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myfictionaldreams · 1 year

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Day 2: Roleplay - Ghostface!Steve Harrington

Summary: It had been your idea to dress up for Halloween as characters from Scream but what happens when you forget it’s Steve under the mask.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, consensual non-consent (CNC), roleplay, fear play, mask kink, being chased, discussion of safe words, groping, fingering, edging, hair pulling, rough sex, hand over mouth, creampie

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“I think I'm getting old”, came the frustrated grumble from your tired, fussy boyfriend Steve Harrington. His words weren’t boisterous as he muttered them under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck and staring down at the costume laid out for him on the bed.

Not reacting to him immediately, you continue applying the eyeshadow to your eyelid, smiling as you peeked at him in the mirror, his hands resting on his hips. Biting your lip to refrain from grinning or laughing, you innocently asked, “Why’s that Stevie?”

“Because I don’t want to go to this stupid party! I just wanna stay in and watch movies”. Steve began running his fingers through his recently washed hair, the ends curling gently over the tips of his shoulders but fluffy in texture as he had yet to style it with spray and gel.

You placed your brush on the dressing table and gave him your full attention in the mirror's reflection. “It's not a stupid party; it’s a Halloween party! There’s a difference”, you say enthusiastically to try and perk up his spirits. Steve continued to look down at the bed, only raising an eyebrow in a half-ass attempt at showing his excitement, so you turned on your stool, facing directly towards him. Sighing forcefully, you stood and approached with long, sweeping steps. “Come on! It’s only this one party, and then we can stay in for the rest of the year!” Trying to use all your manipulative tactics to sweeten him up. Fluttering your eyelashes up at him, your arms circled his waist, lifting his strong arms to settle over your shoulders.

Steve finally managed to tear his gaze away from the costume and towards you, but only so he could dramatically pout out his full bottom lip, his long, thick eyelashes curling up and nearly stroking his eyebrows as you melted into his warm coffee-coloured eyes. He was so handsome, and he didn’t even have to try.

Your nimble fingers slid beneath his shirt to feel the soft skin of his hips as you continued to try and elevate his excitement, “It’ll be fine, Steve, I promise”. Lifting onto your tiptoes, you captured his pouted lips with a brief, sweet kiss.

“It’s just not the same as they used to be. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive us there so it’ll save us some time to get back home again?” Steve asked as his hands smoothed over your bare shoulders, pulling you flush against his body and his warmth seeping into your skin.

You pulled away a step to give him a deadpan look, “It’s only a block away. I’m sure you’ll survive, and anyway, if you hate it, we can leave at any point”.

“Promise?”

“I promise, but we are still going. I’ve spent way too much money on the costumes to let them go to waste”, you explain whilst pulling out of his hold and sitting back in front of the mirror to continue finishing your makeup.

Steve’s attention returned to his costume, picking up the black cloak and white mask and holding it out in front of him. “Ok, I can take a quick guess as to who I’m dressing up as, but who are you supposed to be?”

You were still in your underwear, but to show him who you meant, you quickly flicked on the shoulder-length blonde wig and turned to him. “I’m Casey Becker, you know, Drew Barrymore, the girl that got killed at the start of Scream. I’m her after your Ghostface character kills me”, you explain whilst pointing to the wool cream jumper covered in splotches of deep red fake blood to match the stains on your neck and chest.

“Right”, Steve mutters before chewing on his lip, fingers once more returning to stroke through his hair before he reluctantly moves to the bathroom to continue getting ready, costume in hand.

You smiled triumphantly to yourself and continued getting ready, dressed in the simple jeans and once-cream jumper now decorated with fake stab wounds.

Waiting impatiently for Steve, with your arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor, you gently knocked on the bathroom door, asking, “You ready in there, Ghostface?”

As if he was waiting for you, the door swung open almost immediately, making you jump back on instinct, but the sight before you caused a deep warmth to flush through your body. The white scream mask was resting on the top of his head, pushing his hair out of his eyes so you could still see his face, but seeing Steve in the black cloak was doing something erotic to your body; you knew this outfit would be the right decision.

Steve's mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but he noticed how you shifted your weight from one foot to another, watching your eyes unfocus as they travelled up the length of his lean body, and he knew that you were becoming aroused. Confidence pumped through his veins as his spine straightened so he could pump his chest out slightly before casually leaning against the door frame, his ankle crossed over the other.

“Let me guess, you’re into this? You little freak”, he trailed off as he visually inspected your costume. Even though it wasn’t revealing anyway, his pupils expanded as he bit his lip hungrily.

Blinking quickly and shaking your head, you tried to snap your attention back to him and not all of the nasty thoughts of him wearing this costume whilst pleasuring you. Glancing away from him, you tried to remain casual and calm, “I don’t know what you mean, Harrington. Come on, let’s go, we’re already late”.

The two of you walked in the moonlight, the streetlights blinking from being faulty, but that didn’t stop the two of you from swinging your clasped hands between your bodies. Steve still had his mask pushed up onto his head so that he could watch his step and still look towards you and his vision not be distorted.

“So what is it that you like? Is it the violence? The costume? The evilness? The murder”, he extended the last word as he dipped his face and knocked his forehead against your cheek as you pushed him away laughing.

You didn’t answer him, but he was sure to have noticed how warm your face was and the unsubtle looks you were giving him from the corner of your eye. To be frank, you were near enough drooling over him in the slash killer costume. You weren’t sure what it was; maybe you were falling into the fantasy, knowing the character was a psycho killer but had your beautiful boyfriend's face, knowing he wouldn’t hurt you but still looked scary and murderous.

Steve continued talking, not phased by your silence, “Maybe I should wear this costume when we get home, especially as it’s getting you so hot and bothered. I haven’t seen you like this since I was in my scoops ahoy sailors outfit”. His sizeable, warm hand squeezed yours to show he was teasing as his shoulder bumped into yours.

“Will you stop it? We’re nearly there, and then you can go and annoy someone else”, you say matter-of-factly.

Steve scoffs, “Why would I want to do that when I seem to be doing such a good job of annoying you?”. Without missing a beat, he released your hand, but only so he could wrap his arms around your waist to spin you around on the spot, causing you to scream out and kick your legs to try and make him put you down.

“Steve, stop!” you laughed despite the harshness of your tone. Thankfully, when he finally placed you back onto your two feet, he kissed your lips, then returned to holding your hand and tugging you along for the rest of the journey towards the party.

Once the two of you had arrived, he kept his mask down, which was where you became even more confused and momentarily forgot that it was Steve and not a random guy. Especially as he kept quietly stalking up next to you, and after a few times of you jumping in freight, he found his new favourite game for the night; the drinking and the dancing were not his priority with his plans for the night.

Steve even managed to sneak into the bathroom as he overheard you saying to Robin that you were about to go and use it. He hid behind the shower curtain, waiting for you to use the toilet before sliding behind your warm body as you washed your hands, his hands caging around you, forcing your hips into the countertop.

You screamed in fright as his mask hovered close to the shell of your ear. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” he asked, trying to use a low voice to copy the movie.

For a second, you forgot it was Steve, the thumping from your heart showing your anxiety until it all returned to you. Glaring at him in the mirror whilst clutching your chest, you chastised him, “Steve! You scared the fucking shit out of me, stop doing that!”

Steve only laughed at your reaction, loosening his hold around you enough that you could turn in his arms and push up his mask to see his hair wet from sweat sticking to his forehead and a broad smile across his handsome face.

“Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you; it’s only me! Anyway, I don’t know why you keep freaking out; you’re the one who wanted me to wear this outfit”.

You were about to continue telling him off when he cut you off with a simple press of his lips against yours, lingering for a second and capturing your breath before pulling away, his lids heavy as he stared at the area where you were both just connected. He always knew how to win you around again, and you instantly found yourself forgiving him for the jump scare.

Gently you shoved his chest before gripping a handful of the black cloak, mumbling, “Asshole, I thought we were supposed to be a team”.

Steve’s gloved fingers tipped your chin so you’re forced to look up at him as he gave you a condescending head tilt. “Aww, you don’t have to be scared of me, Princess. I won’t hurt you. Unless that’s what you want, hmm?” his voice lowered as he pushed his body further against yours, his chest brushing against yours as his face dropped closer. He was so close that you could smell the beer on his breath, and you were entirely ready to fall into whatever he had planned, which, with the look he was giving you, was something naughty.

However, all of your hopes and dreams for having a quick fuck were destroyed as Steve dramatically bellowed, “Maybe I’ll gut you like a fish! Blah”, he began to act out, stabbing your stomach with the retractable plastic knife that was a part of the costume.

A heavy sigh left your mouth as you rolled your eyes, pushing past him as he pretended blood was spurting out of your middle, mimicking actions and being his usual goofy self. Usually, you’d be laughing with him. Still, damn, you were distracted and highly hopeful for the other things you had planned, slightly disappointed that he hadn’t gone through with them, especially as you were only seconds away from sinking to your knees and submitting to him.

The party continued for a few more hours, and Steve was more than ready to leave; having stopped drinking at midnight, he was getting to the end of his social battery. You were, too, so the two of you, thankfully, exited the silent streets hand in hand. You looked significantly different from when you’d arrived; the wig was missing as others had been trying it on, and now, it had disappeared, and the make-up and fake blood had mostly sweated off from your brief stints of dancing.

On the other hand, Steve still looked effortlessly beautiful, with his outfit still looking the same, but you were sure he must have been sweating under the thick, dark material.

Halfway home, your steps were abruptly halted as Steve stopped, patting over his clothes, looking for something, and cursing loudly when he couldn’t find it. “Shit, fuck! I left the keys at the party!”

“What! Steve, I’m not walking back there. Why did you even take them out of your pocket?!” you rub your tired eyes, frustrated and adamant that you wouldn’t walk the small distance back to the party.

Steve gave you an apologetic smile, and his lips pressed together firmly. “I’m sorry, babe, I’ll only be a minute; just wait here.” He turned and began jogging back to the party, around the corner and out of your sight.

Standing in the quiet Halloween night, the chill from the autumnal breeze ran more profound than just your skin as you became instantly unnerved by being on your own as the streetlamp at the end of the street continued to flick on and off. Rubbing your hands up and down your arms to try and keep yourself warm, you quietly whispered to yourself for Steve to hurry up, wanting nothing more than to be in bed with his arms wrapped around you.

“Come on, Stevie”, you pleaded under your breath, the warmth of it fogging in the air in front of your face. Dancing on the spot slightly, you moved your numbing fingers down your sides to slide them into your back pockets to steal some heat, but then they were interrupted by the cool metal of your door keys. “Shit!” you fumed, not remembering that you’d had the keys on you the entire time, and Steve didn’t forget them and had made a wasted trip.

Staring in the direction he’d left again, you internally cursed yourself, knowing that Steve would return pissed off and irritable with you. Deciding that it would probably save some time if you also returned to the party to find Steve, you took a single step back down the street, but a branch crack splintered through the air. Your head twisted toward the noise, but all you could see were twisting, endless shadows that even the occasional flash of the street light couldn’t illuminate.

Taking a deep breath to try and steady the nerves that were tremouring through your body, enough so that you clasped your fingers together to see if that would cease the movements. Maybe you were paranoid, but you could have sworn someone was watching. You wouldn’t even say it was paranoia anymore as you were sure someone was watching because the hairs along your arms and the back of your neck stood on end.

MybMaybe was just some drunken kids from the party or someone in one of the homes that lined the streets looking out of the window to see who was standing on the sidewalk. However, you couldn’t spot any curtains opening or see any drunken person stumbling with their steps.

You weren’t sure what to do; usually, when you felt uncomfortable or frightened, you would be with Steve, and he’d do anything to pull you out of the situation. You could run back to your home, but then you’d be there all by yourself, and then what would happen when Steve left the party to find that you weren’t waiting for him anymore? Maybe you could go back towards the party and meet Steve, but that also meant you’d be walking past the area where the loud noise had come from.

“Is anyone there?!” you shouted in the general direction of the noise, hoping it would draw people's attention or frighten off whoever was there.

“Don’t you watch scary movies? You’re never supposed to shout who’s there”. Out of the shadows creeped Ghostface, his mask down and the plastic knife in his gloved hand at his side.

Thankfully, for once, due to your body being on high alert, you instantly remembered that this was Steve and not a stranger and recognised his voice, which had been challenging to do at the party.

Clutching your chest, you sucked in a greedy breath, “Steve! You fucking scared me. Why the hell would you do that?” Steve didn’t respond. He just casually strolled forward, almost swaggering with his steps, masked head tilted slightly. Trying to calm your pounding heart, you nervously pulled the keys out of your back pocket to show him, I’ve got the keys. I’m sorry, I didn’t even know I had them in my jeans pockets”. You rambled on, the nerves continuing to take over your body as he didn’t say anything, just taking step after step towards you.

The keys in your hand rattled from your shakes, and finally, instinct took over as you took a giant step backwards, away from Steve. Your thoughts were all over the place. This was Steve; you could tell by the height and build, and it had been his voice that had spoken/ However, the way he was walking towards you like he was searching for his prey, his next victim, the thrill of it all gave you the wrong reaction, despite your fear, you were getting turned on by it.

Warmth bloomed in the apples of your cheeks that spread through your chest and deep into your abdomen, nipples pebbling beneath your jumper and rubbing against the inside of your bra. With each step that Steve took forward, you’d take one backwards, a game of cat and mouse ensuring.

A moment of silence passed, the two of you just staring at one another, until he lifted his fake knife and your eyes were drawn to this as he drawled, “Aren’t you going to run, Princess?”

It was an automatic response, the flight or fight intuition kicking in as you immediately ran. You ran like there was an actual killer after you, adrenaline and fear pulsing through your veins that helped keep your instincts on high alert as you ran toward your home. Even though your home wasn’t far away, it still felt like an eternity of running, the muscles straining and chest burning from sucking cold air desperately as you finally collided with your front door.

You’d been unable to hear Steve close behind you, but you didn’t waste any time, fingers trembling as you pressed the key into the lock and turned, rushing inside, slamming the door closed, and flicking the lock.

You waited, listening and waiting for him to bang on the door, but only silence greeted you from outside and the thumping of your terrified heart and heavy breaths in your ear. Steve didn’t turn up; even as you looked through the door's peephole, he still wasn’t there, so you took a few steps away, frowning in confusion.

Then it dawned on you. The back door. The back door, where Steve knew where the keys were hidden in the plant pot.

Spinning quickly, your sneakers squeaked on the hardwood floor as you’d intended to run to the back door to check it was still closed, but a prominent dark figure blocked your route. Once again, you knew it was Steve, even from how he was breathing heavily, the outline of his broader form and the faint smell of his aftershave that you could smell now that he was closer.

You weren’t entirely sure how far he wanted to go with this playing around, but you were not going to ruin the moment and willing to see just what Steve had in mind.

Taking a shaky step backwards away from the figure, you lifted your hands, palms up in defeat. “My boyfriend will be home soon, and he’s big; he’ll kick your ass”, your voice wobbled, which was half put on by you but also a little bit truthful with the anticipation.

Ghostface chuckled lowly, his head tilting, and the dominance and lure of the sight had your insides clenching with need.

“Oh, your boyfriend won’t be helping you tonight. No one will”, Steve stated confidently and didn’t give you any warning before he bolted forward. The rush caused you to jump and scream, turning and running in the opposite direction, but it was a useless attempt as his arms wrapped around your waist, pushing forward until you were flush against the wall, his chest hard against your back. You struggled and whimpered in his hold, trying to sound as desperate as possible, but Steve held firm but not enough to hurt.

The mark was next to your ear as he growled, “Now, where do you think you’re going, huh? I thought we could have some fun. What do you say?” You struggled against but mostly so you could grind your ass against his hips, showing him you wanted to keep playing.

However, your lack of words had your boyfriend freezing, the tone of his voice softening as he whispered, “Colour?”

Huffing out a laugh at his concern and momentary slip of the roleplay, you whispered against the wall, “Very fucking green”. You found it endearing that he still ensured you were okay and wanted to continue.

That seemed to be the last of the friendly acts, however, as Steve pushed harder against your body until your cheek was firm against the cool wallpapered wall, the plastic of his mask against the back of your neck. His gloved hands shifted lower over the front of your body, over the mounds of your breasts, your jumper-covered navel and past your hips until he was cupping your jean-covered cunt with a deep moan that rumbled against your back.

It was an automatic response to mewl and rolled your hips into the hold, feeling the pressure from your underwear digging into your clit but needing more. Your noises turned back into whimpers as his fingers quickly snapped over the button of your jeans, and his hand disappeared beneath the material until he was cupping you again, but this time directly to your skin. You pulled your hips away this time, but primarily because of the uncomfortable material; his gloves were cheap synthetic material and were rough against your sensitive, throbbing clit as his palm pressed against it.

Steve chuckled, the tips of his index and middle finger close to your entrance, and for a moment, you were worried he was going to finger you with the rough material; you weren’t sure it would feel nice, but this wasn’t what he was laughing at. “You’re such a desperate little thing aren’t you? I can feel how wet you are through the gloves”.

Your entire body warmed in embarrassment. You should have guessed that he would have felt how turned on you are, especially with how you could feel the slick gathered in your underwear, but you hadn’t considered him feeling it through the gloves.

Ghostface, always the one to tease and humiliate, then did something that had your gasps turning into surprise and shock. The pressure of his glove hand disappeared from between your legs, and from your position, you could see it disappear beneath his mask, where a sucking noise could then be heard as he devoured the juices from the fabric gloves.

“S-St-“ his name was on the tip of your tongue, mostly on instinct to submit to him by moaning his name, but you were also cut off by a deep, gravely groan as the man trapping you against the wall showed you just how much he loved your taste. His hips rolled against your lower back first, thrusting his clothed but painfully hard cock into you, then his hand reappeared from beneath the mask, but this time without the glove as he’d pulled it off with his teeth and dropped onto the floor.

“Why is it you always taste so much better when you’re scared?” he continues to taunt, and you knew it wasn’t a normal reaction, but your pussy clenched so hard that Ghostface had to wait a moment before he was able to push his fingers back into your underwear and his middle and ring finger penetrated your eagerly awaiting hole.

You rose onto your tip toes whilst attempting to back into him to rub yourself against him, but he held you firmly against the wall. His fingers did not waste any time either as they gathered the slick to coat the entire length of his two digits and pumped in and out with a slight curl as he pulled out.

Once more, it was on instinct that your hips were rocking to match his movements, pleasuring pounding into your core as your eyes closed, whimpers slipping from your parted lips that you wouldn’t be able to hold back even if you tried to What’s more the position was adding to the thrill, your hands sprayed and pressed against the cool wall, your cheek aching from the pressure of being pushed forward and the warm body surrounding your entire back with the plastic part of his masks against the back of your head as he rested his temple against you, watching and listening to every little noise that he caused you to make.

Ghostface doesn’t stop pleasuring you, his fingers continuing to pump into you as his palm occasionally pressed firmly against your clit, adding more stimulation. You were a sopping wet mess that could feel that familiar tightening between your legs. Where his fingers curled, and strokes began to harden as your orgasm tingled on the very edge; just one or two more movements and you’d be right there.

But Ghostface knew you were getting to that point, could hear and see how close you were, and he wasn’t having that, not yet anyway, so he swiftly pulled his hand out of your underwear.

“Uh uh, I don’t think so. Did you really think I’d let you cum? Definitely not; where would be the fun in that?” he laughs to emphasise his mocking, making you feel degraded and mind-muddled from needing him to continue pleasuring you but also wanting to push him away so he could stop being so mean.

With your minimal room, you tried to force your elbow into his stomach, but he could already sense your move and began sharply tugging on your hair with his still-wet fingers. His other arm circled your middle, helping with his grip and plan to move you away from the wall. Due to his taller size, he could easily manipulate you to walk in the direction of the kitchen; both of you can only walk without hitting any furniture due to muscle memory and the thin slither of light streaking through the blinds from the blinking street light.

Breath rushed out of you as Ghostface pushed you over your wooden table, your hands and face again pressed against the surface. You were dazed from the fingering, so you didn’t immediately react when he roughly pulled down your jeans and underwear until they were discarded somewhere in the darkness. In actuality, you sighed in relief from having the air breeze over your aching cunt and only responded with your own needs as your hips wiggled enticingly towards the man behind you.

This was rewarded with a sharp smack to your left arse cheek, halting any fuzzy happiness you’d been wrapped in. A leg shifted between your legs, shifting them further apart as the sound of clothes shuffling was heard from behind you as Ghostface began to lift his cloak and bunch it around his hips.

You weren’t able to see him correctly over your shoulder, but your pussy clenched with anticipation, especially as you were only able to see the mask. It still scared you, but knowing it was Steve only made you back up into him until his cock was suddenly being thrust between your arse cheeks.

“Careful now, Princess, don’t want to be stabbed with something now, do we?” Ghostface chuckled right before he slipped his cock, inch after inch, into your pulsing hole. He wasn’t slow; he moved with intent, wanting it to be overwhelming, which is just what you wanted, and automatically, you raised onto your tip toes even whilst leaning over the table.

“Fuck!” you shouted, eyes shutting as all thoughts focused on the fullness you felt between your legs and the desperate need for more.

“Nope, none of that, don’t want the neighbours hearing or your boyfriend, got to keep nice and quiet whilst I fuck whats mines”, Ghostface grunted sharply as the hand that was still gloved now wrapped around your mouth, so you were forced to breathe heavily out of your nose.

On instinct, you gripped his wrist but didn’t pull away and just tried to concentrate on controlling your breaths as his hips began to move in short, quick rotations. In and out, sloppy fast thrusts that had deep warmth radiating from your cunt and down your thighs.

Sweat was gathering over your body from behind, stimulated and so close to Ghostface, who was also like a human radiator with all his clothes layers. You could feel that he had been wearing jeans as they brushed with each thrust against your sensitive thighs, and it only again reminded you that this was Steve as your hips shifted back to meet his.

It didn’t take long for you to feel the pressure increasing again like it had just before you moved away from the hallway wall. You wanted to cum, no, you needed to cum, wanting to soak Ghostface’s jeans with your juices, wanting to be good for the fake murderer and show that you could cum on his cock.

“You wanna cum? I can feel you getting tighter”, Ghostface asked next to your ear, his voice rough and gravely from where he was out of breath.

He momentarily released his cover of your mouth to allow you to speak, “Yes, please!”.

Ghostface wanted to laugh at your polite response, already knowing you were slipping into a submissive headspace from the way you were backing up to meet his thrusts and holding onto his wrist like it was your lifeline. But he wanted to keep the roleplaying going for a little longer, even though he was desperate to hear your sweet orgasmic mewls.

His hand again covered your lips as he tutted, “No, I don’t think so. I’m going to cum first, and then you can cum, but not until I do.”

You cried against his palm, feeling like your breath was stuck in your throat as you tried to control your euphoria, but it was difficult to do that and breathe through your nose.

Dizziness swayed through your mind as you slumped against the table, releasing your hold of his wrist as you needed to try and control yourself. Ghostface noticed the change and would have kissed the back of your head if he didn’t have his mask on, so he finally allowed you some comfort by releasing his hold on your mouth, letting you suck in deep breaths that filled your lungs.

This allowed him to hold onto your hips, holding you still and fucking deeper, his bulbous tip brushing against your cervix and thighs bruising into the edge of the table. Faster and harder, he moved, chasing his orgasm until finally his balls tightened to his body, and his shaft hardened with each spurt of hot seed that began to coat your inner walls.

You could feel it and hear Ghostfaces’ orgasm, and you finally relaxed the mental torture of holding back your orgasm and came with him. Your walls clenched in quick flutters that helped to milk the last drops of Ghostface’s cum before he collapsed over your back, mask resting on your shoulder and hands on either side of your head.

The two of you were breathing heavily, too lost in the moment even to talk before he moved first. Starting with a gasp, Steve pulled off his face, and you could see over your shoulder that his hair was drenched, sticking to his forehead and face gleaming in the small streaks of light.

“Fuck, it was warm in there; they need to make them with a small fan inside or something, holy shit!” Steve sits up slightly but still leaning his hands on either side of your head, and he catches your eye and grins, showing all of his teeth and eyes crinkling in the corners. “As much as I’ve loved this, I’ve missed kissing you” he dipped his face and kissed your cheek, leaving a few drips of his sweat on your skin, but you didn’t care, not when he was looking at you in a way that was making your heart race.

“So that mask, we’re keeping it, right?” you finally speak, voice hoarse as you try to smile over your shoulder at him, feeling his cock softening within you.

“Oh, for sure, you kinky little minx”, he agrees, kissing your cheek again.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington one shot #stranger things #stranger things smut #mine*#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #ghostface steve harrington #ghostface!steve harrington

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 10 months

Text

Three for One 2

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: The ho-lidays are the daddies and the baddies.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You bob around to the tinkling of carols as they waft over the store. Unlike your coworkers, you enjoy the repetitive tunes. They are so fun and bright and help the time pass between customers and stocking. Not that there isn't more than enough to keep you busy.

In the rare moment where you aren't distracted, you let yourself browse the colourful lipsticks and shining perfume bottles all around. You don't have anyone to shop for, not even yourself. You have your dollar store glosses and discount nail polishes. You don't see the need to spend too much on those things. Or maybe you just prefer what you know. Simple and cheap.

Around lunchtime, traffic really picks up. Several customers ignore your approach and brush by you before you can entice them into buying some Chanel. You've already hit your sales targets but you never really think of numbers.

A woman stops you and asks for a very specific palette. You know just the one. You think it's cute, it looks like a cupcake, and while you adore the aesthetic, it isn't worth the price tag. It's just powder!

You show her where it is and Luanne comes over to take the reins. She's the makeup genius, her flawless contour is proof enough. You turn to float back to your zone and see a man watching you. You recognise him! Vaguely. You see a lot of people in a day.

"Good afternoon," you sing as you near him, "anything I can help you with?"

His throat bobs as he cheek ticks, "uh, yeah, er..." he pushes back his gray jacket, tucking his hands in his pants pockets, "you remember me?"

You smile as you try not to show your cluelessness, "I think..."

"I came in last week," he says.

You think, scrunching up your face as you tap your chin, "yes! You bought Liz Taylor for you mother."

"Mother-in-law," he corrects you, not unkindly.

"Yes, that's it," you jab your finger upwards, "you complimented my sweater."

"Yeah, that was me," He finally smiles, "anyway, I was thinking of getting a gift for my wife. Just a little stocking stuffer."

"Oh, that sounds so cute," you nearly squee. You get so excited to help people shop for a loved one. At the same time, you feel that void. Maybe one day you'll have a husband thinking of you. "We have some great gift sets, actually. They come with different scents so you're wife can figure out which one she likes best." You direct him over to a shelf, "oh, and if she has a favourite, you can get her a full bottle for Valentine's!"

He gives you a look. His eyes narrow just a bit and his cheeks round, "that's a good idea."

He glances over the shelf and you wait patiently. He turns back to you, his eyes flitting over your name tag as he reads it out, "do you have a suggestion?"

"Me?" You perk up, "well, I actually like the Coach. It's not too expensive and it's nice and subtle."

"Is that what you wear?" He asks.

"I don't... I use some cherry blossom body spray but I usually smell like the whole store by the end of the day," you shrug.

"Cherry blossom," he nods, "oh, by the way, I'm Andy."

He offers his hand in an overly formal way. You giggle but take it nonetheless. You don't really get that often.

"Sorry," he squeezes your hand firmly before letting go, "lawyer, habit."

"No, it's fine," you assure him, "I'm just a perfume salesman, is all."

"Well, you're really good at your job," he praises.

"How do you know?" You say.

"You're friendly and helpful. I have no complaints," he reaches past you and claims the Coach pack, "she's going to love this. I owe you."

"No problem. Do you need me to ring you up?"

"Actually," he sighs, "she has this idea. Christmas card. I'm supposed to find a sweater. So, I need to look around some more."

"Oh, that's so cool. A Christmas card? The sweaters are just over in the men's, right near the east entrance," you point, "they have some really cute Charlie Brown ones."

"Charlie Brown," he repeats.

"Anyway, I'll let you go," you clutch your hands together, "I hope your wife likes the perfume."

"I'm sure she will," he agrees, hesitantly clapping the kit between his hands, "uh, thanks. Again." He leans back on his heel, "oh and, that's a really nice colour on you."

"Uh," you look down at your gem green blouse, "thank you, sir."

"Andy," he insists, walking backwards, "again, you're a life saver."

You grin proudly and he spins on his heel, nearly knocking into Luanne as she comes over. He apologises as he side steps her and continues on. She gives you a strange look.

"Geez," she grumbles, "people. This time of year makes everyone so crazy."

"Well, he was nice," you say.

"Kinda cute, too," she intones.

"He was shopping for his wife."

"Lucky lady," she scoffs, "so, you wanna go on lunch first? I'm dying for a latte."

"You can go, I don't mind," you say, "I'm not very hungry."

"Deal," she winks, "I'll get you a hot chocolate for your trouble."

"You don't have to do that."

"I don't have to, I want to, sweetie," she preens.

"Fine, fine, I accept your coerced hot chocolate.”

🎀

Another day close to complete. It's like checking off items on a list. Each evening seems to darken sooner than the last, every morning rising too soon.

You yawn at the empty fragrance section as it’s only you left for the last hour. There isn't much to do except balance the till. Your headset keeps you entertained as electronics calls out possible shrink and home goods argue about their numbers.

“We need a body at returns,” Lucille cuts through the chatter. “Now.”

No answer comes and you slowly slide your hand up the wire. Before you can hit the button, your name is snarled from the other end. You're ordered up to cash to assist with the hordes.

You leave the ghost town that is beauty and as good as skip up to the front. You calm your step as you see Lucille sneering at you from behind a machine. You give a tiny smile and claim the extra screen behind returns.

“I can help the next person,” you call and wave your hand in the air.

You stand back and wait for your first customer. A man comes up and throws a torn open package on the counter, the item bouncing out of the plastic. You flinch and barely catch it before it can slide off the other edge.

“Hello, sir,” you bat your lashes, “how are you today?”

“Not fucking well,” the man snarls. His mustache tickles your memory; do you know him? “It’s a piece of shit.”

“Oh, okay,” you look down at the trimmer and examine it, “you’d like to do a return?”

“Yes, I’d like to do a return,” he snaps, “are you dim?”

“Of course, sir,” you punch in your ID and passcode, “I’ll just get you going. Do you have your receipt?”

“A receipt? I bought the damn thing here, look it up.”

“Ah, alright, when did you buy it?”

“You don’t remember, little trigger finger,” he sneers.

“What do you mean?”

“Pfft, right, you think spraying people with skunk spray is fun?”

“Um, no?” Your cheeks tremor as you withhold a frown; you think you know him now as you’re hit by a sudden wave of Gucci cologne, the scent of a memory. “Did you have the card you purchased this with?”

“You don’t think I have money?”

Everything he says is aggressive. Your questions bounce off him like accusations. You don’t know what to say that won’t agitate him further, He huffs and kicks a foot out, leaning on his back heel as he reaches in his back pocket.

He flicks a black card onto the counter, “put it back on this.”

You nod and take the card, examining the nameless front. You turn it over and swipe it in the machine instead to search the number. He scoffs, “bet you never seen one of those up close.”

“Sir,” you smile bigger, letting the insult ping off of you. All the money in the world and he has no manners.

You find the purchase with the same sku and put his card back on the counter. He snatches it up as you start the return. You scan the barcode and continue on to the next screen, “what’s your name, sir?”

“Lloyd,” he answers curtly. You type, waiting, then look up at him, “Hansen.” He finishes sharply, “with an E, got it?”

“Yes, sir, and the reason for return?”

He rolls his eyes, “it doesn’t fucking work.”

“Alright. So it doesn’t cut the hair or–”

“It won’t turn on,” he growls.

“Right,” you take the trimmer and turn it over. It looks fine enough, even after he threw it. You slip the door of the battery compartment off. It’s empty, “and you had double As in it?”

“Double As?” He repeats.

“It needs batteries, sir.”

He pauses, eyes flaring, nostrils flaring.

“You think I’m stupid? That I don’t fucking know that? You’re not getting free fucking batteries from me.”

“Of course, sir, of course,” you rarely feel this addled, even this time of year, “I’ll get you your money back on a gift card–”

“Gift card? I want my money,” he holds up his card between two fingers.

“Yes, sir, I understand. As per our return policy, personal care items, once opened, are only eligible for a store credit return. Or you can exchange for another item. Would you like to look at our other trimmers? I can put this aside while–”

“What? How would I know that?” He hisses.

“It says on the receipt, sir.”

“I don’t have the goddamn receipt,” he barks.

“I know, sir, sorry. I can only refund this amount on a gift card. I can’t override the option.”

“I want a manager. NOW!” He demands as you jump in your shoes.

“I… I’ll see if she’s avail–”

Lucille has you jumping even more as she appears beside you, no doubt drawn by the raging man in front of you. She elbows you out of the way, not even acknowledging you as she puts on her mask. She leans on the counter just slightly.

“Sir, is there something I can help with? I’m the manager,” she says.

“I want my money,” he echoes once more. “I bought a defective product and I don’t want store credit. I drove out here twice for this bullshit.”

“Oh, certainly sir,” she brushes you with her hip, further edging you out, “right back on that black card, right?”

She scans her keycard, overriding the safeguard, and proceeds to the refund screen.

“Yes, exactly,” he snorts, “not like I don’t have even more money to spend here. Even if the customer service is lacking.”

You back away, unsure what to do. Do you just stand there for the transaction or do you go back to your department? You twiddle your fingers and bob on your heels.

Your eyes meet that man’s and he smirks smugly, wiggly his credit card at you. It’s fine, you won’t let him ruin your day. He’s already ruined his own getting so worked up.

🎀

It’s another busy shift. Your hot chocolate has gone cold from your neglect and you long to sneak away and shove it in the break room microwave. You can’t mourn the lukewarm drink as the line before you stretches on. You’re only a week from Christmas.

You finish wrapping the Prada bottle and hand it over the iron-haired woman with her cute curls. You wish her a good day as she waddles off. The next customer comes up, slamming down a cup so hard, the foam of the drink spits through the slot in the lid.

“Hello, sir,” you croon, “how are you today?”

“Here for a pickup,” he ignores your question.

“Right, can I get a name?”

“Why?” He challenges.

“For… for the package,” you sputter.

“Oh, uh, Drysdale,” he sniffs.

“I saw that earlier. I’m the one who called,” you brighten up.

“So you’re the annoying songbird,” he grabs his drink again, “took you fucking long enough. Line’s a mile long.”

“It’s very busy, yes. Everyone’s catching up on their Christmas shopping,” you bounce, “are you almost done yours?”

“Yeah, I bought myself cologne. So, chop chop, sweetheart.”

You nod and quickly spin. People get so impatient. You go into the small back room housed behind the shelves of lockup and you search the shelves. Drysdale. You pluck up the box and hurry back out.

“Right here,” you announce, “I have good news, too.”

“Tell me you’re gonna stop yammering,” he snickers.

“Um, no, the uh… the cologne is currently on markdown so I can do a price match and give you your money back.”

“Why would you do that?” He asks.

“Er, because… it’s policy?”

“You think I can’t afford it?”

“N-no, I didn’t say–”

“Look, I don’t need some department store busy bee to judge me, got it? This scarf costs more than your whole wardrobe,” he touches the patterned scarf around his neck.

“It’s a very nice scarf,” you agree.

He narrows his eyes, “you’re mocking me.”

You shake your head, “no, sir, I like the colours–”

“Give my goddamn package," he reaches and rips the box out of your hands, “and a tip, shut up and do your job. Maybe then you won’t have half the city waiting to get their shit.”

“Thanks,” you swallow down his anger. “Have a great day, sir.”

He doesn’t reply as he takes his cologne and storms away. You watch him and notice his cup still beside your till. It’s too late to call him back. You’ll just put it aside, you’re sure he’ll come back for it.

You move it to the other end of the counter and face the next customer, “hello, how are you?”

“Good,” the blonde woman answers with a gentle smile, “some people…” she tuts, “don’t let the grinches get to you, honey.”

“Thanks,” you feel the ice melt away, “I won’t.”

“Adorable cardigan,” she adds, “I really love the collar.”

“Oh, thank you,” you trill, “is this everything for today?” You gesture to the bottle of Calvin Klein on the counter.

“That will be it. And I’d love to have it gift-wrapped, thank you, hon.”

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mawofthemagnetar · 9 months

Text

Father's Day

“So, hold on a minute,” Iskall held his hands up, “back up, because I must have missed that. You’re a FATHER?”

“Well, yeah?” Jevin shrugged, scrolling through his comm, “What’s so hard about that to believe?”

Iskall, by way of a reply, simply gestured at Jevin’s person from his head to his slimy feet.

“So? Okay, yeah, I guess it- is a little hard to fathom. I do, uh, have a certain- aura of coolness around me. But yeah, no, I’m a dad. And a damn good one, too. I mean, a slime-dad, which is a little different than a regular dad. But for a slime-dad, I’m top-shelf. Of course.”

“Uh-huh. And how does a slime-dad differ from a regular dad?” Iskall folded his arms.

“I don’t gotta, uh, chase after my kids as much as you guys do. They’re pretty much ready to go once they hit full-size. I do my bit by checking up on them periodically. Anyway, point is, I gotta go. My kids are throwing a father’s day bash, and I can’t be late.”

Iskall rubbed his temples.

“Okay, couple questions. One, father’s day was three months ago. Two, is there a Missus Jevin you’ve got stashed away somewhere? Or a Mister Jevin? Or-“

“…Why would another person be involved?” Jevin asked, tilting his head with a squish of slime, “Like, literally, why? Who needs help to become a parent?”

“…Uh…you know what? No. You want to learn about the parrots and the bats, go talk to Keralis.”

“Sure, whatever. Anyway, to answer your second question, it’s ‘cause if you try to do father’s day on the actual, like, day, renting a big enough hall is stupid expensive and it’s all just kind of dumb. And a hassle. So we host it whenever.”

Jevin glanced up from his comm.

“Wanna come? Meet my kids, I mean.”

Iskall rubbed his forehead.

“Sure, why not. Hit me with it.”

They tapped their comms together, and Jevin clacked his jaw together- the slime equivalent of a smile.

“Okay, so uh…All my kids know you guys as their aunts and uncles. So if they start calling you “auntie Iskall-“

“-Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m used to it.” Iskall nodded, “Should I wear something special?”

Jevin waved a hand.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re fine as you are. Anyway, let’s go. Not good to keep my kids waiting!”

And Jevin tapped a few options on his comm and vanished.

Iskall shrugged, tapped over to his server list, and selected the option for the Hub, with the teleport coordinates visible in the centre.

He tapped it, and vanished.

When Iskall opened his eyes again, he was standing outside a colossal building, looking like some kind of conference centre. It was made of smooth quartz, with a fake parking lot full of fake vehicles that had clearly taken some builder a long time to put together.

Jevin was standing there, tapping his sneaker impatiently, the blue slime slosh-slosh-sloshing against the ground.

“Alright, c’mon, let’s get moving.” Jevin huffed, “We’re already a couple minutes late, and my kids worked really hard to put this on.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Iskall muttered, brushing off his pants and following Jevin towards the doors.

Iskall was assuming that Jevin’s family would have set up a few tables in a corner. He was a slime; and the way Jevin was talking, Iskall had assumed a big family. Maybe ten kids? That would be a pretty big family.

Then Jevin and Iskall stepped into the conference hall.

“HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD!”

Several thousand slimes bellowed all at once, a wall of sound so deafening that Iskall could feel his bionic eye nearly shake out of its housing.

He blinked his one eye, darting it around the room in shock. There were hundreds of small tables around which sat an unfathomable number of slimes in all colours of the rainbow. The room was a riot of wild fashion choices, and a deafening rumble of clattering bones and squelching bodies.

“I- I-” Iskall stammered, as he reached up and tightened the nut holding his robotic eye onto his skull’s mounting post.

“HEY EVERYONE!” Jevin shouted back, “THANK YOU!”

“Is that Uncle Iskall?” a deep voice said eagerly, “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“You have…THOUSANDS…of children. Not ten. Not twenty. Not even a hundred. THOUSANDS.” Iskall stammered.

“Yeah. I’m, uh, the father of all slime hybrids. It’s not a big deal, to be honest. Some other slime would’ve absorbed a skeleton and decided to think about itself if I hadn’t.” Jevin shrugged.

“All. Of them. ALL OF THEM.” Iskall clutched his head in his hands.

“Yeah? It’s not that difficult. You just, like, shed some slime on a large enough pile of biomass, it’ll grow into a kid. How is this so confusing for you? That’s probably where humans come from.” Jevin shrugged.

He rubbed his slimy hands together with a hideous squelch, and started traveling through the room, eagerly greeting each and every one of his kids.

Iskall staggered over to the snack table, piled high with compost, cinderblocks, and beer. He popped a bottle, and started chugging it.

#magnetar writes #Jevin Fic #Iskall fic #I've had this thing in my documents for about half a year and I finally polished it up #I hope you enjoy

551 notes · View notes

milfsloverblog · 1 year

Text

Secret Benefits (NSFW)

Part 3 (previous part here)

Sugar mommy!Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader

A/N: Listen, you guys know me, I just had to include some angst in this. So, tiny bit of angst in this chapter, and these two idiots are still convinced that the other one doesn’t want them. OH!! You can see edits I made of Larissa’s outfit in this chapter here. Thank you for the enthusiasm you all show for this fic. Enjoy! <3

You were putting your shoes on when your phone buzzed with an incoming text from Larissa.

I’m here. Xx

She was right on time, of course she was.

You had arranged that she would pick you up from your place at 3, and you would spend the afternoon getting spoiled by her.

You took a last look in the mirror, wondering if you should have opted for a lighter lipstick, not that you had enough time to change it anyway.

Larissa had told you to wear something comfortable, but not too comfortable. “A blouse and some black pants will do just right,” she’d said, and you had sent her a picture of the few blouses you owned, letting her pick the one she wanted you to wear.

Your jaw dropped when you stepped out of your flat and caught Larissa standing by her car, slightly leaning on it. She wore a suit this time, a deep burgundy suit that perfectly matched her lipstick, with a white shirt underneath. Her hair had been let down from its usual intricate updo, her silver curls falling on her shoulders and framing her soft, pale face. She was a vision, truly, and it made you stop functioning for a moment.

“Hello, darling.” Larissa flashed you a smile when you finally reached her.

“Hi, Larissa.” You smiled back, getting on your tiptoe to place a kiss on her cheek, feeling one of her hands on your waist as you did so.

She wore flats this time, and you found that she wasn’t that tall without her heels. She was still tall, sure, but it was perfect. She was the perfect height. She was perfect.

“Hop inside, sweetling,” she said as she pulled the car door open for you, letting you get inside.

The ride wasn’t too long, it was spent with her hand on your thigh as you told her about your week and how you nearly had an argument with your coworker when you’d asked to take the day off, making Larissa chuckle a little.

“You said you’ve never been to a place like this, right?” Larissa asked as she pushed the door to the shop open and followed you inside.

“Yeah, it definitely is a first.” You nodded, looking around at the mannequins.

A small brunette quickly made her way over to the both of you, flashing Larissa a wide smile.

“Miss Weems,” she said. “I hope you’re doing well. Would you require some help with your shopping today?”

Larissa looked down at you before looking back at the assistant.

“Thank you, Clarice, but it won’t be necessary. I will let you know if we ever need some assistance.” Larissa smiled and the brunette nodded before going back to where she had appeared from.

“Come,” Larissa said, leading you through the shop. “I was thinking, since this is your first time, that I will let you choose the sets you’d like to try on. I will, however, still pick a couple of things I’d like to see you wearing.”

You gave a nod, happy at the prospect that you’d have some free rein while still being under Larissa’s control.

She walked with you around the shop, giving you advice on which fabric was the softest, which lingerie would be better suited to wear for a whole day and which one would be better for special occasions.

It was almost hypnotising, listening to her talking so passionately about colours and fabric, watching her fingertips brushing the different sets as she spoke.

Larissa chose three pieces for you to try on. A white lace body and a sage bra and panties set. You personally picked a burgundy set, something that matched her outfit, and a royal blue one.

The woman showed you the way to the changing room, helping you carry the pieces you were to try on.

“Let me know what you think of them, will you?” She asked.

You nodded and smiled before closing the curtain and taking a deep breath.

Right, you thought, time to try on some lingerie while the hottest woman alive is waiting right outside.

You took your time undressing and trying on the first set, the blue one. It looked nice, but it wasn’t what you had expected when choosing it.

“I tried the blue set on,” you told Larissa. “It’s beautiful, but not on me.”

Larissa’s eyebrows knitted. Not beautiful on you, what did that even mean? If only she could see you, see what you meant by “not on me”. But alas…

A couple of minutes went by without another word from you until you let out a frustrated groan.

“Larissa?” You called, getting a soft hum in answer. “I can’t close the button at the back all by myself, could you maybe…”

Larissa straightened her shoulders before pushing the curtain aside, just enough to slip herself inside the changing room.

You were trying on the white body she had picked for you, your hands desperately reaching back to close the button.

“Let me,” she said gently, her fingers brushing against the skin of your back as she buttoned the body shut.

Larissa took a step back once it was done, watching as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You felt a little unconscious as you spun on your heels to show her the result. She had picked this model, after all, you thought she’d like to see what it looked like on you.

The tall woman’s breath hitched as she watched you turn around. She had picked the perfect model for you.

“May I?” She asked, lifting her hand and reaching out when you nodded your approval.

“Here,” Larissa said, gently pulling on the lace that covered your left breast and making sure it lay flat against your skin.

Your eyes never left her face as she did so, not even when her fingers brushed against the swell of your left breast and made you shiver.

She looked beautiful, she looked passionate, but there was something else there too, hidden deep inside her blue eyes. Something more primal, something the lion felt when the antelope stepped too close to it.

“Beautiful,” Larissa whispered under her breath. “It’s a beautiful piece, I suggest you get this one. But the choice is all yours today, enjoy it while it lasts.” She winked and took a last up-and-down look at you before stepping out of the changing room.

Another moment went by where you let Larissa know that the sage set, as pretty as it was, simply wasn’t your colour.

You tried the burgundy set last, smiling as you looked at your reflection. It looked great on you, and the thought of wearing underwear that matched Larissa’s outfit was arousing in more ways than one.

You took a deep breath and brushed your fingertips on your breasts, closing your eyes as you imagined them to be someone else’s fingers.

Larissa walked back and forth in front of the closed curtain while you changed back into your clothes. She had managed to steady her heartbeat, taking a couple more deep breaths to fully relax herself.

She was about to take another step when she noticed that the curtain wasn’t properly closed. She didn’t think twice as she reached up and grabbed a handful of the velvety fabric to close it, only to unintentionally catch a glimpse of you inside the changing room.

If Larissa’s heartbeat had successfully steadied previously, it felt like it had completely stopped as her eyes landed on you. It only took less than a second for her brain to register what you were doing with one of your hands splayed on the wall while the other one busied itself between your legs.

Larissa held her breath, her mouth falling slightly open as she watched you. This was better than anything she had imagined when touching herself and thinking of you. She watched for what seemed to be hours, her eyes never leaving your face, wishing to memorise every single one of your expressions.

She wanted to see you climax, she craved to know the face you’d make as you’d reach your peak, if your knees would buckle and if you’d keep touching yourself to overstimulation.

Larissa, the little voice tugged at the back of her mind. Larissa, you shouldn’t. Larissa… Larissa!

The tall woman jumped and quickly shut the heavy curtain, her knuckles turning white as she kept tightly holding onto the fabric.

Larissa closed her eyes, her head hanging low as she let go of the curtain. She hated it. Not the fact that she had caught you masturbating, no. She hated the nagging feeling in her chest, one that she knew all too well.

She remembered feeling that nagging thing for the first time as a teenager when Morticia had started getting closer to Gomez and more distant from her.

That nagging feeling had grown and grown and grown until it had seeped through the cracks of Larissa’s heart and filled her whole body.

She hadn’t been able to properly control her shapeshifting abilities back then, and so she had woken up one day with her skin tinted a deep grassy green. She had hidden in her room for a couple of days, spending hours scrubbing at her skin in the shower only to burst into tears of frustration when nothing helped.

There was nothing she could do about it, Larissa had literally turned green with jealousy.

And she felt it again, as she took a step back from the changing room, that awful nagging pull in her heart.

She was buying you lingerie, beautiful silk and lace that you would wear for someone else. For the person you were thinking about right then with your hand between your legs, the one who would get to peel those expensive pieces off your body.

And it made Larissa sick with envy. She was sure that hadn’t she been able to control herself, she would have turned green again.

If she only had watched you for a moment longer, Larissa would have caught her name slipping from your mouth barely audibly as your thighs clenched around your hand, a strong orgasm washing over you.

It took you a few minutes to fully get down from your high, your cheeks burning in embarrassment as you realised what you had done. Anyone could have caught you. A shop assistant, a customer, Larissa. That last thought made you shiver, you would have died on the spot if the older woman had caught you masturbating.

You quickly got dressed and picked two sets from the ones you had tried on, the burgundy one that matched Larissa’s suit and the white one she seemed to have loved on you.

“Larissa,” you said as you walked out of the changing room carrying the lingerie.

The woman looked up and you could immediately tell that something had happened. She did push a smile, but it wasn’t quite right, it didn’t reach her eyes like it usually did.

“Did you make your choice, darling?” She asked, looking at the pieces in your hands.

“Yes, yes. I like these the most.” You raised your right hand to show her the ones you’d want to keep, earning a nod from the older woman.

“Larissa, is everything alright? You seem a bit-“ your question was interrupted by the same shop assistant from earlier asking you if you had found anything to your liking. You showed her the sets you’d like to keep and handed them to her so she could take them to the till.

Larissa’s hand fell on the small of your back and she guided you to follow the shop assistant. She was quiet, awfully quiet as she pulled her Visa card from her handbag and paid for your items. And still awfully quiet as you both walked out of the shop and back towards her car.

She took the bag from your hand and placed it in the trunk of her car before opening the passenger door for you, only closing it once you were comfortably seated.

You didn’t know what it was exactly, but you could feel the bad energy oozing from Larissa as she sat down by your side. Something had happened, that much was clear, and you feared it was somehow your fault.

A few minutes passed where both of you remained silent, Larissa’s eyes never leaving the road. She stopped at a traffic light and your gaze fell on her hand holding the gear lever, noticing the death grip that she had on it.

“Larissa,” you whispered, your fingers gently wrapping around hers on the lever. The small gesture seemed to be enough to snap the woman out of her trance, her head turning so she could look at you.

“I’m sorry, darling. I’ve lost myself in my thoughts again.” She pushed a small smile, one that looked more sincere than the previous one. “Did you have fun today?”

“I did, I enjoyed every second of it,” you said sincerely, your thumb gently brushing her fingers. “And I don’t want it to end now.” You admitted.

Larissa looked at you for a moment, her sapphire eyes boring into yours.

Is that really all there is to it? She wanted to ask. Are you just company to me and am I just easy money to you?

“We’ll have dinner,” she said, looking back to the road when the light turned green.

“Dinner sounds perfect. Where are you taking me?”

“The Paragon.” She answered without thinking twice.

You noticed the quick look she gave to your outfit, making you shuffle in your seat.

“If my outfit isn’t appropriate for the place you’re taking me to, we could drop by my house and I’ll wear the dress you bought for our first date.”

Date, the word echoed through Larissa’s mind.

“Get in the backseat,” Larissa said, a little authoritatively almost like a teacher would.

“Sorry?” You shook your head, watching as she parked the car.

“Get in the backseat, there’s a shopping bag. Something I bought for you a few days ago and wanted to make you wear on our next…rendezvous.” She explained.

You gave a quick nod and stepped out of the car to quickly get in the backseat.

“Vivienne Westwood?” You raised an eyebrow. Even someone who didn’t know much about fashion would know about Vivienne Westwood.

“Yes, she used to be one of my favourites when I was younger,” Larissa said, turning the engine back on to drive away. “But I’ve become more reasonable now.”

You opened the bag and pulled out the piece of clothing, a long black dress with long sleeves and white patterns.

“It should fit with your flats.” She said, looking at you in the rear-view mirror.

“I absolutely love it, thank you, Larissa.” You smiled and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, earning yourself a smile from the woman.

“Get changed,” she said. “We’ll be at the restaurant in about twenty minutes.”

“Here?” You frowned.

“Well, yes, here.” Larissa chuckled as if it was the most evident thing ever. “The windows are tinted, no one can see you from the outside.”

But you can, you thought.

“I won’t look.” She added as if she could read your mind.

You stayed still for a moment but eventually gave a nod before starting to unbutton your blouse.

Larissa kept her eyes on the road as much as she possibly could, her knuckles once again turning white as she gripped the steering wheel. She could see you peeling off your clothes in the rear-view mirror from the corner of her eyes. She had to refrain from stealing a few glances, biting onto the inside of her cheeks to keep herself focused.

“Your underwear too,” Larissa said, a little too strictly which made you jump.

“I thought you weren’t looking!”

“And I’m not. But the bag is in the trunk, so I know you haven’t changed that. Pull on the middle seat and reach for the bag. I want you to wear the burgundy one.”

“Oh, wanting to match?” You teased a little, pulling on the middle seat once you had gotten rid of your bra and panties.

Larissa allowed herself one glance then, only one. She was greeted by the expanse of your naked back flexing as your arm reached inside the trunk for the shopping bag.

Her eyes snapped back to the road when you straightened up, but not before she could catch a glimpse of your side boob, her tongue instinctively darting out to wet her lips.

“You can look now,” you said once you had put the lingerie on. It wasn’t anything that Larissa hadn’t already seen.

Larissa waited a short moment before looking in the mirror, not wanting to appear too eager to watch you.

You put the dress on, muttering under your breath as you struggled with the zipper for a moment, making Larissa chuckle softly.

“We’ve arrived,” she said, parking the car in front of the restaurant just as you managed to zip the dress up.

Larissa stepped out of the car and opened the back door, offering you her hand to help you out of the car which you gladly took.

“You look beautiful,” she said, looking you up and down. “It suits you. I thought it might be a bit too long, but it’s perfect.”

“You look beautiful too,” You said, squeezing Larissa’s hand.

The older woman looked taken aback by the compliment, so much so that it made you wonder if it was a rare occurrence for her.

“You do!” You reassured her, grinning from ear to ear. “Thank you for the dress and the lingerie. I’ll wear it thinking of you.”

Larissa's body moved automatically, her hand cupping your cheek as she stepped forward, trapping you between the car and herself.

I’ll wear it thinking of you, your voice sounded in her head. Do you have any idea what you do to me, she wanted to ask. Do you have any idea what you do to me?

“Larissa,” you whispered, taking hold of the hand that was cupping your cheek and kissing its palm, successfully snapping your companion out of her thoughts. The heat emanating from her body mixed with her perfume was unbearable, you needed her to step away before you did something you would regret.

“I’m sorry, sweetling,” she said, taking a step back and pulling her hand away from you.

Your chest was heaving up and down, Larissa noticed. Had she scared you? She hoped she hadn’t. She needed to get a grip on herself and control those…urges.

She doesn’t want you, told the little voice at the back of her mind. Stick that in your brain, Larissa. She doesn’t want you like that.

And she tried, Larissa really tried to get that into her brain. But as you walked inside the restaurant together and you slipped your hand in hers, letting your fingers interlace, she couldn’t help but wonder - what if?

————————————————————————

Taglist: @raspburrythief @weemssapphic @readingtheentrails @larissaoftarthweems @principal-weems09 @kimiinou @winterfireblond @im-a-carnivorous-plant @geekyarmorel @h-doodles @azu-zu @barbarasstar @witchesmortuary @vigelvictoria @m1lflov3rrr @dumbasslesbi @crow-raven-crow @fridays-coven @lilfartbox1 @shawncantwrite @autumn-leaves-chasing-breeze @gwens0girl @aemilia19 @the-bagel24 @lvinhs @thefutureisus2020 @gela123 @a-queen-and-her-throne @rando-mango @wheresmyboo @my-silver-spring @hillary-nicks @ablsk @natasha29romanoff @tallvampirelady12 @canyoufeelmyheartsayinghi @moonyboyjay @i-love-nerdy-stuff @1-800-milfdilf @musicallovinggal @scarlettssub @jasperobsidian-blog @i-write-sometimes-maybe @brienne-the-brave @slytherinthepms @non-binary-frogking @wife-of-gwendolinechristie @anjo-iludidoefudido @imnotafruitt @opheliauniverse

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #no beta we die like larissa #principal weems #larissa weems x y/n #secret benefits

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afkenma · 4 months

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sleep your peace — tsukisima.k

gn Reader X Tsukishima Kei

A/N: AAAHH this is my first time writing outside of school, so I thought I’d start with one of my favorite tropes. it’s pretty mushy and gross, but hopefully I’ll get better at this soon!! I also made the situation slightly unclear because I had no idea what specifics to add, my bad :)

tsukishima kei could only be an astute observer of how tired you were tonight; bleary eyes blinking slowly, hand motions translating into visual gibberish that wouldn’t help explain the confused, disheveled responses you gave to each new development in a crime show he’d been talking to you about. you had stayed up much longer than you should have the night before on homework you should’ve completed much earlier, and it drained all the energy you should have saved for this pre-mediated sleepover. you constantly took sips of energy drinks you didn’t like but bought anyways earlier today just to keep awake a little longer. this wasn’t a classroom, so why couldn’t you look away from the clock, doting on a comfortable time to suggest sleeping?

tsukishima knew he was talking to a wall, and even his words were out of focus. it was much easier to stare at your tired head resting on the bedframe than anything else, and it was so much easier to get lost in the small details he wouldn’t normally gaze at you long at you enough to notice: the skin on your face wasn’t uniform in colour, strands of your hair had fallen down to your face, and your lips were slighly chapped and pale, and it was all so beautiful. he noticed he’d been staring early into the night but gave up on trying to avoid your face, especially since the rest of the room had never looked so plain.

painfully embarrassed after replacing a character’s name with yours for the third time, he abruptly excuses himself to get water for the both of you, which you don’t mind. you’re left alone to quietly stare at all the different decorations on his walls, like the figurines of dinosaurs clustered together on a shelf, or the abundance of old movie posters and coloured food advertisements pasted onto the corner opposite. there are some bright sticky-notes with writing you just can’t see from the position your in right now, so you hazily shift around his bed to take a better look, but slowly curl up into a ball as the sweeter arms of sleep ultimately draw you closer and closer.

two glasses of water enter the room soon after, along with a sleepy, calm blonde who’s staring between his love softly snoring on his bed, and the silly post-it notes you’d given him with small hearts and doodles. he internally scoffed over how dumb he must’ve been to forget hiding it before inviting you over, but can’t ignore the overwhelming heat blooming on his cheeks. he stares back over at you. your back was arched inwardly and you were loosely hugging your knees towards you, and your face showed the slight discomfort and cold you were sleeping through. muttering out a breathy complaint, he takes you into his arms like a child. your body stayed limp, barely hugging onto his back as he straighten out his bedding with his free hand, and cautiously tucked you under warmer blankets.

you let out hearty exhales as you unconsciously snuggled deeper into bed, and tsukisima felt overbearing tides of raw fondness crash through him, a euphoric step deeper into his love. it took a couple moments to regain composure and sense of reality, and a nagging part of him cringed at being smitten for a sleeping beauty. he slowly dragged his eyes away from you to quickly stack up the items on his desk into a large pile on the side, before power-walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth before closing the door, turning of the light-switch and carefully seeping into the bed with you.

with his glasses off and barely adjusted to the darkness, he squints in a struggle to see your figure hunched over and facing the opposite direction, which was annoying him. if only he had positioned you facing towards him. that way, he might’ve been able to pine over you just a little longer, but alas. there’s always tomorrow morning, and the day that’ll ensue, and then the many days later because your his lover and he’s yours and all he can think about now is how calming your ambiance is. your presence is peaceful, and it forces even an arrogant jerk like him to lower his guard and feel it, so sleep your peace.

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xxblairexxss · 1 year

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Prime

Pairing : Jude Bellingham x reader

Theme : Fluff

Got this idea from those tiktok videos of him playing football with a group of kids. You probably know which one I’m talking about if you stumbled across one. Haven’t proofread! Sorry for any mistakes.

Jude was like your mom’s favourite child. She was eternally grateful for her lovely daughters but when you introduced your boyfriend to the family, you knew she had put him above you and your sisters. Your dad was a huge fan of football and he thought you were joking when you told him you were dating Dortmund player so of course when Jude first joined your family’s dinner, your dad was elated that you thought he would have forgotten about you if it wasn’t for your constant glare at him.

Since then, Jude always got invited to any family events of yours, just like how he always invited you to his family events.

judebellingham has added to their story

Your nephew, Noah was obsessed with football. Guess it ran in the family because of how the obsession went from your dad to Noah. Different from you, who barely knew anything about it. Noah had asked you a week prior if Jude was gonna come to the housewarming party but when you asked why he was so eager to know, he said it was secret. Turned out he wanted to ask Jude to play football with him because he got a proper football ball from his birthday last month.

You were in the kitchen, taking over the duty to cut the fruits so your sister could sneaked out to the nearby store to get some more ingredients for roasted garlic hummus with her husband. You were left with Jude and the kids as your parents are yet to arrived.

You were decorating the plate with the colourful fruits when you felt a sudden impact on your side. It was Noah, who was suddenly crying and hugging on your legs. Confused, you bent down and wiped the fresh tears on his cheek as he pulled away.

“What’s wrong? Did you fell?”

“No…”

“Why did you cry?”

“Jude wouldn’t give the ball back…”

“What…?”

That was when you saw Jude walked in with Noel, Noah’s baby brother.

“Jude Victor William Bellingham! Did you seriously make my nephew cry?”

“I didn’t! He asked me to play like I was in a match.”

“You are so silly! He’s not prime Lewandowski, is he?”

He chuckled in response before leaving a peck on your lips and squatted down to be on the same level with Noah, who was now refused to look at him.

“I’m sorry, buddy. Let’s do another round, yeah? You’ll be in the same team with Noel and I can only play with one leg, how about that?”

Noah responded with an immediate “Okay!” and a wide grin as he ran to Noel to pull him outside. You could see the little one waddled trying to catch on his brother.

Jude stood back up and pulled you closer by your waist. He found you so adorable when you were still frowning at him that he wanted to just planted kisses all over your beautiful face.

“I’m sorry, princess. I swear I didn’t mean it. Anyway, I didn’t know you actually have some basic football knowledge. I thought you don’t know any other players except me. That was kinda hot, not gonna lie.” He bended down his head to kiss on your exposed shoulder blade from your off shoulder crop top, pressing his body against yours even more.

“Well, I’m actually a barca girl.”

Jude tilted your chin up as he brushed his lips against yours before nibbling softy on your bottom lips.

“Shut up, you’re my girl.”

“Jude, come on!” You heard Noah called out for him from the backyard, probably getting annoyed at how long he was taking his time.

“Coming!” He pulled away and strode across the living room to the kids, leaving you with butterflies in your stomach, even after all these years.

#football imagine #jude bellingham fics #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #football imagines #football fics

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ghcstao3 · 5 months

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part 3 of siren/sailor ghoap hehehehe (part 2 🧜‍♂️)

Despite his gripes and discomfort, Soap does eventually drift to sleep before his chest begins to feel too tight, his breaths too short.

Then he’s rudely awoken by a large splash, drenching him even more so than he already was. He sits up in a flash, already glaring daggers at the water before he can make out the silhouette of Ghost’s head.

Soap curses under his breath, wiping excess water from his face and slicking his hair back from where it sticks to his forehead.

“I found somewhere,” Ghost announces.

At least Soap could appreciate his bluntness.

“Did you?” Soap grumbles. He’s found his fear of Ghost has diminished significantly, instead replaced with irritation. He figures it’s the cold and wet having finally seeped past his skin and into his bones. “And how do you suppose I’m getting there?”

“I’ll take you,” Ghost says, as if it weren’t obvious. “Come closer.”

Soap’s heartbeat ticks up in pace. He slowly tucks his outstretched legs closer to his body, though he’s still too far for Ghost to reach. Soap shakes his head. “You are going to eat me, aren’t you?”

“No.”

Soap sniffles. “I don’t believe you.”

Ghost huffs. Soap can sense the eye roll, whether or not the siren actually does so.

“Come on,” Ghost coaxes. There’s a slightly singsong, melodic quality, even for such two little words, but it’s enough to give a single tug on Soap’s heart the same way Ghost’s singing had in the rowboat.

“Cheater,” Soap scoffs, yet he still finds himself slowly unfurling his limbs.

Ghost hums to the same effect, even so daring as to swim right up to where the stone meets the water, folding his arms over the edge—all a mirror for the way he lured Soap in the first time.

But this time—this time, though still menacing in the way that it’s all his nature allows, Ghost is… teasing.

So, with a sigh and nothing better to do, nowhere to go, and already waiting for death, Soap relents. He crawls forward toward the water, mindful of the sharp angles of the cave’s formation, his palms surely to be scraped up anyway, if only from the commotion that had led him up until this point.

He creeps forward until he’s about a foot away from the siren. Squinting into the dark, Soap can almost make out those damp, blond curls. He doesn’t much like the glint in Ghost’s dark eyes, however.

“I said come closer,” Ghost insists.

“I am closer,” Soap argues.

Ghost beckons him even still. It isn’t until Soap is reluctantly face-to-face with the siren that Ghost appears satisfied.

Then Ghost is pushing himself out of the water, inching impossibly closer and closer, until—

Until he’s kissing Soap?

Soap gives a startled yelp, unable to pull away before webbed hands have latched onto the sides of his face. The siren persists even when Soap isn’t really kissing back—though Soap doesn’t realize he’s being pulled into the water until he feels a shock of cold on his face.

But again Ghost won’t let go, his lips still firmly pressed to Soap’s. Soap panics, trying to pull back but finding it impossible once he’s been dragged completely into the depths. He thrashes in the water, but Ghost remains entirely undeterred, his hold on Soap ironclad.

Then… then Soap realizes—his chest never constricts, his lungs never fill with water. Despite the rapid pace of his heart beating in his ears, it’s almost like… it’s almost like he can breathe.

His realization must be evident, as that’s when Ghost finally pulls away, that sharp grin appearing on his face. He lets go of Soap’s face and instead seizes his wrist before he’s propelling them through the water with his powerful tail.

It’s much different, being towed along while conscious. When light finally streams back into Soap’s vision, he finds himself entranced by the colourful fish they pass, the seaweed and the reefs, almost entirely forgetting the creature attached to him in his passing amazement.

Almost.

Every so often the scales or fins of Ghost’s tail will brush against Soap, and every so often he’ll be snapped back to his reality—abandoned by civilization, held captive by a sea creature who insists Soap isn’t food, but does so with a mouth full of sharp teeth.

Eventually, though, when Soap finally catches a glimpse of the sun, relief floods him. He gets to see daylight again, feel the warmth on his skin, and that thought alone is enough to calm him if only for a moment.

When they arrive to shallow water, Ghost suddenly stops swimming. Soap looks to him, confused, then glances down and realizes he could touch sand from where they float—it’d be too difficult for Ghost to continue.

The siren’s hold releases and Soap finally breaks the ocean’s surface, drinking in a mouthful of fresh air as if he hadn’t been able to within the water with whatever magic that kiss had held. He climbs to his feet, the water still up to his chest, and begins to wade onward to where Ghost has brought him—a small island, lush with trees but with a beach where Soap could dry in the sun, abandoned and isolated from everything.

While it may be far from any other person, at least here Soap wouldn’t have to worry about suffocating or starving for at least a little while longer as he perhaps devised a plan for his rescue.

He glances back at Ghost as he makes his way to the island, the siren never moving from where he peers out of the water, watching Soap. Every time Soap glances back, he never shifts.

When Soap is finally clambering onto dry sand, however, Ghost is gone.

Soap doesn’t suppose that the distant pang in his heart, his soul is disappointment. Why would it be? Why should it be?

Yet as his skin and hair and clothes slowly dry, Soap finds himself constantly looking back out at the ocean, at that spot, wondering if he’d ever catch another glimpse of the siren who ultimately had, as promised, not eaten him.

#siren!ghost arc is just scary monster to Creachur™️#what having a crush on a human will do to you #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe #writing

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imaginingmanyfandoms · 12 days

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By the fire | Embry Call

a/n: this one got away from me, but i LOVE it.

request; Can you do Embry X reader where he bumps into Her and imprints but is too scared to tell her because he soon has to tell reader about the pack and doesn't want to hurt reader so Kim asks reader to lunch. You can choose the other details

warnings; i dont think any <3

EMBRY;

He couldn't believe it.

He hadn't seen you since you'd gone to Forks high school, but you'd always been around, right? Right? He suddenly couldn't remember.

Embry'd bumped into you, literally bumped - as he was walking backwards in his mom's store, goofing with Jared and Quil about... he didn't even remember what - when he knocked into you. You'd been talking to his mom, when he knocked something right out of your hands. Quil and Jared had continued laughing, but when he caught your eye, nothing was funny.

Nothing was funny but everything was beautiful. He'd never noticed the colour of your eyes, the depths they held, the secrets they told. He never noticed the way you tilt your head slightly when looking at something. He felt a knot tie around his heart, felt it beat rapidly against the tight coils. Gravity shifted, planets moved, the stars changed, all of it a map leading him to you.

"I'm sorry," he choked out, trying to pick up the little figurine that fell at the same time as you, when you both reached for it, your hands touched, and he felt electricity shock all the way up to his elbow. "I'm sorry," he repeated, moving his hand for the trinket, picking it up and handing it to you. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," you said, smiling, "no harm no foul."

Your smile made his stomach drop like he was on a rollercoaster, you were so beautiful, he wanted to pull you close and never let go. Wanted to protect you from anyone that may cause you harm. wanted to make sure you were always happy, always warm, always comfortable.

You made the world turn.

"Are you okay?" you asked, "you kinda look like you're gunna throw up."

"Never better," he said quietly, mustering up a weak smile.

He was filled with excitement and anxiety. Suddenly riddled with worry and doubt, and just genuine concern for you. Were you dating anyone? What were your friends like? What were your hobbies?"

"Anyway," his mom, Tiffany said, breaking his stare from you, "you're hired, I'll let the owners know."

"Really? We never even had an interview," you said, smiling widely.

"I feel good about it, I can see the good in you," she winked at embry, "Can you start on the weekend?"

"Yeah of course! I'll see you then!"

Tiffany left then, someone else trying to check out at the register. You turned back to Embry, smile wild and genuinely. His heart could've melted than and there.

"What luck," you said, hitting him with your elbow playfully, "you might be my good luck charm."

Quil and Jared were still in the store, pretending to be interesting in some wooden figurines on the shelf, but were also clearly trying to sneak peeks at the two of you. Embry tried to subtly shoo them away, but they just pretended not to see.

"I have to get going," he said, ending the conversation. He noticed the disappointment on your face, and he felt bad. You would've been feeling everything that he was feeling, but you wouldn't understand. Or did you? He didn't know, did you feel your soul change? Your priorities shift? Did you feel different down to the core, like he did?

"Oh, okay, yeah," you smiled, "maybe i'll see you around?"

"You will," he said, resisting the urge to lean forward and touch you, brush your hair behind your ears. Instead he clenched his fists, leaving them dangling by his side. "I know where you are." He stuttered when you looked confused, "work! where you work i meant..." Jared snorted behind him, trying his hardest not to laugh.

"I'll see you later embry," you laughed, waving goodbye to Tiffany and leaving the store he watched as you lifted your hood up, sheilding from the light rain and left the beach.

"She knows my name," he said, goofy grin on his face.

"You're an idiot," Jared laughed, "I know where you are??? No game whatsoever."

"Shut up," Quil said, elbowing him. "He was nervous."

"What do I do?" Embry asked, feeling lost. You weren't anywhere near this, he shouldn't bring you into this, right? Wouldn't bringing you into this life be more dangerous?

"What do you mean? protect her, I don't know, hangout with her?" Jared said, "it's kind of self explanatory."

YOU;

What a weird morning. First, you're walking down First Beach which you haven't done in who knows how long, and you see the souvenirs shop and a 'now hiring' sign in the window - which never happens because the last person they hired was Tiffany Call and that was over ten years ago, so you decided to go in. And when you're talking to Tiffany about applying, her son, Embry, who you haven't seen in years bumps into you and... and suddenly nothing made any sense at all.

You thought you had it all figured out, wanted a quiet life in the woods. had no real desire to leave this small town - and then suddenly, you didn't know anything. Didn't what you wanted, or with who... like you locked eyes with this boy and the axis your world revolved around just... changed. There was something new, a feeling you didn't understand, a feeling you wanted to run towards, and away from. Wanted to push, and pull.

Walking home from the gift shop that day was otherworldly. You wanted to be around Embry again, not to be creepy you just... you wanted him around. Felt like maybe he had a place in your life. But you hadn't really seen him around much... and it sounds creepy but you kinda thought, well, it seemed like you always kind of felt like he was around. In the dead of the night, with a sky full of stars, you would think - maybe it's crazy - but you would swear he was nearby.

But you hadn't seen him, and you had no other reason to think he was around except for an inkling, a tingle that said, 'oh good, he's here.' It helped you sleep. Made you feel comfortable.

That was nearly a week ago, and now you were reading a book, sitting as comfortably as you could on the plastic chair behind the register of the shop, waiting for anyone to need you or ask for help, but it'd been a slow day.

The bell above the door dinged, startling you out of the paragraph you were reading.

It was Kim... uh... Kim, you racked your brain trying to remember her last name but came up with nothing. She smiled at you, browsing around the store for a moment. She'd grown up around here, you had to wonder what she would need in a souvenir shop. But you smiled nonetheless, closing your book and making yourself available.

"Nice day out there," she said, toying with a necklace, twirling a few beads around the string. "Looks like there might be some nice sun later."

"I sure hope so," you said, tapping your fingers quickly on the counter, "my flowers are begging for some sunshine."

She laughed, "yeah, sounds about right."

"Anything in particular you're looking for?" you asked, rounding the counter and joining her by the jewelry. She looked at you, something soft in her features that felt so familiar, so welcoming. "I swear I'm not watching you, you're just the first person I've talked to in like, two hours."

Kim laughed again, "Slow day?"

"Like you wouldn't believe," you said, picking up a green beaded necklace. "This would suit you, I think."

She looked at it for a second, taking it from your hands and putting it around her neck without fastening it. "Yeah, I think you're right. There's a fire tonight, would be nice to wear something new for a change."

"Sales is easy," you joked, walking back behind the register, ringing in the total on the prehistoric register.

"Mm, I'm pretty easy to persuade, not sure if it should be an example of your salesmanship..."

"The boss doesn't need to know that though," you smiled, taking her money and returning her change.

"Hey you should come hangout sometime," she said, "maybe I can take you to a late lunch at the diner before the fire tonight?"

"You wanna take me to lunch?"

She blushed, "not as like a date... not that I wouldn't want to! I mean... I just thought-"

Your laugh cut her off, "Kim, I'm kidding. Lunch would be great."

"Funny," she rolled her eyes, but smiled. "I'll come pick you up later. Still at the same house?"

You nodded, and she left with a smile, waving goodbye. The bell rang again as she left, and you watched her trot across the road, getting into a car with Jared Cameron, the boy who'd been in the store with Embry a couple days ago.

After your shift finished - and nearly your book due to the shocking lack of customers - you got home and changed, grabbing a shower before getting ready quickly.

Kim was out front, patiently waiting while you pulled on your shoes.

When you joined her in the car, she was just getting off the phone, speaking quickly and hushed. You looked around the area before you got in, that same funny feeling that maybe Embry was somewhere close.

"Ready?" she asked, kicking you out of your own thoughts.

"Yeah, totally..."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just..." you were desperate to share this with someone. Your mom was long gone, and your dad had been out at his brother's for the last month or so, hunting and fishing. Not that you'd want to tell your parents about the obsession you'd been having for the Call boy... "It's weird," you sighed, "I shouldn't bother you with it."

"Try me," she said.

And there was something about her kind smile, and the soft look in her eye... you did. You spilled your guts all the way to the diner, and continued explaining your bizarre interaction and feelings until just after you'd ordered, that's when you finished explaining you'd hoped he'd come by the store, but he hasn't. And explained how you had this weird sensation that he was there when he wasn't.

"...and it's extra crazy cause we didn't even say that much to each other, like, I just felt... something. Like a cosmic connection? I guess? Is that nuts?"

"I don't think that's nuts at all," she shook her head, smiling and thanking the waitress who delivered your food. "You know, the same thing happened to me with Jared, and it turns out he had been around when I thought he was."

"Really?"

"Really. Same exact thing..." Kim looked like she wanted to say more, but hesitated. She ate some fries instead.

"I just want him to come by like he said he would," you said, pushing your plate away. Suddenly, you weren't that hungry. "You know?"

"Maybe you should go to him?" she offered, waving a fry around before eating it. "He'll be at the fire tonight, you should come."

"Do you think I should?"

"It's not like an official meeting or anything, just a fire Emily and Sam wanted to throw," she said casually, "Sam Uley, I mean."

"I don't want to just show up uninvited," you blushed, slinking into your seat, but you thought about it.

"I'm inviting you!" she smiled, that genuine, kind smile... she was hard to say no to. It felt nice to hangout with someone, your friends had mostly left for college and you forgot how fun it was to yap.

"Okay," you said, straightening up, "okay, I will."

It was nighttime when you and Kim pulled up to the fire. A starless sky, but a beautiful night.

There was a group of people already huddled around a fire, and the nerve you'd conjured up had began to fade. Would Embry think this is weird? Were you weird? No, no, Kim had insisted. This wasn't even your idea. Would Embry believe that?

"Babe, hey!" Jared said, scampering over to hug his girlfriend, kissing her cheek. "Hey, y/n, how's it going?"

"Fine thanks," you said, "nice fire."

"Paul did it," he said, "he's kind of the fire guy of the paaaaa-rty..." he smiled, laughing like he hadn't confused his words.

"Come meet everyone, they're all nice. No one bites," Kim whispered, "Maybe Paul bites, just a little."

"Everyone," Jared announced, "this is y/n! Y/n, this is; Rachel, Paul, Emily, Sam, Quil, Jacob, Embry, Seth, annnnnnnnd Leah."

Embry's eyes were wide, locked on you from the moment Jared walked up with you. You felt embarrassed, like maybe coming here was a bad idea. You sat next to Kim, Rachel on your otherside, who smiled kindly at you, introducing herself again, and the conversation continued easily, and it was fun. But Embry was quiet, watching you as you laughed with Kim and Rachel, talking about an elementary teacher you'd all had in different years, enjoying a night out for the first time in a long time.

But you felt his eyes. They didn't seem angry, or judgemental... didn't seem like he thought you were a freak. And yet, Embry watched you, unable to focus on anything else. Quil nudged him, encouraging him to talk to you, but Embry brushed him off, looking into the fire for less than a minute before his eyes wandered back to you.

"We need more wood," Paul said, clapping Embry on the back hard enough that he lurched forward a little, "your turn."

"I went last time," he said, rolling his eyes, but getting up do to it anyway.

"And for your lovely assistant," Paul pointed at different people as he said; "eeny, meeny, miney, new girl," Paul landed at you, smiling as Rachel elbowed him roughly in the side. Not quietly at all he said, "What? That was subtle til you hit me."

"I don't need help," Embry said quietly, watching as you got up to do it without question.

"No it's okay, I wanna help," you said.

Embry led you over to a small shed, it's only contents were stacks of wood. He started loading up his hands, gesturing for you to stack a couple more on top. You started, but a log slid in your hand funny, and you yelped, dropping it in his arms and looking at your hand.

In an instant, Embry dropped the pile, grabbing your hand in his and looking at it, searching for the injury.

"Splinter," you said, "sorry."

"Does it hurt? Are you hurt?"

"I mean it stings a little, I guess, but I'm fine." But you didn't pull away, you wanted him to keep holding you, it was warm, and soft, and he smelled good. Like honey and oak. And he was so tall, towering over you but holding you so gingerly, inspecting your sliver.

"C'mon," he said, keeping your wrist in his grip, careful not to disturb the little piece of log in your hand, and led you out of the shed and into a house. Embry led you to the bathroom, bringing you into the small room and shuffling through the medicine cabinet with one hand, in the other - he still hadn't let yours go.

"Hey, I'm okay," you said quietly, "I can do it if you want, it's all good."

"I'll do it," he said gruffly, continuing his search for tweezers. When he found them, looking at your hand again. As if it were a medical procedure, he took a breath, and then grabbed the splinter, pulling it out swiftly but gently, making sure it didn't separate and get stuck. "You feel okay?"

"I'm fine, Embry," you giggled, "It was just a splinter."

He smiled a little, light blush on his cheeks as he looked around the small bathroom. "Still," he looked at you, resolve to avoid you shattering and disapatting, he wouldn't be strong enough to fight it for one minute longer. "They hurt sometimes."

You laughed, "yeah, I guess they do."

Embry continued to hold your hand, looking at you with those eyes that just made you melt. It was crazy to feel this way about him already right? Crazy that if he asked you to be his, you would be? It was too soon. But still... you wanted him to.

"We should get back," you said, gesturing towards the fire. "They might get worried."

"Wait," he said, looking back in the cabinet, pulling a small bandaid out, covering the tiny hole in your hand. "Don't want anything to get in there."

"Thanks," you said, and when he finally dropped your hand, you wished he hadn't.

You led him out of the house, and back to the shed - where he didn't let you help again for fear of another life threatening injury, and brought the wood over the fire.

And Embry was more animated when he rejoined everyone, opting to sit between you and Rachel rather than over by his best friends. He was close to you, but he didn't touch you again for the rest of the night.

Kim had driven you home before it got too late, and now you were in your bed, trying to sleep but you were stuck daydreaming about those few moments in the bathroom. It was playing on repeat. The way he looked at you, took care of you. All of it, it was so... attractive? You were so drawn to him.

A knock on the door made you jump, and you thought about not answering it. But there was something in your heart that said you should, that gentle nudge that Embry was nearby made you think.... yea, okay.

So you did, you swung the door open, and Embry was there, standing in the glow of the moon. He looked sheepish, goofy smile on his mouth that just made you smile.

"Embry?"

"I forgot something at the fire, or... I mean, maybe I remembered something?"

"Well, what did you forget or remember?"

And he didn't answer in words, but instead caressed your cheeks with his hands, and pulled you in for a kiss. It was soft, delicate like he was. You closed your eyes, reaching up on your tippy toes to push yourself deeper into the kiss, closer into Embry, like you wanted to be engulfed by him, surrounded and ensnared by the all thing Embry.

His mouth worked against yours, movements equal parts measured and natural, calculated and instinct. He walked forward, forcing you into the house where he kicked the door shut behind him, keeping you tight against him. His tongue sliding against your lower lip, but the pulling it between his teeth, biting just hard enough to make you gasp.

But then he switched, kissing you slower, more tender than you've ever known. Until he pulled away, holding you close but just looking at you. He smiled, it was so small, you nearly missed it, the way the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. And he kissed you again, one lingering peck. Before pulling away, trailing his hands slowly over your arms, the light touch of his fingers on your arms made you shiver. And when he got to your hands, he entertwined your fingers, holding both your hands.

"You're so beautiful," he said, "I'm sorry I didn't come see you sooner."

"Forgiven," you said, meaning it.

He smiled. Every single feature on his face was sculpted and perfect. He let go of one hand, brushing your hair off of your face, tucking it behind your ear. "But don't answer the door like that at this hour again, too dangerous."

You laughed, hitting him softly. He laughed too, bringing you into a hug, pulling you into his chest.

He would have to tell you everything. There was still a lot unspoken, but he would tell you everything tomorrow, but for now, for right now, he was just gunna hold you. And that was enough.

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