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i2sunric · 21 days

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I KNEW YOU WERE TROUBLE (s.jy)

pairing: rich boy!jake x reader (f)

summary: you knew jake was trouble as soon as he walked into the party, and despite that, the moment he proposed a deal to you, you sold your heart as you signed the contract.

warnings: making out, kissing, fake dating, bad relationship with parents, smut (pussy eating, fingering, masturbation), fighting, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed and drugs, jake is rich as hell, reader has a nasty personality, curse words, pet names (baby, ma chérie, love), lmk if more. PROOFREAD → READ PART 2

published: 10th May 2024

wc: 6.1k

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore (one shot) @anittamaxwynnn @jvjsssnaa @minniejenseo @slut4hee @kgneptun @nyxtwixx @laurradoesloveu @star4rin @capri-cuntz @eneiyri @samouryed @heyniki @ineedsomezzz @nanamongmong @aishigrey @naurrjakeu @ak-aaa-li @sjakewrld @nikiswifiee @koralira-kira @daisycottage @yunhoswrldddd @smisworld [BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED]

a/n: here it is the long awaited jake fic! i don’t really like how it turned out but i thought i already made you wait enough <//3 please LIKE & REBLOG to share! i’d really appreciate that 🎀🎀 also, let me know your thoughts, comment!

You stared at your own reflection in the full-length mirror, the dress you wore was riding a little too high, showing more skin than you usually did.

The fresh polished black nails matching with the inky colour of the dress, a few bracelets and nice earrings made the whole outfit even better.

“Girl, you look amazing.” Your best friend, Yunjin, commented as she wore a matching dress with yours, just in white.

“You look stunning as well.” You complimented her back, blowing her a kiss.

“So, what’s tonight’s plan?” She asked, putting some lipstick on. You sat down on her bed, stretching your limbs “Mh.. Find a nice guy to make out with?”

Yunjin hummed “Thought you were in a situationship with Heeseung?” She asked, mentioning the guy who hosted the party.

“I just needed someone to get us to a nice party.” You smirked cunningly, “You’re truly a bad bitch.”

You shrugged “You need to be smart to live in this world.”

Yunjin popped her lips and turned around, throwing the lipstick at you so you could apply it as well “Yeah, but be careful.”

You raised a brow “Of?”

“The games you play,” She stated, sitting beside you to put her heels on “They are going to backfire on you, someday.”

You just scowled at her, cause why on earth would the Y/N get hurt by a boy? That wasn’t going to happen.

“Jesus..” Yunjin’s eyes widened as she took in the house of the party. It was huge, probably bigger than both your houses combined, the amount of people inside was shocking, all drunken teenagers trying to take a break from the boring world.

“We don’t really belong in this side of the city.” Yunjin nudged your shoulder, “They’re all rich kids here.”

“So?” You entered the house, swaying your hips, already putting your charm to use “Nobody will know.” You winked at her.

The whole house was packed with people, some already drunk and stumbling around. You and Yunjin stayed together, knowing better than accepting drinks from strangers.

You went to the kitchen and stole one cup of punch, the bitter liquid burning your throat— Someone must’ve put more alcohol than it was supposed to.

A few drinks later, your ginger-headed friend was already starting to get out of her comfort zone and she dragged you to the dance floor.

You moved to the sound of the music, your eyes occasionally scanning the room to search for an attractive someone.

As you danced with Yunjin, your gaze fell on one particular guy leaning against the wall, his aura so attractive. He met your stare and didn’t even hide the way his eyes scanned your body, lingering a little longer on your curves.

There it was, your potential interest of the night.

Though, like you had learned with age, you needed to act as if you didn’t care to get boys to care enough. So, you just kept staying by Yunjin’s side, dancing with her and moving sensually, the alcohol in your system making you bolder than usual.

𓆩♡𓆪

You had noticed the way he was eyeing you, occasionally licking his lips or biting his bottom lip. His stare was hungry, so lustful— And you liked it. You enjoyed such attention, so you did your best to maintain them.

Occasionally swaying your hips a little too close to someone else, holding eye contact just to look away before he could. Needless to say, he was as shameless as you, giving you that stare that spoke volumes about how much he craved you.

So, you decided to give him one last, long stare as you smirked before detaching yourself from your best friend and walking upstairs to the bathroom.

You opened the door and loudly closed it behind your back.

Five, four, three— You miscalculated his eagerness because in just three seconds the door already opened behind you.

You saw his reflection from the mirror, his body towering over you, like a dark aura. You smirked “What are you doing, following a lady to the bathroom?”

His lips curved into a small, cunning smirk as well “Don’t act like you didn’t want me to.” His voice was so husky, a heavy australian accent lingering on his tongue, as sweet as honey.

You turned around, the small of your back resting on the countertop, near the faucet. You tilted your head, giving him a fake innocent smile “What’s your name?”

“Jake,” He then asked “What’s yours?”

“Y/N.” You answered. “Well, Y/N.” Jake nodded and stepped closer to you, slowly. He placed both his arms on each side of you. You could feel his warm breath hitting your face “Looks like I’ve got you all for myself.”

You chuckled, a dangerous one “Are you sure it ain’t the other way around?”

Jake raised a brow at your statement, a laugh escaping his lips. So joyful and intoxicating “Maybe it is.”

His finger started caressing your skin, barely touching it, just enough to leave you wanting more “What do you want from someone like me?” He asked, his dark eyes meeting yours “I’m a bad bet, Y/N.”

And lord, if you didn’t love the way your name rolled off his tongue, with the voice of an angel but devil intention.

“I’m not exactly good either.” You stated, your arms wrapping around his neck, your lips so close.

“No?” Jake raised a brow, his big hands settling on your waist, “No.” You stated and brought your lips on his.

He let out a surprised growl and kissed you back right away, so hungry and desperate, like he needed that to release some sort of built stress.

Jake lifted you up, your bare thighs landing on the cold porcelain sink, but you didn’t have time to hitch your breath since his tongue swirled inside your mouth, tasting all of you.

“I’ll ask again,” He murmured on your lips “What do you want from me?”

You caressed the back of his neck, your palm tracing over the little hair he had there. “What do you want from me?” You asked back.

He gently bit your bottom lip, letting a moan escape from you “Hear those pretty sounds.” He answered.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and moved against him, basically jumping him. He let out another deep groan, his lips claiming yours once more.

His whiskey-flavoured tongue licked your lips, one of his hands groping your breasts through the thin fabric of your dress— You had to admit he was rather skilled.

Jake knew where to touch and when to touch, he knew how to drive you insane, leaving your body burning in desire.

Your hands blindly went to undo his buttons, clumsily snatching his shirt open. You let your palms wander on his sculpted figure as his own fingers found your panties.

“Jake,” You breathed out, rocking your hips on his fingers “So eager.” He tsked, letting you grind his hand

But as soon as he was about to pull your underwear to the side, loud knocks were heard from outside.

“Open up!” A male voice said, sounding desperate.

“Fuck off!” You answered, frustratedly letting your head rest on the mirror at your back.

“I need to puke,” The guy outside knocked some more, harshly “Open the damn door.”

Jake cursed under his breath and let go of you, walking to the door before turning around again. He helped you down the counter and winked “Need to help a lady out.”

He then opened the door and the drunk guy threw himself in, reaching the wc. You didn’t want to witness whatever was going to come out of him so you quickly stepped outside.

“What a way to cockblock me.” Jake scoffed and you laughed, patting his shoulder “That’s a shame.”

You started to walk away when Jake hurried after you and took your hand “Where are you going?”

You frowned “Downstairs?” As if it was the most obvious answer.

“So, you’re going to act like I didn’t just stick my tongue in your mouth?” Jake scoffed

“I thought you just wanted a hook up?” You said, titling your head “And I ain’t going to have sex in some stranger’s bedroom, that’s nasty.”

Jake chuckled “But the bathroom is alright?” You shrugged “Better than dirty sheets.”

He then shook his head, the charming smile still on his lips “No, I don’t want just sex.” He pulled you closer by your head, brushing your hair to the side “I can settle with making out.”

You bit your bottom lip and fisted the collar of his shirt, “Bring it on.”

𓆩♡𓆪

A lot more kisses later, you and Jake sat on the grass of the backyard garden. The cold breeze hit your bare skin but even with your thin dress you weren’t bothered one bit, the alcohol in your system serving as a heater.

Your shoulders brushed against each other while you both sipped on two cans of beers— At which number you were, you weren't really sure.

“You go to a private school?” You asked as you were having a small chat with him. You two had been attached to the hip bone the whole night, getting to know the other.

You found out his family was originally from Australia, which explained the heavy accent— and that he was painfully rich.

“Yup,” He answered, popping the ‘p’ “With a uniform.” You grimaced “Don’t tell me you ever wear a blazer.”

The silence following your question made you widen your eyes “No fucking way.”

“Yes fucking way.” Jake chuckled, leaning back on his hands “It’s so ugly, I don’t look as attractive with that on.”

You laughed, “I’d like to see you.” Jake beamed back at you “Maybe one day.”

You got closer to him and whispered “Is your toilet paper made from fifty dollar bills?” At that, Jake let out a heartfelt laugh “I hope you’re not serious.”

“I’m joking.” You waved your hand, taking a sip from the can.

“What about you?” He beckoned at you, “You go to the public school? The one with the weird kids?”

“At least I don’t have blazers.” You gave him a sheepish smirk “And yes— When I go, it’s not like I attend it a lot.”

Faint music was heard from afar, but the only sound you could concentrate on was the giggle of the guy sitting next to you. His dishevelled state did little to hide the handsomeness of his face.

"You really don't give a single shit about the world?" Jake asked, shaking his head as if he could not believe you.

You just shrugged "Life's too short to give a shit." You took a sip from the can of beer "Besides, I'm still a teen only for." You counted mentally "Like, two years, why should I care about anything now? Better partying."

Jake laughed once again, perhaps the alcohol in his system making him feel better about the meeting he had to attend the next day— Shoot, he had completely forgotten about it.

The moonlight shone on your figure, making your skin seem brighter, your hair softer. Jake stared at you like you were a piece of art at a museum, to be worshipped.

His eyes fell on your small dress, a smirk spread on his face; despite knowing you for not over three hours, he felt a deep connection to you, like you could get him.

"Want to go on a date tomorrow?"

Your browns knitted "Wo, wo, wo." You said, placing your hand between the two of you, "Aren't you running a little?"

Jake licked his bottom lip, chuckling "Nothing serious, I just need you to fake being my girlfriend."

At such a statement, your brow raised "Why?" You asked and he stole the can from your hand, taking a sip as well.

You watched as he chugged down the liquid, his Adam apple in plain sight, making you feel a little light headed. He sighed and cleaned his mouth with his sleeve "You're reckless, a free spirit and you look like you smoke weed in your free time."

"Well damn, you got me." You joked, snatching the can from his hands, "You're everything my parents wouldn't like."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" You laughed and Jake got closer to your ear. "Oh darling, you bet it is."

You gulped, a shiver running through your spine "So, you just need me to meet you again tomorrow and be your fake girlfriend?" Jake nodded, "At least my acting classes won't go to waste."

Jake chuckled and nodded, caressing your thigh, his thumb brushing against your sensitive flesh "So... Will you help me anger my parents?"

You had no business accepting a drunken offer from the hot guy you made out with at a frat party, getting involved in his family matters and even fake dating him— But what could you do? You loved challenges.

"Deal."

Jake raised a brow “Really? You’d do that?” You just shrugged in response “Not like I have anything better to do.”

“That’s great,” Jake beamed, “And are you planning on going to school tomorrow?”

You raised a brow “Why?” Jake answered, “I’ll come pick you up.”

“You don’t even know what school I attend.” Jake smirked and stole your can again “Guess you’ll have to give me your number to text me the address and your schedules.”

You rolled your eyes “Just say it you want an excuse to fuck in the back of your car.”

“You don’t consider that nasty?” He raised a brow, recalling your previous comment, “Depends, if you can make me forget it with your skills.”

“Want to find out?”

𓆩♡𓆪

“You’re kidding.” Yunjin’s mouth fell agape as she took in the sight of the crimson sport car parked outside your school. You smirked knowingly as Jake waved his hand to you.

“I ain’t, baby.” You raised your brows to her, showing off. Yunjin patted your shoulder “I take back all the bad things I told you when you left me alone— I would’ve done it too.”

You laughed quietly, and was about to step further when your best friend stopped you, taking your hand. You turned around “What?”

“Are you sure you want to go?” She eyed Jake warily, scanning him, “Do you trust him?”

You let go of her hand and gave her a gentle smile “Weird, but I do.” You stated

“You were pretty drunk last night..” She trailed off “Not as much as you, I know what I did and I can tell you, he’s not dangerous.”

She looked at you a little reluctantly before nodding “Okay… Just be careful.”

You blew her a kiss and waved “Call ya later.” And then walked toward Jake. You laughed as you saw his uniform “Not the blazer.”

Jake opened his arms as if to show you his school uniform better “I promised to let you see it.”

You eyed him and then looked at the car, “What a show off.” Jake shrugged “What can I say? I wanted your friends to talk well about you.”

You rolled your eyes at his comments. Jake opened the car door and motioned you to enter it “After you.”

Jake followed right behind and got the car going, “You haven’t told me where we’re going since I need to meet your parents at dinner.”

“To buy a pretty dress for a pretty girl.” He answered, placing one hand on your thigh. The skirt you were wearing exposed your bare flesh — not as much as the day before — and the contact of his cold palm made you shiver.

“You don’t look that bad with the blazer.” You commented, settling yourself better inside the car. It was spacious, the seats were beige leather, and it felt as if the whole car had cost more than any expense you had made in your life.

“No?” He asked, the same sweet tone of the previous day returning, “No.” You stated.

“Why do I need a new dress?” You asked, “I think I have a few in my wardrobe.”

Jake chuckled “Oh, Y/N.” He shook his head, “The restaurant where we’ll have dinner is very… fancy,” He informed you, “And you’ll need a fancy dress.”

You crossed your arms on your chest “So, you just assumed I don’t own one?”

“Do you?” You answered, “No, but it’s rude that you just assumed I don’t have one just cause I’m not as rich as you.”

“That’s not what I meant.“ Jake sighed “I didn’t—“ He tried to explain but you had already looked out of the window, your mood ruined.

Silence fell in the car until Jake parked in the parking lot of the mall. You were about to exit it when you heard a ‘click’. You turned around and raised a brow “Why did you lock it?”

“So you’d listen,” His whole body was turned to face you “I did not assume a single shit, alright?”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to hear him “Don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not.” He stated, his stare so serious “I honestly don’t even care if you’re not rich, but I care the stares people will give you if you come wearing something normal.”

“I don’t care about them.” You frowned “Believe me, you will.” He seemed bothered by something. “They’re just… so mean, and I don’t want you to become their victim.”

You tilted your head to the side “But I need to piss them off.”

“My parents,” Jake said, “Not the people in the restaurant.”

You stayed silent a few seconds before nodding “Okay, I’ll let you buy it.”

Jake smirked, “Good girl.”

𓆩♡𓆪

You got inside a shop you had never even dared walk in front of, it smelled like a fairytale and all the assistants wore suits or elegant dresses. They all had the same forced smile and no matter how harsh a client was treating you— The assistant was always wrong.

You bit down your tongue to prevent yourself from commenting on one particular demanding lady who kept shouting at a poor guy who was obviously new and inexperienced and followed Jake into trying a few dresses on.

“Why is this so tight?” You commented, stepping out of the dressing room for what felt like the nth time.

“It’s supposed to be,” Jake said, glancing at you up and down, not even bothering to hide his hungry stare from the worker that was assisting you.

“But I can’t breathe.” You hissed, trying to move in that white dress “Maybe I should change the size?” The assistant suggested but Jake just dismissed him with his hand “No, try the other one.”

You rolled your eyes “Just another one, and then we’re going away.”

Jake raised a brow but then agreed “Fine…” He scanned the dressing room which was packed with so many dresses it looked like a princess’ wardrobe “Try the burgundy one.”

You let out a deep breath and went back into the cabin, fighting to get out of that tiny dress. You stood in your underwear, glancing at the burgundy dress that Jake suggested you wore.

It was fancy and elegant, sleeveless and short, but not too much. You had to admit it was the best one you’d seen so far, so you quickly changed into it.

“Here.” Jake said as he entered the dressing room, closing the curtain so no one could peek.

He helped you zip it up, maintaining eye contact with you from the reflection in the mirror. It felt like a dejavu of the previous night, his gaze so primal and dark.

He fixed your hair back and nodded “You look stunning, ma chérie.”

You widened your eyes at the nickname, Jake lowered to the height of your ear and whispered “Don’t you like it? We need to start acting as a couple if we want to be convincing.”

You turned around “I like it very much, baby.” You added the pet name with a smirk, making Jake chuckle.

His gaze fell on the curves of your body, the dress seeming as if it was perfectly made for you, “Damn Y/N.” He let out a deep groan “You are perfect.”

“Enough with the compliments or I might start to believe it.” Jake ran his fingers on each side of your waist. “You already do.”

You smirked, loving the way he already knew you well “Yeah, I already do.”

Suddenly, he pushed you so your back was pressed against the mirror, making you gasp. He put one hand in front of your mouth “Shh.” He demanded and you nodded.

Jake slowly sank to his knees, his palms grazing the bare flesh near your thighs. The contact made you shiver as you watched with knowing eyes what he was doing.

He slowly hooked the fabric of the dress up, so it rode just above your waistline “Jake..”

“Mh?” He hummed, his nose between your thighs as he smelled your sweet scent “What, love?”

You let out a shaky breath, “Is this some sort of pay back?” Jake chuckled quietly “You could say that.”

He hooked his fingers on the waistband of your panties and dropped them to your ankles, the air of the room hitting your bare core, making you hum.

“Can I taste you?” He asked and you nodded frantically, butterflies filling your stomach as the filthy thoughts of his following actions clouded your mind.

That eager consent was all it took him to lick a long stripe from your clit, tasting your juices. You gasped out and quickly placed a hand to muffle your sounds, not wanting the poor workers to hear the corrupted things you two had going on.

He gave kitten licks to your sensitive clit, teasing your wet folds with his free hand. Your own hand went to grasp his hair, pulling him closer to you, “Hurry.” You whined.

“Yes, ma’am.” He said before attaching his lips to your pussy, sucking on your clitorids. You let out quiet moans, still muffled by the hand you were biting, clearly some marks would appear later.

You pulled his hair and Jake stuck out his tongue, his doe eyes looking up at you. You took the hint and started grinding his tongue, the spongy texture sending waves of pleasure through your whole body.

“Oh yes,” He incited you, “Fuck my tongue, baby.” You gave up on trying to stay quiet and grasped his hair with your other hand as well, not like the filthy sounds coming from him eating you out could be blocked out.

Jake inserted two fingers inside of you, the sudden intrusion causing your body to jolt, if it wasn’t for his strong grip keeping you still you would’ve fallen over him.

Jake took one of your legs and hooked it over his shoulder, your whole pussy stretched all for him as he rubbed your sensitive bud with his tongue.

He started thrusting his digits, speeding his movements to match his tongue and damn, it felt heavenly.

“Jake—“ You gasped out, your moans loud enough for the whole shop to hear “Shh.” He shushed you, pinching your inner thigh.

You let out a soft whimper and chewed on your bottom lip to prevent yourself from moaning. Jake’s movements along with the pornographic scene unfolding in front of you was what took you to the edge, falling apart on his tongue with a loud gasp.

Your body quivered and Jake helped you riding out of your high. He detached his lips from your pussy, a string of saliva keeping them connected. Spit and your juices coated his chin as he got back on his feet, cleaning his face with the sleeve of his suit. “That was amazing.”

You smacked his shoulder lightly, still panting “You’re crazy— They heard us.”

Jake pulled you into a heated kiss, his dirty fingers wrapping around your throat, not adding any pressure, but enough to keep you still.

He rubbed his hard bulge on your stomach, needing to ease the aching feeling coming from it “Don’t act like you didn’t like it.”

You eyed him as he pulled away, your stare falling down to the evident hard on he had. You felt a little pitiful. “Let me help you.”

You were about to get on your knees when Jake stopped you, a warm smile on his face “No, don’t.”

You tilted your head in confusion “Why? You clearly need to fix it.”

Jake hummed “And I’ll do it in the bathroom, because if you want to help me, I wouldn't use your throat, baby.” His fingers traced the outline of your jaw “And I’m sure you don’t want it here.”

𓆩♡𓆪

As Jake helped you get ready and drove to the destination of the mission, you started to believe that was some kind of mockery.

The houses in your neighbourhood were half of the ones in Jake’s, all of them had at least one swimming pool and useless expensive cars.

You scoffed as you drove past them, making Jake smile. He put his hand on your thigh and caressed it “Let’s review what we said.”

You rolled your eyes “Act like a couple and make your parents believe it, just be me and use my sharp tongue to piss them off, possibly have sex later.”

Jake raised his brows in surprise “I didn’t know about the last point.”

You smiled proudly, “I just added it.” You took the hand he had on your thigh and slowly accompanied it higher, almost near your dangerous zone “Like it?”

“I’m driving, Y/N.” He scolded with the same deep voice he used to flirt. Damn, if it didn’t turn you on “And I ain’t doing anything.”

Jake placed his hand a little further “There won’t be any sex if we die in a car crash.” You crossed your arms on your chest “You’re so dramatic.”

He just let out a small chuckle and you two continued the drive in a comfortable silence. As soon as he reached the location, he killed the engine and got out of the car, reaching your side and opening the door for you “After you, ma chérie.”

You shook your head at his pet name and took his hand, walking out the door “These heels are killing my feet.” You complained, stumbling a little.

Jake wrapped one arm around your waist, supporting you. He leaned down to whisper in your ear “You look amazing.”

You shivered at his deep voice, his breath hitting your sensitive skin. “You look like someone I want to give head to.”

Jake let out another deep chuckle and you both made your way toward the fancy restaurant.

He stopped you before you could put foot in it, spinning you around so you were facing him. You tilted your head in a puzzled way, “What?”

He let out a small sigh “Promise me you won’t take anything they say by heart.” You stayed still for a moment before bursting out, laughing “Are you actually worried?”

Jake clicked his tongue “I’m serious Y/N. Whatever they say, don’t mind it.”

You just shrugged “I don’t even care what they say,” You wrapped your arms around his neck, mumbling on his lips “I’m here to help you, you don’t worry about me.”

His grip on your waist tightened, just a little “I just feel like I dragged you here… You were drunk when I asked and—“ Before he could even finish his sentence, you shushed him with your lips on his, licking his bottom lip.

Despite the sudden action, Jake kissed you back, one hand holding your scalp so he could deepen it.

However, you were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You both pulled away and Jake widened his eyes “Father.”

You gulped down, noting the way his father didn’t even resemble him at all. Jake wasn't tall, but that man towered him by a lot. Jake’s features were soft, his eyes warm as a hot chocolate in winter— while his father’s were sharp, cold as ice.

He took hold of your hand, Mister Sim’s dark gaze falling onto your intertwined hands. “You’re late.” He just stated, monotone.

“Traffic.” Jake answered back in a voice you’ve never heard before— uncomfortable even.

“Seems like you were busy with something else.” His father’s gaze fell onto you, probably trying to intimidate you. You just raised a challenging brow in response.

“Your mother and I have been waiting for you. Hurry.” Mister Sim turned around and walked ahead of you. Before following him, you squeezed Jake’s hand and gave him a warm smile “Mission start.”

The whole restaurant screamed rich, with all those big chandeliers, candles and even a piano in the middle of the room, where a pianist was playing some classical music you had never even heard before.

As you arrived at the designed table, Mister Sim sat down beside his wife. Your eyes fell on the petite woman, looking like the copy-paste of her son.

“Mother.” Jake greeted, bowing slightly out of respect. You did the same, flashing a fake smile “Pleasure to meet you.” Miss Sim just nodded, beckoning you to sit down.

After ordering some food, Jake’s parents started questioning him while your gaze went to the table, noticing the amount of forks on it.

“Useless.” You commented a little too loud, because his father asked “Pardon?”

You raised your gaze to meet his “What do you need so many forks for? Just use one.” You raised one from the table, making him see

Jake chokes down a laugh, earning a warning stare from his mother “You’ve never been to a fancy restaurant, dear?”

You just shrugged, placing the fork down “Not my go to. I prefer some nice burgers, cheaper.”

Jake’s mother made a shocked, almost offended expression “You’ll get fat if you eat such rubbish.”

“So? Fat but happy.” You commented, patting at your stomach. Miss Sim eyed you as if you had just personally offended her.

Fortunately, the waiter interrupted you as he served the plates. In front of you there was a steak (something you couldn’t usually afford), but that same steak was the size of a nut. Literally, it was so tiny.

Jake noticed your expression and leaned down to whisper “We’ll buy a burger later.” You smiled and whispered back “I’d rather you eating me.”

“Whispering at the table is rude.” His mother commented, cutting a small piece of the already small steak.

“What was your name again, dear?” You mentally prepared yourself to be as rude as possible and answered “Y/N.”

“Right, Y/N.” Miss Sim nodded as if she had known your name before, which you knew she hadn’t “How old are you?”

“Just turned eighteen, Ma’am.” You said, placing down the fork “Oh, so you’re the same age as my son.” She flashed you a fake smile, looking like one of those dogs that seem so sweet but bite as soon as you try to pet them.

“I’ve always told Jake to date older girls, you know, they’re… wiser.” You raised a brow “So, you’re saying I’m dumb just because I ain’t older than him?”

Jake’s mother widened her eyes, “Not at all.” You gave her a fake smile “I was just joking.”

She laughed as well. “Of course, you have such a playful personality.”

“Too playful.” Mister Sim commented, clearing his throat “And where do you live? Your parents, what do they do for a living?”

You replied with your neighbourhood and your parents' jobs, earning some concerning stares from the two adults at the table, who were as mature as a two-year-old.

“We will have to start thinking about marriage, Jake will inherit our company.” Jake sighed, “Mother..” Miss Sim started, cleaning the corner of her mouth with the tissue “Do you want to get married? And kids?”

His father then added “Are you two sexually active?”

At such words, Jake fisted his hand under the table. You noticed and put one of your hands on his.

“Why—“ Before he could say something, you talked over “What does that even matter?” You asked, raising a brow.

“That’s my life, if I wanted to get married or have kids, that’s my choice to make. And that counts for Jake as well.” You frowned. Jake took your hand in his and squeezed it to give you support.

“You are two stereotyped jerks, and I’m being nice.” You earned a scoff from Mister Sim “How dare—“

“No, I’m the one talking now.” You snapped, “I’ve been sitting here for one hour, hearing all your bullshit. You rich people disgust me.”

You got up, receiving all the attention of the people in the restaurant, “You’re so stereotyped, you only care about money, get a fucking grip.”

Mister Sim’s eyes widened at your sudden outburst “Don’t you use such ugly words.”

“I do what I want, and I say this dinner is done.” You turned around, but Jake stayed put.

“You choose her?” Miss Sim asked with her best victim voice, ready to guilt trip her own son.

Jake had stayed silent the whole time, watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes. He gulped down, slowly raising his eyes to meet his parents’ “I don’t choose anyone, mother, because I am not ungrateful to turn my back to you.” He said, a sparkle of pride in your chest, “I agree with all she said, though.”

Jake smirked, “Yes, I’m a disgrace, but I don’t give a single shit about it.”

Said that, he took your hand again and dragged you outside.

As soon as you were out, you both stared at each other before bursting into a big and heartfelt laugh “Did I overdo it?” You asked and Jake shook his head “You did a great job.”

He drove you to your neighbourhood, the difference between the place you had just been and the restaurants in your side of the town was huge. It almost made you feel a shame, but then again why would you even need to be? That was your life and you loved it.

After having some burgers to your favourite street food place, making Jake taste your most treasured guilty pleasure, he parked the car in a nearby parking and helped you get out, holding your heels in his hand since you took them off, being too uncomfortable for your used-to-converse feet.

He walked you until your house, stopping as you reached its front. “I should go inside.”

Jake nodded and handed you the heels, “Seriously Y/N. Thank you so much.” He said sincerely, “I don’t even know why you agreed to this, but you said all the things I was too afraid to say.”

He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, then caressing your cheek with his thumb “And you keep this dress. Maybe you’ll need it someday.”

“It costs more than my house.” You commented, making Jake chuckle “But it looks great on you.”

“So… no crazy sex in the car?” You asked and he shook his head “Isn’t that nasty?” He teased you.

“Hey,” You said, faking being offended. “Said the one who wears a blazer to school.”

“Oh.” He raised his hands in surrender. “You win.”

Jake took a hold of your waist and dragged you toward him, pressing his lips onto yours. The kiss was slow, much deeper than a normal goodbye one. It held so many emotions and care, you almost melted right there.

He then pulled away, licking his lips as if to take all the taste of you “Get inside, it’s getting cold.”

You looked up at him, your eyes sparkling “I’ll see you again?”

“Of course, ma chérie.” He smiled, kissing the corner of your lip “I still have to show you my bed skills.”

You chuckled and pushed his chest playfully “I’m much better than you.”

“Can’t know until you show me.” He winked and watched as you headed inside, his smile never leaving his face.

And neither did yours leave, for once you felt the happiest girl in the world, kicking your feet under the blanket and dreaming of the sensation his kisses brought you.

However, you should’ve listened to Yunjin’s warning about you getting yourself hurt in the end, because the next Saturday, when your eyes met Jake’s again at Heeseung’s new party and you smiled ever so sweetly at him— his stare diverted, smiling at another pretty girl, too pretty for your own likings.

And that was where you realised your heart was the shattered one.

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stillmonsterz · 2 months

Text

you know i'm down

pairing: jay x reader

genre: smut

summary: it's march 2020 and you're stuck in the house with your stepfather during lockdown. can the two of you keep it together?

warnings: stepcest, unprotected sex, swearing, dubcon, panty-sniffing, virus mention, COVID implication (?),

word count: 3.8k

“Yeah. Yeah, I know, things are getting crazy, but try to keep your head up, yeah? You’ll be safe,” Jay said into his phone, his forehead creasing as he spoke. His newly wedded wife had taken a trip to visit her mother shortly after their marriage, but now the government was advising that she stay where she was. The news was scaring her, and it scared Jay, too, but he couldn’t let her know that. He was her steadfast protector, her bastion, and so he reassured her that everything would be okay.

“And you’ll take care of her too, yes?” she asked firmly, referring to her daughter.

“Of course, honey. I’ll take care of her like she’s mine,” Jay said, rubbing his forehead. “I promise.”

“You’re so good with her,” his wife said. “You know, she really likes you, right?”

“I really like her, too,” Jay said softly, and it was the truth. His wife and her daughter had moved in with him three short months ago, and neither of them had caused trouble. On the contrary: Jay wished that he could see more of her daughter so they could be closer. He wanted to be a good stepfather, but she was always holed up inside of her room.

They exchanged goodbyes, I love yous, and promises to stay safe, and then Jay was alone on the couch with his own thoughts. If he sat there for too long, stewing in fear, he would lose his mind. Jay turned the television on and checked the news. They were strongly advising people to stay put for at least two weeks, and Jay made a mental note to coordinate with his employees about this in a few hours. No point riling people up and forcing them to worry about work so early in the day.

Jay was sitting on the couch with lips set in a line when you had tentatively crept down the stairs, worry etched on your features. He turned the television off and assessed you carefully. You were so similar to your mother in stature and facial features, but Jay doubted that his wife would ever don the dolphin shorts and hoodie combination you were so fond of wearing. Of course, you made it look cute. You shuffled over to him, wringing your hands.

“Mom really can’t come back?” you asked, hovering near the other end of the couch.

Jay nodded, setting his phone on the side table. “Yeah, they really want to curb the spread of the virus,” he said, smoothing his hands down his legs. “She’ll be okay, though. There’s a lot of food at her mom’s house, and she won’t be alone. It’ll only be two weeks.”

Your lower lip trembled, and you looked away from Jay as you tried to calm yourself down. You rubbed your hands along your arms, and Jay could see that you had goosebumps. “You don’t think she got it, do you?” you asked in a wavering voice.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jay said quietly. “Look at me.” When you refused, obstinately staring at the ground, his voice became firm. “Look at me.”

You lifted your head, and he spread his arms and gestured for you to come to him. He wrapped you in his embrace, rubbing your back. You leaned on him, kneeling in between his legs as you hugged him tightly. “There’s no way that she caught it,” Jay said soothingly. “She’s been with her family the entire time. She hardly went off their property.”

“I’m just so worried. I’ve never lived through anything like this before,” you said falteringly, pulling away so you could look at his face. Jay knew you were looking at him to check for chinks in his armor, a sign of doubt. He pulled his features into a convincing mask of resoluteness and confidence.

“It’ll all be okay,” he said, running his thumb along your cheek. “Look on the bright side, you won’t have to commute to school for two weeks.”

You chuckled, looking down as you smiled. “You’re right, Jay.” Jay liked that you didn’t try to call him Dad or Daddy. When he had first met you after a few months of dating your mom, he had been pleased to find that you weren’t the archetypal bratty stepdaughter. Instead, you were sweet and intelligent, and you hardly asked him for a thing. Jay stroked your hair comfortingly and kissed your forehead.

“You wanna watch a movie together? Would you like that?” You nodded your assent, and Jay reached around for the remote and went on Netflix. He put something lighthearted on for you, and shortly after the movie started you rested your head on his chest. Belatedly, Jay realized that it might be somewhat inappropriate to hold you like this, with you curled up in his arms, kneeling between his legs. But you were so worried, and you needed a guiding figure there, so what else could he do?

Jay continued to rub your back as you watched the movie together. At some point, though, Jay’s attention permanently moved from the film onto you, and he studied your features closely. His wife was a very pretty woman, and started to realize that her daughter was a very pretty girl.

Maybe this lockdown wouldn't be so bad, if he could get closer to you.

–

The next day, Jay took stock of everything in the kitchen. Thankfully, they tended to bulk-buy, so he didn’t think that they would have to go shopping for two weeks. Yesterday, you hadn’t eaten dinner, blaming your nerves for curbing your appetite. He decided to surprise you with a pancake breakfast. He smiled as he imagined you eating pancakes. You’d look so adorable with full cheeks…

As he started to gather the ingredients, he heard footsteps padding on the tiled floor.

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly. Jay turned to face you, and his breath caught. You were rubbing your eyes, looking around the kitchen, and you were so cute. Jay swallowed thickly and returned his attention to the array of supplies in front of him.

“Just making breakfast,” he mumbled. “Pancakes.”

“Can I help?” He heard you come closer, and he could smell your body wash. It was fruity and playful; something from Victoria’s Secret or Lush, a store like that. It went so well with your natural fragrance, Jay had to resist the urge to sniff the air.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Jay replied, kneeling down to find where the pans were stashed. It was his house, but his wife had reorganized the kitchen to her liking, so he had trouble finding things.

“I want to help,” you said, and Jay looked up at you. A mistake. How could he refuse those earnest eyes of yours?

“Yeah, sure,” he said, hoping he came off as nonchalant. He gave you some instructions, well-aware that his voice was somewhat strained. Jay watched you bustle around the kitchen, shamelessly checking you out. Guilt nipped at him, but he reasoned that it was just looking. There was nothing wrong with looking. And when you wore little shorts like that, you were asking to be looked at, really.

Jay snapped himself out of it and returned his attention to cooking. He flipped the pancakes without using a spatula, and you clapped. “I wish I could do that,” you said.

“Here, I’ll show you.” Jay wrapped your hand around the end of the pan and covered it with his own. “You have to utilize a certain flick of the wrist, but put pressure on your index finger, your middle finger, and your thumb…” When you successfully flipped a pancake with his help, you giggled, and he felt warm. Like a proud father, he thought. Just like a proud father.

As you two ate breakfast together, he could see your happiness returning. You must have been so worried about your mother, and he was glad to see you shoveling pancakes in your mouth and laughing about some video your friend had sent you.

“You’ve got syrup all over your mouth,” Jay said, smiling. Before you could wipe it yourself, Jay wet his thumb and wiped it off, relishing in the opportunity to touch your lips. “I bet you were such a messy kid,” he murmured.

“I was,” you said with a self-deprecating laugh. “My mom was always running after me with Wet Wipes.”

Jay chuckled at the thought, retracting his thumb. “I’m sure she didn’t mind. You were probably a cute kid, too.”

You groaned. “I was so cute. I have no clue what happened.”

You got pretty, Jay thought.

“You think I’m pretty?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips, and Jay realized that he had carelessly complimented you.

Jay cleared his throat. “Of course you are,” he said, desperately trying to center himself. “You look just like your mother.”

You nodded, still looking pleased with the compliment, and Jay could feel his heart racing out of his shirt. You were going to be the death of him.

–

The next day, after dinner, (another collaboration between the two of you), you had announced that you would do the laundry. Jay shook his head and handed his plate to you. “You do the dishes,” he said, smiling slyly. “I’ll take care of the laundry.”

You begrudgingly took the plate and stacked it on top of yours. “I hate doing the dishes.”

Jay laughed and ruffled your hair as he walked past you. “Doing things you hate builds character,” he called behind his shoulder.

As soon as he got upstairs, he made a mad dash to your bedroom to retrieve your laundry basket. He didn’t have a lot of time. Jay opened your door and bent down to examine the white hamper. Pawing through your clothes, he shakingly retrieved a pair of your panties. It was painfully conservative. Weren’t girls your age supposed to be wanton little sluts? He held it up, examining it closely. Common sense told him to put it back, morality told him to put it in the hamper, and his own conscience was screaming at him to just drop the fucking panties. But something stronger compelled him to hold the panties to his nose and sniff them deeply. Your scent was intoxicating, and he sighed. Jay took a few more deep sniffs before he dropped the panties back into the hamper and walked down to the laundry room.

It was lockdown, he concluded as he set the basket down. Lockdown was driving him crazy, turning him into a libidinous beast. Never mind that it had only been three days - three days was enough. Three days of being forced to watch as your stepdaughter pranced around in shorts that just barely hid her tight little ass, of having to smell her, of knowing that there was pussy that he couldn’t get to…that would drive a monk to drink. As long as he didn’t act on it, Jay reasoned, he’d be fine.

Over the next week, you and Jay had fallen into a routine. You ate breakfast together, then you dispersed to your separate rooms- you had to do online school, and Jay had to navigate running a business over Zoom. You would eat lunch together, discussing the virus, your problems, or just comfortably sitting in silence.

Then you squirrel away back to your room. When that happened, Jay would generally do two things in an interchangeable order. He would either retire to his office and read a business management book or go over his emails, or he would rub his dick raw in his ensuite bathroom to the thought of stepdaughter pussy. Pornography wasn’t necessary; he could just close his eyes and imagine you in those stupid shorts, imagine you taking them off and crawling towards him, imagine his hands groping your forbidden body.

After that, he would cook dinner for the two of you, and you would watch a movie together. You liked to rest your head on his shoulder, saying that that’s how you and your mother would watch movies. So Jay would wrap his arm around you, his other hand clenching the armrest of the couch so tightly his knuckles turned white as he tried to fight off his basest urges. After that, you would go to your room, and Jay would go to his room and edge himself for half an hour.

Then, he would text your mother and tell her that he loved her.

–

A week after the lockdown had been announced, Jay checked his appearance in the mirror in the living room and frowned. He had a meeting in an hour, but he noticed that he was developing a unibrow. Normally, his wife would help him pluck the hairs.

You walked downstairs and noticed Jay scowling at himself. “What’s wrong?” you asked, standing next to him. By now, just your scent went straight to his cock, making it stir, and Jay sighed.

“Your mom’s not around, so now I’m turning into a caveman,” he said, pointing at his eyebrows.

Your face brightened. “I can pluck them for you!”

Jay’s face fell, but he quickly put on a mask of indifference. “Oh, you don’t have to, I can figure it out,” he said, waving his hand.

You reached out and grabbed his hand. “Please, Jay? It’ll be so fun. It’ll be therapeutic. Please?”

You were the devil, he decided, the devil cloaked in the vestments of a college student. “Fine,” he relented, and you cheered.

Jay wearily stood next to the mirror as you sprinted up the stairs to get your tweezers. You bounced back down shortly, opening and closing the tweezers with the steeliness of a surgeon.

“Sit down,” you ordered, pointing at the couch in the living room. Jay obeyed, sitting down on the far end of the couch. You straddled his waist.

“What are you doing?” Jay asked, his voice somewhat panicked.

“I have to get close to you,” you replied. Jay realized that his reaction was unwarranted and he was doing a shit job of acting like he didn’t want to fuck you, so he nodded.

As you plucked his eyebrow hairs, Jay rested his hand on her waist to stabilize you. He stared at you as you worked; you were so lovely when you focused. Jay decided not to fight it, just for now. He languidly rubbed a circle around your waist as you plucked his eyebrows, and his other hand rested on your knee. If Jay tried, he could almost forget who you were. He could just pretend like there was no relation, that you were a stranger, that it wasn’t wrong to feel like this.

“Done!” You put the tweezers on the side table and examined his brows by tilting his head this way and that. Jay continued looking at you. He leaned back so that he was resting fully on the armrest, and your chest pressed against his due to the slight shift in position.

Jay’s voice was low and rough. “How does it look?” His hand still caressed your waist over your hoodie, and he noted that you made no move to get up.

“Very nice,” you replied, both hands still on his face. “You look very handsome now.”

Jay smiled slightly, looking you up and down. “Yeah?”

You looked in his eyes and nodded. “Yeah.”

Jay wasn’t sure who had leaned in first, but he did know that he was the one who deepened the kiss. You tasted incredible, and you weren’t a bad kisser, either. Your lips were soft and you took your time; your hands still cupped his cheeks. Jay’s hand slipped from your waist and worked its way up your hoodie, resting on your stomach. His other hand crawled up your leg, and he was endlessly grateful that you wore those dolphin shorts all the time.

You were the one who probed your tongue at the entrance of his mouth, and you were the one who ran it along his teeth. He stroked his tongue along yours, tilting his head even further. Your hands slipped from his cheeks to rest on his shoulders.

Strangely enough, as he made out with his stepdaughter, Jay felt no qualms. All he could focus on was how good it felt, on how warm your little mouth was, on the way your body tensed as he ran his hands over you. Jay brought his hand higher, from your stomach to your ribs, until it was resting just below your breasts. He waited for you to pull away, to tell him to stop, but when you didn’t, he continued. Jay’s hand cupped your breast, and he briefly broke the kiss.

“You didn’t wear a bra?” he asked in an accusatory tone, kneading your breast.

You shook your head.

“You wicked little minx.”

You shrugged, placing your hands behind his neck. “I normally don’t wear bras around the house. I mean, it’s just you and me in here.”

“No,” Jay whispered. “It’s not ‘just’ me.” Jay leaned in to kiss you with renewed fervor. His other hand slipped up into your shorts, fondling your upper thigh. Gently, Jay began to push you down onto the couch, until he was resting his full body weight on top of you. His hand groped at your chest, and he used both of his hands to pull your hoodie off. Finally, finally, he would get to see your body without a massive piece of fabric hiding it.

Jay moaned as soon as he saw your naked torso. He momentarily stopped kissing you to suck your tits. Both of his hands ran up and down your thighs, and he relished in your little gasps and whimpers. Jay took his mouth off of your breast and looked up at you. “You like that?”

You nodded, your face contorted in pleasure. “I like it, Jay.”

You had all but given him the green light to do whatever he wanted to your body, and almost without his knowing he began grinding his hips against yours. After leaving sloppy kisses all over your breasts, Jay kissed you again, sucking your tongue over and over again.

He continued to rut against your clothed pussy, the friction assuaging the painful stiffness he felt in his cock. Jay knew he was pathetic. He knew how degenerate, how desperate, how sick he was. Only a freak would dry hump their stepdaughter on the couch. He didn’t even last an entire week. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to fully care, let alone to stop. Jay ground his crotch into yours, pressing you deeper into the couch, and he groaned in your mouth.

His hands were all over you now, stroking your back, your chest, your stomach, your thighs, and he was dimly aware of your own hands snaking up his shirt.

Jay broke the kiss again, sweat dripping down his nose. “You can’t tell anyone,” Jay said frantically as he began to unbuckle his belt. “Got that? Not your friends, not your classmates, not your mom. Do you understand me?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t enough. “Do you understand me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you said hoarsely, your lips already swollen. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Jay tossed his belt to the side and tugged his jeans down. “Our little secret, right?”

You shimmied out of your shorts. “Our little secret.”

Jay slid your panties down your legs and parted your legs, pushing one up the couch and leaving the other to hang off of the side. He glanced at you as he worked his cock a few times. “Are you a virgin?”

You shook your head.

“Good.”

“Why?”

“I’d never fuck a virgin the way I’m about to fuck you,” Jay said. Your eyes widened in apprehension, and Jay smiled.

He pushed himself inside of you roughly. As soon as he felt your pussy tighten around his cock, its warmth enveloping him, he swore. “Oh, fuck.” Jay kept your legs pushed open as he inches himself into you. At first, he shallowly thrusts into you with about half of his length. You’re already shuddering like a whore, whining and shaking, but you aren’t wet enough for his liking. Jay reached his hand down and stroked at the area above your vagina lips, eventually finding your clitoris. He rubbed it, just enough to get you nice and sopping wet. It didn’t take long, either; you must have been as pent-up as he had been, judging by the way you were gasping. Even just a few inches had you stuttering out some words that would make your mother blush.

He pulled out of you slightly, swirling his hips, before slamming his cock into you again. You moaned, a sound so gorgeous that he had to continue. Jay pounded your pussy mercilessly, his hands keeping your legs split open. His balls slapped against your thighs almost painfully as he kept up his pace.

“Should have done this at the start,” Jay huffed. “Should have been inside you the second lockdown started.”

You opened your eyes. “Why didn’t you?”

Good question. Why hadn’t he just fucked you like this when you had come running to him for comfort? Why had he bothered waiting? For propriety? For politeness? None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered now was the feeling of your pussy gripping his cock.

Jay smiled slightly as he imagined how your mother would react to this: her daughter splayed out on the couch, her tits bouncing up and down, her hand covering her mouth so her moans won’t echo all over the house, and her stepfather in between her legs, fucking her ruthlessly. The scary thing was, Jay didn’t think he could stop even if your mother had walked in. Your pussy felt too good, too tight, too warm, too inviting.

You were so wet that Jay could hear it, his cock making obscene noises as it ravaged your hole. Jay pulled out of you, breathing heavily. He dragged you from the couch and laid you flat on the rug.

“On all fours,” he said raggedly. “Now.”

You were weak, but you obeyed his instructions, displaying your red, aggravated pussy for him. Jay mounted you and fucked you like a dog, chasing his orgasm. His hands groped around your chest and he grabbed your tits while he pounded you. He leaned his head back and let out a primal moan.

Soon, your arms gave out and you collapsed onto the floor. Jay didn’t pull out of you, couldn’t pull out of you. He braced his arms on either side of you and slammed into you, pressing his entire body weight onto you.

He felt his orgasm approaching, and he sped up, grunting and groaning. Jay felt like he would die if he didn’t cum, and he fucked into you mindlessly. When his orgasm hit, he let out a strangled scream. He could feel the pleasure from his cock all the way to his fingertips; his hairline tingled as he emptied himself out in your pussy.

Jay didn’t know what he would do next. He didn’t know how you would act around each other. But he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had to do this again and again with you.

#jay x reader #jay smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #I don't like the title...

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st4rymoon · 1 year

Text

𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦

˚ ༘ *⭐︎ Miguel x afab reader

Warnings - 18+. smut. Some Angst. Enemy’s to lovers, sex with a plot, unprotected sex, breeding kink, breath play, arguing, both get physical (get in a fight but nothing too serious), other variants mentioned and Dr. Strange (why not bring him up), after care, teasing, possessive Miguel, biting, messy sex, semi-mean Miguel, pet names (doll, muñeca, princesa, chula), Spanish (translations added)

[pt.2 is out! → better than me pt. 2]

Miguel was obnoxious and self-absorbed, you knew that by now.

You were living your life as the Spider-Woman of your universe with no worries at all until a blonde-haired ghost-looking spider appeared.

You had somewhat of an idea of what she was talking about, after all, you had a Dr. Strange in your universe and he would never stop talking about the multi-verse.

He never mentioned that these variants would come looking for each other but hey, what did you know?

The blonde-haired girl begged for you to meet the others, calming you weren’t alone and had a group of others to bond with. But you had no problem being alone with such powers, matter of fact you enjoyed it.

There was no one to boss you around or scold you which was always a plus as a superhero. That carefree life you had turned sour as you agreed with the blonde-haired girl and went to meet the others.

“By the way my boss, OUR boss doesn’t know you exist… he’s practically found every spider in the universe. But I guess he forgot one, and by the way, I’m Gwen”

You smiled “Well Gwen, YOUR boss will be pleased to hear that it’s almost impossible to find every Spider-Man. There are millions of universes” you shrugged.

Gwen was taken aback by your words, she wasn’t aware you knew about these universes since a majority of the others didn’t. “How do you know?” She questioned with her arms crossed.

“Do you not have a Dr. Strange in your universe? A tall annoying brown-haired man? Middle-aged? No sense of humor? Come one you don’t have one!?” You gasped.

“Never heard of a strange before”

Both of you walked into a giant laboratory-like room, you heard chatter all around you as you looked above and saw dozens of spider variants on the ceilings and walls.

“GWEN! Gwen! May has been getting into trouble have you see- who are you?” A tired-looking brown-haired man looked at you in confusion. “I’m a rouge-killing monster called Spider-Man” you replied.

Both of their faces turned pale at your words “Gosh you guys have no sense of humor! I’m joking” you sigh. “Im a spider variant like all of you, now why’d you drag me here”

“Miguel isn’t going to like this… I’m Peter” the brown-haired man smiled. “And I presume Miguel is the big scary boss man right?”

“Thank you for the kind words” a loud voice boomed from behind. “Miguel! I found another!” Gwen smiles awkwardly.

“Mmh”

You turned to see an attractive middle-aged man with glowing red eyes “She knows about the multi-verse she was talking about some dude called Strange” Gwen nodded.

Miguel tensed at her words, his eyes glued to you as he made his way towards you. “What do you know about strange?” He hummed, circling you like his prey.

“Nothing that’s your business that’s for sure” you chuckle “Well I had fun, I’ll be heading out now” You rolled your eyes.

“I’m talking to you” Miguel yells “No your yelling, have a nice day” you wave as you shoot a web out and swing. Halfway through the swing, your web was cut, causing you to drop to the ground “WHAT THE FUCK!” You yell.

Miguel stood tall with a cocky smile on his face “We aren’t done talking” he shakes his head.

You knew very little about Dr. Strange, sure you’re well acquainted with the universally famous sorcerer but he was a private man. He called you when he needed help and that was it.

To your disbelief, you had no clue other spiders could be so damn annoying. “Well I am, I’m not going to say it again. I AM LEAVING.” You yell.

“She’s just like him” you hear a spider whisper “I AM NOT” you point a finger up at one of them “How could you hear that” they muttered. “Don’t you all have great hearing?”

“Not all of us” Peter shrugged. “What did they say?” Gwen asked. You ignored everyone and walked out of the room. Already halfway through the door, you felt a hand grip your arm.

Turning, you see Miguel’s ruby eyes staring at you. “I suggest you let go of me” you say calmly. It was a shame he was an ass, he was too good-looking to be acting the way he was.

“Threats don’t work on m-“You cut him off mid-sentence, kicking his ankle and making him fall back. You pinned him onto the ground, your leg on his chest and heel pressed onto his chin.

The look in his eyes was a mix of anger and shock.

The other spiders started yelling, Gwen yelling at Peter to stop this and during the chaos for some odd reason you saw a talking spider cat yelling “A cat?” You chuckled causing you to lose focus.

Within seconds you were now in Miguel’s position. His hand on your throat as he pressed his weight onto you “CALM THE FUCK DOWN!” He seethes.

Just as you were about to kick him where it hurts, his hand held your knee in place “Have to be quicker than that muñeca” he whispered into your ear. [t: doll]

Your eyes widened at the pet name. You swear you could feel your cheeks burn red and telling by the smile on his face you knew they were. “This is fun but can we have a normal conversation? Like civilized people?” He replied.

He got off you, holding a hand out for you to stand. You got up on your own, pushing past him as you heard a few whistles and ‘Miguel is flushed look at him’ from behind you.

“Fine. You have 5 minutes”

Miguel led you to his office, one hand on your lower back leading you. “Brave for a newcomer” the annoyingly attractive man smiled down at you “It’s obvious no one stands up to you, I’ll happily be the one to do so” you cooed.

“Sit” he commands while pointing at the chair in front of his desk. You nod and sit patiently for him to start “What do you know about Dr. Strange?” He questioned.

“He’s Dr. Strange what is there to know? He’s a private man for god sake. You surely have one in this universe, don’t you? He’s usually in every universe” you sighed.

“He’s never been in any I’ve visited”

“Or maybe you didn’t look well enough” you chuckle. “I have one in my universe and trust me you aren’t missing out. He only calls when he needs a helping hand and that’s about it” you shrugged.

“How do you know about the multi-verses?” He questioned. “Strange explained to me the importance of leaving it alone, we’ve seen universes almost disappear due to it. People have to learn you cannot change the past, present, or future without losing something so it’s best to just deal with it. In another universe, another life we are happy just think of that”

Miguel clears his throat at your words “Let me guess you lost something as well? By messing with this fucked up world? Who was it? A wife, mother, father, daughter?”

His hands slammed onto the desk in anger “NOT YOUR BUSINESS.” He seethed while he threw his papers on the ground. You knew he was hurting, That’s why he was acting like this.

“You know, I can tell this whole I’m mean and bad act is because your hurt. It’s not healthy to live in the past, we will just rot ourselves from within Miguel. Whatever you lost trust me you have it in another universe” You smile as you stand up, patting him on the shoulder as he doesn’t move a muscle.

“You don’t understand” he growled. “Trust me I do. Why do you think I’m friends with strange huh? I lost someone too you know. But instead of making everyone suffer with me, I decided to tr-“ you couldn’t finished your sentence before his lips crashed onto yours.

You were taken aback by the kiss but couldn’t help but moan into it. You pushed him back slightly “I don’t even know you Miguel” you smiled onto his lips “I know we can change that” he hummed as he lifted you onto his desk.

You were taken back by his actions, was a conversation all he needed to get this riled up?

“You know, out of all the spiders, no one’s said anything like that to me? Not one of them genuinely has a conversation with me” he sighs while pulling back. “Well, you don’t exactly let them say a word without screaming” you chuckle.

“That’s because they all pull away once I raise my voice. It was a surprise when a pretty thing like you came in acting like you own the place” Miguel cooed, his hands trailing up your hips as he pressed himself onto you.

“And I can tell you haven’t gotten laid in a while, you really gonna fuck a girl you just met huh?” You teased. “And are you really going to fuck a man you just met?”

“Maybe, If he can make me want it that bad” you winked, your hands ran down his chest, the spandex-like material of his suit outlining his chest and muscles in the most perfect way.

He chuckled at your response and wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting you before sitting down on his chair. You straddled him as he rocked onto you softly.

You’ve never done anything like this before, you were shocked by your compliance with his actions but you couldn’t help it. You told yourself everyone needed a one-time thing right?

“You sound so fucking pretty” he mumbled onto your neck, your soft sounds making him lose every bit of patience while you tangled your fingers into his hair.

You could tell he was wondering how to remove your suit, you were trying to hide your laugh but it came out either way.

“What’s so funny huh?”

“If you want to remove my suit you press this” You smiled as you grabbed his hand and lifted it behind your neck. His hand instinctively started massaging the nape of your neck as he pulled you into a kiss.

Completely off task with what you were showing him; each of you lost in the other's taste. “Ok, so how do I remove it?” He panted “Like this” You guided him as his fingers went on the hem of your neckline.

You pressed a button from the inside of your suit with his fingers “Like that” you whispered into his ear as you licked his cheek before kissing him.

Your suit was in his hands in a matter of seconds, tossing it somewhere behind him as his eyes admired your curves.

“Can’t believe I missed you out of all of the others” Miguel groaned. His hands not missing an inch of your body as you could feel his painfully hard bulge through his suit. “Take it off” you whined say you tugged at his. He chuckled at your neediness, and complying he tossed it along with yours.

You couldn’t believe other spiders like him existed. You’ve met a few but never ones that were this irritating and gorgeous, to say the least. “Like what you see princesa?” He mocked. [t: princess]

You rolled your eyes and pressed yourself onto him “I do”, you could feel his cock pressing onto your panties. His breathing was ragged and uneven as you nuzzled into his neck.

Sucking and kissing purple bruises onto his neck, your hands tangling into his hair. You felt his fingers tugging at your panties as a way to tell you to lift yourself a bit.

You did as told and let him toss your panties onto the pile of mess on the ground. “Although I love this pretty lace, it has to come off” he pouts as he pulls at your bra “Who knew you’d have this under the suit” he mumbled as he tossed your bra.

“Off” you demand as you tug at his boxers, he smiles in surprise as he sees you so needy “Alguien esta ansiosa”. “Oh shut up” you hiss as he leans onto the chair and brings your hands to his waistband. [t: someone is eager]

“If you want it so bad, take them off yourself” he cockily smiles. Your eyes narrow in annoyance but you were too needy to argue about it. Still on top of him, you tug his boxers down.

You clenched around nothing as his cock hit his stomach. You thought the whisper you let you wasn’t audible but your eyes shot up to his as he watches you with his hands behind his head.

“Love it that much already?”

You don’t bother responding as you go back to kissing him. His hands were back to their previous position, holding you tightly as you felt him rubbing between your folds.

“Shit..” you seethed. You felt his teeth sink into your skin, a loud moan coming from you causing you to slap your hands onto your mouth.

Miguel’s eyes shot up at your actions, his hands pulling them away as he pinned them onto your stomach “I don’t care who hears, hands on my shoulders”

As he ends his sentence he slams into you, your eyes rolling back while a shaky moan leaves you. He holds you onto him for a few seconds, taking in your soaked gummy walls before thrusting into you.

You could hear the wet pornographic sounds coming from the both of you as he fucked into you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he wrapped one arm around your waist the other hugging you onto him.

“Love it so much doll, fu- fuck you feel so good”

It was much more intimate than you thought it would be, the way he never broke eye contact even when you squeezed your eyes shut and muttered incoherent sentences into his chest he watched you intensely.

Miguel wondered if this would go anywhere, he hoped it did. He had no reason why he acted on his needs so quickly with you, he hadn’t slept with anyone in a long time and had no problem with it, but the moment he saw you sitting in his office it was like a switch flipped.

“Look at the mess you make muñeca, shit. This pussy was made for me” he huffed. You couldn’t even say a word, the way he felt slamming into you was euphoric.

You could feel every inch of him inside you, the way he curved perfectly in you with each of his thrusts was intoxicating.

You were making a mess, you could feel the cum dripping down your thighs as you bounced on him. “Migu- fuck all for you, only you” you whined. The words spilling from you caused him to fuck you deeper “Nadie más te va ver como te miras orita, eres mía muñeca. Solo para mi” [t: nobody else is going to see you the way you look right now, you’re mine doll. Only for me]

His tone was adoring, he loved seeing the way you clawed at his chest whenever he picked up his pace. Miguel couldn’t help but wrap a hand around your throat when you started to slump on him; lifting you he held you to his lips as he squeezed your throat.

“Feels good huh baby? Your eyes say it all” he groans onto your cheek, his hand still squeezing your neck. You can feel your vision getting hazy, your hand wrapped around his wrist as he smiled up at you.

He let go of your neck, a loud pant leaving you as you caught your breath. But before you could even think your mouth pressed onto his, you couldn’t help but kiss his saliva-covered lips.

His pornographic moans made you dizzy, his fingers piercing your hips as he fucked you senseless while you looked down at him with needy eyes.

You could feel the knot form inside your stomach as his pace picked up, each of his thrusts causing a shaky whimper to leave you as he watched you getting closer.

“O- oh- Migu- M-“ you were crying out words as the feeling of his cock slamming into you and the slight rubbing on your clit from his pubic bone was driving you to the edge.

“I know baby I know, let it out princesa. Gonna fill you full so they all know what happened in here” he chuckled. With that you let go, the thought of his cum spilling out of you made you drunk on him. [t: princess]

You were loud but he didn’t care to quiet you down, he loved hearing how good he was fucking you. “No one’s going to fuck you better than me, I just met you and you look like you’ve been doing this for a while” he cooed.

“You’ve fucked other guys like this huh? The first day you meet them you fuck them?” He questioned. You shook your head weakly, his cock still ramming into you as he watched you bounce along with his thrust.

“No? Don’t lie how many?”

“J- you only” you cried. You couldn’t take the overstimulation, tears streamed down your face as you felt yourself about to cum again. “Only me? How lucky am I huh?” He hummed.

You scratched at his chest, pushing him slightly as his finger moved between your legs and circled your clit. “N- oh m-“ you begged, you buried yourself into his neck as he whispered praise into your ear.

“Doing so good for me chula, feel s- so fucking good” he praised. You felt the mess between your legs run down your thigh, you hugged him as you felt yourself about to cum again. [t: pretty]

“I- Mig-“

“I know baby let it out, I’m f- go on” he seethed. You could tell he was close. His pace was sloppy and his grip on you was getting tighter. You cried out his name in pleasure, the 2nd orgasm hitting you harder than the first as tears streamed down your face.

Miguel’s loud moans filled your ears as he coated your walls. You could feel his cum dripping down to his lap as he messily fucked you onto him. His pace came to a halt, his grip on you was tighter than ever while he took in your warmth.

“Fuck…” he whispered as he kissed your jaw, peppering kisses up to your mouth and sloppily kissing you. Saliva was all over your mouths, the sounds of both of you sloppily kissing each other made Miguel groan.

“You still wanna leave?” He chuckles. Miguel fixes your hair, adjusting it back to normal as he whipped your tears and saliva with his hand. You shook your head, completely drained of energy as you buried yourself into his chest.

You were questioning why he was being so nice. He was just acting like a complete ass a few minutes ago and suddenly he’s treating you like you’ve been together all your lives.

“Do you know what’ll happen if a variant from different verses gets pregnant?” He hums. You shake your head, you’d deal with those thoughts later. All you wanted was to stay in his arms.

“Descansa, I’ll clean us up” he reassured. [t: rest]

#marvel smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara imagines #miguel o'hara #Miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #smut #miguel x reader

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wandasfavv · 2 months

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Make You Mine

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ummm stepmom Wanda being upset with you for hosting a birthday party and not listening to her??

Idkkk this is my first time writing anything SO PLEASE just give me chance. I’m not really sure what I’m doing but like it’s something and I wrote this in one sitting. So please ignore any mistakes I made

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Stepmom!Wanda x Fem!Reader, alcohol, intoxicated r, non/con, somnophilia, mommy kink, oral(r receiving), jealousy, mentions of straight relationship, just Wanda being pervy

The floor trembled under you as music played obnoxiously through the speakers. You had the house to yourself and since it was your 21st birthday, you hosted a party at your house. There was around twenty people or so that you invited, having known them from college or even before.

With the promises of causing no trouble and being good, your father decided to give you permission to celebrate with your friends. Your step mom on the other hand, not so much.

“Y/N no, I told you already I don’t want you and your friends making a mess in the house that I know you’re not going clean,” Wanda said sternly as she set the dirty dishes in the sink. It was so rare for the older woman to ever let you do anything surrounding your friends. Despite being an adult, she’s always treated you as if you were a kid who never knew how to take care of yourself, and you hated it. Here she was doing that exact thing.

“I promise I’ll clean everything, Wanda. Just let me,” you responded, helping her clean up the table from dinner just to prove a point. She sighed before looking back up and at you, her expression displaying a displeasured look. You, being persistent, kept trying. Begged even as you put on a pleading face. “Please, I’ll do check ins and make sure nothing breaks or anything.”

Wanda found herself amused at your attempt of convincing her, the use of ‘please’ being sorta cute. However, you breaking stuff or making messes weren’t her actual concerns. She just didn’t trust you with your friends.

There were so many nights where she’d catch you trying to sneak out with them, sometimes not being able to and waking up to see you in the morning covered with marks and hickies from whatever. It made her feel an itch whenever she saw you unawarely show off anything that didn’t come from her. Plus, she was always worried about your friends taking advantage over you and making you do stuff she just thought you shouldn’t be doing. And now that you’re planning on a party where’d you be unsupervised, and possibly going to be doing more of these things, she just couldn’t bear the thought.

“For the last time. No-“

“Hey come on it’s fine. Let the kid do what she wants, it’s her 21st birthday,” your father intervened, not noticing the anger and frustration on his wife’s face. He smiled at you, and went his way to Wanda through the kitchen, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s just take it as a chance to go on a date or something.”

The sight of him touching her and the word ‘date’ coming out of his mouth made your stomach churn. You didn’t know why though. Sure there were moments you found Wanda attractive and pretty even, but she was like a little less than twice your age and married to your father. It’d be weird to like her in any way like that. Right…?

“Well, thanks dad. I’ll go ahead and do it then,” you replied, your voice sounding taunting to Wanda as you glared up at her.

Excusing yourself, you went to your bedroom, trying to get the picture of the two out of your head. But before leaving, you noticed how Wanda somewhat pushed him away gently.

Back to the party, there you were taking shots and drinks down your throat like you’ve had before. Since you were now legally able to drink alcohol, everyone brought some combined with any that you found in the cabinets. You knew Wanda would probably be mad at you for taking some, but at least you left her favorite wine.

After a couple hours of playing games and enjoying your time letting the drunk feeling sink in, people began to leave, saying bye as they departed and said their birthday wishes to you. It was around 1am at this point, and you knew your dad and Wanda would be back soon. Though, you could barely see anything as you walked. After taking so much of the burning liquor and not considering the consequences, you felt completely sick and out of it, obviously not remembering your promises of cleaning up. Your phone was no where to be found and you had no clue about Wanda’s concerns.

Your last couple of friends helped you with a little bit of trash, picking up only after themselves however, and leaving most of it to you. Feeling lightheaded, you found your way to your room as you held onto the walls, plopping down on the bed once you were in as if you weren’t on the verge of throwing up. As you laid down comfortably, your eyes became heavy, leading you into a deep sleep in which you didn’t hear the car driving and parking onto the driveway.

Wanda came into the house, already prepared to yell at you after you didn’t answer her calls from earlier. She walked over the cups and napkins left on the floor toward your room, expecting you to be up and just ‘busy’ doing anything but cleaning like you said. But instead, she walked into you passed out on your bed, still in your uncomfortable clothing as you reeked of alcohol. She once again sighed out in irritation, not sure if she should be shouting at you or your father for letting you host a stupid a party.

She takes a few steps towards you, reaching her hand out to gently push the loose strand of hair from your face as you slept at the edge. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at your cute sleeping antics though, noticing your eyebrows create an indent in between and your nose twitch. Picking you up with her unusual strength, she put you into bed correctly, placing your head onto the soft pillow lightly. She paused for a moment thinking about her next move as she realized again the clothes you were wearing. They were revealing and provocative, something you’d never proudly wear in front of her or your father. Wanda bit her bottom lip, not knowing whether she should do what she’s thinking, but she did it anyway.

Slowly, she put her hands at the hem of your short top, trying her best to take it off you without you waking. She just didn’t want you to sleep in uncomfortable clothing, that’s all… Successfully pulling it off, she threw it down on the floor. Her eyes trailed down to your chest, which was still covered with your bra. She blushed a bit, finding your body beautiful yet so tempting her eyes then made their way to your bottom half, contemplating if it was a good idea to take your pants off too.

The sound of your father’s voice shook the thought out of her head. He called her name, wondering if everything was okay as the house was quiet, which wasn’t usual if it was Wanda yelling at you. She quickly got out of your room, hoping she wouldn’t be caught doing anything inappropriate with her husband’s daughter and went to her own bedroom, now ignoring the mess that surrounded her through the halls.

After about an hour, Wanda came back into your room. Just to check on you, maybe. She cleaned herself up, taking off any of the makeup she put on for the date she was just on, which was really just her having to suffer through pretending to enjoy whatever it was that they did. She was dressed in simple pajamas, just a shirt and shorts, and even then she looked perfect. Her oblivious husband was asleep now as well, and she took it as her chance to go back to your unconscious state. Walking gingerly to the side of the bed that you were on, she turned on the light on your nightstand and stared at your body again, thinking about taking off your pants like earlier. This time she did do it. Her hands went to the top of them, tugging them down with barely any force. Now leaving with you in only your undergarments, she found herself immersed in your entire being, her hand trailing down your body.

“Fuck, what am I doing…” Wanda whispered to herself as she bit the inside of her cheek in nervousness. You shifted in response to her touch, still in deep sleep as you unknowingly made her lose her composure. A soft groan left her mouth as you turned onto your side and had your back face her, exposing your ass. Looking back at the door and you, Wanda came to the conclusion that neither you or your father would be waking up anytime soon, so she crawled into bed with you on the other side, going under the cold sheets.

She’s never interacted with you with touch before, maybe just a couple hugs and light touches to your lower back, but never more as she didn’t really want to risk and indulge in anything. But seeing you now, your unconscious body, which wouldn’t know what’s about to happen, made her yearn for more.

Her hand made its way back to your face, cupping your cheek that’s faced up unlike the other which was adorably squished against the pillow. She leaned down placing a feather light kiss to your forehead to test you and to see if you really were heavily asleep. And you were. Receiving the green light to go further, her lips went father down to your nose, then to your mouth. Not caring if you were unconscious and intoxicated, she gently pushed her lips against yours, letting out a soft moan as she finally got to kiss you like she’s dreamt of from so many nights where she’d wake up with a mess in between her legs. Her hand went down to your waist, and squeezed it just a bit, but the action made you squirm and part from the kiss, once again turning and facing your back to Wanda.

Disappointed to not see your face, she breathed out. She still kept her hands on you though, wrapping an arm around your midsection and pulling you toward her body. She put her face into your neck, taking in your scent that remained besides the alcohol. “God, I need you so bad baby,” Wanda mumbled behind your ear. Her fingers from her other hand came up to unclip your bra, freeing your chest and allowing her to grope your breasts, still lightly as she wanted you to stay asleep. Her perverted actions were so different compared to how she’d usually behave around you.

Your body responded to her many ways as she touched you. You pushed your ass against her front, your panties being the only thing separating her from touching your father down. She groaned again at this, as if your body subconsciously wanted her to fuck you. And once a small and barely audible whimper escaped from your lips, she lost it. Her head spun from the way you acted, forcing her to find ways to control herself from just pinning you down and having her way with you. She bit down on your lower neck, making you once again let out another noise of disturbance.

“So needy even when you’re sleeping… fuck, I can’t stand you,” she said quietly against your skin, biting her lip and moving her hand down your tummy and further to your center. Her fingers reached the band of your underwear, causing her to huff out in annoyance of it being there still. Being a little less gentle, she tugged it down and immediately cupped your cunt. It was kinda rough as she desperately wanted to feel you. Her fingers went through your folds, collecting your wetness. Then, she reached up to her lips to taste you as she put them in her mouth, sucking your arousal off. She moaned, and already in love with how you tasted she wanted more of it.

Her body moved down, removing the sheets off of you and her. The soft yellow glow from the light on your body mesmerized her as she positioned herself between your legs. Parting them, she bent down and put her arm underneath your thighs before having them in a tight hold with her hands gripping the smooth flesh there. Wanda looked up at your sleeping self, admiring your beauty as her lip quivered from need with your pussy just centimeters away from her mouth. She stuck her tongue out, gently licking up and between your folds, up your clit. Your body quickly began to stir, and your eyes were forced shut as you turned your head. Wanda stopped momentarily, waiting for you to settle.

Once you stopped moving, she started to move her tongue against you again. Switching between licking around your sensitive nub and entering your cunt with her tongue, she moaned at how sweet you were, making her hold on you tighter to the point where light bruises were to form. Another small whimper mixed with a moan left your mouth as Wanda hit a particular spot within you. Your hips jerked up, and this only caused her to move roughly against and in your pussy. “Mm, waited so long to make you mine…”

Now that she was lost in pleasuring you and herself, you began to wake up from the slight aggressive movements. Your eyes opened, squinting from the bright light beaming beside your face. Confused, you closed your eyes again before recognizing a feeling between your thighs. Wanda noticed you waking up, no longer caring and actually glad you were. As you looked down you saw her face covered in your wetness mixed with her own saliva. Your jaw dropped from both shock and pleasure as she continued moving her tongue in and out of your increasingly soaked center. “W-Wanda..?” You shakily spoke, reaching down to her head, only to be stopped as her hands took yours and pinned them down beside your thighs.

“Shh… just let mommy take you, okay?” She said, noticing the way your hips bucked up against her face from the name she used for herself. “You’ve been so bad, you know that? You know how upset you made me, leaving a mess outside… and hanging out with all your dumb little friends…” she said lowly against your pussy, the vibrations of her voice making you moan and tilt your head back. Her mind shifted back to previous days at the mention of your friends. “So fucking annoying, coming home with all those marks on you and from who huh? Do they fuck you better than me baby?”

The constant questions and use of cuss words turned you on further as you never had nor expected Wanda to talk to you like this. Your mind was still hazy too, from just waking up and the after effects of drinking too much. “No… no m-mommy no,” you gasped, dumbly shaking your head. Wanda moaned, hearing you say her preferred term and getting drunk off your sounds. Her grip on your hands were now even tighter matching yours as you got closer to your orgasm.

Your moaning got louder as well, somewhat worrying Wanda as she didn’t want this time with you ruined by your dad waking up. So letting go of one of your hands, she reached up and covered your mouth, the pressure being harsh. Your noises were only muffled sounds of pleasure, still arousing to hear to Wanda. “Shut up sweetie, you don’t want your father to hear you, do you?” She questions, smirking slightly as you shook your head no. She loved the way you looked down at her, your eyebrows furrowed with a look of desperation and slight fear for bringing up that fact that he was in the other room down the hall.

As you were on the edge of cumming, your free hand went down to Wanda’s hair, grasping the soft locks of brown hair like you’ve always wanted. Her tongue kept going and swirled around the clit once again, really pushing you towards releasing all over her face and specifically in her mouth. You whined against her palm, signaling to her that you needed to let go. “You gonna cum, princess? Cum all over mommy’s tongue?” She asks in a condescending tone, smiling to herself as you tried to respond under her hand. She let her hand fall for you to speak and beg her for permission.

“P-Please mommy, please I wanna cum,” you begged, whimpering as you tried to hold back before she said yes. The hold on her hair got tighter, causing her groan again. Tears grew at the corners of your eyes and Wanda couldn’t help but get more aroused at the sight.

“Mhm, go ahead baby…” Wanda replied, going at a faster and rougher pace, battling against the tiring and numb feeling in her muscle. You let go the second you hear her, moving and grinding your cunt against her to ride out the orgasm that’s making your entire body tremble. Louder and higher pitched sounds from your mouth escaped, causing Wanda to instead move back up your body and shut you up by kissing you, shoving her tongue in your mouth and making you taste your own arousal.

“Uh-huh, good girl… so good for me,” she whispered, parting form the kiss and settling beside you in the bed, pulling you in her arms in a tight comforting hold laying down. The praise made you weaker, and with her pampering you by wiping your tears away while gently petting your head, it made you lost in your mind. You panted against her chest and held onto her hand still securely. She waited for you to calm down a bit before speaking again.

“Shhhh… it’s ok, just go back to sleep dear,” Wanda said softly and moving her arms to wrap around you. She figured you were still tired, from both the orgasm and the alcohol. She right of course, and you found yourself becoming drowsy in her arms.

“Wanda…” you suddenly said sleepily, catching her attention with your stable voice. She looked down at you, still comfortingly rubbing your side. The tired look on your face showing absolutely no signs of a single thought in your head was adorable to her and she smiled while responding to you with a small “hm?”

“I’m sorry for being bad,” you mumbled timidly, looking away for a moment as there was a permanent blush. Wanda laughed softly at you, her hands now to your cheek to make you look at her.

“You’re so cute… just make it up to me tomorrow okay, and then maybe we can do something like this again,” She responded, a loving grin on her face with a light pink tint on her cheeks. You nodded slowly and smiled at her. Wanda then kissed your head, shushing you to sleep. And you listened, saying a small goodnight before quickly beginning to snore softly into her neck once you shut your heavy eyelids just for a couple seconds in her warm embrace.

Part 2(Getting Closer)

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #top!wanda #mommy!wanda #lesbian #fem!reader #scarlet witch #i need her #elizabeth olsen

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 10 months

Text

𝐒𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐲

this banner took way too fuckin long to make istg

Summary: Catching your brother, Aegon, in a most compromising position starts your journey into sexual discovery.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), incest/Targcest, kinda innocent sister!reader, religious guilt, jealous Ae boys, voyeurism (accidental and noncon), slight dubcon, thigh riding, oral (m and f!receiving), squirting, loss of virginity, threesome, spitroast (if you squint), multiple creampies, and slight breeding kink

word count | 6.4k🤙🏻

All morning, during the breaking of their fast and now in the training yard, Aemond could tell his elder brother was trying so hard to not burst at the seams, his mouth in a perpetual smirk that made him and everyone around him uncomfortable.

Aegon always did this when he had a secret to share, he couldn’t wait to tell someone, even when he wasn’t supposed to. But that was the thrill of it, Aemond supposed, not that he could ever understand his brother’s motivations. He stopped trying to figure Aegon out a long time ago, but still, he knew his brother was going to blurt out whatever nonsense he was keeping to himself sooner or later, and figured he might as well get it over with.

“Speak now or I fear you’ll go blue in the face.”

“I caught her staring at my cock this morning.”

“What?” Aemond hissed, only one sentence uttered and he’s too easily exhausted by his brother’s ramblings. “Who?” He asked, already bored of the conversation, immediately regretting his decision.

“Our dear little sister.” Now, that got his attention.

“And what, brother, was your cock doing out in the open in her presence?” He growled, his fists balling up, nails digging into his palms.

“Relax, it was an accident. She came in to wake me for the breaking of our fast and…mini Aegon always gets a bit jumpy in the morning.” Aemond wished he had both of his eyes so he could roll them both dramatically. “I was a bit hungover and forgot I didn’t have any clothes on when I got out of bed.”

“Why must you traumatize everyone in our family, even her?”

“Oh, she didn’t look quite so traumatized at all.” Aegon smirked, causing Aemond to furrow his brows.

“What do you mean?”

“She looked intrigued, brother. Our little, sweet, innocent sister. I don’t even think she’s ever even seen a cock before, with the way mother and grandsire hover about her like vultures.” And then Aegon genuinely smiled, a somewhat devious smile, but a smile nonetheless. “I’m glad it was my cock she saw first. I’m glad it wasn’t yours.”

And that, earned Aegon a black eye, though Aemond easily got out of trouble by claiming it was a training accident.

It’s not like Aemond was jealous. You were his baby sister, so innocent and naive; he wanted to shelter you from all harm and obscenities, and now he had Aegon to worry about. Though, he did notice rage rising in his chest at the thought of Aegon giving you a taste of what adulthood could bring first. But he was also probably right in thinking you’ve never seen a man’s private area before. Why does the thought of that make Aemond’s own cock swell? Perhaps he would have to be the first man to muddy your innocence.

For you, you truly hadn’t meant to see your brother in such a situation that morning, you wished you could take it back, but you couldn’t. Now, you were burdened with the image of Aegon’s length burned into your mind and he chose to make it even worse by smirking at you all throughout breakfast.

You weren’t completely naïve as everyone seemed to think, you knew basic anatomy and how babies were made. You had not, however, seen a man’s penis in real life before. You didn’t even know to think that they could be so…large. Perhaps it was just Aegon? You couldn’t know for sure unless you actually investigated, but how unbefitting that would be of a noble lady? You already felt so sinful, the image of a naked Aegon constantly in your mind that you had to go to the Sept to pray. Of course, it didn’t do much but make you feel even more guilty.

Walking back to your chambers through the apartments after a late night snack in the kitchens after your trip to the Sept with your mother, you froze in your tracks as you heard a soft whining noise coming from your eldest brother’s chambers. Was he in pain?

Your face flushed with heat as you heard Aegon’s moan echoing in his chambers, the distant sound of slurping causing you to cringe, realizing he wasn’t in pain at all. But you were so intrigued, you couldn’t help but peek through the obvious crack in the door.

The sight was obscene, you’d never witnessed anything like it. A servant girl had her mouth on your brother’s length, bobbing her head up and down, her hand stroking what she couldn't fit, which was much. Though, Aegon didn’t seem to take lightly to that. You almost gasped when he grabbed onto the maid’s hair tightly, forcing her head down until she gagged, but she also didn’t seem to mind all that much. In fact, she was moaning and the more she moaned, you noticed, Aegon himself seemed to be in more pleasure.

You felt your heart stop as Aegon spotted you in the doorframe and made eye contact with you. Suddenly, he smirked and you realized that his chamber door might’ve been left slightly open on purpose.

Aegon kept his intense eye contact with you as he started to buck his hips into the girl’s mouth, his moans intensifying and his brows furrowed in concentration, and you couldn't look away. An unfamiliar throbbing started in between your legs, and you felt like crying, the feeling so foreign and quite scary. Then, Aegon started to speak.

“Fuck, taking my cock so well, aren’t you?” He was speaking to the maid, but all his attention was solely on you. “You gonna be a good little slut for me and let me come in your mouth?” The maid seemed to hum in a sort of affirmation, but Aegon’s gaze only shifted from your eyes to your lips, how they were slightly parted as you started to breathe heavily. “Such perfect lips, wrapped around my cock so sweetly. Fuck, would have you on your knees night and day if I could. Gods, I’m gonna come. You want it? Beg for it.”

You involuntarily let out a whine, the sweet little noise sending Aegon over the edge, letting out a strained groan as he painted the inside of the maid’s mouth with his cum. He smiled at you as he came down from his high, his eyes only seeming to darken at the sight of you still watching. But you became so embarrassed and ashamed, you fled the scene, locking yourself in your chambers and crying yourself to sleep.

Aegon couldn’t wait to tell Aemond.

And Aemond could’ve gutted Aegon right then and there the next morning as his wretched brother relayed the previous night’s events. He went too far, now you were probably scarred for life. Aemond didn’t like the thought of you marred and tainted by someone else. He wished you to stay pure forever, though he knew the idea was far-fetched in this world.

Aemond decided to check on you, perhaps apologize for their brother’s lecherous behavior. And approaching your chamber door and placing his ear to the wood, he could hear you crying faintly and his heart broke a little. He sighed, opening the door as quietly as he could not to scare you, wanting to be gentle with you while Aegon was more than a little rough.

Aemond’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of you. You were crying, but for a different reason than he originally thought.

You were in your bed, bare, with your hand between your legs. Your dainty fingers were pushing apart your soaked folds, desperately rubbing circles where you thought your clitoris was. Aemond’s cock swelled immediately, opting to stay quiet and watch you from the shadows, which he was thankful he was so good at.

You were frustrated, that much he could tell. It seemed like no matter how hard or how fast, you could never reach your peak. He felt sorry for you, truly, but he decided he could watch you forever like this. Tears rolling down your cheeks, your body writhing and twisting, trying to find the right angle but never achieving your intended goal.

Aemond could step in. He could go to you right now and help you reach your climax, over and over again. His cock twitched in his trousers at the thought of taking your maidenhead, making you come on his cock so many times you would beg him to have mercy on you. You were his little sister, your maidenhead would and should belong to him sooner or later, why not speed up the process?

Aemond almost took the step he would need to open your door all the way, but you cried out in frustration, giving up and removing your hand from yourself, groaning in pain. You curled in on yourself, hugging your pillow, hitting it a few times. You poor, poor thing, Aemond though. Maybe the thought of you being so desperate that you begged him to help you is what eventually got Aemond to walk away. But as soon as he got back to his own chambers, he made himself come to the memory of you touching yourself.

Aemond couldn’t wait to tell Aegon.

And Aegon was furious. How dare Aemond get to see you naked first? And how dare he not help you in your obvious time of need? You clearly didn’t know how to properly pleasure yourself.

Aegon wasn’t that selfish. If it was him that walked in on you, he would’ve jumped in bed with you and helped you relieve yourself…multiple times…in multiple ways. First, he’d teach you how to make yourself come, he was somewhat of an expert on the matter. Then, he’d make you come himself: on his fingers, his tongue, his cock, his thigh, his belly. Anywhere. Anywhere, Aegon thought, he’d have you use every single part of his body to make yourself release.

Aegon decided he’d be the first man to make you have a climax. He giggled as he imagined Aemond’s expression after the fact, knowing how territorial he was over you. Aegon knew his younger brother was in love with you, had been since the lot of you were children, but Aemond was also an emotionally constipated twat who’d rather lose his other eye than talk about his feelings. But enough about Aemond, who cares about Aemond? Aegon was now a man on a mission.

Aegon chose to ambush you, considering that’s what he was best at, his impulsiveness. Though, he probably could’ve chosen a better location than some secluded hallway of the Keep. Thankfully, he wasn’t a terribly picky person.

“Are you well, dear sister?” Aegon asked, jogging to catch up with you on your walk. He could tell you were thinking about that night, the way you never met his gaze and the few scarce glances you took of his clothed cock giving you away.

“Yes, thank you, brother.” You hurried out, starting to walk a bit faster, now desperate to get to your own chambers to attempt to fix the throbbing between your legs again.

“Something on your mind, darling?” Darling…huh, that was new.

“Nothing.” You stuttered, almost tripping over your skirts in an attempt to speed walk away, but Argon was there to catch you…and pin you to the wall. “Aegon! What on earth do you think you’re doing?” You gasped in surprise.

“You sure sound fragile and innocent for someone who craves their older brother’s cock.” Aegon pressed himself against you, his thigh pushing in between your legs slightly.

“I surely don’t know what you mean! Unhand me this instant!” You let out a high pitched whine as Aegon pressed his knee hard between your legs, brushing over that spot you were so desperate to find.

“Don’t act so coy, we both know how much you enjoyed watching me getting sucked off. Isn’t that right, sweet sister?”

“I…I didn’t mean-”

“Shh,” Aegon interrupted, pressing his index finger to your lips, entranced by how soft they were, “and I know you’ve been struggling recently. I just want to be a good big brother and help you out. I hate to think of you in pain.” He cooed in mock sympathy, and before you could ask what he meant, he started to grind your hips into his thigh, grinning devilishly at your strangled moan.

“A-Aegon…”

“Shut up.” He snapped, grabbing your roots at the nape of your neck, tugging harshly, making you cry out in pain. “Quiet now, or we’ll get caught…and you won’t find that release you’ve been so trying for.”

Your eyes widened. “How did you-?”

“Aemond just wanted to make sure you were okay, but instead he found you writhing about in bed like a wanton whore.” He tched disapprovingly, lifting up your skirts with his hand, pushing his thigh against your bare cunt. Aegon giggled darkly, “I can feel you soaking me through my trousers, dirty girl.”

“I’m sorry.”

Aegon smirked, surging forward to capture your lips in your first kiss, muffling your loud moan as he forced your cunt to grind on his thigh. It was forceful and sloppy, tongue and teeth clashing together; but you were shocked at yourself when you realized that you enjoyed it.

No, you thought, this was all wrong. This is exactly what your mother warned you about. If it felt good, it was a sin. You couldn’t dare disobey her, so you whined as you pushed Aegon’s mouth off yours, only for him to move down to suckle at your neck. “Brother, this is wrong.” You begged, your hips stuttering as you neared some sort of high.

“Tell me to stop.”

“S-Stop…”

Aegon grinned, and in a sing-songy voice, “That didn’t sound too terribly convincing, sweet sister.”

“Stop!” You spoke, more determined. “If my virtue is called into question, we’ll lose any potential allies we could gain through marriage!” You whisper yelled, trying to keep in your moans all the while.

Aegon giggled, as if Aemond would allow you to be married off to someone other than him. “You say that like it’s a horrid thing.” He forced your hips to continue their pace as he growled, “You’re an idiot if you think we’d let you be married off to someone other than us.”

“Aegon-!” You gasped. “Something's happening…” You spoke fearfully, your soft moans escaping you profusely.

“Good. That’s good. Come for me, darling.”

He pushed you over the edge, your body betraying you, making you feel sinfully euphoric when this was all so, so wrong. “By the Seven…” You’d have to pray day and night for a whole week in the Sept to even attempt to atone for this egregious act.

Aegon hummed, playfully disapproving. “You should pray to me, not the gods. For I am the only one who’s made you feel this way, yes?”

You nodded meekly.

“Let it stay that way.”

The next day, Aemond found it hard to be in your company knowing your dalliance with Aegon, who rushed to tell him right after it happened, jealousy and envy coursing through his veins. And rage, that you allowed such a thing to occur, though he knew his brother could be quite, er, persuasive. The memory of watching you try to gratify yourself also makes it quite…hard.

You and Aemond would often spend time in the library together, reading different books and trading them afterwards, discussing your opinions. But now what was once a relaxing and enjoyable occasion, was now filled with tension.

Aemond could tell you were nervous, the way you kept shifting in your seat, reading the same passage over and over again but never comprehending the words, not when you felt so vulnerable under his scrutinizing gaze. He knew that you knew he had watched you touch yourself pathetically, but you were terrified and wanted to avoid a discussion altogether. But not, Aemond couldn’t have that, not when you let Aegon make you come for the first time.

“Aegon told me what happened.” You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, no matter how soft his tone was, you were so on edge.

“It…It happened so suddenly, I didn’t know what was going on!” You tried to explain yourself, but you felt like you were just digging an even deeper hole for yourself. “I don’t know what happened…”

“Did you enjoy it?”

You blushed, avoiding his gaze. “I…I…”

You gasped as Aemond grabbed your jaw harshly, forcing you to look at him, his gaze piercing. “Did. You. Enjoy it?”

“Yes.” You blurted, tears coming to your eyes, your face burning with shame.

Aemond hummed, a small, almost imperceptible smirk adorning his face. “Do you want to feel that feeling again, dōna mandia?”

“W-What?” You stuttered. “I don’t even know what that feeling was.”

“Don’t worry, sweet sister. If you’d allow me to educate you?”

“Aemond…I don’t.”

“Shh,” He cooed, your eyes widening as he sank to his knees in front of you, “let me teach you…”

“I suppose…if it’s for the sake of education.” Besides, it’s not like you had the physical strength to stop your brother from pushing up your skirt, a lust filled gleam in his eye. That throbbing coming from your core started up again, and you realized it was arousal, but you didn’t know a woman could feel such things. You were only ever taught a man would…become engorged, to pass his semen into the woman, hopefully creating a little life in the process. You’ve heard that it felt pleasurable to a man, but never a woman. The woman would have to lie there while the man did all the work, putting the latter in immense pain. It didn’t sound too terribly alluring, but then that day with Aegon…

Your thoughts were interrupted when Aemond kissed your core, his breath fanning over the slick that had gathered there, a weak gasp escaping your lips. “Poor thing, so needy, aren’t you?” He spoke sympathetically, his tone not that genuine, but made you shiver nonetheless. “I’m sorry you had to struggle so, but I’m here to help you now, sweet girl.”

Parting your folds similarly to how you did the other day, he planted a sloppy openmouthed kiss to your most sensitive area, making you let out a loud gasp. You whined as he placed his thumb there, rubbing torturously slow circles over it. “This is what you were trying to find, isn’t that right? This is how you were able to feel so euphoric with our idiot brother. He was cruel to not teach you about your own body, leaving you stranded. But I must admit, I’m glad that I can teach you instead.” Your mind went hazy at his words, his thumb not stopping its ministrations, making it difficult to comprehend what he was telling you. But gods, you did not want him to stop.

“I thought-” You quickly stopped yourself, too embarrassed to speak your mind.

“Tell me.” Aemond insisted.

“I didn’t know…a woman could feel this way.”

Aemond frowned, caressing the inside of your thighs was his other unoccupied hand. “The truth is, men are afraid to give women pleasure, fearing it will give them too much power over them. But I suppose that it is sometimes true. I’m afraid you have much power over me, mandia.”

You let out a strangled moan as Aemond surged forward, running his warm tongue over your folds like a man starved, his efforts focused on your bundle of nerves, driving you so easily to your peak. You gripped onto his hair like a lifeline, trying to survive this onslaught of pleasure. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the feeling, even less the way you were receiving it. It’s like Aemond was in the exact position Aegon’s maid was the other night, on his knees with his mouth on you, and you wondered if your eldest brother felt as weak with pleasure as you did now. But from what you could tell, Aemond was receiving pleasure from this as well, even though there was no stimulation to his length.

Aemond’s moaning caused vibrations that threatened to encompass you completely, your walls pulsing and contracting around nothing. Then you felt prodding at your entrance, a finger deftly slipping inside you without warning, causing you to cry out. Even with just one of Aemond’s fingers, you felt so full. How in the world would you be able to fit a man’s member inside when the time comes? He curled his finger inwards, hitting a spot inside that you didn’t even know was there. “Do you feel that, little one?” He smiled as you nodded feverishly. “That is one of the many other pleasure spots in a woman’s body. Though, it can be more difficult to find, considering its location. Most of the time, a woman needs stimulation to her pearl to find release, but there are some who can come from this spot as well, if their lover is adept enough. Would you like to find out if you are one of these women?”

You couldn’t even get an answer out before Aemond started to thrust his finger in and out, adding a second when he thought you were slick enough, curling in a come hinder motion that you swore you could see stars dot your vision. More and more, he increased the pressure to your front wall, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt something build and build until you froze. “Aemond, s-stop-! It feels like I have to-”

Aemond ignored you, in fact, only seemed to increased his thrusts until you were practically wailing, a gush of wetness shooting out of your core, coating Aemond’s hand with clear fluid, your face flushing with heat as you realized what you’d done. “Gevie.” He spoke so softly, you couldn’t possibly be embarrassed anymore. You twitched and whimpered in overstimulation when Aemond licked up your puffy folds, humming as he tasted your release. “So good. Aegon didn’t make you do that, did he?” He smirked proudly, at you and himself.

“I didn’t even think that was possible…”

“Well, I’d love to make you come like that again and again, but I’m afraid it’s nearing supper time. Perhaps I could give you a proper educational lesson soon?” Still dazed and your mind hazy with pleasure, you nodded absentmindedly, causing Aemond to let out a little chuckle as he rose to his feet, adjusting his trousers with a grunt. He leaned down so that his lips were right next to your ear, “I’ll see you at the dinner table, sweet sister.”

And after a long miserable supper full of tension, for you anyway, Aemond took Aegon aside to boast in his talent.

“You made her do what?!” Aegon shrieked, thankfully not loud enough to be heard past the musicians that were still playing after the dinner. “Tell me how you did that, brother! You must!”

Aemond rolled his eye. “Perhaps you should spend more time reading and actually educating yourself rather than mess around with the chambermaids and ladies on the Street of Silk.”

Aegon scoffed dismissively. “Who has time for reading?” I would hope the future lord of the Seven Kingdoms would make the time, Aemond thought coldly. He watched Aegon in disdain as he watched you take your leave back to your chambers, bidding your mother and grandsire goodnight, a dreamy expression on his face. “I want to be the one to take her maidenhead.”

Aemond growled as he grabbed ahold of the collar of Aegon’s shirt, pushing him against the nearest wall. “You shall do no such thing.” But the elder brother only grinned playfully, making Aemond nearly explode in rage. “She’s mine. She will be wed to me someday, not you.”

“Well, I suppose we’ll see. May the best brother win.”

Aemond knew he was the better brother, and he knew he couldn't wait around for Aegon to take what is rightfully his.

As soon as the moon rose up into the sky, most of the Keep’s residents settling down for the night, Aemond quietly left his chambers through the secret passageways, stalking his way to yours. He was already half hard, imagining your look of surprise, imagining your cries of pain and pleasure as he stretched you with his cock for the first time. He mindlessly started to walk faster, desperate to finish this tedious competition.

Aemond underestimated his elder brother, and Aegon knew that. Everyone underestimated him, but rightfully so. But when it came to pleasures of the flesh, Aegon was right there, like a good studious boy. But even he was surprised he got to your chambers before Aemond did.

You never failed to take Aegon’s breath away, no matter what you were doing. Much like now, you were simply brushing the tangles out of your locks while sitting at your vanity, the moon shining through your windows giving you an ethereal glow. Unfortunately, Aegon couldn’t silently admire you for long as you much too quickly noticed him in your mirror.

“Aegon?” You squeaked, placing your hand over your heart in surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, little sister.” He tried to not take your body in, only in a thin little shift that barely left anything to the imagination, but ultimately failed.

“What are you doing here, Aegon?” You almost scowled, honestly getting exhausted at the attention your brothers were giving you as of late.

“I can’t wish my dear sister goodnight?”

“We both know those are not your true intentions.”

Aegon shrugged, a lazy smile on his face. “You caught me. I’m a villain. What shall you do to punish me, hm?”

Your face flushed at his words, the thought of having to give out a punishment made an unwanted pang of arousal resonate through your lower belly. “You should leave, mother doesn’t like me having visitors when she’s not present, she’d have a fit if she found out you were in here.”

Aegon ignored your words, in fact, they seemed to spur him on further. You tried taking a step back as he moved closer to you, but letting out a small gasp as the back of your thighs hit your vanity. “Let her find out then.” And without another word, his lips were on yours, snaking his hand around to gently tug the roots of your hair at the nape of your neck, forcefully shoved his tongue in your mouth with an obnoxious moan.

“Aegon-” You tried pulling away, “stop.” But he wouldn’t have it, using both his hands to pull you as close as possible, your chest pressing against his. His knee found a similar position between your thighs like he did the other day, making you grind your core against him.

“I heard Aemond got to taste your sweet little cunt,” He said disapprovingly, “made you come so hard you made a mess all over his hand. But I can assure you, darling, I can make you come with just my big cock. Would you like that?”

You shook your head, trying to flee as he dragged you to your bed, hearing the sound of his belt unbuckling as he ripped your shift right off you. “Aegon, please-!”

“Shh,” You cried out as he ran his fingers through your folds, grinning at how much slickness was gathered there, “you’re so wet for me. You can say you don’t want me as much as you want, but your body is telling me a different story.”

That was the problem, you did want him, but you also wanted Aemond. You couldn’t possibly have both and you didn’t want to have to choose too early. “This is a bad idea, brother, please.” Your words fell on deaf ears, Aegon replying by burying his face in your cunny, slurping up your essence and moaning at the taste.

“Fuck, better than I couldn’t imagined. Aemond’s a fool to think he can have you all to himself. This sweet pussy needs as much love as it can take.”

“Aegon!” You cried out as he suckled on your nub, your body jolting and writhing violently as he quickly began to overstimulate you. “Too much, it’s too much!” You wailed, trying to pry his mouth from your core, to no avail, until a deep growling voice echoed through your chambers.

“Now what do we have here?”

You and Aegon both went wide eyed at the sight of Aemond, his eye glazed over in a dark glare. “Brother,” Aegon smiled, “welcome. You’re just in time for the feast.” He teased, only for Aemond to tear his brother away from you, making you let out a pained whine at the loss of stimulation.

“I told you that she’s mine, you dirty bastard. Her lips, her cunt, her whole body included.”

You didn’t know what came over you, but your hand lowered until you reached the combined wetness of your slick and Aegon’s spit, the lubrication adding to the pleasure on your clit. Seeing your brothers fighting over you awoke something primal in you, and you couldn’t resist how desperate it made you. “Aemond…” You whined, bucking your hips against your fingers.

Aemond and Aegon both looked down at you, writhing and whimpering for release and suddenly, their rivalry didn’t seem to matter all that much. “I never was good at sharing, but I suppose…just this once.” Aemond whispered, lowering himself to his knees, replacing your fingers with his tongue.

Aegon grinned as he moved around to kiss you passionately, palming himself through his trousers and taking his hard cock out of its confines. You didn’t even comprehend him taking your hand and placing it on his length until you felt it, the silky skin warm and pulsing in your palm. “Stroke me, like this, sweet girl.” He guided your hand movements, letting go as you got used to the rhythm, your ministrations stuttering as Aemond’s tongue pushed you closer and closer to your peak.

Before you could reach your climax, Aemond pulled away, removing all his clothes as you begged to come, Aegon grunted as your grip tightened. “Let me show you how I made her come the other day, brother. It is truly a sight to see, and I’m feeling generous.” Aemond spoke softly, pushing you back farther up your bed, spreading your legs as far as possible.

Aegon eagerly placed himself between your legs, pushing two fingers inside of you at Aemond’s instruction. You moaned loudly as Aegon started to curl his fingers against that spongy spot at your front walls, that familiar sensation building and building. “That feel good, darling?” He teased.

“Yes!” You stuttered, whimpered as Aemond sat beside you, kneading your breasts in his hands and placing sloppy kisses at your neck as Aegon continued to bring you to your peak. “Oh, gods, Aegon-!”

“She’s close, keep fingering her until she starts to leak, then pull out and rub her clit. If you’re lucky, she’ll soak your face.” Aemond instructed, and all you could do was be at their mercy.

Aemond held you down as you started to buck wildly against Aegon’s fingers, the lewd squelching noises coming from your cunt making your face flush with heat, feeling like your blood could be sweating through the pores of your cheeks any minute. You were babbling nonsense as you felt your peak swiftly approaching, tears dripping copiously down your cheeks, barely registering Aemond’s fingers wiping them away as he softly cooed praises into your ears. “Yes, yes, yes-!” You wailed, feeling that gush of wetness burst out of you as you came, hearing Aegon’s laugh of surprise as you shot your release all over his hand, chest, and face.

“Fuck, that was so…”

“I know.” Aemond interrupted. “Such a good girl for us, isn’t she?”

Aegon smirked. “For us, huh?”

“Don’t push it.” Aemond shoved Aegon out of the way, manhandling your body like you were a ragdoll, your intense release rendering you completely useless. But they were far from done with you yet, if their fully erect lengths told you anything. All you could do was wait until you felt Aemond’s cock prodding at your entrance, the tip much thicker than his or Aegon’s fingers.

“Be gentle…please.” You begged, your words slurring together slightly.

“Yes, brother,” Aegon spoke, “be gentle with her, because I won’t be. You know that.”

Ignoring his brother’s words, Aemond leaned down to kiss you sweetly. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll go as slow as you like.” Causing Aegon to scoff at the sentiment.

You whimpered as Aemond slowly pushed into you, the stretch so incredibly painful despite being prepped so thoughtfully beforehand. And even though Aegon acted disgusted by Aemond’s kindness, you could tell he didn’t want you in pain by the way he had your head sitting in his lap, leaning down to kiss all around your face as you tried not to cry out in pain. You and Aemond let out loud moans as he finally bottomed out, hitting the ends of you and making you feel so full.

“Seven Hells, so tight.” Aemond groaned, thrusting in and out of you as slow as he could manage. “You’re doing so well, ñuha zaldrītsos, so fuckin’ well.” The praise went straight to your core, making your walls clench around him. “Shit, don’t do that. I want this to last.”

“Gonna come so quickly already, little brother? I must say, that’s really disappointing. Don’t you want to make her come too?”

Something seemed to snap inside Aemond at his brother’s taunting words, a yelp escaping you as he flipped you over on all fours, entering you from behind, the new angle making you sob in pleasure. And Aemond wasn’t keeping a slow and steady pace this time. You practically screamed as his shaft bullied the sensitive spot along your walls, your hands finding Aegon’s to keep yourself from floating out of reality.

“Fucking her to your liking now?” Aemond spat, grunting loudly as you kept clenching around him. “She’s close again already. How’s that for disappointing?”

Aegon giggled, sitting back on his haunches. “I was only jesting, brother. But now, with this new position, she can finally wrap those pretty lips around my cock like she’s wanted to do for so long now. Isn’t that right, darling?”

You couldn’t really respond properly with Aemond hitting the end of your cervix with every deep and harsh thrust, your uncontrollable moans interrupting anything you were trying to say.

“Go easy on her. She’s not some whore from the Street of Silk. She won’t be able to take all of you.” Aemond warned.

“I’m not that much of an idiot.” But Aemond only raised his brow skeptically, watching in a threatening gaze as Aegon lowered your head down to his cock. “Want to make me feel good too, hm?” You nodded as best you could, opening your lips slightly as Aegon pushed his thumb inside. “Suck.” And you obeyed, closing your lips around his thick thumb, swirling your tongue around the digit, coating it in your drool. “Good girl, now just do the same thing to my cock, okay?”

With a surprising surge of confidence, you wrapped your lips around Aegon’s length and started to suck just as he instructed, eliciting a moan from the man. It was hard not to moan around his cock as Aemond’s kept building a release inside you, but then you remembered how it seemed that maid moaning around his cock made it more pleasurable for him, and so you decided to not hold back any of your moans.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” Aemond moaned, speeding up his thrusts, the pace hurdling you towards your own peak. You had to pull off Aegon to breath, moaning and clenching around Aemond’s cock as the waves of euphoria washed over you, effectively milking Aemond of his own release, his spend shooting deep inside you could practically feel your womb expanding with his seed.

“My turn.” Aegon growled, leaving your side to push Aemond out of the way, giving you no time to recover as he quickly replaced Aemond’s cock with his. “Oh, Seven Hells, fuck-! You weren’t jesting about how tight she is.” He shuddered, cunt struck by just one thrust.

“I suppose we never take each other seriously.” Aemond mused, moving to sit beside you, kissing you while you pathetically tried to keep yourself upright but failing miserably as Aegon thrusted into you fast and hard, his own release nearing quicker than he would like by the volume of his moans. “And I thought I was quick to come.”

“Shut up-oh!” Aegon’s cock pulsed inside you, twitching as he was right there. “You know now how irresistible this pussy is, fuck, yeah!” You both moaned in tandem as Aegon finished inside you as well, pulling out to watch as the mixture of his and Aemond’s cum leaked out of your swollen cunt. Aemond couldn’t help but watch as well, his gaze fixated on the way the white fluid dripped down your thighs, making a puddle on your sheets. “If our seed takes, who do you think mother will marry her to?” Aegon asked absentmindedly.

“Me.” Aemond said easily, meanwhile you were struggling to even catch your breath, your body shaking as you were coming down from your high.

“What if I want you both?” You asked meekly, wincing as you tried to sit up, Aegon having to help you. It was hard to resist your puppy dog eyes, looking up at them with your leftover tears and they were goners. You had them wrapped around your pretty finger.

Aegon and Aemond shared a look, a look that said a million words all at once and nothing at all. Perhaps it was their closeness in age, or something practiced and rehearsed, but they seemed to understand each other despite their differences. “No matter what, darling, you will have us both.” You probably should’ve understood that as a threat rather than romantic reassurance.

It wasn’t but the very next day that your mother announced that you’d be married to both Aemond and Aegon, like a reverse Aegon the Conqueror with his two sister wives. Your mother was furious but had no choice in the matter, no one would have you now that you were sullied, all chances of being married for an advantage was thrown out the window along with your innocence.

Though, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, not when your beloved husbands devoted their entire lives to you ever since the wedding day.

@valeskafics tagging you cause i know you were excited lmao

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii targaryen x f!reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x fem!reader #aegon ii targaryen x targaryen!reader #aegon ii targaryen smut

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andypantsx3 · 4 months

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READY OR KNOT | 2 | TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you... TAGS/WARNINGS: pro hero au, fem + afab reader, omegaverse, alpha shouto, beta reader, misunderstandings, courting behavior, slightly case fic-y, undertones of sexual violence (not between main pairing), aged-up characters, eventual smut, 18+ minors please dni! LENGTH: 4.9k, 2nd of 7 chapters

It turned out it was not so easy to forget what had happened with Shouto. Especially when Monday morning rolled around, and with it, some very pressing questions about the party.

Mina found you first thing in the morning, already up to your eyeballs in the case file at your desk. A frown marred her pretty mouth as she rounded the corner into the case analyst area. She neatly dodged your deskmate’s ginormous stack of paperwork, nearly as tall as she was, eyes homing in on you like dark little missiles.

“I heard about what happened with Suzuki,” she said, looking you over with uncharacteristic concern. Her eyebrows were drawn, her features pinched. It was an expression that didn’t overtake her cheerful visage all too often. “Are you okay?”

You blinked up at her, the name escaping you for a moment, until you matched it up with the support alpha from the party on Friday. Your lips downturned in reflexive distaste.

“I’m fine. You must have heard that Shouto scared him off,” you answered. “All he really managed to do was imply some stuff.”

Mina’s eyebrow twitched, like she had more questions on that, but she dutifully adhered to the matter at hand first. “I did hear that and we are going to be discussing that in a second. But that doesn’t mean you’d still be okay with everything that did happen. I’ve got a meeting with HR about Suzuki this afternoon, and I’m thinking of firing him.”

You jolted, a quick pang of guilt striking through you. Firing him. That seemed a very intense option.

You thought Suzuki was an asshole, sure, and you remembered all too well the horror that had overtaken you as he’d reached for his belt. But you also knew he had been drunk out of his mind—drunk enough that he thought you were an omega of all things, somehow perceiving things that weren’t even there.

You’d thought about it a lot this weekend, running over the events in your mind, and while the whole incident left a sour taste in your mouth, you thought Suzuki probably had been close to alcohol poisoning considering how strongly he smelled of Tetsutetsu’s horrible drink. He wasn’t exactly sound of mind, the lines a little blurry.

You’d never waylaid anyone like that while intoxicated, but you had done and said your fair share of things you regretted when you’d sobered up. You didn’t know what to think.

You looked up at Mina, finding her watching you consideringly. “No?” she asked.

You scrubbed a hand over your face, unclear what the right thing was. “I saw him and he was like, really not all there, Mina. I think he should be punished for sure, but what if you gave him a warning that if this happens at all again, he’s gone?”

One of Mina’s eyebrows arched. “Shouto said he was holding you against the wall even after you said no.”

You could feel your nostrils flare in anger at the memory, the feeling of that hand against the wet patch on your shoulder, unbudging.

“He did, but he also thought I was an omega, Mina,” you said. “I think he was close to alcohol poisoning, actually. He hasn’t caused any other trouble like this, has he?”

Mina shook that head of wild pink curls. “No, he’s been a model employee thus far. But I still don’t like it. That’s not what the Pink Riot agency is.”

A sigh filled your lungs. The support of Mina and Kirishima was enough for now. “I don’t like it either. But he was drunk, and nothing did actually happen, thanks to Shouto. Give him a warning that any other tiny slip up means firing, and I will be satisfied.”

Mina looked hesitant, dark eyes searching over your face, but eventually she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “Fine. Once and only because you’ll need an accurate record from support in your investigation and it will be harder to get if he’s gone. But he will be fired if I hear even a whiff of a rumor again.” She paused. “And you’ll have to talk to Eiji, because he’s going to like this even less than I do.”

That wrung a smile out of you.

Kirishima was a good alpha and seemed to think of the agency almost like his pack. As easygoing as he was, he guarded his people resolutely, like a farm dog patrolling a chicken coop. You could almost imagine him standing at attention, head forward and tail pointed like an arrow.

As heartwarming as that image was, that didn’t mean you wanted to be the one to tell him though. You shook your head, throwing out your hands. “Oh no. Your alpha, your problem. The one privilege of my secondary gender is I’m not part of this shit.”

Mina clucked, sighing. “He is my problem.”

You laughed, knowing very well she’d know how to solve it. But her expression shifted, suddenly looking sly, and you realized she was about to saddle you with another problem.

“You’ll have to tell Shouto then,” she said, her voice deceptively light.

You blinked, eyebrows raising. Shouto…? “Why the heck would I need to tell Shouto?”

A grin slowly crept over Mina’s mouth, and she leaned in conspiratorially, looking altogether too pleased. Her hot pink nails settled on the edge of your desk, tapping delightedly. “Because he’s your assigned supervising hero. And you’ll be seeing him again in just a few minutes.”

A sudden flurry of butterflies erupted in your stomach, your mind flashing through the feeling of Shouto over you, tall and strong and warm, pressing you carefully to the wall. You could all but feel the whisper of those pretty eyelashes on your skin, feel his careful exhale, the brush of his mouth against your throat.

Your ears prickled with heat, and you could feel your face go slack in shock. He would be here—? In front of you again?

“He’s—what?” you garbled out, trying to dispel the phantom feeling of Shouto against you.

Mina looked downright smug. “He asked to be assigned right after I spoke to him at the party on Friday. Interesting, don’t you think?”

Heat licked at your cheeks. “Is it,” you managed tightly. “That’s… nice of him.”

“Very,” Mina agreed. “Especially since I heard about what happened after Suzuki left.”

You hated her.

“I’m a beta,” you reminded her, not liking the implication.

Mina’s dark eyes rolled. “Eiji liked me even when he thought I might present as a beta.”

“That’s different,” you told her, floored that you’d sidetracked into this so quickly. “I’m actually a beta. Also what the hell are we even talking about. This is a work case.”

Mina flapped a hand at you. “I’m sure you’ll both work it very hard, very thoroughly,” she said with no small amount of relish.

You seized the case file in question, holding it up between you like a shield, flapping it at her in turn. The manila folder flopped stiffly, the pages making a sort of wobbly sound. “Why are you like this,” you hissed.

Mina’s eyes glittered, and she opened her mouth to respond, when the soft tread of a boot in the hall made her perk up. Her grin went unholy. “Speak of the devil,” she said.

Shouto certainly did not look like the devil, as he rounded the corner. The fluorescent lighting made a sort of soft halo off the glossy strands of his distinct two-toned hair, and his features were just as angelic as you remembered—finely-wrought and almost deliberately formed, as though he were sculpture from the hands of a master. He was almost too beautiful to look at this early in the morning, and you felt your breath draw up short in your lungs.

He blinked when he saw you, those heterochromatic eyes widening nearly imperceptibly as he approached.

“Morning, Shouto-kun,” she purred. You hated her.

“Good morning,” he said, his tone low and soft. Your fingers tightened on the file folder, bracing yourself against the loveliness of the sound.

A flush rose to your cheeks as you did so, and Shouto’s eyes followed you curiously. Beneath the high collar of his hero uniform, you could just glimpse a flash of his scent patches, neatly placed as usual. You wondered absently what he would smell like if you peeled them back and leaned in close. As a beta, your nose was not as good as the other genders, but if you got in close enough, and if Shouto’s scent was strong enough, you’d probably be able to tell.

He looked like he’d smell delicious.

A cackle from Mina alerted you to the horrifying fact that you’d just been staring at Shouto as he approached, mouth open and expression vacant.

“Uh… good morning,” you managed.

The corner of Shouto’s mouth quirked up, and something beneath your skin tingled in response.

“I hope you are well,” he murmured.

You could see Mina’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of you with barely suppressed glee, and a sudden bolt of shame went through you.

Just because it was super obvious how hot you found Shouto didn’t mean he felt the same. He was a fucking pro hero for crying out loud. Rescuing people was what he did—the save on Friday did not have to mean anything.

Plus, knowing for sure that he was an alpha had closed the window on your little celebrity crush. Out of the hundreds of couples you’d met in your lifetime, you’d only ever met one alpha-beta pairing—both tradition and biology seemed to win out in almost all mated pairs, alphas and omegas unable to help their inherent attraction to one another.

And with that in mind, it was actually super disrespectful of you to even think about this impending partnership in any terms less-than-professional.

You rallied yourself, inclining your head respectfully to Shouto, gesturing with the case file in your hands.

“Yep, I’m good. I’m grateful for the save and I’m sure I’ll be even more grateful for your help on this case.” You turned to your boss, routing her back on track. “Mina, what information have you shared and what do I need to get him up to speed on?”

Mina’s pout was so defined it could be seen from space. You ignored her, raising your eyebrows.

“I only put the call out to other agency heads for a supervising out-of-agency hero. Just that it’s an omega assault case possibly involving a pro, and your name as the lead investigator.”

Your gaze returned to Shouto. He was still watching you intently.

“How much time do you have before you’re needed back at your agency?” you asked him. “Do you want to grab a conference room and I’ll get you up to speed? I’m sure Mina has a lot to do just now.”

He nodded, his hair falling into his eyes in a way that should not have wrung the oxygen out of the atmosphere, but did. “I am on patrol after lunch, but I’ve asked that my schedule be cleared until then.”

Perfect. Plenty of time. You stood, hefting the case file with you, clearly dismissing Mina, who looked put out.

“Great, I’ll show you to the conference room then,” you said. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Mina flashing you a pink finger, and you could easily guess which one. You stuck out your tongue at her as you passed Shouto so he couldn’t see, not above pettiness.

You gestured Shouto into one of the smaller rooms across the floor with especially good soundproofing, holding the door open for him. You sucked in a breath as he brushed past you, trying not to admire how tall and broad he was, the way those shoulders spanned the breadth of the doorway.

Shouto took a seat and you spread the case file out before him, trying not to look down at him as he glanced up at you. His fingers twitched on the conference table, like he was holding them in place. You carefully retreated to a safer distance, hoping you hadn’t annoyed him.

“Okay so the basic brief is as Mina said. There have been multiple reports of a suspected pro harassing omegas late at night in Bunkyo. Initially they were identified as a masked male wearing scent patches, roughly five foot ten, always wearing some dark jacket. But the suspected hero element came into play late last week when they attempted to strap quirk suppressors on their target. The omega in question had a vapor quirk so she was able to dissolve and escape before he did.”

Shouto’s eyes tracked you as you spoke, solemn and attentive.

“So far the suspect has not shown any signs of a quirk himself, and without any scent ID it’s hard to know what secondary gender to look for. Our best option is to work the possible-pro-hero angle and rule out who we can, since that’s all the identifiable detail we have on this guy at this time.”

Shouto nodded, propping an elbow on the table. You tried to ignore how even that small gesture made him look like a center spread in Heroes Illustrated.

“I’d like to read the individual reports and hear your plan once I have,” Shouto said.

You perked up, pleased with the terms he was speaking in. A good case analyst always had at least a sketch of a plan—what order to speak to specific people in, which angles had highest priority of investigation, and how the labor could be divided and work double-checked.

Most heroes were people of action and hated having to be corralled into approaching cases like some sort of assignment, instead of busting in and blowing things apart. But it was the best way to make sure all avenues were investigated thoroughly and that work was peer-reviewed in case someone missed something.

Shouto’s phraseology told you he was familiar with approaching cases like this, meaning he probably listened to the Todoroki agency analysts. You’d never worked closely enough with him before to know, only trading high-level information back and forth on a couple of joint cases, presenting findings in a meeting room stuffed full of Pink Riot and Todoroki agency heroes.

You found yourself smiling faintly.

“I’ll get you some coffee while you read. Everything is in chronological order in the file and I’ve tabulated some notes,” you said. “How do you take yours?”

Shouto’s gaze slid over you, careful and assessing. He paused. “I’ve been told I should not share that information.”

Your eyebrows went up. “Your… coffee order?”

Shouto nodded seriously. “Bakugou says it’s disgusting and embarrassing.”

Bakugou—pro hero Dynamight, that was—was Kirishima’s best friend, a loud alpha of an explosive manner and incendiary opinions who often showed up unprompted at the agency to stomp around and mean mug, all the while hiding that he was attempting to press leftovers on Kiri and Mina. You laughed, curious what Bakugou had browbeaten another pro over.

“Your secret will be safe with me,” you said coaxingly.

Shouto blinked, mouth quirking slightly again. He looked like he genuinely liked the idea of that, and your stomach fluttered in response.

Of course then he opened his mouth and provided a rundown of the inhumanly numerous sugars and syrups he liked, such that it constituted more of a soft drink than a coffee order. You tried to keep your eyebrows from creeping up into your hairline, smothering a laugh.

That was so unexpectedly cute. Especially for an alpha.

“One coma-inducing order of sugar with a splash of coffee, coming right up,” you saluted him.

He did something with his face that was a cross between a tiny smile and a pout, and you threw yourself out the door before you dissolved into a puddle of goop.

You went down to the cafe that operated out of the ground floor of the Pink Riot building, a favorite lunch spot of most of the heroes for how enormous their sandwiches were. The order took a fair few minutes, as it took the barista a good while to pump in the zillions of requested syrups, his eyebrows raised nearly to the moon as you recited them.

When you returned to the conference room, Shouto was already well into the case file. He glanced up as you entered, those heterochromatic eyes pinning you with an unexpected intensity. You started, wondering if you’d done something wrong.

But then his mouth slid into another tiny smile, and he looked so genuinely pleased to see you—or the coffee cup—you found yourself helplessly smiling back.

After depositing his cup next to him, you fetched your laptop and emailed Shouto’s agency the case files while he read. You wrote up the preliminary notes you’d been able to pull together on the case—a list of three agency heroes whose exact whereabouts had been accounted for during one or more of the incidents, who were therefore not on your list of possibilities.

Shouto was staring at you when you shook yourself out of work mode an hour later, quiet and intent. You startled, jumping in your seat.

“Oh my god—I’m sorry—did you say something? I didn’t mean to ignore you,” you said.

Shouto shook his head, another smile quirking that perfect mouth. That expression was growing familiar. “I have just finished,” he said.

A sense of relief washed over you. “Okay great. Did anything stick out to you that you think I’ve missed so far?”

“No,” he murmured. “Your work is very thorough. I would like to hear your plan.”

His tone was low, almost appreciative, and you tried not to let it go to your head.

“Okay, then we’ll begin with the active duty and equipment logs,” you told him. “I’m already through all of the duty logs available, but I still need the one from Thursday when the last incident happened—it’s supposed to be ready this afternoon. That will rule out a few heroes, and the equipment logs can tell us more about who had what out during the time of the attacks—I think we start with the heroes who had suppressors on them then.”

Shouto nodded, looking like he was following along. “You want to narrow the pool before you speak to anyone in case you arouse suspicion.”

You nodded, pleased he understood. “Yes.”

That blue and gray gaze nearly pinned you to your seat. “That is smart.”

A sudden wash of heat licked up your spine, pooling in your limbs. You struggled to keep your face neutral, your ears burning. “Th—thanks.”

“Who have you ruled out so far?” he asked.

You turned your screen to him, showing the notes you’d drawn up. “Kiri’s clear—no shock there—Tetsutetsu, and Tetsu’s sidekick who was with him on a cleanup during the first incident. I’m hoping Thursday’s log will clear at least one or two more.”

Shouto inclined his head in agreement. “And your interview plan?”

You smiled, and scrolled down to your notes on that, pleased at how he was letting you lead the investigation. He listened intently as you walked him through an outline, double-checking that everything worked with his schedule.

As you talked, he offered a few suggestions of his own, but he mostly seemed content to follow your outline—completely unlike even the most agreeable of the Pink Riot agency alphas. In fact it was so contradictory to everything you’d experienced thus far that you found your gaze darting to his scent patches over and over again, as if assessing whether they were really covering up an alpha scent.

But no—you had felt the pull of his Order under your skin on Friday. You, a beta, naturally resistant to Orders in the way omegas weren’t. And you’d gone so boneless against him, too, affected by his proximity in the most embarrassing way. Shouto was definitely an alpha, with that kind of pull—and probably a preternaturally strong one at that.

But he was also just—your eyes drifted to his coma-inducing coffee cup—kind of a strange one, too.

The two of you discussed the case for a few more minutes—until your stomach growled, loud enough to interrupt your planning, and the corner of Shouto’s lips lifted again.

“Would you like to finish up over lunch?” he asked, saving you the embarrassment of excusing yourself.

You grinned. “I think my stomach already answered for me,” you agreed.

Shouto helped you reorganize the paper files and lingered over you as you locked them into your desk cabinet, waiting for you patiently. Then he let you lead him downstairs to the cafe. You were conscientious of not standing too close to him in the elevator, all too aware of him in that tiny, enclosed space.

When you made it down to the ground floor, Shouto surprised you by steering you over to one of the tables, bidding you to sit.

“What do you enjoy here?” he asked, looking down at you expectantly. “I would like to get it for you.”

You shook your head. “Actually, I’m pretty sure I should be treating you for the save. How about you tell me what you want?”

Those heterochromatic eyes blinked down at you, and a tiny crease appeared between Shouto’s eyebrows. His mouth turned down. Against the subtlety of his expressions thus far, the look appeared almost distressed. “I insist,” he said, something strange in his tone.

“Shouto, really, I—-”

“I insist,” Shouto said, a little more firmly. There was the flicker of something strange under your skin again, like the tiny molecules of your body shifting in response to him.

You froze, startled, and your mouth opened for you before you realized what you were doing. “I—a pesto sandwich—”

You clamped your mouth shut, mystified.

But Shouto looked pleased. He smiled, wider than you had seen so far, a devastatingly handsome quarter-moon sliver that sent your pulse pounding in your ears. You watched him turn and walk off, something you might have said was almost smug in his step, had you known him better.

You sank into one of the seats, befuddled by what had just happened.

Shouto returned a few minutes later with water and an order number, placing the bottle in front of you like an offering. You regrouped, thanking him, then raised your eyebrows as he leaned forward, looking serious.

“I have been wanting to ask. Where does the alpha who harassed you work?” he asked, his tone dropping low. A strip of afternoon sunlight caught in his hair, dancing like flickering flames in the strands of scarlet, liming them in an orange glow.

He was beautiful in the sun, and it took you a minute to reroute your brain from his face to his question.

“Suzuki’s in support,” you said. “But Mina’s disciplining him, and I don’t have to see him often. I do expect he’ll behave after this. But why do you ask?”

Shouto frowned, leaning in closer. “Support maintains the equipment logs.”

It was the same at the Pink Riot agency too. “I—well, yes, but—”

“I should like to be there when you go to support,” Shouto said, catching your eye. His expression shifted into something solemn, his mouth a flat line.

You waved your hand dismissively. “I appreciate it, but don’t worry. He’s not gonna do anything, it’s literally just logs—”

“I must insist,” Shouto said again, his tone soft but unmistakably firm. His fingers flexed tightly where they rested on the edge of the table, the knuckle of his index turning white.

Despite yourself, his concern warmed you, that hot, tingly feeling heating your ears again.

“I really would be okay,” you said. “But if it means something—I’ll wait until tomorrow when you get here?”

Shouto nodded. “I would like that very much.”

A smile teased at your mouth. Now that was stereotypical alpha behavior, much as you appreciated his concern. Suzuki wasn’t going to jump you over a log file in a workplace—especially not after Mina had taken him to task. Shouto’s concern was unnecessary, but so very typical of an alpha. It felt familiar, like Kirishima’s brand of protectiveness over his tight knit agency, you thought. Harmless and well-intentioned.

A tray being placed on your table cut off any response you might have given, and your eyes blew wide as you registered the amount of food on it. Your mouth dropped open when a second tray was placed alongside the first one, the cafe worker smiling down at Shouto before she left, clearly recognizing him.

Shouto looked down at the food, his features arranged in minute shock.

“I do not remember ordering this…” he said, glancing at his receipt slip. You watched as his eyebrows furrowed slightly, that crease appearing between them again as his eyes flickered over the order. Then he cut himself off, those long eyelashes fluttering. “I… apologize.”

Apologize? Meaning, he had ordered this?

“You bought all this?” you asked, floored.

Shouto gave a tight nod. “It… would seem so.”

Your gaze picked over the trays again. They were piled high with at least six sandwiches, several pastries, a takeout container of soup, four different kinds of cookies, two fruit cups, and a handful of the granola bars they kept by the register. It was a literal mountain of food, and you sort of doubted even a pro hero could put that much away in one sitting.

“If you were so hungry we could have come down so much earlier,” you insisted, but Shouto’s embarrassed expression only deepened.

“It is… not for me,” he said slowly. It looked like it pained him to admit it.

You blinked, drawing back in your seat. “It’s…..me?”

Shouto nodded seriously.

A shocked laugh leapt out of you, bright and pleased. “Shouto, I was hungry but this is like, eleven meals!”

“You will have leftovers, then,” Shouto replied, sounding embarrassed. The tips of his ears were red where they peeked through his mop of multicolored hair.

You were so suddenly, utterly charmed by him, a splash of warmth pooling in your stomach, flooding through your limbs. You had absolutely no idea what had possessed him to do this, but it was undeniably sweet. Coupled with the easy way he’d let you take the lead on the investigation, and the way he’d moved to protect you on Friday night—it all painted a portrait of a very good, very kind sort of person.

You’d really lucked into a good partnership. You were grateful.

“Thank you, Shouto,” you said sincerely. A hint of a flush colored his high cheekbones, and he nodded.

You decided not to press him anymore, setting aside your speculation for when he’d gone. Instead, you unearthed your requested sandwich from the mound of food, and selecting a pastry at random. Shouto watched you as you bit into your food, a strange sort of intensity in his gaze.

Eventually, however, he took his own food, and the two of you chatted as you ate, moving on from the case to discuss his patrol, your shared friends, and a slew of other silly topics. You found him just as easy to talk to outside of case work—he had the same straightforward way of approaching life as he did his casework, his outlook consummately honest and thoughtful.

You regretted it when Shouto eventually had to excuse himself for patrol, but not before disappearing and reappearing with a takeout containers and a bag for all the things he’d ordered you, which he carefully but insistently packed away, before putting in front of you with a meaningful look.

You laughed again, taking the bag from him as you got up to make your way back upstairs as well.

“Thank you for lunch,” you told him, trying to convey how sincerely grateful you were. “I’m looking forward to our partnership.” You stuck out your hand to him, smiling up at him.

Shouto’s expression didn’t change much, but his mismatched gaze grew warmer where it rested on you. “As am I,” he said, tone soft.

Long fingers curled around yours, and for a moment you felt that same, weak-kneed desire to collapse against him as you had on Friday. It took an inordinate amount of focus to pump his hand in a handshake, and even more willpower to let him go.

You waved him off, and watched him go, feeling a strange sense of emptiness as that broad back disappeared through the door. In just a few short hours, it seemed, Todoroki Shouto had dug himself a comfortable little spot in your heart—far deeper than a case partner should have.

You ruminated on this as you made your way back upstairs, mind running over the events of the last few days. You couldn’t figure out why Shouto was having a weirder effect on you than any other alpha, even accounting for his unearthly good looks, nor why he seemed to be equally lost today—ordering a zillion things without even realizing he’d done so.

As you made your way back to your desk and cracked open the case file again, you resolved to solve this mystery as well. You were good at getting to the bottom of things—and Todoroki Shouto would be no exception.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #bnha x reader #andie's writing #character: todoroki shouto #tw: a/b/o

1K notes · View notes

queenimmadolla · 3 months

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𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

“Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around.

Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

“I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.”

“Wha’?”

“Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

“Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair.

While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him.

Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him.

The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention.

Someone.

Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side.

Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it.

Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough.

Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie.

He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

“It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

NOW, 1989

“Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

“Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand.

When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying.

You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job.

You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan.

So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

Your mother was murdered.

Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional.

The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery.

Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself.

You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace.

The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells.

He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting.

So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead.

“Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

It was a little odd, but you did.

When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

“I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

“I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him.

You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

“Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

“Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

“YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring.

“He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

“Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

“Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.”

Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss.

“I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked.

“I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

“Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.”

You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

“It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that.

“That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.”

Didn’t feel like it.

Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

“No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

“Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

“You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands.

“And I can. Please, let me do this.”

You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

“It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it.

You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

“So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject.

“It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university.

Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

“See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?”

You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat.

“Okay, spill.”

Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

“Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!”

This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile.

“Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush.

“Steve Harrington.”

“STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

“Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

“He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

“Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

“Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.”

You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

“And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again.

“Does he flirt with you?”

“No.”

“See him flirt with any girls?”

“Nope.”

“Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

“Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

“He’s on the spectrum?”

Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

It got quiet for a few moments.

”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most.

She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

“Reefer Rick?”

“Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

Munson.

You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

“I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

“How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

“Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

“Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

“No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

“How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

“H-He’s your favorite…?”

“Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

“You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you.

“Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

“He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea.

“Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

Maybe a drink would calm you down.

You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

“The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now.

“What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

“Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

Oh, shit.

Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

”Funny seeing you here.”

You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

“Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off.

“It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

“I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

“Oh.”

He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

OH, THANK FUCK.

“Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

“So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

“Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

“Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

“Hey, Carol.”

Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

“You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl.

“Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

“Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

“You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

“I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

“Oopsie.”

But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

“Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy.

Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning.

You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

“You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

“You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

“Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

“You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

“I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

“Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

“Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it.

Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

“You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

“Wall.”

“Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

“Great Wall of China.”

Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

“Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense.

Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

“Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing.

“Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

“Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

“Does that feel good?”

You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.”

Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

“I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.

The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within.

She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

“Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you.

His right arm was out, palm up.

He was waiting for you.

You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

“Sissy. . .”

“Sissy…”

“SISSY!”

You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect.

What the hell?

“You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways.

You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

“It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

“Oh my god…”

“So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

“Ooh, your knees…”

You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

“I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

“Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

“You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist.

“Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once.

“Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

“It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

“Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

“Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

“It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

“Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

“That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

“Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

“I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

“─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

“And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing.

“That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning.

You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

“Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

“I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

“Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

“THAT WE DO!”

You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

“What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

“Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

“Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

“Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

“Mm. White wine?”

It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

“Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

“He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

You shot him a glare.

“Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers.

You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

Then your eyes snapped open.

Oh, god. You were a loser.

After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

“Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

“Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

“Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation.

“She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

“I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

“Yes, we got a free soda!”

Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

“Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

“Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

“Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

“You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

“All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.”

“Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

“I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

“I bet you can.”

After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house.

Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder.

And it was coming from outside your front door.

You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home.

You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

“Uuuhhhnng…”

This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

“Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

“OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life.

“Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!”

You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs.

You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

“Stop it!”

“Leave me alone!”

“Go away, I’m just a girl!”

The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located.

On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature.

You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it.

Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

“It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.”

He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation,

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

“Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

“I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

“Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

“Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

“C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

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