'm glad we're on the same page. I don't really want to ruin our friendship."

Suddenly, your arms that are dangling on Seonghwa's neck are heavy and his palms on your waist feel like fire.

So that is what you are, friends.

Either way, life goes on. After the wedding, going home in your own places, you two felt like you did the biggest mistake of your lives.

It was the regret after all, knowing that the cards had been laid out yet the decision you made is to turn a blind eye on it.

Funny thing is that the both of you continued hanging out every day. Spending time with each other day and night, like you are making the most of the remaining time.

It's worse though, because the more you make memories with Seonghwa, the more it makes it difficult for him to accept that the finish line is near.

"Hyung, are you okay?" Yunho asked the drained older man, slumped on the sofa.

"Yeah, I am." he answered blankly.

Before Yunho could badger for more information, Seonghwa stood up and exited the dorm, saying that he has to attend his next class.

On the negative note, he can't concentrate. His brain is doing him a favor by thinking about you, and as if on cue, his phone dinged.

Flashed in the notification of his screen is your name. Upon, opening it, he read a text message from you.

3:17 PM

From: Y/N

Hey Seonghwa, are you busy right now? Can we meet in the school garden, I have something important to say.

He was always good at making excuses, but this might be the best one where his brain cells worked so fast to make reasons for him to be able to get out of class, bolting towards you like the flash.

Upon arriving in the garden, he saw you in a crouching position, petting a stray cat.

As much as he loves to watch you, he's still curious about the urgent matter that you need to address. Thus, he calls your name to catch your attention.

"There you are!" you beamed at him, and before he could react, you grabbed his hand and tugged him along with you.

"Wait! Y/N, what are you doing?!" in his panicked state, which is rare, he doesn't understand what your motives are.

"Isn't it obvious, we're skipping classes!"

He can't believe what he's hearing. You, the top student is skipping classes with him. Isn't it supposed to be the other way round?

Seonghwa was too busy in his own world that he didn't notice you stop in a familiar place. It's the park where he first braided your hair.

"Come sit." you happily tapped the empty space next to you, to which he obeyed.

You examined his side profile.

Ethereal.

That was the only word that you could think of if someone asked you to describe him. Well, that was the adjective that popped in your head whenever you remember how he looked above you that night.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer." he teased, making you smack his shoulders.

"Very funny."

"I know."

The ambience before was tense, a complete 180 of today's atmosphere.

Everything is chill, but the bomb is about to be dropped.

"All good things must come to an end." you quoted, and Seonghwa took a sharp intake of breath at your insinuation.

"This is it, huh?" he stalled, just a few more seconds, please.

"Yeah." you looked down at your feet, closing your eyes and getting ready for the final moment.

"You are one of the best things that happened to me, surprisingly." you took off first, lifting yourself off of the seat and raising your hand for him to take.

"It was a wholesome three months with you, Mister Park." you were waiting for his reply, but got flustered when he enveloped you in his arms.

"And you made me the happiest man on earth during these three months, Ms. L/N."

At the time of your separation, Seonghwa thought he'll be fine.

The 'break-up' was mutual, he was actually stunned that he was able to go through that without shedding a tear. So he really was convinced that he's okay and that he will be able to move on from you.

He has never been wrong.

"Seonghwa, get up and eat." Hongjoong, his friend, turned on the light in his bedroom, making him grumble a small "I don't wanna eat and go away."

Hongjoong sighed and sat at the edge of the bed, revealing a secret that he had been keeping for days.

He's tired of seeing his friend like this.

Dark circles under his eyes, tangled hair, pale complexion, and frankly, he needs to take a bath asap.

"She cried."

Seonghwa immediately removed his covers, eyes wide and ears ready to listen, "Come again?"

"I said, she cried, dumb ass."

"And you made me the happiest man on earth during these three months, Ms. L/N."

Seonghwa let go of you, and you couldn't bear to look at him anymore or else you'll cry on the spot.

"Alright then... bye!" you bowed, turning around and running away from him.

When you're sure that you're out of his sight, you collapsed in a nearby tree and clutched your chest, the area exactly where your heart is.

You expected this, you gave yourself a long peptalk about this last night. But the agony is still unbearable.

Withdrawing him, breaking things off with Seonghwa, is fucking painful than getting punched in the face.

"Excuse me miss, are you okay?"

You looked up at the source of the sound, acknowledging the presence of yout student council president, Kim Hongjoong.

"Oh, yes. Yes, I'm sorry I was just.. doing some things." you felt awkward, knowing that he's one of Seonghwa's friends.

He raised an eyebrow at you, aren't you Seonghwa's girlfriend? Why the hell do you look like a kicked puppy on the side of the road?

You quickly stood up and dusted your skirt, fixing yourself in a hurry, "I gotta go."

"Wait!-"

When Hongjoong got home that day, he saw his brooding friend's broken hearted expression. He looks so down, and that was enough evidence for him to piece two and two together.

"And that's what happened." Hongjoong concluded the story, relieved that he's been able to get that off his mind.

"Really?" Seonghwa rhetorically asked, and something inside him sparked.

"I should go to her. No! I must go to her!"

He left in a hurry, leaving Hongjoong alone in the room and muttering to himself, "He should've at least taken a short shower."

Seonghwa ran around like a mad man, looking for your whereabouts.

The mall, market, park, convenience stores. He's sweating like crazy and the sun is about to go down, where the fuck are you?

Then like a meteor hit him.

The library!

"Y/N!" he opened the door, shouting your name that scared you to death.

"Oh my fu-! Seonghwa?!" you were astounded when you saw him, that increased further when he marched closer to you.

You backed yourself up on the table accidentally, no room to escape when he held you in his arms and kissed you like there's no tomorrow.

You returned the kiss, enjoying the moment that you've missed dearly.

You two are now back in the same place where it all started. Determined to turn a bet into something more realistic.

Pulling away for air, Seonghwa took in every detail of you.

He yearned for you, and he was miserable without you.

"Seonghwa." you murmured, this feels like a dream, because you have come to terms that you'll never be able to see or hold him again like he was truly yours.

"Y/N, fuck the rules." he mumbled, getting straight to the point. "I don't fucking care if I'll turn into loser, as long as I become your lover."

Your eyes turned glassy, tears forming the corner of your lids. Some had already fallen down as Seonghwa kissed all of them away.

"Seonghwa.. I-I need you in my life." you confessed, not at all ashamed, "I know I said that falling in love is forbidden but I love you so much."

Your sobs were muffled when Seonghwa closed the distance between you two once more, sealing the deal.

"Then that's it." he said against your lips, "You are finally, officially, and eternally mine."

The corner of your lips curled up, burying your face on his sculpted chest, "I accept."

There is nothing more than you could ever wish for more than an agreement like this.

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

@hyuckilstan @ateezbabysitters @minkiflwr @kpopcrossworlds @hwadump

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mayaflowerxs · 2 years

Text

LESSON OF THE DAY

Synopsis: In his twenties and finally getting himself in a committed relationship means the lack of experience. And for being the best step sister you are, you help him get better by teaching him. A twisted way to have him wrapped around your finger.

Warning: SMUT . Stepbrother!Haechan x Stepsister!Reader. Cheating, swear word usage, manipulation, dumbification, jealousy, squirting, nonconsented recording, reader overall an antagonist, a hater and just not a good person. A slight Mean Girls reference ;)

Pairing: Haechan x reader

JUNGWOO

Masterlist: NCT AFFAIR SERIES

The spoon in your hand was gripped tightly. A large scowl on your face that you find impossible to cover up, eyes icy cold as you watch Haechan feed his girlfriend as if she isn’t capable of doing it herself. A scoff leaves your mouth as you manage to cover it up with a cough. Looking down at your food you continue eating. It’s not that your not happy for him, heck it’s a miracle the boy finally managed to get himself a girlfriend. The family worrying that with Haechan’s overly jokester side may result with him staying single forever and yet now that he’s finally here, with a girl by his side you really wished you’d go back in time to the times where you gave him hell for not being able to pull anyone. And now as the days go by you have no peace in your own house. Every damn day she’s here and her high pitched laugh makes your eyes roll once again, how you haven’t strained them yet is a mystery. You and Haechan don’t have the most solid relationship. I mean he’s a bit of a nerd. His friends have even created their own club because no other real clubs would accept them even though he claims they’re ‘too cool’ for the real deal. Hours constantly spent playing video games and binge watching anime. Reading whatever special edition comic book they purchased and spending all night on the phone squealing like little girls talking about their favorite part.

You were used to the boy that you constantly fought to get to the bathroom first. The one you bang on your wall to get him to shut the fuck up and the one you’ve encountered a few interesting run ins with. Several times you seen your step brother wearing little to no pieces of clothing. And while you, someone whose completely different from him. One who dares pretend you too aren’t ‘family’ because of how much of a loser he is, you have to admit he has a smoking body. One you tend to fantasize doing such vulgar things to you. Nights and nights spent locked in your room, hand down your shorts and eyes closed shut as your mind runs wild with the image of Haechan and his body. So maybe seeing him with a girlfriend is just ruining that for you. You no longer can see him as the dork who tries to prove to you that he can be considered hot. Trying to flex his arms and take cringy selfies. Now he’s Haechan, the guy with a girlfriend that can’t seem to stop sucking his face. She’s ruined him. Her disgusting lips on his, always finding a way to climb on his lap right as you enter the area. Pouting her lip injected lips to feed her and fake a baby voice to get him to do whatever she wants. He’s a loser yes but not a bitch.

And if he were to become a bitch. It certainly wouldn’t be with someone who has spent her daddy’s money to shove plastic in parts of her body that didn’t need them in the first place. And so when his girlfriend finally leaves and he comes back with a goofy looking grin on his face, you simply throw a pillow at his face to remove the idiot look off him. Without a word, retrieving yourself back to your room.

In college you’d expect it to be different from high school and in some cases yes. Thing is, the one thing that hasn’t changed yet is the status one has. Haechan is bunched with the geeks, nerds, and losers. Bottom of the list that is far from where you stand. Popular, rebellious, daring and witty. Many know you for many reasons. Good and bad and it’s why so many want to get a piece of you. To have the glory and say they got close with you. As ‘friends’ or hookups. You were seen as an ultimate trophy. And while you have a reputation to maintain, Haechan cared for no such thing. Partying? Nah. Getting high with friends on a random Tuesday? Nope. Shoplifting on a Thursday night? Nuh uh.

You don’t really understand where your mother and his father got the idea that you two would mix well. You two lived two completely different worlds, you always held some sort of resentment toward him. He was too good, too nice and too pure. You hated how caring he was. How forgiving he seems to be and it irritates the hell out of you. You practically see the bright white aura vibrating off him. But it’s also something you find endearing about him. A Friday night can end with you stumbling into the arms of said guy. Calling him in the middle of the night, pleading for him to give you a ride home and even though he told you the previous party it’d be his last time and with you promising that you wouldn’t get too drunk he still came to pick you up regardless. A hoodie over him, looking so soft and cuddly that has you craving him all over again. Wrapping your arms around him as you give his cheek a big smooch.

“Haechanie!” You squeal excitedly as you walk out the large house and into his arms. A small disappointed sigh comes from him but helps you stand regardless. “My feet hurt.” You pout, “Well you shouldn’t have worn heels and especially be out this late. Thought you promised no more.” Whining when he begins to nag, you nuzzle your face in his neck. “Carry me?” A thing you also know about the said boy is how difficult it is for him to say no. And at times like these, almost every attempt of yours end in your favor. Arm gripping behind your thighs, lifting you off the ground as he wraps your legs around your waist you try to ignore the throbbing feeling. Biting your lip as he makes his way back to his car. The lust was obviously building and the closer the proximity was the closer you just wanted to rip his clothes off him.

Coming home, Haechan managed to walk in without getting you two caught. House dark and quiet as he makes his way upstairs. You still cradled, arms secretly around his neck as your hot breath blows his skin. Chills that rises down his spine. Gulping as he tries to kick your door open and settle you down. You didn’t want to pull away, fuck you just wanted to beg him to take you right then and there. His messy fluffy hair and glasses propped on his nose was too much to you. How does the dork manage to get you so turned on? Taking off your heels and grabbing a wipe to take the makeup off. Pulling at the duvets to get you under but you whine, “Haechanie the dress.” Helping you get out of it, you lean in closer until your faces are only an inch apart. You hold back the smugness when you notice him gulp. Eyes going back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “Goodnight.” He quickly kisses your forehead and walks out. A bit confused that you didn’t give back a snappy remark at how soft he is. Something you always made it clear you hated.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Another fucking day with her here, hands gripped tight as she was practically grinding her ass on him. So ticked by her presence you made your way out of the living room and into the bathroom. Dialing a number you least expected, “Hello?” Lee Jeno, one of Haechan’s loser friends. Also apart of his dorky club, also a hacker. “It’s me y/n.” You say monotonously. “Oh! H-Hey y/n, I didn’t expect a call from you.” “Were you expecting any calls at all today?” Before he can stutter out another response you cut him off. “Listen I need a number, can you find it for me?” Hearing rustling from the other line, “Yeah sure! From who?” “The mother of Haechan’s girlfriend.” “Jenna’s mom? Why do you-“ “Jeno can you give it to me or not?” “N-No! No! I can, hold on just give me a second.”

A few minutes go by before another number was dialed. A few seconds later and the phone picked up. “Hello?” “Hey! Is this Jenna?” “No, Jenna isn’t here this is her mother. Who’s this?” “Oh! Well I’m Katie from Planned Parenthood, I was just calling to say that I have her test results. Please have her call at the earliest convenience, thank you!” Hanging up the call right after, you walk out the bathroom and back into the god forsaken living room in which didn’t take much for another phone call to happen. Eyes directly at the tv screen as Jenna answered, beginning to panic when she can’t seem to make her mother calm down. “I don’t understand? What are you talking about?” You can hear the shouting coming from the other line and with a proud smirk, you quickly wipe it off as she stands up abruptly. “I’m sorry I got to go, something’s come up. Sorry babe.” “Oh it’s okay! We can always hang out tomorrow-“

“Tomorrow? But Haechanie I thought you were going to come to my recital?” You say sadly, sad eyes as you stare into Haechan’s. “Oh that’s right I did say yes to that. I’m sorry Jenna, some other time?” Nodding her head, she grabs her things and goes to lean in for a kiss but you’re quick to stand up and ‘accidently’ knock into her. “Oops I’m sorry! Man I can be very clumsy.” “It’s okay.” She whispers, giving him one last goodbye as he walks her out. When the door finally closes you relax. Watching Haechan go back to the living room, you eye him. Hands to himself and pink cheeks. It’s obvious how inexperienced this boy is and how easily flustered he gets.

Going to sit next to him, you gain his attention immediately. “Hey.” He smiles warmly at you. “Are you a virgin?” His eyes widen at the sudden question, “What? Why would you ask such a question?” He laughs nervously. Face turning red with embarrassment. The little control you had quickly goes out the window as you climb onto his lap. Hands raised as he grows rigid. “Y/n! What are you doing?!” Cupping his face you lean in closer, “Have you ever wondered what it feels like to have your dick wrapped in a nice tight hole?” Gulping, he finds it hard to place his eyes at. Too embarrassed to look at you and too flustered to look below your face. And yet pathetically, his cock hardens at your naughty words. “Don’t say such things!” He tries to scold you. “Why?” “Because this is wrong- oh!” Tilting his head back as he feels you grind on him, face leaning down to peck kisses on his neck. Tiny hairs lifting at the touch. “My pussy’s throbbing for you baby.” Shaking his head, he sets his hand in your hips. Wanting to push your away and instead keeping you in place.

“We can’t do this y/n, we’re family now.” “We’ve never been family Haechan. Don’t act like you haven’t peaked through my door while I was in nothing but in a bralette and panties. Like you don’t fuck your pillow and whine my name.” Tsking, you take his hand and shove it down your shorts. A small groan escapes him as his fingers immediately gets covered in your slick. “My baby boy is all grown up, he’s got himself a pathetic girlfriend who’s obviously trying to take things further but you won’t. Tell me Haechanie, is it cuz you never been inside a cunt before?” Moaning he drops his head to rest on top of your breast and nods. Patting his soft hair, biting your lip as his large hand grips firmly on your hips. Loving the feeling of his hands, feeling yourself slowly go crazy for him.

“Poor baby so inexperienced, you want a lesson from me mhm? Want to learn how to fuck like a man?” Nodding his head pathetically he mumbles a soft please. “Can’t hear you.” “Please y/n. Please teach me.” Satisfied with his answer, you get off his lap. About to protest but he shuts himself off when you pull him by his collar. “Let’s go to your room baby, want the memory of finally becoming a man to stay in the bed you sleep in.” Haechan was painfully hard, pants tight for his comfort and it’s sad just how quick he fell under your trap. Eyes filled with nothing but a plead to fuck him senselessly. Pushing him back on the bed as you lock the door behind him. Climbing on top of him when you begin your assault on his neck. His breathing quickening as his chest heaved. Hands going back to holding onto you for dear life, eyes closed as he savors the feeling of your lips on his skin. Growing oblivious to you pulling out your phone and propping it on his nightstand. Camera app opened and facing you two in which you press play. A little gift you plan to make for his dearest Jenna.

“Touch me Haechan. Feel my breasts.” Guiding him up to cup your boobs , love seeing the hunger in his eyes. Love how captivated you have him. Taking your shirt off to give him a better view, push up bra working wonders for you. Giggling, you wipe the slight drool that falls out of his mouth. “So cute, all needy and drooling. You want me Haechanie?” Not trusting his voice he goes to nod but you have none of that. “No Hyuck, use your words. You want me?” “Want you so much.” He whimpers. Pecking his nose, you sit up and take off your bra. Letting your breasts fall freely, grabbing his hands to squeeze them. “Play with them baby, pinch my nipples feel how hard and sensitive they are for you.” He couldn’t help but arch his hips up. His hands felt great against your tits so great it’s sending shock waves to his dick. A rather loud moan emits from you from the unexpected thrust. “Fuck Haechan do that again.”

Obeying you he lifts his hips and he too lets out noises of pleasure. Biting his bottom lip to keep him quieter but a slight slap from you as you grip his cheek. “I wanna hear you Hyuck, be a good boy and be as loud as you can fucking get.” Taking off his shirt you lean in to start sucking large red hickies from his neck, not going lower until you find his soft spot he can’t stop taking large deep breathes. A red trail going down his chest, licking right above his waistline as you look up at him. Meeting contact with him as you proceed to undue his belt. Pulling his jeans back, a wet patch there that you can’t resist to lick. “Oh fuck!” He gasps at the sudden feeling. Head thrown back as his thrusts up again. “Hold my hair back baby while I suck every last drop out of you.” You tell him and go to pull down his briefs. His hard cock springing back to lay flat on his chest. Tip red and veiny, large and screaming to be touched. Feeling bad for the many years it’s only action it received was Haechan’s hand. Feeling his warm hands come to take a hold of your hair, gentle with it as he makes sure to hold every strand of it. Watching a few drops of precum ooze out of him, a hiss coming from him when you grab his dick, hips out of control as his legs begin to squeeze you in place. A smack to his thigh has him releasing his hold on you.

“Be good Haechan.” You tell him sternly as you lick his entire underside of his dick. A loud moan can be heard throughout the room, a proud smirk as you look over to the camera. Haechan in all his glory shown naked on his bed with his stepsister giving him head. Noises one never heard come from him. Dropping your saliva down on his tip as you use your hand to cover his entire eight inches wet. Veins getting more prominent and glistening by it. Tiny little feathery kisses planted on his tip, love teasing the shit out of him. Love seeing how far gone he’s getting. How loud you can make Haechan when it’s all just begun. Love how you are pleasuring Haechan and not her. You were going to take his virginity away and you will be showing Haechan no other woman is good enough for him. A silent promise that by the end of the night, Haechan will become yours and no one else’s.

“Please!” Haechan pleads as the teasing is getting too overwhelming. Tears begin to brim his sockets as he tries very hard to not hurt you by fisting his hand. “Fuck my throat Haechan.” “Don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbles. “You wanna fuck like a man? Then satisfy your lady, and I say. Fuck. My. Throat.” Having no other self control, he fists your hair and begins to force his inches up your mouth. Beautiful grunts come out of him with how great your mouth felt wrapped around his cock. His hand can’t fucking compare to the warmth and wetness of your mouth. Your tongue licking his cock even when it’s brutally slamming the back of your throat. The feeling so great he’s nearing his release so soon. Feeling blessed having no reflex, you let Haechan fuck your throat until his body pleads no more. Eyes always on him and his face scrunching. Brows furrowing and Adam’s apple becoming prominent. Sweat beginning to form on his forehead, a sight heavenly to you. “Angel I’m close.” He whines. Going to pull out, you grip his hand and push it away. Gasping when you begin to bob your head, sucking your lips to tightening your lips around his large girth. Tongue flickering back and forth around his tip as your hand goes to work for the rest that can’t fit your small mouth.

Going so fast Haechan is left gripping the sheets tightly. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He chants like a mantra. Head thrown back as he feels himself pour his semen down your throat. Looking back down and falling in love with you swallowing every last drop. Licking his tip clean and opening your mouth to show him not a single drop was left. Kissing his lips, he kisses you back just as needy and with want. Growing more confident he wraps his arms around you. Pulling you closer as he shoves his tongue in your mouth. Feeling and tasting himself, large hands cupping your face as his thumbs caress your cheeks softly. When letting you pull away for air you feel sex driven like never before. You’ve never felt so much desire to fuck someone until now nor the thrill of foreplay. And yet currently in your step brothers bed, him lying obediently underneath you. You just want to fuck him all day and night, with absolutely no breaks.

But this is all a teaching lesson. Haechan can’t be experienced if he doesn’t learn and while you really just want to hop on his dick, you force yourself to be patient. “Lay back down baby.” Doing as he was told, he waits needily for your next decision. Surprised when you begin to crawl up to his face. “Wanna be good? It’s time you repay me baby, eat my pussy.” He froze, confused on what to do next and he doesn’t start working you up until he feels your hand pull him closer to you. Shocked by how well he was doing, a pro working his game as if he’s done it a million times before. Room getting louder and louder with the combination of your moans and the slurping sounds Haechan’s creating. Hands gripping you down firmly on top of his face, needier than ever and hungry for more of you. Never did he think he’d love pussy so much and now here he is going crazy for it. For you.

This wasn’t his ideal way of losing his virginity. He always wanted it to be special and for that he thought special meant romantic and soft and yet having you suffocating his face with your cunt couldn’t get anymore romantic for him. Sucking and nibbling has your thighs shaking, body screaming for the upcoming release. Mouth hanging wide as your head is thrown back. In pure bliss by his mouth working wonders. “So good!” You praise him, something you notice brings him great joy. Proven right when he begins to nuzzle his face closer, refusing to tilt his head back for a breather. Loud sucking noises are heard and your moans turn into slight screams. Hands gripping the bed frame tightly as your entire body jolts. Hips lifting off his face that he quickly pulls back down. Forcing you to take every inch of his tongue shoving its way up your hole. Walls clenching and the familiar euphoric feelings washing over you. So strong you begin to see spots. So much spots. Finally pulling away to breathe, Haechan still doesn’t stop his assault on your clit. Rubbing harsh circles to get you to cum again. The idea of squirting on his face fascinating him. And with scrunched brows, he rubs figure eights quicker and continues to lick until you couldn’t anymore.

“Baby no more - God!” Words cracking and short breathes squeaking you feel another strong build up and before you can fully process it, you’re climaxing all over his face. So wet it was underneath you. Pillow drenched and thighs covered in your essence and still Haechan took every drop gratefully. Cute puppy eyes looking up at you, silently asking if he did alright as if he didn’t just get done fucking the daylights out of you with just his tongue. Climbing off him, chest heaving as you lie on the bed on the opposite end of him. Desperate to try and catch your breath that you don’t predict Haechan’s sudden moves. Chucking the drenched pillow off the bed and wrap your legs around his waist, he leans down to suck dark hickies on your neck. A confidence you never seen in him. Taken you by surprised but still enticed by it. A hand lazily run through his now wet hair. Hips softly grinding into yours, a moan from both mouths when your sensitive genitals touch.

“Need you y/n.” He whines in your ear. Lifting his head to look you directly in the eyes. Not being able to contain himself and leans down to kiss your lips. Loving the taste of your lips, obsessed with every part of you he can’t seem to feign ignorance after today. Feeling the passion through his kisses, a loving attraction one that screams how whipped he is for you. Pupils dilated as his brown orbs showed softness. Vulnerable looking face that looks at you for reassurance and guidance. His touches so gentle and kisses holding lots of meaning, how on earth could you ever deny him?

“Fuck me Hyuck.”

He does it gladly.

“Oh ! My…f-fuck…” Haechan can’t seem to put words together as the feeling of your walls wrapping themselves around his girth. So sensitive he fears he won’t last as long as he hopes. Having to freeze and compose himself which you give him time. A hand caressing his cheek, legs spread wide for him to have as much space as he wishes. “Take your time- Shit!” You didn’t expect the sudden hard thrust into your core. Each one, another harder and faster thrust has his pelvis coming in contact with yours. Your arousal completly covering his entire dick. So wet you’re almost confident the neighbors could hear. You couldn’t control yourself, your moans keep getting louder the more your stepbrother pounds you. He knows your body so damn well in such a short time. Knows how to angle his hips to fuck the blissful feeling into you. Thighs smacking into his as his hands keep you firmly on the bed. Wanting to see your face contort into pleasure every time he plunges his cock into you. Needs to know he’s doing a good job in satisfying you.

His thrust begin to falter its pace. Sloppier and quicker as he begins to reach for his high, shaking his head as he keeps tensing. “Not coming until you do.” He says huskily, eyes drawn between your swollen cunt and his slick covered cock. How well you fit him even with how big he is, proud you took him so nicely . Like you were meant for him and only him. Leaning down to peck your forehead, even with his lustful eyes he still shows fondness for you. “My angel.” He mumbles as he begins to shake from the need to fuck his cum in you. An arm wraps behind his neck, “Cum with me baby.” You whisper to him, nodding he applies most of his weight on top of you. Arms hugging you closer to him as he rests his chin on your shoulder. Soft kisses trailing up to your neck as he keeps pounding into you, biting his lip when he is reaching his end.

“Fuck! Fuck!” He breathes out as ropes of his warm white cum shoots deep in you, a slight bulge forming in your abdomen of the tip of his dick. Releasing around his dick you feel yourself get full. When you thought it was over he continued shooting more cum into you, so much pent up he concludes. Looking down to seeing some oozing out of you. Groaning as he lazily fucks into you, a slight frown forms when he sees more of his cum is slipping out of you. Pulling out, he is quick to salvage some of it with his fingers and shove them inside you. Pecking your stomach in comfort when you let out a loud whine. Gripping the messy sheets, eyes forced shut and head laid flat on the bed. Trying your hardest to not fall into subspace.

Feeling arms wrap themselves around you, you are picked up and engulfed in Haechan’s warm embrace. Plump lips pecking your temple as he pushes back your hair from your face. “Did I do good?” He asks nervously. “So fucking good. My good boy.” You play with his hair, seeing a small twinkle. The cute adorable smile and dorkiness making its comeback to him. Cheek covered in tiny kisses from him, you lay in his chest happy you achieved your goal.

You haven’t sent the video yet. You felt it was too soon, you wanted to make sure Haechan was yours all the way and it seemed to be proven correct by the subtle touches and clinginess he shows. “I see you two are really getting along!” Your mother claps her hands happily as Haechan’s father smiles warmly. She wasn’t totally wrong. The days they aren’t home it’s spent with your back blown and Haechan close to losing his voice by how well you suck him. As the days go on it’s even gotten riskier. At night when the desires are high, you couldn’t give a damn that they were in the next room to Haechan’s. A hand covering his mouth as you bring a finger to your lips. Bouncing on his cock as the bed slightly rocks into the wall, his hands already gripping tightly and securely around your hips.

During the day when they’re downstairs doing god knows what while you’re too busy being railed by Haechan in the bathroom. A leg lifted as he fucks you up on the sink, large mirror giving you two a full view of the sins you two were continuously making. Even in the same room as them you two dared touch each other. A movie night that has you two sharing a blanket ends with him shoving his fingers in your cunt and you fisting your hand around his hard cock. Finger furiously teasing the tip. At school you two even ditch your friends to go have sex. Janitors closet, bathroom stall, empty classroom. You two were sex addicts for the other. Haechan can’t stay away from you he needs you all the time. He feels sad when he can’t hold you. Something as simple as hugging you is a necessity for him and so when his girlfriend comes around and she’s the one hogging him rather than you he can’t help but find it irritating. He wants you and only you. No woman not even his girlfriend who he thought the world of can compare anymore. He’s falling in love with you and he doesn’t know whether he should worry or not but when the day ends and he’s back in your arms he know longer cares.

And so when Saturday came, roughly awaken from his dream of you. A loud shouting coming from the front door, he isn’t as bothered for the reasoning behind it. An angry looking Jenna, phone in hand showing him the video you sent her. An hour and a half of you two fucking each other’s brains out. Eyes bloodshot and hot tears smearing her mascara, arms wrapping around his mid waist that he soon identifies them as yours. A prideful look on your face as you lay soft kisses on his bicep. You weren’t worried nor anxious. Sending her the video was just the confirmation that Haechan was now officially yours and no matter what she has to reprimand him of, he won’t care.

“How could you!”

A shrug from him, had him closing the door in her face. Turning around and smiling down at you. Both parents out on a five day business trip, five days to show each other some more how well you two mix. Five days to show you how much he loves you and five days to show him you indeed have him wrapped around your finger.

“I love you.” He plants a kiss to your lips.

“So much.”

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why-what-no · 2 years

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Taste In Music

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Billy realizes there is more to Hawkins than meets the eye when he meets a sweet girl who likes the same music as him, immediately pulling his interest. Inspired by that one scene in 500 days of summer.

Requested By: @mothshabby

Billy stood outside of the school, cigarette in hand and heavy metal playing through his headphones. A full month of living in Hawkins and it was already driving him insane. Sure, some of the girls were cute and most of the guys already worshiped him. But… he couldn’t help but feel like an alien to them.

The bell for next period rang, but Billy ignored it. He could skip math.

As it finished ringing, a few people trickled out of the school. The ones with spares who were going to grab a snack or stop by their homes before their next class. One girl left the school through the side doors he was standing besides, rather than the front doors like her other friends.

“Oh.” She seemed a little surprised to see someone there. “Hi.” She obviously recognized him, but he just nodded at her and returned to his music. He didn’t know who she was, and he expected her to just go to do whatever she was leaving the school to do.

Instead, she leaned closer, listening in to his music. “I love Metallica.” She said, momentarily catching Billy off guard.

He turned down the music, thinking he misheard his classmate. “Sorry?”

“I said.” She repeated herself, an almost cheerful note to her tone. “I love Metallica. It…” She gestured vaguely to his headphones. “You have good taste in music.”

She laughed somewhat awkwardly, like she wasn’t used to speaking to people she didn’t know but did it anyway because she genuinely cared about the subject. He chuckled at both her and her words. “You like Metallica?” He hadn’t expected that from her but was honestly a little impressed. Being so used to his schoolmates only playing the Top 100, both here and in California, he was glad that there was someone here who understood his liking of more intense music.

“Yeah.” She replied, singing along to the words being yelled through his headphone speakers. Proving to him that she wasn’t lying about her taste in music. “I love ‘em.”

He was about to say something back, but another girl – probably her friend - called (Y/N) away.

“Holy shit…” He was grinning almost in disbelief as she left, even though he was honestly a little disappointed by her leaving. This one little interaction made him wanting to talk with her more. But despite that desire, it was days before he actually got to speak to her again.

During that time, he at least learned who she was. The girl wasn’t exactly popular, being a member of some game club (“Hellfire” was apparently what it was called). But, she seemed to escape the usual torment he associated with geeks because of her friendliness and her ability to blend in with most crowds. She mostly sat with her club at lunch, all boys who Billy and his friends raised a slight eyebrow at, as well as sometimes sitting with some girls she was friendly with.

It took going to some shitty party for Billy to catch the girl alone. One of the boys on the basketball team, Jack, had parents who were out of town and invited people over. But he had slightly underestimated how many people came to these shindigs and Billy amused himself by watching the boy nervously trying to figure out how to get more beer.

Until, however, (Y/N) went up to him. “I asked Sarah to grab more drinks on her way here. She’ll be here in a few minutes.”

The younger boy breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Thank Christ. You’re a lifesaver… Um?” Apparently he didn’t remember her name.

“(Y/N).”

“You’re a lifesaver, (Y/N).”

She just laughed warmly, seemingly uncaring that she was practically invisible to most people Billy knew at their school. “No problem. Just don’t forget to grab your wallet.”

The boy seemed confused. “My wallet?”

“To pay back Sarah when she arrives.” (Y/N) helpfully responded. “For the drinks?”

“Oh, yeah.” Realization hit Jack, and Billy chuckled at the boys former assumption that (Y/N) was going to give Jack drinks for free. The audacity of these rich kids, honestly. “I’ll go grab that..” He trailed off, leaving to go find some cash.

As soon as Jack was gone, he made his way over to her. “Glad you didn’t let him off scot-free.” He called out to the girl, who quickly turned to him.

When she realized who it was, she smiled at him in greeting before shrugging. “Of course. I’m nice, but not that nice. Besides, it wasn’t even my money to give away.”

“Fair.” He replied. “And it’s not like he’s strapped for cash. Look at this place.” He gestured to the house, which was indeed very nice. He momentarily imagined himself living in a place like this, but quickly banished that thought. His dad couldn’t afford anything like this.

“All that money and he couldn’t even get enough drinks to get through the night.” (Y/N) half-mused, half-joked, pulling a laugh out of Billy.

“Absolutely, not even enough to get you one.” He nodded at her empty hands.

(Y/N) shook her head. “No, I’m… I’m actually designated driver tonight, so no drinks for me.”

He took in that information, disappointed since it meant he couldn’t offer to drive her home. “Who you driving?”

“My friends Gareth and Eddie.” She told him, looking around to see if she could catch a glimpse of them. “But they’re off somewhere getting high or something.”

“Shame.” He remarked, a little disappointed in those guys for leaving a girl like her alone at a party. “Still, it means I get to talk to you.”

That obviously surprised her, as she tilted her head at looked at him bemusedly. “You wanted to talk to me?” Completely unaware how their original talk intrigued him.

“Of course, its not every day that I meet a cute girl with the same taste in music as me.”

“I mean, I like a lot of music.” She shrugged once again but failing to hide a smile at his words and compliment. “Metal is just one of the genres I listen to.”

“Still, its pretty cool.” He told her. “You know, maybe we should hang out some time. Talk about all that music you like?”

“Like.. like a date?” She asked suspiciously.

Smirking, Billy leaned closer to her. “Do you want it to be a date?”

“I, I just.” He obviously caught her off guard. “You said I was cute and I just assumed…”

“Sweetheart, sweetheart.” He interrupted her, trying to put her out of her misery. “Of course I wanna go on a date with you.” He had just avoided the word in case she wasn’t interested in him.

“Oh.” She looked relieved. “Cool, I’d like to too. I…” She got momentarily distracted by two boys behind Billy. “Shit, those are my friends. I gotta…” She looked up at Billy apologetically.

“Don’t worry about it.” He reassured her. Gently taking her arm, he pulled a marker out of his pocket (one that he saved just for phone numbers, although the last few days he only kept it around out of the hope that he could get hers) and wrote down his contact info on her. “Call me okay? I wanna talk to you again.”

“Ok.” (Y/N) smiled, trying not to seem too excited. “Bye.”

She started to leave, but in a split second turned back to give him a quick kiss before rushing off after her friends.

He could still remember the feeling of her lips on his all throughout the party, where he spent the rest of the night unusually happy and grinning all night. Billy wondered if he was going to leave every interaction with (Y/N) with this smile.

He certainly hoped so.

#stranger things #billy hargrove imagine #stranger things billy #billy hargove x reader #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove #stranger things imagine #Metallica #500 days of summer #my fics

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koqabear · 9 months

Text

2K Event | Masterlist

✧ event is now closed! ✧

key: (f) ; fluff // (a) ; angst // (s) ; smut // — ? ; genres not included/decided. // *; i have received multiple requests and will be merging them.

✧ please make sure to check the masterlist before requesting; your request may already be in here! if you see your request doesn't have a set genre and would like to change it, send me an ask and let me know. if you don’t see your request, it’s because it didn’t abide to the rules.✧

✩ Revisiting stories

« Yeonjun »

✩ Wanna Play A Game? - "escaping with Yeonjun" hurt/comfort, (s)

✩ Love Fool - "roles reversed" (f) (s)

✩ What the Body Wants - "a helping hand" (f) (s)

« Soobin »

✩ What the Body Wants - "the aftermath" (f) (s) *

✩ My Life In Your Hands - "getting reunited" — ?

« Beomgyu »

✩ Camera Shy - "what happens after" (f) (s) *

✩ Camera Shy - "roles reversed" (f) (s)

✩ Killer Instinct - "beomgyu focus" action, (f) (s) *

✩ Hey Emo Boy! - "how fame affects the relationship" (s)

« Taehyun »

✩ Stuck with You - "mc & Taehyun falling in love" (s) (f) (a)*

✩ Wanna Play A Game? - "surviving with Taehyun" — ?

« Hueningkai »

✩ Whatever She Wants - "dom/sub roles reversed" (s)

✩ Whatever She Wants - "himbo huening + being oblivious to advances" (s) *

✩ song equations!

« Yeonjun »

✩ NCT, Drippin' - (s)

✩ Britney Spears, Criminal - (s) (f)

✩ Chase Atlantic, Church - (s)

✩ ENHYPEN, Bite Me - (s)

✩ ENHYPEN, CRIMINAL LOVE - (s)

« Soobin »

✩ Taylor Swift, You Are In Love — ?

✩ Daniel Caesar, Do You Like Me? - (s)

✩ ABBA, Angeleyes — ?

« Beomgyu »

✩ Rihanna, Shut Up And Drive - (f) (s)

✩ BIBI, KAZINO - (f) (s)

✩ NewJeans, Get Up - (a) (f) (s)

✩ The Neighborhood, Sweater Weather - (a) (f)

✩ 6arelyhuman, Hands Up! (Slowed Ver.) — ?

✩ JEON SOMI, Fast Forward - (f) (s)

✩ Chase Atlantic, Meddle About - (s)

✩ Deftones, Entombed - rockstar!au, (s)

✩ The Weeknd, One Of The Girls - (f) (s)

« Taehyun »

✩ Taylor Swift, Dress - (f) (s)

✩ TXT, Tinnitus (Demo Ver.) - (a) (f) (s)

✩ Timeflies, Undress Rehearsal - (s)

« Hueningkai »

✩ Ruth B. , Dandelions - (f) (s)

✩ Superfruit, GUY.exe - (f) (s)

✩ Lana Del Rey, Art Deco — ?

« Multiple Members »

✩ Triple H, 365 FRESH - Taehyun and Yeonjun, (a) (s)

✩ The mic is yours! [hard + soft hours are open]

« Yeonjun »

✩ mean ceo! yeonjun — ?

✩ fox hybrid! yeonjun x bunny hybrid! reader — ?

« Soobin »

✩ camp counselor!au - (a) (s)

« Beomgyu »

✩ ex best friend! beomgyu - (a) , (s)

✩ band geek! beomgyu x cheerleader!reader — ?

✩ idol! beomgyu x idol!reader - (s)

✩ beomgyu x bunny hybrid!reader - (s)

« Taehyun »

✩ tyun x smart gf! mc + dumbification - (s)

« Hueningkai »

✩ perv!neighbor kai - (s)

« OT5 / Multiple Members »

✩ OT5 + oral fixation - (s)

✩ OT5 + teasing - (s)

✩ OT5 + brat taming - (s)

✩ childhood best friend! OT5 + turning popular and ditching the reader (s)

✩ best friend!OT5 + walking in on the reader - (s)

✩ Soobin + Beomgyu - royal!au, — ?

#[2k event!]#[revisiting stories]#[song equations]#[the mic is yours]#mini masterlist #txt fanfiction #(yes i used the same layout so what)

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luminnara · 2 years

Text

Maneater | Billy Hargrove x demon!reader NSFW (18+ ONLY)

There’s a new girl in town…and she’s got a killer beauty routine.

AKA Billy x Jennifer’s Body style reader

Requests and commissions are open!

@smenny @infinitelyforgotten @littlewinter1917 @djiafjaidjcj

Warnings: violence, cannibalism (sorta? Reader is a demon so technically not?) eating people lol, sexual talk, flirtin, smut

(I tried really hard to find a cropped version of this gif but I couldn’t 😩)

You always felt your best after a good night’s beauty sleep, your usual skincare routine, and devouring a boy or two. Sure, it was a little unorthodox, and it was the result of a virgin sacrifice gone wrong (seriously, how did those creepy band dudes think you were a virgin? Ouch), but it was your thing now, and you were totally owning it.

The best part? You wouldn’t have any problems finding fresh meat in your new home of Hawkins, Indiana, because you knew that no matter where you went, there were always going to be stupid, horny boys just begging for you to play around in their chest cavities. You could go just about anywhere and still be able to do your thing, and even though you were in the middle of buttfuck nowhere Indiana, you were excited to check out the locals. Maybe size them up.

Look for someone yummy.

It was a gorgeous spring morning, and you felt amazing. You felt like you could do anything, and you could—when you were full and happy, you were way more powerful than a normal human. Those shitty band guys may have been total idiots, but at least you got some cool new powers out of their silly little ritual. On the outside, you looked gorgeous, with clear, practically glowing skin, a charming smile, and bright eyes…but on the inside, you were a monster straight from hell.

And that didn’t bother you one bit.

Hawkins High was a small school. The parking lot wasn’t even paved. The junior high was right across the driveway. Despite the…quaintness of it all, however, everyone milling around by their cars looked like they all thought they were hot shit. There were groups of girls standing around, snapping their gum and twirling their hair as they gossiped. There were guys in letterman jackets, shoving each other around for fun. There was one boy with impressively nice hair, and one who screamed metal head trailer trash.

Some of them looked like their families had money. Some looked like they were from the wrong side of the tracks. Some were nerds, some were band geeks, some were desperately trying to fit in with the popular clique…they were all equal in your eyes, no matter how different they seemed. They were all fresh meat, and they probably all tasted just fine.

“Who the hell is that?” Carol asked, shoving Tommy aside to get a better look.

Her boyfriend stumbled slightly, irritated that she had cut him off just as he was finally getting handsy with her for the first time in two weeks. “Who?”

“Look, idiot,” Carol snapped.

She grabbed him by the jacket and forced him to turn. When he did, he saw that she was looking at someone he didn’t recognize—

Someone hot.

Someone real hot.

“Goddamn,” he breathed, his eyes glued to you as you sauntered through the lot. “Hargrove. Hey.”

Billy wasn’t listened. Instead, he was leaning against his Camaro as he lit a cigarette and tried to pretend that his ribs weren’t bruised. When Tommy grabbed at his shirt, he immediately stiffened and sneered, straightening up and catching the other boy’s arm.

“The hell is your problem?” He growled.

“Check out the new girl.”

Billy’s grip loosened slightly, teeth clenching around his cigarette as his eyes left Tommy. He found you way more interesting to focus on, anyways, and he was immediately interested.

He grinned, clapping Tommy’s shoulder as he straightened up and moved in your direction.

“Where’re you goin?” Tommy called after him.

“To give our new compatriot a friendly, Hawkins welcome,” Billy replied, a wild look in his eyes as he followed you through the front doors.

You stopped by the office for your schedule and locker number, playing nice and dumb with the secretary. You laughed whenever she did, you said thank you when you took your papers from her, and you gave her a charming smile that you knew would win anybody over. If she was any indicator, Hawkins would be even easier to settle into than you thought.

When you stepped out the door, you nearly ran face first into someone.

Someone who smelled delicious.

“Oh, sorry,” you immediately turned on the charm as your eyes traveled up his broad chest. When they settled on his face, you were surprised to see that he was absolutely gorgeous…and something in his gaze sent a little shiver up your spine.

“No need to apologize, sweetheart,” he smirked. “Name’s Billy.”

You could tell he was checking you out. Boys always did, especially when you were feeling well fed and full of yourself. There was some sort of magnetic pull that drew them in, like the sweet smell of a carnivorous plant beckoning insects forward. Billy definitely wasn’t an insect…but he might make a nice meal nonetheless.

You bit your lower lip and batted your lashes at him. “Wanna show me around, Billy? I don’t know where my new locker is…”

Billy wanted to laugh.

Did you think he was stupid? He knew his way around flirting. He was the king of playing nice to get what he wanted, whether it be slipping into someone’s pants or getting information. Billy could tell that you were pretending to be sugary and sweet with him…but what were you hiding underneath this practically otherworldly exterior?

You were a lot more interesting than he had originally thought, apparently.

“Yeah, I’ll show you around, sweetheart.” He winked.

“Thank you, handsome,” you said, your voice dripping with honey.

It was obvious that he wanted to get in your pants. You knew boys well enough to know that much. He was being sweet and charming to get what he wanted, kind of like you did…and you figured that would make him a nice and easy target.

You walked down the hall with him, looking up at his face and studying what you could see. He had a nice, strong jaw, and thick, curly hair cut into a mullet. His eyes were the brightest blue you’d ever seen, and as he watched rest of the student body, you noticed that they were incredibly observant.

Like a hawk looking for fat little rabbits.

“So where’re you from, sweetheart?” He drawled boredly, as if small talk wasn’t his thing at all.

“…a little town called Devil’s Kettle. You probably haven’t heard of it.” You shrugged, determined to show him that small talk absolutely was your thing. “I like Hawkins a lot more.”

Rather than go along with you, Billy rolled his eyes.

He actually rolled his eyes.

At you.

A demon.

You were a little taken aback, to say the least. Your natural, passive charm was enough to keep any human nice and quiet and complacent until it was time to turn it off and enjoy their terror. So why did Billy have such an attitude with you still?

“You don’t have to flatter me. There’s nothing good about this shit hole.” He said. “Well…‘Cept you, of course.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly. Alright, then. This guy had an attitude, but it was nothing you couldn’t handle. He still smelled and looked delicious, and you had a few more days to figure him out before you needed to feed again. Ever since that ritual left you this way, you’d found yourself enjoying playing with your food…and Billy was no exception.

“Thank you so much for your help,” you said, laying it on thick as you stopped next to your locker.

Your hand found its way to his chest, a move that always had boys rolling over for you. Billy looked down at it and smirked, an absolutely beautiful sight, before his eyes trailed back up to yours.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Anytime, princess.” He said, his voice smooth, its timbre sending a rush straight down between your thighs.

And then, he was gone, melting back into the crowded hallway, leaving alone to figure out what the hell just happened.

———————

“What the hell is she doing?” Carol asked haughtily.

Vicky wrinkled her nose. “Walking with Billy to his car.”

Carol let out a disgusted sound and turned away, determined not to show her jealousy. You’d only been in Hawkins for what, one day? Twenty four hours, at most? And Billy Hargrove was already giving you a ride home?

Ridiculous.

Tommy H just smirked. “Nice one, Hargrove!” He called out as he leaned against his car.

Carol glared at him.

You heard his shout and turned to look toward its source. You were still confused about Billy…but that moron looked like he might be a good snack in a day or two.

You gave him a wink, watching as his girlfriend fumed next to him.

“You’ve got nice friends.” You commented as Billy opened the passenger door and waited for you to sit down.

“…yeah. Nice.” He snorted, slamming it closed before walking around to his side and getting in.

“How long have you been in Hawkins?” You asked, studying your nails as the Camaro roared to life.

Okay, so you liked his car. Maybe you could steal it after you ate him…? No, that would be way too obvious in a town like this. Everybody would know you had something to do with his disappearance.

Damn.

“Six months. Somethin’ like that.” He said absentmindedly as he backed out of his space. “Why’s that matter, princess?”

You shrugged. “You don’t look like everybody else here.”

You don’t smell like everybody else here.

He grinned in what might have been triumph. “That’s a fucking relief.”

“You definitely don’t look like a local...” you purred, your fingers gliding up his arm. You gave his bicep a squeeze through his jacket and saw him lick his lips from the corner of your eye, and you knew you were getting somewhere.

Okay. This was okay. You could totally have some fun with him, shove all those weird feelings aside, and then do your thing and devour his innards like a good little demon. No more second guessing yourself, though. Time to be a big, confident succubus.

“Can we go somewhere...private, handsome?” you asked, voice dripping with that golden honey as you leaned against him.

“Your place or mine, sweetheart?” he grinned down at you.

“...Yours.” you decided. Today was about having fun and celebrating your move. Next time, you’d take him back to your new house and tear him to shreds.

For sure you would.

For real.

Never mind how genuinely cute you found him. You were gonna wreck this guy, in more ways than one.

You could tell that Billy was excited at the prospect of getting laid. You could smell it rolling off of him in waves, and for you, those pheromones were like a drug. They made you feel happy and floaty, your chest buzzing as he squeezed your thigh and put the pedal to the metal.

“You always drive like this?” you asked, laughing loudly over the sound of the radio and the wind whipping through the open windows.

Billy glanced over to see you smiling, and he grinned. “You like it, sweetheart?”

“I love it!” you replied without thinking about your cool demon persona for once.

Billy’s grin just grew wider and he floored it, tearing down the quiet highway towards his place.

His house was small and simple, decorated conservatively in a way that told you his folks weren’t very much fun. He didn’t give you much time to take it all in, though, quickly ushering you down the hall and into his room before you could make yourself at home.

“You in a rush?” you quipped.

“Can you blame me for being eager?” he smirked as he shut the door.

No. You really couldn’t.

Being alone in a room with Billy Hargrove felt special. So many girls at Hawkins High would probably kill for the chance to cozy up with him like this, and yet there you were, on your very first day in town, climbing on top of him like you owned his soul.

Wait...was that an option? Could you do that? It might be a nicer option than eating him at this point, because honestly...you were starting to think you should keep him around for a little longer than originally planned. Like, for real…it took a lot to satisfy a demon like yourself, and somehow, Billy Hargrove was managing to do it.

Maybe it was because in bed, he absolutely dripped sin and sex appeal. His hands? Killer. His dick? Perfect. His mouth?

Godly.

“F-fuck!” You gasped, mouth agape, eyes wide as you gripped his hair and pulled hard.

He grunted against you, looking up from his place between your thighs. Fuck, he was glad you wore a skirt, because the second he got you in his room, he was tossing you down on his bed and diving right in. If he had to fuck around with jeans or some bullshit like that, he’d have been seriously pissed off.

Instead, all he had to do was grab your hips, pull your panties to the side, and let your moans serenade him as he showed you how fucking good he was with his tongue.

Normally, he’d be the one guiding your head right now, not the other way around. He’d be quick and demanding, get his kicks, make you finish with his fingers or something, and then get outta there. That’s what he always did with girls, and it was always fast and fun. Hollow, in a way, but fun. With you, though…with you, he was determined to savor everything, because you tasted delicious in a way he’d never experienced before, and he couldn’t get enough.

“Billy…” you moaned, grinding your hips against his face as you felt yourself getting close again. Perks of being a demon, you guessed…lots and lots of orgasms.

He was lapping it all up like it was ambrosia, eyes trained on you obediently.

He had really, really beautiful eyes, and as you gazed into them, you came again.

“O-okay,” you huffed, thighs shaking as you yanked his head back. “That’s enough.”

You felt him resist, trying to get one last taste, but you were stronger than you looked.

And you also had an appetite that needed to be sated.

“Your turn, big boy,” you purred, switching your positions.

Billy was more than happy to recline and watch as you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans. As much as he wanted you to sit on his face for a few hours, he was eager to find out if the rest of you was just as sweet.

You were just happy to see that his dick matched the rest of him.

There was no point in trying to hide your glee as you freed him from the confines of his tight jeans, and you immediately wrapped a hand around his shaft and your lips around his head. He shuddered at the feeling of your mouth on him, a hand coming to rest on the back of your head as he made a move to guide you. You didn’t need him to, but you let him pretend he had some semblance of control as you bobbed up and down, and honestly? It was pretty cute that he thought he was in charge.

His cock slipped deeper into your throat, until your nose was brushing his pelvis. You were surrounded by his scent, that natural, musky smell and—cologne? Did he put cologne down there? Yeah, that was kinda cute—and it made you hungrier.

When you leaned back, he tried to follow you, searching for that warmth again…but when you pushed him down against his own mattress and sank down onto his cock, his eyes widened.

“No rubber?” He asked.

You just smiled and leaned down, hands on his chest as you licked the side of his face. “Don’t worry about it, baby.”

Fuck, you were perfect.

And you were weirdly warm.

“Fuck, baby…” he groaned, hands squeezing your ass as you rode him.

You felt fucking perfect, and he knew he was gonna have to come back for seconds, something he almost never did in Hawkins.

Because Billy Hargrove was hooked on you…and when you watched his face as he came, you realized you were a little hooked on him, too.

Shit.

He was too cute to eat.

“So.” He said as you rolled to the side, catching your breath. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?” You asked, eyes flicking toward him.

He lit a cigarette. “There’s somethin’ up with you, babe. Knew it from the second we talked this morning.”

You floundered, staring at him. What did he mean? Guys never guessed that you were anything other than hot. Nobody had ever suspected that there was something supernatural about you, not even your best friends back in Devil’s Kettle.

“I don’t normally do this whole…talking thing.” Billy said. “But you’ve got me intrigued, princess. So what’s the deal?”

“I have no idea what you’re—“

“Cut the shit,” he growled, surprising you again with how easily he fought through your natural defenses. “You’re hiding something. I can tell.”

“Did you fuck me just to grill me?” You asked in irritation.

“Nah. That was just a bonus.” He grinned, reaching down to brush his fingers over your swollen clit. When you immediately flinched, he laughed. “You sure are sensitive, babe…”

You rolled your eyes and sat up. “I don’t know why you think something’s up, but I don’t appreciate it, Hargrove.”

He raised his lip in a sneer. “Fine. Don’t tell me. But I’ll figure you out eventually, sweetheart.”

You just narrowed your eyes.

——————

Billy’s suspicions weren’t enough to keep you from hanging around him. You liked the resident bad boy, even though his friends were annoying, and he seemed to enjoy keeping and arm slung around your shoulders in public. For a few days, everything was fine…until you felt yourself starting to fade, and you knew it was time for a snack.

It was easy enough to pick a boy out of the crowd, some senior whose name you didn’t bother to learn. When Billy was busy with sports, you chose your victim and whispered in his ear, leading him out of the building, across the parking lot, and into the woods. He thought he was about to get lucky; after all, rumors had begun flying about how easy you were, after everybody saw Billy Hargrove giving you a ride on your very first day in town. This guy probably thought he was about to get a once in a lifetime opportunity with the hottest girl in town.

“Don’t count on it,” you grinned dangerously before shoving him back against a tree trunk.

You watched his expression change from confusion to horror as your jaw unhinged and your teeth elongated, ready to sink into his flesh and tear him apart. As soon as you made contact, you flew into a frenzy, ripping his rib cage open with your hands and digging in.

Delicious, as always.

As you tore chunks out of his chest cavity, you thought about Billy. You imagined the feeling of his hands on you, squeezing your thighs and your hips…you could picture his face looking down at you, cheeks flushed and lips parted, and those gorgeous blue eyes…

Your fantasy was interrupted by a sudden pain in your torso, and when you looked down, you saw that your victim had managed to shove a huge, sharp tree branch straight through you.

“Ouch.” You said.

You coughed up some blood.

“That’s what I get for being distracted at dinner, huh?”

You heard the boy gasping, desperately clinging to life even with his organs out on display. Well, this wasn’t really how you thought this would go…and shit, it was really starting to hurt.

With one last chomp that finally silenced your victim, you let his body fall to the ground and stumbled back. You were in worse shape than you thought, and your little house out in the woods was pretty fucking far away. You needed somewhere safe to go in the meantime, somewhere you could curl up and wait for your body to heal itself.

By the time you limped up to Billy’s window, night had fallen…but his light was still on, and with any luck, he was alone and free of other girls. You really didn’t have it in you to tear someone else apart, not while you were in this state. You shuffled up to the window sill, gripping it with bloody hands and thumping against it weakly.

Billy immediately stiffened.

He was fresh out of the shower, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. He had been considering jerking off to the thought of you before bed, but now, the sound of something outside had him on high alert. He’d already been stressed thanks to his father yelling at the dinner table earlier, and the last thing he needed was some weird bullshit to deal with.

Unfortunately, when he opened his window, that’s exactly what he got.

“What--the fuck--” he stammered, eyes wide as you tumbled in and landed in a bloody heap on his floor.

“H-hey,” you panted, chest heaving with effort as you pulled yourself into a more comfortable position.

Billy just stared.

“I--I know this looks crazy,” you said, grunting in pain when you managed to sit up against his bed. “I just need to rest here--”

“What are you?” he interrupted.

“I don’t know what you--”

“I told you to cut the shit the other day.” he growled. “Now I really fucking mean it, princess.”

You looked up at him, still breathing hard. “...You have to swear not to freak out.”

“Try me.”

“So...back in Devil’s Kettle, there’s this weird waterfall. Some guys offered me up to Satan on a platter, I guess, and then tossed me down...only their ritual didn’t work. And now I’m...like this.” you gestured to yourself.

Billy was taking things surprisingly well. “Like what?”

“Like...a demon.”

You watched his face closely, waiting for the inevitable. Waiting for the panic.

It didn’t come, though. Honestly, Billy didn’t even know why he wasn’t totally losing it, especially given the state you were in--covered in blood, a huge wound in the middle of your stomach--but as he sat down across from you, he barely felt anxious.

“So...what’s with the blood?” he asked, reaching for a smoke.

“...Okay, now you really can’t freak out.”

“Fine, sweetheart.”

“I just...had dinner, and dinner...fought back.”

He raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t press further...so you spared him the details, lest he end up having a weaker stomach than he pretended to. “I just need a couple hours to heal and then I’ll be gone. Swear.”

“Neil and Susan are still gone. Max is in bed.” he said as he calmly lit a cigarette. “Go shower before you get that shit all over my stuff.”

You blinked. “You’re really not...weirded out by all this?”

“I told you I knew something was up with you.” he smirked. “Didn’t know it was this weird, but I still fucking knew.”

You let out a breathy little laugh at that and tried to stand. When your knees buckled, Billy caught you with one arm, choosing to haul you to the bathroom himself. And then, he joined you, because even though it was probably the strangest situation he’d ever been in, you were still you, and you were still hot, an even if you were a demon, you were kinda his demon now...and he wasn’t gonna pass up the chance to shower with you.

#billy hargrove #Billy Hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x demon!reader #demon!reader #jennifer's body #stranger things

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honeybeehimbo · 15 days

Text

looking for new partners for m/f pairing's where i play the male. discord only. i love angst, smut and a little fluff (not too much fluff or it gets uninteresting for me, sorry!) plots under the read more, but open to other ideas too. some fandom ideas also under, hence the tags. like and i will dm you or dm me directly

best friend's older sister

muse a is a vampire/demon hunter, muse b is a monster with a soul/conscious.

summer best friends

emergency contact

older muses reunite

something based off this, cue all the angst

ideas with my own muses

drew (kyle allen fc), a musician, reunites with the girl his songs are all about. can be another artist or someone outside the musician lifestyle.

chase (dylan minette fc), your typical geek boy, is hooking up with the popular girl, who wants to keep it a secret. but chase is catching feelings

rish (rahul kohli fc), er doctor/chief resident, your muse and rish dated in their 20s, but eventually broke up because they never saw each other because of rish's commitment to his work and inability to make time for the relationship. your muse suddenly pops up during the graveyard shift at the er with a twisted ankle (or something else!) rish is the doctor in charge and they catch up and old feelings resurface.

elias (andrew garfield fc), a magnificent fine artist needs a nude model, which is your muse, tensions arise and it's clear that they both want each other. but elias has commitment issues. (this one is really bare bones, but im open to adding details, maybe making it more forbidden, affair? age gap? im open to hearing ideas)

fandom wants

canon x canon only! i will not do canon x oc

marvel: peter parker (andrew garfield or tom holland) against any other female marvel character from any "universe"

glee: finn hudson against any female glee character, might also be willing to do crossover with other shows in the same realm.

ER: i will play pretty much any of the guys from the show er against any of the female ones.

one tree hill: jake/peyton, brooke/lucas, rachel/any male, mia/any male, alex/any male, i will not do any of the canon pairings that actually end up together, since i feel like that story has already been told.

sex education: any girl/otis

#discord 1x1 #1x1 rp #indie smut rp #fandom rp #glee rp #one tree hill rp #er rp #marvel rp #mcu rp #spider man rp #sex education rp

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dadsbongos · 2 years

Text

a warm body

Stranger Things x Horror Movie Collection

American Psycho / Halloween / Scream / Friday the 13th / Fear Street / Jennifer’s Body

13.7K words

warnings - sexual allusions lol!, descriptions of wounds/violence (blood n gore n such), bimbo reader bimbo reader <3, jennifer’s body au

summary - You drag Robin to The Hideout in hopes of fulfilling your fantasy of hooking up with a boy in a band. Hijinks ensue and suddenly you’re a succubus that only your bestest friend can satiate.

“Hey, we’ve gotta go to The Hideout tonight.”

“Ew,” Robin gags, “Enough of Munson, okay? I’m sick of going to their gigs.”

“It’ll be fun,” you pout and lean your head against the locker next to Robin’s, “besides, there’s a new band showing up today. Heard it straight from Gareth in the lunch line - Bombed Grave, or some shit. Should be good.”

“Oh my God,” Robin shakes her head, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, “You need to get over this fantasy of being a groupie, it’ll get you killed.”

“It will not get me killed, it’s just a one-time thing, you know?” you fiddle with one of the rings Robin had gifted you a couple of years back, “Some stupid boy in a stupid band and me, just once. It’d be fun. And then it’s over.”

You shrug like it’s simple - like you’re talking about a piercing.

“Well, as long as I’m here - no stupid boy from a shitty band is getting anywhere near you,” Robin grins sardonically.

“Hey,” you stick out your bottom lip, elbowing Robin in the side, “I’m a big girl now, I can take care of myself, Rob,” then just to tease, you throw out, “Mom.”

“Don’t call me ‘Mom’,” she groans.

“Then don’t act like I need a savior,” you look away, immediately finding the gaggle of math club members staring at you.

Robin watches as you wave and giggle and they nervously return the gesture.

Robin hates to call you an airhead, but sometimes you didn’t think things through. Going to The Hideout every Tuesday in an effort to sleep with a band member, she suspected, was one of them.

“Fine, okay,” Robin doesn’t know why she puts up a fight anymore, she always gives in. Perhaps it’s just the illusion of debate - the back-and-forth - that she likes, “I’ll go. And I won’t be your little savior.”

“Okay, then!” you perk up, reaching into the collar of your cheer uniform and pulling out your half of a BFF magnet necklace.

It was your part of a heart-shaped strawberry charm. You held it out proudly and Robin, despite how much she’d pretend to hate it, couldn’t help but pull out her own half. She connects your pieces and watches you light up at the way they click.

“I’ll drive you home to drop off your shit and change,” you pause, narrowing your lashes, “And I need to borrow a shirt,” she raises a brow and you just shrug, “People dig the short cheer skirt, but the uniform top makes it a little too real.”

“Gross,” Robin shuts her locker as the minute bell shrills.

“Uber,” you bump her shoulder with yours, “‘kay, I gotta go. See ya!”

“See you later!” she sighs once you’ve left.

What shirt could she possibly lend you that you didn’t already steal?

Every cute shirt - or article of clothing period - she owned was most likely already stashed in your closet. Not that Robin necessarily minded, it isn’t like she wore those clothes very often (or at all) anyway.

Robin has no fucking clue how you and her stayed friends after elementary school. She was adopted by the Hawkins’ middle school band and you became one of their beloved cheerleaders. Your rise to popularity was swift and unmatched by even King Steve himself and even now, you haven’t fallen from your pedestal.

She assumes it’s because you, unlike most other popular kids, are actually really nice. Chrissy Cunningham is your cheer co-captain and if it weren’t for Robin, you two would be the most iconic duo since Sonny Crockett and Ricardo Tubbs.

Now, as you’re both seniors, Robin remains a band geek, and you queen of Hawkins High (if not all of Hawkins itself), and you two are still tied at the hip.

Seriously, how Robin is your little friend after X amount of years, is an absolute cold case to her, but she’s not about to give it up.

So, Robin just bites her tongue and goes to her Spanish 3-4.

“No, no, no, no,” you pause your cycling through clothes and Robin looks up from her peeling black nail polish, your head is tilted and you pull out whatever has caught your eye, “When’d you get this?”

Robin’s cheeks flush and she huffs, reaching out to rip the offending sweater from your hands, “Oh my God, just put it down!”

“No!” you whine, clutching the pink fabric to your chest, “It’s adorable. I like it.”

You hold the sweater up. Robin usually buys her clothes in bigger sizes than what she actually is, that’s why you like borrowing her clothes - it’s rare to find something of hers that won’t fit you too.

It was something you’d have to work with - just a plain pink sweater with red hearts. And it’s not like it’d go with your cheer skirt.

You throw the garment over one shoulder and move to where Robin stored the skirts she doesn’t wear anymore.

“See, this always happens,” Robin rolls her eyes, all in good fun, and leans back on her elbows, “‘Just a shirt,’” she mocks, “You’re a little thief.”

“Whatever,” you chuckle and pull out a short, black skirt, “As if you were gonna wear these.”

“It’s the principal of the matter,” Robin stands, sighing loudly and draping her arms around your shoulders.

“Okay, turn so I can change,” when she doesn’t move, you shrug, “Fine. Don’t.”

It wouldn’t be the first time Robin has ever seen you change, but it never fails to make her squawk and cover her eyes before giving up. You’d be lying if you said that her watching you change never sent a spark through you.

“What’s even your plan?” Robin tilts her head, trying her absolute damndest to keep her eyes above your collarbones, “Hook up with who? The guitarist or the singer? And then what? Just go after a painter?”

“I dunno,” you grin, “Maybe I’ll keep chasing bands. Maybe it isn’t a regular guy I want, but Eddie Munson, and now I’m just trying to fill the void,” Robin wretches dramatically, “Okay, okay. I’m kidding.”

Eddie’s nice. You don’t have a reason to dislike him, you just didn’t think he was your type beyond a quick fantasy. Not that you spend all day thinking about how he isn’t your type, mainly because if you do that then you have to confront what - or rather, who - is your type.

“What about after, though? Are you still gonna drag me around so you can screw with guys who don’t deserve you?”

“Haven’t thought much about it,” you move to look yourself over in Robin’s full body mirror, “Best friend approval?”

Robin hums as if thinking, eyes narrowing and lips pressing thinly before she ultimately nods, “Best friend approves.”

“Yay,” you cheer under your breath, grabbing your purse from her vanity and skipping over to her bedroom door, “Ready?”

She looks around as if there’s anything of importance that she could possibly be leaving behind. Everything she needs is already at the door, ready to flutter out and right into the arms of some guitarist. Or vocalist. Anyone but the drummer.

“Maybe the drummer,” you announce to Robin, parking in front of The Hideout.

“How low will you go?” she gasps, scandalized, then giggles when you shoot her a glare, “I’m just saying, bunny, it isn’t that big a deal if you go with the drummer instead of the guitarist. I bet 99% of people won’t even know who you’re talking about if you tell them who you’re with. Just saying.”

“You know what I think?”

The both of you climb out of your car and Robin tilts her head, watching as you wait to hear your doors lock.

“Hm?”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to get out there.”

Robin scoffs and you bounce up to the door, lugging it open for Robin to enter the dingy, dim, dank bar.

You see Eddie immediately and Robin hates to say how jealous it makes her when you squeal and throw yourself on him with a giggly, “hi, Eds!”

“Hey, bubble-brain,” his eyes flick to Robin, “Someone’s outta their element.”

“Huh?” you rear back and nod, “Oh! Yeah.”

Robin tries smiling at Eddie, but it comes out strained, her hands packed in her pockets and clenching tightly. Her rings indent her skin and she can feel her teeth digging into the thin stretch of skin inside her cheek.

“Hey,” you reach into her coat pocket and take her hand, “if you really don’t wanna be here, we can go.”

She considers it.

Honestly? Honestly - she’d rather be back at her house, with you. Eating ice cream with bad romcoms stuffed full of cliches she makes fun of but always cries to at the end. With you, though. It’s only worth it if it’s with you.

“I’m fine,” she looks over at the bar, then past your shoulder, “You go look for your boy toy,” her brows shoot up at Eddie, “Munson, wanna help a girl out?”

“I’d be honored,” he bows and you peck Robin’s cheek appreciatively before bounding further into the bar. Eddie is observant - it’s one of the things Robin hates most about him - and he pulls out a fake ID while staring right at her.

The bartender knows Eddie - hell, everyone in town knows Eddie - and she knows that he’s only twenty. But hey, then again, he’s twenty and it isn’t like she’s being pressed to card the people they serve anyway. Because nobody even gives a fuck.

“What’s your damage, dingus?” Robin can hear how tired she sounds but there’s no room for her to try and pretend she’s anything else, “Staring’s rude.”

Eddie orders before looking down at Robin, “I think you should get it over with and just take her home.”

“You’re crazy!” she swats his shoulder, “Also, shut up.”

Eddie finding out Robin is a lesbian was a massive accident. She didn’t know he was behind her and Steve during Ferris Bueller and kept whispering about how hot Ally Sheedy was. It was way after hours at Starcourt, how was she supposed to know anyone else was there?

But he kept her secret.

“I’m just saying,” Eddie hands over a glass ripe with condensation, “You’re gonna watch her flirt her cute little sweater off with some douche, and then you’re gonna whine and ask me to drive you home. ‘Cuz if you go with her, she’s gonna drop you off and you’ll have to walk through the door alone knowing the one you love is about to get her shit rocked.”

Robin stares down at the cocktail. If she was a little smarter, she would’ve asked what it was before taking it. It’s clear, if a little auburn. Just a tad.

She doesn’t even know what to say, “It’s my sweater. She’s ‘borrowing’ it.”

Eddie coos, pouts, and pats her head, “Poor thing. You’re so fucked.”

Robin takes a cautious sip of the cocktail and her face immediately screws up, she gags and holds the glass away as Eddie laughs, “Dude, what the hell is this?”

“Moscow mule,” he clinks his glass to hers, “Vodka. Ginger. Lime. Enjoy and don’t drink it too fast.”

“Won’t be an issue!” she huffs, watching his stupid vest’s stupid Dio back design disappear into the crowd, “Atthay assholeyay.”

She takes another sip, somehow more careful than last time, and that’s when she sees you. You’re talking up the lead singer of the other band and he’s eating it up because who wouldn’t?

You’re sweet and, yeah, simple, but you’re more than that. You’re not just a best friend, you’re her one. Her person. The Nancy to her Margaret. The burger to her fries. The Shaggy to her Scooby. You two are Wham! You stay up until midnight just to call and wish her a happy birthday. She holds back your hair and helps you out of your heels when you go overboard at your popular friends’ lame parties. You feed each other soup when the other is sick.

You try really hard. All the time. Doesn’t matter what it is. School, cheer, dressing, befriending, shopping, whatever it may be - you try like someone will die if you fail. It’s intense and admirable to her at the same time.

And right now, you’re trying really hard to get the singer to like you. Robin would bet her entire college fund that it’s working, too.

So she stays out of your way and pretends that seeing that stupid guy’s hands pet over her sweater on your body doesn’t make her silently languish.

This time, her drag of Moscow mule is longer. Stronger. And she thinks that somewhere in the back of her head, or perhaps the back of the bar, Eddie is laughing.

“They’re not good,” Robin mutters as soon as you’re back at her side.

You wrap an arm around hers, yanking her shoulder into your chest, “Yeah…” you sigh, “but he’ll do. Not like he’s gonna be my boyfriend after this or anything, so no need to pretend.”

Robin has hated every single one of your boyfriends.

“You, uh,” she swallows the marble in her throat, “you giving him a ride?”

You giggle and she groans, “Jeez, Rob, talk about forward.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she tosses her head back and when you just keep laughing, it’s almost like things are how they should be.

Then your cheek presses to hers and you nod, “You need a ride home?”

“No,” she clenches her eyes shut, “Munson said he’d give me one.”

“Aw, he’s such a sweetheart,” you pull away, one hand wrapping around hers, “Call me if you need anything, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Robin watches you reapply her favorite gloss that you own, “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“Impossible,” you search the crowd and wave over your beau for the night, “Seriously, though. I’m a ring away. Maybe just gimme an hour or two before you have an emergency.”

“Sure,” Robin knows she’s being curt, but it’s not like she can help it. She can, but she shouldn’t. If she talks in longer sentences then everything will come loose and all her secrets will be like a rippling wound.

Eddie hangs an arm over Robin’s shoulders and laughs in her ear, “Hmm, did I get it word for word? Or did I get it word for word? I need to be reminded.”

“Shut up and get me another, Munson,” Robin shoves her glass into his chest.

To her, boys were ugly, red, agitated zits (except maybe Steve, who was a smaller, healing zit). To you, they were momentary fun when Hawkins felt a little dry. If she wasn’t so desperately wishing she could be the boy you give a ride, then maybe she’d be happy for you.

You wait for your car’s heater to thaw at Hawkins’ chilled night air before pulling away from the bar, “Your place or mine?”

“Actually,” the singer, Robbie he’d told you, lays a hand on your thigh. Toothy grin and pink lips on display, “there’s this cute little place in the woods. Think you’d like it.”

Robin didn’t like drinking. It gave her a headache and made her stink. Made her have to sneak back into her room just to avoid her parents finding out. Made her mind somehow less aware of her words.

So she laid in bed - face down in sunset sheets and stripped to her shirt and underwear - with one hand on the bedside table phone. Her fingers were wound tight around the receiver in a wavering display of determination. She wants to call you.

Make sure you got home safe. Make sure that idiot didn’t hurt you. Make sure you’d sleep well.

But you’re probably busy, so she also wants to leave it be.

Her fingers don’t move though, and when the sheets grow too hot with her breath being shot back in her face, she angles her head to the side. Her hair falls into her eyes and over her cheeks; she can’t be bothered to fix any of it, so it remains.

Fuck it.

You said to call, right? You want her to be able to call, right? Yeah, of course, you do. Robin knows you well, and she knows you don’t say things you don’t mean.

So she picks up the receiver and her fingers fly about the numbers in muscle memory. Turning onto her back, Robin blinks up at the ceiling as the phone rings.

A few streets down, your bedroom window is still open from when you forgot to close it before school. Inside your bedroom is an egg-shell white nightstand on the side of your bed not pressed to a wall. On the nightstand is a bubblegum pink phone gifted to you by your parents. It rings once. Twice. Three times.

Robin blows a stray hair from where it’d tangled into her lashes.

Four times.

The line beeps and your family’s voicemail message plays.

She slams the receiver down and picks it back up. You usually don’t let the phone ring more than twice - even if you don’t want to take a call; you have the balls to either pick up and say so or simply pick up the phone and immediately hang up. So she dials your number again and sighs.

A handful of blocks away, there’s a forest that hides Lover’s Lake. A few miles from Lover’s Lake is Skull Rock. Against the side of Skull Rock is a young girl - you, in a torn pink sweater that wasn’t even yours - bound and screaming through a gag. You watch, wide-eyed and seconds away from pissing yourself, as Robbie unsheathes a knife, his drummer readies a printed prayer to Satan.

In your bedroom, a pretty pink phone sends its unlucky caller right back to voicemail.

Robin groans, scratching at her stomach, and lets the receiver tumble back into place.

She debates calling again. You probably aren’t even home.

You probably aren’t even home.

The thought makes her turn back onto her stomach and groan louder into her pillow.

The night is dark and cold. Robin hates the cold. It reminds her of the dead - of how her Aunt Shauna looked so pale and plastic in her casket. Young Robin made the mistake of touching Aunt Shauna’s hand and now teenage Robin has to deal with the consequences.

It’s agony.

She awakes with a shiver and looks to where her peachy curtains are dancing gently in the wind from an open window. Of which, she was sure she shut.

Robin rises from bed and yawns, one hand on the window frame and the other rubbing at her drool-crusted cheek. Just as she goes to shut the window, she sees it - right on the ledge of the frame are two big bloody handprints.

That’s when she wakes up a little more - realizes that her bedroom door was open when it’s normally shut. She hears it then, too, the rustling in her kitchen downstairs.

Someone’s inside.

Robin scurries to her closet and pulls out the bat full of nails that Steve insisted she keep for him. Her bare feet touch cold wood and her legs shake as she makes her way to the kitchen. The lighting there is limited to the bulb inside the fridge.

There’s more rustling. Things unwrapping and ripping open. Tupperware lids thrown across the tile and the sounds of something - an animal - eating straight out of the containers.

She wants to run, but her parents are upstairs and even if they don’t get along at the best of times, she’s not going to let them be attacked by… by…

There’s a sharp gasp of pain and her resolve is wavering.

Then the thing comes up, and it casts a human shadow on the wall opposite the fridge. A feminine silhouette dances across the ugly pistachio paint.

A croak. A cough. A call.

“Rob…in?”

It’s broken and pained and inhuman, but it’s your voice. Undoubtedly.

Robin’s bat clatters to the ground, just narrowly missing her feet and she runs into the kitchen.

“Holy shit,” she clasps her hands over her mouth, eyes wide at the sight of you.

You’re fully leaning against the counter, arms limp at your side and head slid against the side of the fridge. You look like hell.

You swallow, sputter, and blink at her miserably, “Robin.”

“What…” her eyes roam - sweater torn open down the middle and stomach gaping with blood and prickled flesh, shoes missing, socks ripped and stained with dirt and blood, skirt weathered to threads at the end and thighs slashed. She can’t look you in the eye, “What the fuck happened to you?”

She flies forward, hands cradling your face. She can feel her heart in her stomach and throat simultaneously.

You’re so out of it, your eyes don’t even seem to be seeing her. They stare straight through, like she’s not even there.

You smile and that’s when she sees the blood staining your teeth, it spills out between your split lips and you giggle when she gasps.

“Oh my God,” she backs away, head on a swivel to find the paper towels, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God- “

You wrap your arms around her waist, chin leaning on her shoulder and temple pressing to her cheek, “Robin…”

“Yeah,” Robin extends her arm, fingertips just brushing the paper towels, “I’m Robin - and I’m gonna get you cleaned up. Then we’re going straight to the hospital,” she stops, “Or should we go to the hospital now? We should go to the hospital now.”

“Uh-uh,” you tut, squeezing her tighter, your tone drops a little lower - how it does when you flirt, “Are you scared?”

“Scared of you?” Robin tries worming from your grasp but you’re holding too tightly, “I’m not- I could never. But we need to go, right now. You’re really hurt and I can feel you bleeding on me and you’re- “

“Good,” you coo and stumble back. There’s a rumble, you belch, and then your jaw drops open - black mucus-tar amalgamation spills out. It spots and bubbles and Robin throws herself backward - spine cracking against the doorway. Her hands clamp over her mouth to muffle the scream that rips her throat sore.

Her eyes squeeze shut and she slides down to her ass, hands covering her ears. There are tears and her chest burns and she can’t breathe. The air is too thick and she squeezes into herself, as if it’d make her physically disappear.

She starts rocking. It’s all she can do.

This is a nightmare. A nightmare. A horrible fucking dream.

When she opens her eyes, everything is the same. The fridge door is tossed wide, there’s blood smeared on her counters and floor, and the thick muck you tossed up is spreading across her floor.

But you’re missing.

Bloody footprints lead from the fridge to the where kitchen meets hallway - then vanish. Her bat is gone, too.

“What the fuck?” her eyes bubble with tears and she collapses onto her side, legs pulled tight to her chest, “What the fuck?”

The room smells like death. It’s cold. So very freezing cold.

“Hey,” you look tired, books hugged tight to your chest as you approach Robin and Dustin at her locker.

“Hey,” Robin stares. Eyes almost cartoonishly popping from her skull.

She knows what happened was real. She spent hours cleaning and scrubbing and showering. Unless that was all part of the dream.

Jesus, Hawkins was fucked up if that was passing as a mere nightmare now.

Dustin nudges her with his elbow and shakes his head, then turns to you, “Are you… feeling alright?”

“God, no,” you frown and droop into the locker beside Robin’s, “I’m breaking out and I pulled out so much hair in the shower this morning. I thought I was about to go completely bald.”

“Maybe you should go home,” Dustin leans down to see your face when your head hangs, “You really don’t look good.”

“I’m fine, Dusty,” you pat the boy’s shoulder before turning to Robin, “I think I have to cancel tonight, though,” you pout and if it were a normal day, she’d just want to make that dismal expression go away, “Gonna stay in and hope whatever this is passes.”

“Oh, yeah,” Robin looks into her locker and pulls out a random textbook, she slams the door shut and clicks the lock back into place, “No worries, just…” you looked like something from a horror movie last night, “What happened last night? After you left.”

Dustin figures this conversation isn’t for him and wanders off when he spots Eddie in the crowd - wishing you well as he goes.

You shrug and scoot closer, “Normal stuff. I mean, nothing even happened with that guy,” you shouldn’t be lying, but it isn’t like she’d believe the truth, would she? “He figured I was a virgin and when I corrected him, he - like - demanded that I bring him home.”

But you didn’t correct him. Didn’t have the time. Didn’t get the chance.

Now you’re hoping that Robin figures last night was all just a nightmare - and from the look in her eyes, you know she’s teetering on that edge.

She wants to ask, you know that. You know her. If she wasn’t so terrified of speaking last night into reality, then she would. But asking would make it real. Outside of the gates and monsters and girls with telekinesis, Hawkins was normal and there was a certain level of abnormality that a person could take before they snapped.

And you and Robin both knew that this was just outside her limit. So she doesn’t ask and you don’t tell.

Instead, you yawn and shake your head to keep yourself awake, “Anyway, I gotta go to Mr. Peters’ math. See ya later?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, though. Her lip balm tints her lips a soft red and you like the way it looks. She accepts the kiss you press to her cheek, “See you later.”

In the meantime, you catch Sully Vacks outside of your shared first period. You drag him away from the door by the sleeve of his varsity jacket.

He looks at you weirdly and you already know it’s more about your lack of makeup than the fact you’re a living zombie wanting to take him somewhere private. Well, private-ish.

Sully isn’t a nice person. He dated your fellow cheerleader, Stacey Bennett, for a while and you knew firsthand about the explicit polaroid pictures he’d taken of her without her permission. And you knew secondhand how he shared them with the football team.

You can justify this to yourself. To what remains of your conscience.

“Do you have any plans later?” you tilt your head and gently run a finger over his bicep, “If not, I was thinking maybe we could… hang out?”

You put on the show of what boys like and you watch, half there and half out of control, as he dumbly falls into your line.

But you remember how much he hurt Stacey, and you can imagine she isn’t the first (or last) girl he’s hurt. So you decide that you can justify this meal to yourself.

Like a cheat day - he practically doesn’t even count.

“So,” Sully’s brows draw tight as he looks up at Skull Rock, “you bring all the boys here?” then he looks at you, “Or am I special?”

You simper and loop your arms around his neck, “Which do you prefer?”

“I like to think I’m special,” he leans down, nose nudging yours.

You nod slowly, “You’re very special, Sully.”

He practically collapses into your kiss and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t amusing how desperate he was. Your hands settle over his chest, then sink lower, lower, lower until your fingers are grazing under his shirt.

“Is this okay?” you whisper against his lips, watching your work through your lashes.

Sully’s breath stutters before he nods, “More than okay.”

Your nails scrape his stomach, just enough to be there without hurting, “Good.”

Prey should be at ease before they die and prey should die quickly - it’s inhumane otherwise.

And the news spreads as Robin gets out of the double doors after the final school bell rings.

“Did you hear what happened?” Steve is glaring right at Robin, “No, I am not letting you walk home. Get in the damn car.”

“Steve,” Robin sighs, “how’d you even know I needed a ride? You stalking me now?”

He gives her a pointed look and she relents, throwing open the passenger door of his BMW and climbing in.

“I didn’t know you needed a ride but I wanted to make sure,” his brows furrow as he continues to wait outside the school, “Also heard your little girlfriend wasn’t feeling well.”

“She’s not- “ Robin smiles at the thought though and the retort dies under her tongue, “Also, what happened?”

“You didn’t hear?”

“Obviously not, dingus.”

“That varsity kid - Vacks? He…” Steve sounds winded, he worries his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes wide, “His torso was torn open. Literally. Apparently, it looked like something was eating him.”

“Oh my God,” Robin’s hands fly over her mouth, slowly lowering for her to ask, “Do they know what did it?”

“‘What’?” Steve shakes his head, “No. That’s the weirdest part. It wasn’t like a wild animal did because it wasn’t those wounds that killed him,” Robin tilts her head. Steve looks out at the double doors and honks when some of his kids pile out, “Something snapped his neck. He died fuckin’ instantly.”

He puts up a finger to preemptively shush Robin as Dustin leans into the driver-side window.

“What?”

Steve nudges his head toward the backseats, “Get in.”

“No way,” Mike folds his arms, “We have to get Will and go to Hellfire tonight, we can’t just skip it.”

“Eddie will literally kill us,” Lucas tacks on.

“I can name something else that will literally, actually kill you,” Robin pipes up, earning a glare from Steve.

Mike and Lucas come closer to the car and Steve can practically see their hearts in their throats.

“It doesn’t look good,” Steve sets both hands on the wheel, “We don’t know what did it, but… Sully Vacks was more or less turned into a Thanksgiving dinner.”

“‘Don’t know what did it,’” Lucas shakes his head, “Yes, we do! Obviously, we do!”

Steve spots Max in the throng of people exiting Hawkins High, “No. Hopper said it didn’t look like anything we’ve seen, but I don’t want to rule it out entirely,” he drags a hand down his face and briefly wonders when his gray hairs will grow in, “Ask Mad Max if she needs a ride, will you?”

“There won’t be enough room,” Mike points out.

“Then we’ll deal with it,” Steve grumbles, “Someone sits on a lap. I don’t care, you’re not staying late and I’m making sure you little shits get home.”

“I’ll go talk to her,” Lucas backs away, jogging over to where his girlfriend is sitting on the curb, fiddling with her walkman.

“How the hell did you even hear about this?” Dustin stands straight.

Steve rolls his eyes, “I may or may not have gotten a call that I legally can’t admit to,” his gaze darts between the boys to Robin, “From someone that may or may not have been Hopper.”

“Is El with him?” Mike asks, and Steve hates to see the way his face deconstructs in worry.

“Yeah, she’s with him,” Steve waves them off, “Go get Will and come right back. Do you hear me?” when they walk away with no confirmation, he shouts out the window, “I’ll hunt you all down, I’m not kidding!”

“You’re a regular Mama Bear, Steve,” Robin throws her head back against the rest, mind flooding with thoughts of you. More specifically, if your sudden change has anything to do with the possibility of the Upside Down being open again.

“These kids have seen too much,” Steve grips the steering wheel as Lucas approaches his car, “If possible, I want them as out of this whole thing as possible. If it’s even a thing,” his shoulders are tense and his mouth is distastefully dry, “Hopefully it’s just some psycho.”

But he doubts it.

Lucas leans down, one eye closed when the sun hits it dead on, “Max says Eddie can give her a ride. I’ll hitch with them, too, so your car’s not crowded.”

“Alright,” Steve nods, “Radio in when you’re home. Tell Max, too. I want to know you two are safe.”

“Yes, Mom,” Lucas rolls his eyes, waving off Robin as he walks away.

Will, Dustin, and Mike come upon the BMW. Will shakes his head vehemently, his hand brushes the back of his neck and he continues shaking his head.

Robin takes note of how at ease Will’s body is. As if everything, aside from this new paranoia, was totally fine.

Maybe this isn’t the work of the Upside Down. Which would usually be good - great, even - but it would raise more questions than it answered.

Who slaughtered Sully? Why would they do it? Why were you so suddenly ill? And what the fuck kind of dream did Robin have last night?

The Upside Down was officially ruled out as an option to the spectacle of violence when neither Eleven nor Will felt that it was open. Things were… safe.

You’re just glad Robin excused you from the meeting, on account of you being “sick”, before you could even hear about it. You don’t know how long and how hard you can lie, but you don’t plan on testing it out.

You give it a couple days before you return to Robin’s side at school.

And a good sum of weeks before forcing the whole thing out of your head.

Books hugged to your chest and preppy little cheer uniform on in eager wait for the pep rally and game later, you bounce up to Robin and slap a hand on her shoulder, “Boo!”

She gasps and jumps and glares when she realizes it’s only you, “You’re evil.”

“You’re just easy to scare,” you move and lean against the locker next to hers, “So…”

“So…?” she shuffles a couple books around, then flips down the cover to a mirror plastered on her locker door, peering into the glass.

“Prom is coming up,” you lean in close, grinning as she flounders for lipstick.

“Yeah, in two weeks,” she shrugs, “I know your schedule of tryouts for people to be your date is usually packed, but I am not so lucky.”

You roll your eyes and pull a garnet red lipstick from your bag, handing it to her over her shoulder, “I can only go with the people the general population would approve of, so that sucks.”

It was true, you couldn’t bring a girl to prom in the way Robin couldn’t. Unless it was as friends. But everyone knew that if you brought someone to prom as a friend, then you couldn’t dance the way you would want to dance with your date.

Except Robin, but that was more cowardice to confess than anything else.

“We could just go together?” you watch her apply your lipstick and you can hardly find it in yourself to tear your eyes away.

“Nah,” she sighs and caps the tube, “I don’t wanna screw up your chances of being prom queen.”

“Aw, don’t say that,” you accept the lipstick she holds out and replace it in your bag, “You wouldn’t mess up my chances. And it’s not like prom queen is that big a deal to me, you of all people should know that.”

“But this is our senior prom, if you didn’t win then I know you’d be bummed,” Robin shuts her locker and leans back against it. Her face dangles in front of yours like a carrot on a stick, “I might just make Steve bring me.”

“Ew,” your head thunks back on the metal, “I have no idea who I’m going with. All the boys here suck.”

“Are you just realizing?”

You shove her shoulder and huff while she laughs, “As true as that is, I can’t have my judgment mocked.”

“Oh, of course,” she shakes her head, “I’m so sorry, your highness.”

“I forgive you.”

Robin mocks a curtsy and swings her bag over her shoulder.

Things between you and Robin are different. You feel like she knows and she feels like you should know.

Over the same night, with two perspectives, you two are bound into different corners of the same room.

You want to tell her. You want help, you’re tired of fighting whatever it is inside you that tells you to feed. But you don’t want to drag anybody else into this - both for their safety, and yours. If you assume wrong, and there’s no way to help this curse, then you’re already dead.

Robin wants to tell you about her terrifying dream. Or at least, she’s decided it was a dream. She feels like you have a right to know, but you don’t. And also, what a peculiar thing it would be - to tell you about it. You weren’t even acting like yourself, it’d be childish to hold it against you. It is childish to hold it against you.

But there’s a pit in her gut no matter how badly she tries to shake it off.

“Wanna watch a movie together later?” but you’re so sweet and she adores you so much.

“Uh, sure, yeah,” Robin looks up at the ceiling as if it would tell her what’s in stock at Family Video, “Anything specific?”

You hum as you think and she’s always found that adorable about you, “Something cute. I don’t wanna think too hard after what happened.”

“I got you,” she promises, “I’ll get a great movie. No thinking required.”

“Awesome,” you stop outside Mr. Peters’ room, “Alright, I’ll see you at lunch, right?”

“Definitely,” she punches your shoulder, “as long as you remember where the band table is.”

“I remember, I remember,” you swat her hand away and set a hand on the doorknob, “See ya!”

Robin nods dumbly, grinning lovestruck as she waves, “See you later.”

Fifth hour is a mixed bundle.

On one hand, your lab partner is Robin! That’s exciting. On the other, your teacher is Mr. Gordon Vacks. Sully’s father. That’s exhausting.

You wonder, though, if he’d be pressing people to bring justice if he knew what his son was doing with explicit polaroids he took and showed without permission.

Would he even care?

Probably not.

You discovered at a young age that most fathers don’t care what their sons do as long as they can brag to their friends how smart or strong or funny he is.

It might be unfair to lump Mr. Vacks in with such a crowd, but you have yet to be proven wrong (aside from Wayne Munson, he was more of a father than most biological dads in your opinion).

Another study day is laid upon the students. Another day for Mr. Vacks to spend grilling teenagers about if they saw anything, what they heard, where they were, and whatnot without having to worry about actually lecturing.

There’s a sick, twisted glee trapped between the rungs of your ribs every time he mentions his son. It’s bizarre and you don’t like it, but there’s something undeniable about it.

Your hand pressed to your mouth just to hide your growing smile, you act like you’re reading from the study guide while he speaks with Trinity Liú about Sully’s death. She last saw him with Jason Carver.

Good.

A paper pricks the side of your arm and you jump slightly, calming when you see Robin trying not to laugh at you.

You roll your eyes and take the paper.

ouyay okayyay?

“Pig Latin, really?” you whisper and she shrugs, trying not to giggle while you translate.

You pass the paper back.

fine. just worried i guess

As if.

Sully was a bastard.

But did he deserve to die?

Duh. He was awful. He was only going to hurt more people.

Well yeah, but did he deserve to actually die?

Did he?

You’re not so sure anymore. It makes you sick.

Robin passes the paper back.

ouyay ooklay icksay

Huffing, your reply is quick.

write like a normal person

She concedes and crosses out her previous statement. Replacing it.

you look sick

Are you sick because of your cracking mind? Or is it because you’re growing hungry?

You tilt your head and shrug.

i’m fine

Liar.

Though, now that you think about it. It’s been a good month of peace since Sully had to die, and now - you hate to admit it - you do feel weaker. You got a paper cut after feeding last month and it healed instantly.

You look down at your hands now, where you cut yourself removing a staple in homeroom, and it’s still a fine line of puckered, dying skin.

“You can tell me anything,” she whispers.

Not this. Robin doesn’t want to know this - she doesn’t have to know this.

Your eyes flip across the room. Past Robin. Past Trinity. Onto Andy - one of Jason’s best friends. He hasn’t done anything to you other than be annoying, but you know he bullies your friends.

Well, Eddie’s friends that are your friends by association. And the freshmen, who you insist are your friends.

Robin leans forward, brows knit tightly and lips pursed, “What’s wrong? Seriously, you’re being weird.”

“I’m fine, Rob,” she doesn’t look convinced. Not at all, and you don’t blame her. Your hand finds hers under the table and you squeeze, “Really. I’m okay.”

She doesn’t let go of your hand, and you don’t let go of hers.

Robin hates this feeling. She hates distrusting you. She hates feeling like you’re lying - because that’s not you.

You're her best friend. You’re more. You’re her one. Her person.

“I’m here for you,” it's the last ditch.

You nod, “Thanks, but really. ‘m okay.”

And it falls through.

She hates distrusting you.

When the bell rings, you’re quicker than her to pack up. You rush after Andy and she can’t surmise why. You have never liked Andy, never so much as muttered about how he was even cute. Robin wishes she could just look inside your head and see what’s wrong.

Why’re you acting like this?

Or is she being paranoid?

She hates this.

Robin chooses to stay on the sidelines when she sees you pouring the sugar over Andy. She won’t tie you down when you two aren’t even dating, but there’s no chance she’s going to sit there and listen to you hook up a date.

Eventually, you’re back at her side, “Sorry. Had to make plans for tomorrow.”

“You can…” she sighs, “you can go tonight, if you want.”

“I don’t.”

“You sure?”

“Duh.”

It doesn’t fix what’s between you two - whether you’re hiding something or she’s paranoid - but it makes her beam. Pride and joy and love.

Movie nights are simple and easy.

This movie night is different.

You look awful - dried, bumpy skin and heavy bags under your bloodshot eyes. She doesn’t say anything, though.

“Okay,” Robin stands in front of your TV, holding up three videos, “We have: Sixteen Candles, Footloose, and Flashdance.”

“Uhm,” you wet your dried, cracked lips that persisted no matter how much balm you applied, blinking hazily, “Sixteen Candles.”

“Sucker for Ringwald,” she ‘tsk’s but pops the movie in all the same.

“Says the one who liked Vickie McNulty, that girl’s a carbon copy of Molly Ringwald. Have you seen Pretty in Pink yet? They’re the exact same.”

“Yeah, and I liked her. Past tense,” Robin emphasizes, returning to her rightful place beside you on the couch. She tosses an arm over the back and you drag yourself into the open space of her side.

Robin is warm while you shiver. Your skin is cold - like death. Like Aunt Shauna. She tries not to let it show and brings a family favorite throw blanket over the two of you.

Your eyes are already beginning to flutter shut and Robin can’t help but grin. There’s an adorable quality about you - no matter how tired or sick you look, there’s something in the air around you. Sunshine and bubblegum and a BFF necklace in the shape of a strawberry heart hidden beneath your shirt collar.

Robin checks the clock. The game isn’t for another two hours, she can let you sleep awhile.

But then you’re pawing at her shoulders, lips pouting and eyes pleading. The tactics you usually bulldoze through are now lathering thick over her like cement.

“What, uh,” she blanches, hands coming to entwine with yours, “what’re you doing?”

“Hm?” you simper, for real this time, “Playing.”

“Playing?” she quirks a brow.

You nod, leaning up to kiss her cheek again, but this time it’s different. No more friends and no more giggles. This is want.

Need.

You feel foggy, though. Like your actions aren’t yours and when you realize what’s coming, you also realize that they aren’t.

And when Robin’s caged beneath you on the couch, you’re entirely out of control.

The hunger is just a little too strong.

It’s need that makes you lean down - lips pressing to hers.

It’s want that makes her reciprocate.

Her hands are on your sides and you feel something burn at your skin. It's sparkling. Sensual and smooth. Robin keens into your lips and you feel a little better than before.

But Robin’s brows furrow and she pulls back.

She wants this, but it feels odd.

You don’t feel like you and this isn’t how she wants this to go down. But she also doesn’t want to outright reject you. So she settles for the middle.

A cowardly, stupid middle.

“Maybe not now,” she whispers, eyes avoiding yours.

You jump off of her and nod. You press your lips to gather the lasting taste of Robin’s watermelon chapstick, and you notice your lips are pillowy instead of rough. Your skin feels fuller. Firmer.

You think Robin notices by the way she stares at you. You look down at where you cut yourself removing that damned staple.

Completely healed.

“You can…” Robin clears her throat, “see him. If you want.”

You have to. You know that.

And rather than assume Robin is just conflicted, you accept this as rejection. Because what in God’s name would it be otherwise?

“Right,” you have a little under two hours until the game, “Right. Sure.”

“Sorry- “ Robin stands, hands outstretched for you when you begin walking away.

“It’s okay, Rob,” you pull on your shoes, head too full of thoughts about the next meal to even begin conceptualizing the fact that the girl you love is directly turning you away, “I’ll see you at the game.”

“See you at the game,” she wrings her hands, already regretting her decision, “Things don’t… they don’t have to change.”

“Yeah,” you pause before you leave, leaning over to press a cautious kiss to her cheek, “Bye, bye.”

“Bye,” she waves.

Why did she do that?

It felt wrong. Not the same kind of wrong in how it would if you had been high or drunk, but also not entirely different. It was like something was moving for you. She’s known you for a long time. She’s seen you - studied your movements and mannerisms and she knows how you behave.

She’s not being paranoid, there is something wrong and she’s convinced that the “nightmare” wasn’t a nightmare at all.

So why isn’t she stopping you from visiting Andy?

You wouldn’t hurt Andy. You’re a sweetheart, you wouldn’t. Bizarre happenings or not.

Robin doesn’t know what to do, so she calls Steve. Stupidly.

“What would you do if I told you someone was off?”

A few streets away, you’ve already got Andy on his knees at an abandoned construction site. You’re trying to think of things he’s said before. Things he’s done. Anything to justify this.

“Your girlfriend? Yeah, the whole group knows she’s been off her rocker lately.”

He’s pressing strangely kind kisses up your thigh as you wind a hand in his hair. It makes you salivate in sick and hunger all at once.

“She’s not my- ! Whatever, I’m just saying. I’m worried. I know we agreed that the Upside Down isn’t open but… I dunno. What if they were wrong?”

You kneel down to Andy’s level. You cup his cheeks in your hands - gentle and tender and loving. You bat your lashes and his lips quirk upwards.

“I guess. Maybe it took a new host?”

Your hands wretch his head. Sharp and quick. Prey shouldn’t suffer - it’s inhumane.

“Maybe. We shouldn’t mention this, huh?”

You feel disgusted. Just until your stomach growls and the hunger grows. No longer can you sustain yourself on watermelon kisses and sun-bleached hair and pretty freckles.

“Probably not. That sounds like a one-way ticket and I don’t think we’re ready to use it yet.”

There’s nothing you can think of. Not that you’re thinking while you eat. If you think while you eat then you have to present, and if you’re present while you eat - you think you might go completely mad.

“Right. I gotta go get ready for the game. I’ll talk to you later, Hair.”

Before he can get out a “don’t call me that!” Robin hangs up. There’s a dagger in her gut and she can only rub at the ache building behind her eyes - it’s overwhelming. It crashes over her - unlike the ocean as it fails to build. More like a firework, sudden and unforgiving. Bright. Loud.

It hurts.

Robin wanders to her room and tries to fight off the urge to check if her bat is there. She hasn’t looked out of fear. If it’s still missing…

She doesn’t even want to think about it, so she doesn’t. She thrives in blissful, selected ignorance. But a glance outside her bedroom window, still unclean of blood and split open, shows your car left on the curb. Abandoned. Not even the cherry charm you keep hanging on your rearview mirror is swinging. Completely untouched.

Robin, foolishly, saves her concerns until homecoming that night.

“Hey! Someone’s lookin’ better!”

You turn at the coo and smile sunshine bright at your favorite drug pusher, “Hey, Eds!” you wave him over with a pom-pom, “Thought games weren’t your thing?”

“They aren’t, but post-game athletes in need of recreational fun,” Eddie holds up his black lunchbox and jingles it in front of your face, “they are.”

Humming, you look over his shoulder to where the Hawkins band is lining up in front of the bleachers. Lips pressing and head tilting.

There should be enough time, and it’s not like you’ll have any fun with anybody else. Besides, if you go to prom with Eddie and Robin brings Steve - it’ll be a friendly reunion. A nice reunion. There should be enough time between feeds.

Your face falls.

Jason’s running around the gym. He asks basketball players, cheerleaders, teachers, band members, and stray students alike. Where’s Andy? Where’s Andy? Where’s Andy?

“Hey,” Eddie settles a hand on your shoulder, face gentle but prodding, “you good, bubble-brain?”

“Yeah,” you laugh, airy and tired, eyes fluttery, “Sorry. Just, uhm, worried. I guess. Nobody can find Andy.”

Eddie shrugs and purses his lips, as if he has no idea why that might be alarming, “Probably fucking off somewhere. ‘s gonna work out. He’ll be here.”

Robin bursts through the doors with Steve hot on her tail, she searches for something. Someone. You.

She grins despite the saran wrap bundled relationship you’re sharing and rushes to you. A keyring is looped around her finger, fitted with three keys - each one with a different fruit painted onto it - and a fluffy pink and white ball charm. Robin presses the keys into your chest, hand lingering just long enough for you to cage her hand there with yours.

Your heart thunders and you wonder if Robin can feel it. You wonder if she knows why.

“You left these at my house,” Robin mutters, eyes staying on your glossed lips just a little too long for a friend - for a girl, “along with your car,” her voice is a little raspier than usual, you like it, “You should really keep better track of your things.”

“Right, sorry,” you release her hand and hand the keys to Eddie, “I’ll pick it up tomorrow morning. I’m kinda… tired.”

“Of course,” Robin nods shortly, then takes you by the arm and drags you away from the boys, “Look, bunny, something is definitely up. And- and don’t. Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely…” she laughs, hollow, “I’m into you, that way. I like you, like, a lot. I think I’m crazy for you, actually. Just- I wanna get this all figured out before we start anything.”

Nothing will ever be figured out. Not really, anyway.

But you nod slowly because you don’t know how much longer you have to be with her like this.

“I get it, Rob,” you reach out and clench her hand, squeezing with a saccharine smile, “‘m still gonna flirt with you.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she grins, bottom lip tugging between her teeth.

You’re not dumb - lots of people think you are, but you aren’t. You know that the demon sleeping inside you was satiated by Robin’s touch and you now choose to keep that in your back pocket.

You’ve never gotten full off of mere touch, so the fact it happened with Robin will be a last-ditch effort. A just in case. For the worst scenario. You don’t want her in this more than she has to be. If she has to be at all.

You leave her side, prancing off to the line of cheerleaders in front of the bleachers.

Robin watches, face screwed in wonder. She’s not dumb, either. She can hear Jason asking where Andy is. She knows you were more than likely the last person to see him alive. She knows something’s wrong.

Upside Down host or not, you’re you now. That’s unmistakable.

She watches from the band section as you cheer with the others. It’s you. She can feel it. There are times where she can’t. Where she senses something else. Something off. Like a store-brand coffee or a cheap copy of a dress.

Sometimes it’s you. Sometimes it’s a mix. Sometimes, rarely, it’s that dread from before. When you were keeping her down, she felt it. Darker. Twisted. A thick rainstorm, a deathly hurricane that smothers the sunshine.

But now, as you cheer on the Tigers and subtly wave to her with your sparkly green-and-yellow pom-pom - she knows you’re you. Undeniably and absolutely revocably you.

...

“Thanks again, Eds,” you’re in Eddie’s passenger seat by the end of the night. Your feet kick up onto the dashboard and twirl the ring Robin gave you around your finger, “So, how much did you make tonight?”

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute,” Eddie pops you in the thigh with the back of his hand, “And I made a shitload. Haven’t counted it all yet, but - it was a lot. Not that you’re seeing any.”

“Aww,” you lean over the center console, pouting dramatically, “you’re so mean.”

“Go tell your girlfriend about it,” he smiles at you. Big and fake and dumb.

“Oh, you know what- “ you fold your arms, lashes narrowing at the metalhead. Then, your eyes go lax and hands fall into your lap, fingers now picking at a peeling edge of cotton candy tinted nails, “Do you really think she likes me?”

“You two are so oblivious.”

“Well, I mean, I know she does, it’s just…” you look out your window, watching trees skim past the skyline, “I dunno. Maybe it’s the childhood friends effect.”

“I’m gonna lose my mind,” Eddie shakes his head, eyes lingering on your side profile for just a second longer, “I feel like I’m listening to a bad rom-com,” when you stay silent, he sighs. Over-the-top and thoroughly done, “Even if it is the childhood friends effect, it’s still there, right? You two are still into each other.”

“Yeah.”

But for how long?

How long can you hold yourself together?

“Wanna go to prom?” your voice is a little too distant, a little too caught up in your own thoughts, “I mean, I’ll be with Robin, but we need someone to bring us and I figure you’re going anyway.”

You gesture to the backseat of the van where Eddie’s black, metal lunchbox has been tossed - originally onto the seat but it tumbled to the floor as soon as Eddie started driving. He should really get his driving under control.

“Wow, just call me a chariot next time,” Eddie mumbles, hands knocking on the steering wheel to the rhythm of the radio, “Sure, I’ll take you.”

“Great!” you punch the ceiling of his van, quickly earning yourself a glare that could kill, “Thanks a lot, Eds.”

“Mhm,” he slams to a stop in front of your house and holds up a fist, “Don’t get killed by whatever thing is hunting hot teenagers, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you hope your voice doesn’t shake too much, hope your giggle isn’t too nervous, “You either, ‘kay?”

When you bump your knuckles with his, Eddie then moves to twirl his hair - voice drawling up comically higher to supposedly mimic you, “‘kay!”

“Oh, get a hobby,” you roll your eyes and hop out of the van, “Drive safe!”

“Never!” he shouts through the window, honking twice and speeding away.

You jump at the sound and flip Eddie off as he drives, fully knowing he may not even see it.

A few streets away, Robin is laid back in her bed. Eyes on the ceiling. She feels like she could call. Surely, you’re home. But the idea makes her sick - so she shuts her eyes and lets the thought die.

Her room is so cold.

Grossly so.

Robin doesn’t know how much time passes, but eventually, she falls into a fitful rest on top of her comforters. Cold and restless. Cold and unwelcome.

…

You’ve always been a firm believer that hell is just the day of prom. Over and over again. Even before recent developments that left you exhausted and drier than a bag of prunes without a good feed.

It’s a day chock full of last-minute promposals and athlete douchebags trying to somehow act too cool whilst begging you and your fellow cheerleaders to go with them. The begging is in subtext, but it happens nonetheless.

“You should probably skip that meeting with Ms. Moora,” Robin leans into you, watching as your gentle hands rub your temples, “Don’t look so good, bunny.”

“Yeah, I know,” you’re quiet, eyes scrunched at the volume of the cafeteria, “I feel like hell.”

Robin purses her lips, nodding while taking one of your hands and squeezing it, “Are you gonna be okay to drive?”

You sigh. Shrug.

“Yeah…”

You don’t have much of a choice.

Robin visibly cringes, “I dunno, you can barely keep your eyes open.”

“I’ll be fine, Rob,” you huff, ripping away your hand to cover your eyes, “Sorry. I just. I don’t feel good.”

“I figure,” she laughs dryly, the glee dropping from her face just as quickly as it’d arrived, “Sorry, I’m only worried. You’ve been acting really weird lately, and with the… you know, everything going on. I have a bad feeling.”

“I’m fine, Robin,” you groan and lean back, head tilting towards the ceiling, “Really.”

“But how do we know?”

“The only victims have been boys, right? That’s gotta mean something.”

“Well, yeah, but still. Don’t you care?”

“About a couple douchebag athlete dickheads getting ripped open? No, not really.”

Robin pulls back, eyes wide, “What?”

You pry your hands down from your face, giving the confused Robin a once over, “What?”

“Dude,” Robin shakes her head, “how could you say that?”

Robin wasn’t ever a fan of the Hawkins’ meatheads, but there’s something about the venom with which you said such a thing. The way you’re so apathetic. It’s not you.

“It’s just…” you toss your hands up, “boys! Stupid, asshole boys. What does it even matter? There are a thousand other jocks just like them.”

“Okay,” Robin guffaws in disbelief, “but this isn’t like you. They’re still people. You just… I don’t- “

“People change, Robin,” you rub your cheek and groan at how dry it feels, your stomach stinging with emptiness, “It’s totally not a big deal.”

“Are you sure?” Robin furrows her brows at you, “I don’t like this change.”

“Well,” you stop yourself.

You cover your mouth as your brain finally catches up to what you just said. What the fuck did you just say?

“I don’t…” you blink, slow and tired, dazed and confused, “I’m sorry- I don’t know why I said that…” Robin leans down to lock eyes with you, taking your hands in hers, “Any of it. I don’t know why I said any of it.”

Robin cups your cheek, gently rubbing a thumb over your cheekbone, “I think you should have your parents call you out of school.”

Your cheeks are sullen and eyes sunken. You look dead.

Something in the back of Robin’s head whispers. Aunt Shauna.

“They’re both at work,” you run a hand over your face, frowning as you pull the hand away, “I could probably just leave now.”

“Will you be okay to drive?” you stand, pressing Robin down by the shoulders when she tries following.

“I can ask Eds, he doesn’t plan on coming back after his stupid lunch deals,” you nudge your head towards the Hellfire table - noticeably lacking in a boisterous leader.

“Alright,” Robin chews her bottom lip, reaching under the collar of her Jem and the Holograms T-shirt, “Hey.”

She holds up her half of a strawberry heart BFF necklace.

You smile, earnest but exasperated, and pull out your own half of the necklace - bending down to click it in place with hers.

“We’ll be okay, right?” Robin wants to go back.

Before your stupid band and before Sully Vacks got killed.

But you lie.

“Yeah, we’ll be okay,” you kiss her cheek, leaving it faintly red in your lipstick’s stain, “See ya.”

“See you later,” she can’t help but feel like there’s something missing.

Torn out and shredded.

You find Eddie at his infamous picnic table in the woods, finishing up a deal with Stacey Bennett. Excitedly, he waves you over.

“The queen of Hawkins High! How can I help you?”

“Can you give me a ride home on your way out?” you sit next to Eddie and plop your head on his shoulder, “I feel like slush.”

“Aw,” he pouts, packing up his lunchbox of drugs, “muck, even?”

“Mucus, actually,” you giggle when he gasps, apparently horrified.

“Alright, get her started for me,” Eddie hands over his keys, and you grin, jangling them as you skip off to his prized van.

Robin can’t shake the feeling that something isn’t right.

It persists even as she gets a ride home from Steve. Even as she gets in her pantsuit for prom. Even as she applies her makeup. It burns, eating at the fraying edges of her brain. Or what’s left of it, at least.

A few streets away, you slam your window shut and shake your head at how long you must’ve left it open. No wonder your room is practically freezing cold. That’s it.

You turn back towards your open closet and pull down the dress you’d picked out with Robin mere days ago. It’s a salmon pink affair to go with her baby pink pantsuit. Eddie will be in his usual attire with the addition of a blazer and aggressively neon pink tie. You hear Steve bought a hideously Barbie pink suit because he lost a bet to Robin.

It’s a beautiful dress. Dips and hugs where you want it to - lacing on the skirt (which falls to your ankles perfectly).

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Absent eyes. Irritated skin. Lips chapped. You look ill. So unlike yourself that it’s hard to believe this face was ever yours. You can’t stop staring, though.

It’s odd.

It’s you.

You’re hungry.

Just to punctuate the damn thing, your stomach rumbles - your head feels light and for a split second, you can’t see. You stumble, one hand flying out to catch yourself on the vanity and the other clutching your dress.

You wish you never went to The Hideout.

You need to feed quickly. You don’t want to think about the people you’d be hurting. Your friends. Robin. Last time was too close a call, you can’t possibly risk it again.

A sharpness hits your gut like you’ve been pierced, you whine and fall to your knees. Your mouth runs dry and you can feel your muscles twitch.

You need to feed quickly.

Eddie had a crush on you last year - you know that. You feel bad because you like Eddie as a friend and want him happy, but that can never be you. Something inside you, though, can’t stop thinking about it.

The way he looked at you. How he’d bend over backwards for you. How he still lets you put your heel-clad feet on the dashboard of his van.

“Hey, pull up here,” you’ve got half of a BFF necklace pulled up to your chin, pressing the cold metal against your skin.

Eddie concedes, looking over at you, “Alright, bubble-brain, what’s going on up here?”

He pokes your temple twice before you catch his hand - he laughs when you glare.

“Wanna check out the abandoned pool house?” you nudge your head in the direction of the aforementioned pool house. Moss bitten and vine slathered. It’s cracking the higher you look and kids like to dare each other to go inside on Halloween.

“Mmm, I dunno,” Eddie rests his elbow on the center console, chin digging into the meat of his palm, “We sort of have somewhere to be.”

“So?” you lean forward, nose at his cheek, grinning when he flushes, “C’mon, there’s fun to be had before prom.”

He backs away, arms folding. He’s trying to smile like this is lighthearted, like he isn’t half considering it and half afraid of you laughing in his face.

“What about Robin?” his brows furrow. Tongue pressed to cheek.

“What about Robin?” you run the half-heart charm over your lip.

“No,” Eddie laughs again, but he’s breathless, “You- no. No way.”

“Eds,” you puff out your bottom lip, “Eds.”

“No,” he’s firmer this time, “Alright, we can check out the pool house, but nothing is happening, do you understand? I don’t know what the fuck your problem is right now, but you’re being weird.”

“Nothing’s my problem,” you roll your eyes and hop out of his van, speaking before shutting the door, “Now, let’s go before we’re late.”

Eddie watches you cross the yard, you stop before the door and turn back to him. Calling and waving your hand impatiently. He reaches into his glove box and pulls out a walkie-talkie Dustin forced him to start carrying (not that he knows why, but when it comes to Henderson, it’s easier to simply go with it). He keys into the proper signal before calling out.

“Harrington? Come in, Harrington. I know you like dressing yourself up, but this is gonna be important.”

…

Robin looks at the walkie, then where Steve is still in his bathroom - eyes narrowed at his reflection and fingers burying in his hair every two seconds.

“Hello,” the ‘o’ is stretched out, “pretty boy, I’ve got serious shit going on.”

It’s Eddie. Robin might not be allowed to get into Steve’s shit, but this seems like a fine exception. So she grabs the walkie off Steve’s desk and tunes in.

“Eddie? It’s Robin, what’s going on?”

“Your girl is actin’ fucking weird. We’re stopped at the pool house. I think you two should hurry here before she decides to leave.”

Robin drops the walkie and darts out of Steve’s room. If she was thinking a little more clearly, a little less pressed for time, a little smarter - she would’ve dragged Steve to his car.

But she’s got that bad feeling and Eddie might be in trouble and you might be the cause.

She fucking knew she wasn’t paranoid. She knew something was wrong.

You were the last person to talk to Andy, and she knew that and she kept quiet because she didn’t want to be wrong. No, she wouldn’t have been wrong - she knows that now and she knew that then. She just didn’t want you getting caught.

There has to be something else. There’s no other option.

Her feet ache in the platformed dress shoes she stuffed herself into - but she doesn’t stop running. Her lungs are fucking burning and her legs are screaming at her to stop.

Something told her it was wrong. She saw you at the end of the hall - she saw you grab Sully’s sleeve and she could feel it when you trapped her against the couch. You looked like she’d never seen you - like you were twisted. Inverted and crushed and ground up and spat back out. No life. No warmth.

She should’ve listened to the whispers.

Aunt Shauna.

You’re not you. You’re not human.

…

“I’m telling you right now, bubble-brain, if you don’t let go - I might think you’re gonna try something.”

“Hm? And if I do?”

“I already told you, nothing’s happening.”

Your hands have found a place on Eddie’s sides, he can feel your nails through his layers of clothes. Your face pressed to his back.

“No fun,” you pout. Your stomach growls - stronger, louder, more vicious. You pry yourself away to clutch at your tummy, “God- fuck-!”

Eddie turns, eyes wide, “Are you…” his hands hover just above your shoulders, “What’s wrong?”

“Hungry…” you collapse into his chest, forehead pressing into his neck, “So hungry, Eds. ‘m so weak. Can barely fight.”

“The hell’re you fighting?” he tries laughing, really tries, “I doubt it’s that serious, bubble-brain.”

“Can you help me?” your jaw feels loose. Hanging by a string of muscle, the bones detached. Tongue dry and numb and gut clenching, “You’re a good friend, right? You care about me? We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course, we are,” he pulls you back by the shoulders and if you were just a little stronger then maybe you could’ve broken away like you did with Robin, “We can go eat right now. Where do you wanna go? I’ll use that game money to buy you anything you want.”

“Eddie…” you groan miserably, another growl and it rocks through you - a whole-body spasm. You snap forward at the hips as you yelp in pain. It’s like having that stupid bowie knife locked and twisted and dragged through your stomach again and again and again.

Your hands come back up to his sides, beneath the overcoat. Fingertips skimming up his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” you bury your face into the crook of his neck, nails digging sharply into his ribs and keep sinking even when he grabs at you and tries pulling away. Even when he screams - even when he rushes you into the wall. You take it and you don’t know how much longer you can, “I’m so sorry.”

It’s desperation and agony and you don’t think you can live like this anymore.

You can’t justify this life - you want to stop but you’re too scared to die.

Or rather, too scared to find out what happens if you stop trying to drown out whatever thing inside you feeds on flesh. At least this way you control the meal. Somewhat.

But now you’re picking Eddie.

Eddie is your friend.

You scream as he does and you hope someone finds you two. You hope they shoot you through the back and pierce your blackened heart.

He bleeds.

“Bunny!”

You dart away from Eddie at the sound of her voice.

Not her. Anybody, sure. But not her. Not Robin. The only one who loves you instead of the cheerleading prom queen, the only one you love. She can’t see you like this.

Her sweet, rasped voice carries outside and you hide in a dark corner; Eddie collapses back into the wall with hisses of pain and Robin smashes through a cracked, spotted window.

Robin crashes in with glass scraping her knees, slicing through the legs of her clothes. Her eyes find you though - just like they do at every party and the cafeteria and friend get-together. She finds you. Under the grime and darkness, she sees you.

“Bunny,” one hand scrambles in hidden view while the other reaches out for you, “you can come out, sweetheart, come on out.”

You try. You move an inch before Eddie gurgles in pain and your stomach wretches.

It’s too much. Why did she ask before shooting?

It should’ve been Nancy that found you.

“Robin!” you wrench back, hands covering your ears and eyes clenched. Your back hits the wall and you slide down to your ass, “Robin, Robin, Robin- !”

Robin runs to you, her shaky hands try and steady on your shoulders, “It’s okay,” she laughs, hollow and dry, eyes heavy, “it’s okay, I’m here. I’m here, bunny.”

“I don’t like this,” you whimper, legs pulling up as close to your chest as possible, “I hate this- “ you gasp and sputter, a scream is building beneath the surface, “I’m not me.”

“You’re you,” she presses a kiss to your forehead and her arms come around your neck, “You’re you right now, right?”

You nod weakly, hands coming down and winding into her overcoat, “I’m me.”

“You’re okay, bunny,” she kisses your temple and gently pries you away from the wall. Your back is exposed, “Everything will be okay…”

You sniffle and bury your face into the crook of her neck, “Robin- I- I don’t know what to do…”

She nods. Silent. Because she knows that if she opens her mouth now, everything will come spilling out.

“Robin, what do I do?”

Robin’s face scrunches and she kisses your cheek, “I’ll take care of it, bunny. Just let me take care of it, ‘kay?”

You go lax in her arms, a smile - finally, a real smile - spreads over your lips and you hug yourself impossibly closer. Her voice, raspy and scratchy and comforting, lulls you in like a siren’s song. And you hurdle towards her song like a lovestruck pirate - you hurdle right towards the whirlpool.

And you drown.

Robin cringes when you screech, but she digs the glass deeper into your back.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry- !”

Your hands scramble to her shoulders and you push and push and push until you can finally squirm out of her arms. You fly back into the wall, nudging the glass deeper. Your head rocks back and thuds into the dirt-caked surface as you scream.

You yank the glass shard from your back and watch the blood glint in the moonlight that leaks through cracked windows. Your eyes hesitantly flutter to Robin and you hate what you’re met with.

Wide eyes and heaving chest. She’s terrified. Terrified of you.

Then you look at Eddie. Bleeding and writhing in pain. His eyes can barely stay open long enough to properly watch you.

What have you done?

You drop the glass shard and it shatters across the concrete floor.

You like Eddie. He’s a good friend and a sweet person - an angel right to his core. If there was no way to justify hunting Andy and Jason - how in God’s name could you do it now?

Your knees ache when they hit the floor - a pain that rings up your thighs and nestles into your pelvic bone. Your forehead rests on the cold stone, dangerously close to the glass and you feel your stomach tighten. It growls and you wrap your arms around yourself.

“I’m hungry,” you whisper, head moving so your chin is on the floor and you’re staring right at Robin, “So, so hungry…”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Robin clatters forward, on her hands and knees, face lowering to yours, “You were full with me, right? Why didn’t you just come to me?”

Your lip wobbles and you can feel the budding fears rise to the surface.

Months pretending. Months wasted trying not to think about it. It’s not real. The missing posters, the blood you scrub away, the voice in the back of your head - none of it is real. The suffering, the hunger, the violence, all because some shitty metal band mistook you for their ethereal virgin. All because they wanted fame more than they valued their fellow man.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, Rob…” your eyes burn and there are tears that drag down your face, “Didn’t wanna risk hurting you…”

“You wouldn’t,” she cups your face, brows furrowing, “We- “

Eddie comes to a stand, still leaning against the wall, still cupping his hands over his bleeding sides.

“We can go.”

You and Eddie both look at Robin, but her eyes are trained on you.

She can’t go through with it. Not you, she can’t lose you.

You’re sunshine and bubblegum and a BFF necklace in the shape of a strawberry heart hidden beneath a shirt collar. You’re her one. Her person. The burger to her fries. The Juliet to her Romeo.

“We can go, bunny,” her hands fret over your face and she lifts you onto your knees, “No more Hawkins.”

“What about the others?”

She shakes her head.

“What about Steve?”

Robin has said it herself. Her and Steve are Platonic soulmates with a capital ‘p’. She isn’t very sappy, but sometimes when it’s his birthday or is feeling especially emotional, she spills it all. To you, to Steve. To anybody who’ll listen.

If you’re her person, Steve is her schmuck. If you were to drop dead, Steve would be your eventual replacement. The mere step-bestie.

They’ve gone to war together, been interrogated and tortured together, almost died together. Steve is more than a brother, he’s the entire family.

Robin steels herself and tries to shrug off the weight she’s slinging over her shoulders as she says, “What about Steve? There’s a million people like him, but… but there’s only one you, bunny.”

You don’t believe her, and you can tell that she doesn’t even believe herself.

“I should’ve never gone to that fucking bar…” you heave, throat tight and stomach aching, “Those fuckers - Robbie - tried sacrificing me as a virgin and now I’m- “ you reach for Robin’s leg, thumb brushing over the exposed red lines of where she cut her knees on the glass, “I don’t know what I am, but it isn’t human.”

“Just stay with me,” Robin picks up your jaw, cradling your head tenderly and forcing you to lock eyes with her, “If I can help, I will. You feel full with me, so just be with me, bunny.”

“What if I hurt you?” you sniffle, eyes wet and body limp, “I can’t- “

“You won’t,” Robin kisses your cheek, “And if you do, we’ll deal with it together. You’re strong, bunny, you’re smart - I know you can handle this.”

Your turn towards Eddie, “He knows.”

Robin’s hands go to your shoulders, pulling you tight to herself, tucking your head into the crook of her neck. She stares at Eddie. Pleading and weak and uneasy.

“Munson, I know you haven’t been around for a lot of Hawkins’ shit like we have, and we’ll explain later - but just- “ her breathing is shaky, she shakes her head, “Please, this wasn’t her. I swear, this wasn’t her.”

Eddie is silent. It’s bizarre. He looks between the two of you.

He doesn’t know where to go. What to say. He wants the old you back, whenever you changed he doesn’t know but he wants you back. He doesn’t even know if that’s entirely possible. He doesn’t know what to say.

How does he laugh this off? How does he wave this away? This isn’t you mistakenly hitting a fence when he was trying to teach you how to drive. It’s more than you passing out on his bed after a late night. Bigger than accidentally missing Corroded Coffin’s gig at The Hideout.

Robin hugs you closer, “I know we’re not best friends, but you have to know - it’s Hawkins. She’s sick with whatever fucked up curse is here.”

Eddie stands up from the wall, he pulls his hands away from his side to inspect the blood there. He’ll live, most assuredly, but he doesn’t know how long it’ll take him to forgive this.

Should he forgive this?

His hand shakes as he points at you - past Robin and right at where you’re trying to hide, “I want an explanation… and- and answers for whatever Hawkins’ curse you’re talking about.”

“Will you keep quiet?” Robin’s trying so hard to sound like she has the power, but it’s all bravado she never mastered. She’s pleading. Begging.

You look at him now. Shaking and horrified. You don’t look like the girl he knows.

“Yeah,” so he submits, hands raising in surrender, “I’ll keep quiet.”

He slides back onto the ground and Robin turns your head to her, she smiles and you try to return it. You really, really do try. But you’re tired and you’re hungry and you want to disappear from his pool house. From the world where you’ve done what you have.

“You’re starving, huh, bunny?” Robin brushes a thumb over your bottom lip before kissing you, “We should take care of you.”

“Do you hate me?” you clutch at her despite the question, desperate to keep her close even if she does, “For the… for what I did…”

“No,” Robin kisses you again, hungrier, harder, “Not at all, bunny.”

Dare she say it, she loves you.

And one day, you’ll tell her you love her back.

“Come on,” she stands and you take her hand. She squeezes - your skin is warm. You’re you, “Let’s get you taken care of, bunny.”

You’re warm.

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley oneshot #robin buckley fic #robin buckley #robin buckley x fem!reader smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #jennifer's body #jennifer's body au #eddie munson x platonic!reader #i want this out of my drafts so bad #i'm so sick

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lokis-army-77 · 1 year

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Notes

Robin Buckley x female reader

Word Count: 1319

The reader is part of the more popular crowd. She has been slipping short love letters into Robin Buckley's locker for the past few months, then one day she receives her own.

Warning: Fluff, talk of family and friends in the 80s not really liking anyone who likes the same sex.

I'm so sorry if this is awful, I literally rewrote this five times because I had no clue where I was going with this ask.

Masterlist (Taglist linked here)

The Hawkins High School hallways were practically empty as I looked around me cautiously. I opened my locker and quickly grabbed my backpack and the English textbook I needed for homework. With another glance over my shoulders, I opened the textbook to the first page where I had stashed a folded piece of paper. Smiling down at it I felt my face heat up.

I had been placing these short love letters into the locker next to mine for around three months now and the girl who was receiving them was none the wiser. She had no clue who it was and even though she didn't know it was my feeling being laid out on those pages, I was relieved because no one knew my secret.

She was almost my complete opposite socially. Band geek who was too shy to come out of her shell around people she didn't know. She hung out with people around School I never would be allowed to. Meanwhile, I was friends with the most popular people in Hawkins. With parents who were among the most wealthy in town, I had never had to try too hard at anything, people flocked to me and most probably weren't even my true friends.

She was cute with her short light brown/dirty blonde hair and the baggy sweaters and jackets she wore. Every Time I saw her I'm sure my face went completely red.

Robin Buckley was my crush and I was too scared to tell her to her face.

Liking girls was never something that came up in conversation with the more popular side of Hawkins High, it was always boys, what sports game was going on that week, and if anyone was hosting a party that weekend.

I couldn't tell my friends anyway. The information would somehow get back to my family and I'd be disowned, cut off, and thrown away. I had seen it happen to my uncle Thomas a few years back when he said something about a boyfriend at a family Christmas. I've never heard from him since.

I was taking a big risk even writing these letters to Robin and stuffing them through the vents in her locker. If anyone found out I liked her and not some overly egotistical basketball or football player, my life as I know it would be over in a flash.

Stepping back from my locker and closing it shut, I made sure none of the three people in the hall were watching me as I carefully stuffed the note away into Robin's locker.

…

The next day I spotted Robin with Nancy Wheeler, chatting at the lunch table right next to mine. They were looking at something and when I got closer, I realized it was my note.

"I don't know Nancy, I just wish I knew who she was." Sighed Robin.

I kept listening to their conversation as I sat down with my lunch.

"I know you do Rob, but maybe she's coming from a place that won't allow her to openly admit any of this," Nancy spoke. I nodded along to what she was saying, knowing she was right.

"I get that, I really do, I'd just like a hint as to who she is. You said the handwriting looked familiar, are you sure you can't pinpoint whose it is?"

My eyes when wide. My handwriting. Shit, I didn't think of that. I never interact with Robin ever so I never thought that the recognition of my handwriting would ever be something that would happen. But Nancy? I worked with her on the school paper, and she definitely knew what it looked like.

In my shock and surprise, I let their conversation slip away. I wanted Robin to know that it was me who liked her but at the same time, I didn't. Worry surged through me at the thought of the whole school somehow finding out my secret.

I just breathed. If I just didn't let Nancy see anything I had written physically, I should be fine. Most of the work we have to do on paper is typed and printed anyway.

…..

The next week passed by and still Robin hadn't a clue who I was. I had placed my letters in her locker like always. That was until I opened my locker Friday afternoon and a note fell to the floor at my feet.

Curiously, I picked it up and unfolded the lined paper to reveal scratchy handwriting.

Hi. I'm so awkward at this but I hope you don't mind. Thank you for all of your notes. I was actually really surprised to learn that it was you writing them, I've kinda had a crush on you since seventh grade. I can't tell you how nice it was to read your thoughts about me and I just want you to know that I feel the exact same way. I'm bummed that it took me this long to figure out it was you, I guess I have Nancy to thank for that one. After school, I'll be at the swing set at the middle school if you want to stop by…

-Robin

Holy shit. Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit. My heart pounded as I read and reread the note, eyes bulging at the name scrawled out at the bottom. My hands trembled at the thought of walking out the double doors of the school and heading to the playground. What is someone saw? What would happen? I was nervous and a bit scared and the thought of not going did cross my mind but the thought of Robin waiting and me never showing up churned my stomach.

After a few deep, calming breaths, I packed up my things, folded up Robin’s note, and headed out of the building. The parking lot was almost completely empty and no one crossed my path as I made the trek up the small hill to the middle school.

Turning the corner around the building, I could see Robin sitting and swinging quietly, back facing me. She turned quickly when the sounds of my footsteps on the gravel reached her.

Her face brightened when she saw me and the smile she had made my knees go weak.

“Hi.” I waived.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just like, really nervous.” I laughed and wrung my hands together.

“You, nervous?” She asked. “I’m the one who should be nervous, the most popular girl in school actually likes me.”

I took the last few remaining steps toward the empty swing beside her and sat.

“Thank you.” She reached her hand out to me, placing it on my knee. I watched her with wide eyes. “I actually really enjoyed reading those notes.”

I smiled. “Yeah? They were the only why I thought I could talk to you. The only way I knew how to tell you my feelings without letting everyone know. Liking girls isn’t something my friends or family are okay with.”

“I know what you mean.” Her hand came to rest on mine. She pulled back slightly when my eyes snapped from her face to my lap. “Sorry, was that too bold of a move?”

“No.” I moved to grab her hand again, bringing it back to my lap, and intertwining our fingers. “I liked it.”

“Do you think maybe you would like to hang out sometime? I mean it’s perfectly fine if you don’t want to, it's just that I think it would be really great and I would love to spend some time with you.” She began to ramble on and I squeezed her hand, calling out her name. She stopped and looked up sheepishly. “Sorry, I spew words when I get nervous.”

“We can totally hang out. I’m free tomorrow, my parents are on their monthly business trip, so you can come to mine if you want.”

“Definitely.”

“Then it's a date.” I smiled at her.

#robin buckley #robin buckley fic #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley fluff #maya hawke fluff #maya hawke x reader #stranger things fic #stranger thins fluff #female reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley stranger things #robin buckley requests

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sebstan2020 · 1 year

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Just Another School Day

Steve Rogers X Bucky Barnes

The worst thing about high school were the bullies. Picking on the smart kids, shoving them into lockers and teasing them day in and day out. Steve just happened to have the worst bully there could be, Bucky Barnes. To everyone, Bucky was a typical jock, picking on tiny smart kid Steve. But behind closed doors there was more to their relationship.

Warnings: BDSM, Sadism, Masochism, Submission, Dominance, Bondage, Cock Sucking, Name Calling, Slapping, Punishment, Teasing, Bullying, Forced Orgasm

Steve hitched up his bag over his shoulder, making his way into the school halls. It was bustling with students, chatting amongst each other, the groups of the school clearly marked. He passed a group of cheerleaders, all in the uniforms, high ponytails and knee-high socks gossiping about the latest school news. He then passed a group of pot heads. All dreadlocks and tie dye t-shirts. Next was a group of pretty girls, long blonde hair, dark way locks, makeup caked on and lips glossy.

It was typical high school. You were assigned to a group immediately on the first day and there was no coming back from it. Steve, he didn’t fit into any of those groups, no, he was a nerd, a geek, dork, bookworm weenie, whatever you wanted to call it, he was assigned to that group. He was a hard studying guy who enjoyed science and math and coming to school to learn. He had a handful of mates, but their group was rather small compared to the others.

He dressed in slacks with a shirt and tie and a jacket over the top like his friends. He was the only one in the group who didn’t have a pair of thick glasses on, but his blonde hair was slicked to the side and stayed in place all day. He was short and thin, and his inhaler stayed in his pocket at all times. He was a shy boy, not much with the ladies and kept to himself mostly except for when he was with Peter and Bruce. The three of them combined meant they were the smartest in the school which wasn’t so good for their popularity.

Steve made his way down to his locker, his feet scuffing on the hard floor and squeaking. He kept his head down, holding his bag close to him until suddenly he felt a shove. His body slammed into the metal lockers, doors banging and his elbow knocking the funny bone, sending off a painful tingle through his arm.

“Watch where you’re going nerd!” a voice called, and a handful of laughter’s followed. Steve didn’t need to look up to know who it was. The jocks or better yet Bucky. James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was the ruler of this school. captain of the football team, leader of the most popular boy group and a popular one with the ladies, he was Steve's worst nightmare. From day one he’d picked on him, calling him every name under the sun, shoving him into his locker every day. Steve was starting to get permanent bruises from being shoved so often. Steve didn’t even do anything to cause this, but his social status just happened to be a major factor.

Steve's jacket was ruffled, and he held himself up against the lockers as Bucky and his crew circled him. they were of course wearing their jock jackets. Bucky was the complete opposite to Steve. Tall, bulky, luscious hair that was soft to the touch, perfect teeth, and the rich scent of cologne on his neck. He was everything eery guy wanted and every girl wanted. The number of girls he’d been with was too many to count.

“Hey Bucky” Steve grumbled, and Bucky chuckled, getting closer to Steve.

“What you up to princess?” he teased, and Steve pulled his jacket back on his shoulder, straightening himself up.

“Just going to my locker” he murmured nervously.

“Yeah, well next time be considerate when you’re walking down these halls, other people need to get through and they can’t with your dweeb ass in the way” his crew laughed, and Steve looked down nervously.

“Sorry” he mumbled, and Bucky laughed, patting his shoulder.

“Oh, come on you know I’m only having you on, don’t get all worked up sweetheart” he knocked his chin with a finger and Steve yanked his head away.

“Ooff he’s fighting today Buck” Sam called behind him, watching Steve retaliate.

“Is that what you want Stevie, a fight” Bucky teased, and Steve shook his head.

“No, no, no... I just- “another fit of laugher came and Bucky looked over to his crew.

“This nerd couldn’t even survive one punch, don’t worry darling I’ll save the punches for someone else” he smiled, patting his shoulder and Steve nodded.

“Come on, let’s go, we’ll be late for practice and coach will be on our asses” Clint piped up and the crew began to leave.

“See ya nerd” Sam spat, and Bucky gave one last shove to Steve as he knocked his shoulder, smirking over his shoulder as he left. Steve took a deep breath, fixing his attire and hiding his face from the look of other students in the hallway. He was used to this, being stared at, and watched. Bucky liked to make it a big scene and no one was ever brave enough to stand up to him, including Steve.

Steve grabbed his things from his locker shoving them in his bag when he noticed a small piece of paper inside. He took it, slowly peeling it open from its folded state and it was a small note.

Meet at mine after school, around 3.

A nervous tingle went through his system as well with excitement and he shoved the note in his bag quickly before slamming his locker.

It was the end of school and Steve began to head to the place of meeting from the note. Most kids got the bus, but Steve decided to walk. It meant he was on his own and the last thing he needed was someone seeing where he was going. He’d get killed if someone found out. As he got closer to the location, his stomach started tightening with nerves and excitement and curiosity, his palms turning sweaty and his heart racing.

He arrived at the house he was told to meet at. No cars were in the driveway, which was excellent, so it was just the two of them. Steve walked to the front door, bringing his fist up to knock but realised he didn’t need to. For some reason it had become a habit to knock even though he knew he could walk straight in although he felt like he was trespassing. He entered inside, the house silent except for noises coming from upstairs. He assumed he was to go there to the bedroom. He climbed the stairs, his footsteps soft and he made his way down the hall. He knew this place off by heart and when he reached the door that was cracked open, he took a deep breath.

He pushed it open, the creak of the door on its hinges catching the persons attention and they turned around, smiling wide.

“You’re early, I like that” Bucky said. He had discarded his jacket, throwing it over a chair and was now in jeans and a plain t-shirt. He looked so hot; he did every day and Steve couldn’t help the twinge in his cock as he looked over at Bucky. Steve couldn’t help but smile at the gratitude given to him, the flush in his cheek unavoidable.

“Did anyone see you?” he asked, knowing full well no one would have because if they did, Steve would be in for the punishment of a lifetime.

“No Sir” he answered, and Bucky smirked, strolling over to Steve, arms casually swinging, and he easily towered him as he stood in front, his rich cologne flooding Steve's senses. Steve looked up from under his dark lashes, biting the inside of his lip.

“Good, because you know what would happen if someone did” he teased, and Steve nodded. He definitely didn’t want that punishment.

“Yes Sir” Steve replied, and Bucky smiled.

“Good, how’s your arm?” he asked, referring to his knocked elbow this morning. Steve gave it a short rub3, but it was nothing he wasn’t already used to and didn’t enjoy. Steve liked the pain, he liked it when Bucky shoved him like a useless toy, calling him names. But that wasn’t the half of it. There was much more than that that went on between the pair.

“It’s fine, nothing that I can’t handle” Steve said rather smugly, and Bucky chuckled.

“Of course, because you’re just a little pain slut aren’t you” he spat, and Steve nodded.

“Yes Sir”.

“And you’re my pain slut, isn’t that right” Bucky began to trail his hands over Steve's body, sending tingles through him to his cock which was aching to get out of his tight undies. Steve took a breath, closing his eyes briefly as the sensations took over.

“Yes Sir” he whispered, and Bucky chuckled, his hand coming up to his neck and choking him lightly.

“Good boy” he placed a kiss to his lips, powerful yet slow. Steve moaned into Bucky's lips, his hands automatically reaching to wrap around Bucky's broad shoulders. But that ended very quickly. Bucky pulled back, slapping a hand across Steve's face, a sharp yelp echoing in the room and a glare coming from Bucky.

“Did I say you could fucking touch me?” he gritted, and Steve sighed, swallowing hard. His pale cheek turned bright red and blotchy, stinging like mad.

“No Sir” he whined.

“God you’ve only been here a minute and you’re already asking for a punishment Stevie, do you want to cum today because I can make so that you won’t” Bucky raised his brows and Steve looked up with big doe eyes, almost silently begging.

“No Sir, I do” he pleaded.

“So, stop being a whiney bitch” the names were sending shocks to Steve's cock and the aggression in Bucky’s voice was adding to it. Bucky hummed and reached down to palm his crotch, already feeling his hard member.

“God you’re already hard aren’t you, you really are a pain slut” Bucky smirked, and Steve shyly smiled.

“Yes Sir” he whispered, and Bucky squeezed harder, causing Steve to stand on his toes as Bucky gripped his cock.

“Well, if you’re a good boy then I just might let you cum but for now this cock isn’t getting anything. get undressed” Bucky ordered and turned to walk over to the chest of draws. Steve made work on undressing however the mixture of emotions and sensations and feelings made him slack, and he didn’t bother to take his undies off. His tightie whiteies cupped his cock perfectly. Steve stood proudly in the middle of the room, waiting for Bucky who was busy taking out the toys and implements he was planning to use on Steve. He turned and scoffed, shaking his head.

“Seriously Steve, you’re going to be like that, take your fucking pants off” he snapped, and Steve realised he hadn’t removed them.

“Oh, sorry Sir” he mumbled as he took them off, flinging them to the side as Bucky groaned.

“And again, with the mumbling Steve I can’t hear a fucking word you’re saying. if I have to tell you to speak up again then I’m canning your ass, understood” Bucky said as he came back over, hard eyes and straight lips and Steve nodded, holding his head high.

“Yes Sir” he answered clearly, and Bucky huffed, shaking his head as he unravelled a bundle of rope.

“I let you fuck my cock one time, and you think you can slack off with me” he took Steve's cock and began to tie the rope around his balls and cock, threading it between them and tying it tightly so his cock was separated to his balls and his balls were cut into two clear ones. Steve hissed softly at the tightness which made the head of his cock twitch, his precum beginning to leak. Needless to say, he was a pain slut. The feel of the rough rope wrapped tightly around his balls was sending an erection to the tip.

Bucky took his cock in his hand, slowly stroking up and down, yanking on the skin being pulled tightly by the rope. Steve's eyes fluttered close, moaning softly. his cock was so sensitive, and Bucky could tell. He smirked, gripping Steve's cock tighter and watching him squirm, trying not to move so that he pulled further.

“I bet you’ve been waiting all day for me to touch this cock of yours haven’t you” Bucky teased, grinning sadistically, squeezing his fingers tightly around his sensitive cock.

“Oh yes Sir” Steve groaned, his head rolling back as he held his hands behind his back, careful not to touch Bucky without his permission. The last thing he wanted was a caning on his ass, the most painful thing ever. He wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after a good caning.

“You haven’t been playing with this cock while I’m not around, have you?” Bucky asked, raising a brow, his voice soft and tender and Steve breathed, shaking his head.

“No Sir I haven’t it’s all yours” he opened his glassy eyes to look at Bucky, a big grin appearing on his lips.

“Good boy” he whispered, leaning forwards, and kissing him softly. Steve's lips were soft, his jaw line smooth to the touch and Bucky shoved his tongue down his mouth, swirling with Steve's and he moaned. Tingles went to the tip of his cock, twitching in Bucky's hand and tightening against the rope.

“You’re going to be a good boy for me aren’t you” Bucky whispered against his lips and Steve whined, nodding. Bucky laughed under his breath and pulled away, dropping his cock and took some more bundles of rope.

Steve's arms were tied tightly behind his back, each hand holding onto the opposite elbow, the rope trailing up his spine to his neck and around his chest. His chest pressed against the rope, the tightness erotic. He could just about wiggle his fingers. Bucky moaned at the sight of him tied up, the rope synched around his body and digging into his skin. He trailed a hand down his chest, nails digging in and leaving red marks, grabbing his cock, and palming his balls that were turning numb from how tight they were in bondage.

“I think it’s time you show me how good you are for me?” Bucky said with a serious tone and Steve nodded, looking up shyly, blushing lightly. Bucky settled in the armchair in the corner of his room, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out, stroking it slowly as he looked darkly over to Steve. He looked so beautiful, tied up, his little cock in bondage, his skinny body tiny compared to Bucky's bulky one.

“Now come over here” Bucky ordered. Steve began to pad over but Bucky stopped him.

“No! Crawl” he demanded, and Steve took a breath before sinking to his knees. he shuffled over to Bucky, his knees digging into the carpet, pain burning. Without the use of his arms, it was hard to keep his balance and he almost fell as he reached Bucky's knees. Bucky laughed, reaching out and gripping his chin, running a thumb over his lip.

“Stick that tongue out sweetheart, I want you to get this cock nice and wet” Steve moaned, his tongue being pressed by Bucky's thumb. A hand crept around the back of his neck, pulling Steve forwards so his tongue was pressed against his cock. Steve licked up slowly, tasting the precum dribbling from Bucky's cock, the tip twitching as he lightly tickled it with his tongue. Bucky groaned, legs shaking and toes curling in pleasure. his tongue licked up the base, lips wrapping around the tip and kissing, looking up for approval from Bucky.

“That’s its baby, suck my cock” Bucky shoved Steve's mouth onto his cock, forcing him down to his balls, nose pressed against his crotch. A hand gripped his greasy blonde hair, tightly pulling at his locks and earning a hiss from Steve. Then he began to fuck his mouth, pushing his head up and down, gagging him as his cock stuffed him. Steve gripped his elbows behind his back, knees digging into the carpet and going numb. But the pleasure of sucking his master’s cock was distracting him from the pain.

Steve grunted, his back arched as he sucked on Bucky's cock, sloppy sounds breaking the silence of the bedroom, spit drooling down his chin. Bucky moaned, his head leaning back in the chair, hand gripping his hair so tightly that a few strands were yanked out. He pushed Steve's head down all the way, keeping him there for a few seconds whilst he gagged and chocked on his cock, body convulsing. Steve gasped for air as Bucky pulled him away, a hand instantly going to his neck and chocking him.

“You like that don’t you, you slut” Bucky spat, a hand slapping his face sharply.

“Yes Sir” Steve breathed, another slap hitting his cheek and he screamed, his cheek stinging.

“Good boy is this cock down here getting nice and hard for me” he reached down, yanking his cock through the ropes, feeling how hard it was. Steve groaned, gritting his teeth. The mix of pain and pleasure was so hot, he could feel his orgasm coming.

“Yes Sir, ohhhh please” he begged, looking up with puppy eyes.

“Oh, you want to cum baby?” Bucky teased and Steve nodded.

“Yes Sir” he was shaking in pleasure, toes curling as Bucky teased his cock, rubbing it hard and fast. He was ready to cum, his breaths getting quicker and deeper, and he was aching for release. The tip of his cock twitched, and he could feel himself ready to cum. He groaned loudly, ready to release. Just as he was about to, Bucky dropped his cock, kicking it with his foot, pressing on his balls and Steve hunched over in pain, a tear almost falling from his eye.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you cum that easily, did you?” Bucky laughed, kicking his sensitive cock and balls and Steve flinched.

“Now back on my cock” Bucky grabbed Steve's hair, shoving him back on his cock. The rope tied around Steve's body was tight and he was beginning to lose sensation in his hand. Bucky took full control, fucking his mouth, balls pounding into his chin and the tip of his cock hitting the back of his throat. Bucky groaned, his body shaking as he was reaching his orgasm. His breathing intensified, fingers gripping Steve's hair so tight his knuckles turned white. His cock twitched inside Steve's warm mouth, and he released his seed, spilling inside of Steve's mouth, filling him up with his sticky warm salty cum. Steve moaned on his cock, sucking the thick cum. He pulled upwards, gathering the sticky seed, and popping Bucky's cock out his mouth.

He was a mess, cum all over his face, cheeks hot and flushed, eyes glassy and tired, hair messed up. Bucky grinned in pleasure, catching his breath and he gripped Steve's chin, bringing his head closer.

“What do you say?”.

“Thank you, Sir,” he whispered, tiredly looking in Bucky's blue eyes. Bucky grinned, wiping a pool of cum across Steve's face. Bucky reached down, taking his hard cock, and started rubbing fast and hard. Steve shook in pleasure, his orgasm not far away, head leaning back, grunts escaping him as he was about to cum.

“You know what to do?” Bucky teased.

“Please Sir can I cum?” he begged, breathing hard.

Bucky didn’t answer but just continued to rub his sensitive cock. Steve let out one grunt, his cock releasing his load, his sticky cum spilling on to the carpet. Steve hissed as the pleasure was too much, his cock so sensitive and sore, cum smeared all over. He flinched at every touch. His body was covered in a layer of sweat, blotchy in some places.

“Oh, thank you Sir” he moaned as Bucky pulled one last time on his cock before releasing it.

“Now clean up this mess, I don’t want you cum on my carpet” Bucky ordered. Steve shuffled so he was leaning over the carpet, face down in the puddle of cum. He began to lick it up, cleaning up his mess as per Bucky's orders. He sucked the carpet, soaking up his sticky cum, an awful taste of carpet lingering on his tongue. He flushed with embarrassment, cheeks bright and when he was finished, he looked back up with wide eyes. Bucky took his face in his hand, curling his fingers and stroking him softly.

“Good boy, tomorrow before school I want you to come to mine” he said softly.

“What for Sir” it was unlike Bucky to ask him to come before school, it was normally after.

“So, I can stuff that ass of yours all day long and then fuck it after school” he grinned and Steve moaned, the thought of that making him hard again. Until then he’d have to wait.

Hey so I hope you like this, let me know what you think in the comments

@pattiemac1

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@musette22

#Steve Rogers #captain america #captain america the winter soldier #bucky barnes x steve rogers #james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #Steve rogers smut #Steve rogers fanficiton #bucky barnes fanficiton

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