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awakeshedreams · 3 years

Text

sugar and spice ( 1 )

pairing : resident bad boy!jjk x model student!reader

setting : highschool!au x stepbrother!au

summary :

a messy highschool!au x stepbrother!au where model student reader who has quite a few dirty little secrets sees her world take an unexpected turn when her mother comes home one day with an engagement announcement, to the father of none other than the school's resident bad boy.... Jeon Jungkook.

genre : smut, for laughs, kinda pornish, slow burn with collosaly overwhelming sexual tension

rating: soft m ( for now ) due to adult content

warnings : unconventional relationship of sexual nature, tropes and clichès, teenagers partaking in porn-esque activities, made up things with made up people happening in a made up world, don't like don't read XD

wordcount : 2.3K

a/n : i've been fighting in a long standing war and I have lost. the man known as jeon jungkook had his foot on my neck for years and today, I have finally submitted to my fate and surrendered to his reign.

yes. after a hundred years, i'm writing again. specifically, writing for bts. particularly, writing for jungkook. its been a long time coming.

life just took over and I transitioned into an adult and kind of grew out of the state of mind I was in before. but. sigh. jeon jungkook has been tormenting me the whole time. it was only a matter of time before i relapsed honestly.

so here I am again. in mind, body and spirit, a different person from who I was before but still the same in the sense that with the way bts have my whole heart, jk will always be the demon in the corner of my room that I invite to bed for a cuddle even though it's (probably really) not good for me.

do not misconstrue. I love him more than I can say. but. sigh. he has me in a chokehold, loves. please try to understand where I'm coming from.

anyways, enough with this ranting. you all came here for the nitty gritty so let me not hold you hostage with my dilemma rambling any longer. here's to the first bts fic i've posted in literal years. introducing- sugar and spice.

1 2

Unless they told someone, no one would have been able to guess it.

At school they were complete strangers.

She was the nice head girl with a clean record, all smiles and straight A’s. He was the mysterious bad boy with a track record, all tatted up with bruised knuckles.

She wore plaid skirts with neat pleads in them and pastel sweaters with bows at the collar. He wore jeans with rips in them and leather jackets with studs.

They couldn't have been any more different.

As far as anyone was concerned, they existed on two extreme ends of a vast spectrum.

What they didn't know was that they shared a dirty little secret.

You were a girl with many dirty secrets.

For instance, you used to sell nudes online. It was a side hustle you did.

Not because you needed money.

Your mom was a renowned doctor so there was more than enough of that in your life.

Not because you needed validation from people online either.

Even without the constant compliments and the praises you knew you were visually blessed with a pretty face and a nice body too.

All things considered, you simply thought you had a nice pair of tits and you took pictures of them sometimes.

Posting the shots you snapped online came much later when you heard about this website where people were getting paid crazy money for posting racy things.

‘It’s just so degrading…’ It was one of your friends, June, who sneered, pretty nose scrunched up. She fixed her long ponytail and rolled her brown eyes while looking in the mirror at her locker. ‘Who would do such a thing, am I right?’

She said this, but June was the girl who has slept with more boys than she could count on her two hands. And those were the ones she told you about.

Like every other time, you said nothing. Even when it carried on to lunch with the rest.

‘Pretty desperate if you ask me.’ Mei the stellar track runner shrugged casually as she stretched her limbs like routine.

‘Where are their parents?’ Nina the library nerd shook her head in disapproval as she fixed her glasses so it sat right on the bridge of her nose.

‘Um… I don’t think it’s … appropriate… to talk about ….’ Kiko the one who always carried a cross and bible around mumbled into her sleeve.

All your friends spoke of it in derision and repulsion of course. This was a school for proper children so they were proper girls. At least they were supposed to be.

Regardless the conversation sparked a curiosity in you.

So you made an account and uploaded your first picture. Nothing bizarre. Just your tits in a pretty lace bra.

You made sure to keep your face out of the frame because that was the smart thing to do and you were nothing if not the smartest student in school.

In all honesty, you weren’t expecting anything out of it. In fact, in between work with student council and tutoring your juniors with finals right around the corner, you even forgot about it for an entire month.

It was by a complete whim that you decided to open the app while you’d been unwinding at your desk following a tedious day at school.

To say you were amused by the response you found waiting for you would have be a grave understatement.

You were staring at the four figure digit that now sat in your bank account.

Reading through the comment section was even more interesting.

There were all sorts of people there who had all sorts of things to say. Ranging from honestly sweet to downright dirty.

You had never been brought to tears laughing in her life before until then.

It was just so funny to see people misbehave and lose their minds over a pair of tits.

From then on it just sort of became a thing.

But that wasn't the worse of your secrets.

You were making a name for yourself on the crude web months later.

The next step was naturally to move from making taking pictures to making videos. Since you was already in too deep you didn’t see why not.

So you upgraded and opened another account. An amateur one where your touched yourself for an audience.

You were no prude.

You might have never been touched by a boy before but you had touched yourself plenty times. Stress and frustration came hand in hand with being head girl. Since you couldn’t quite vent it out at the annoying troublemakers at school, this was your second best option.

Third was watching porn, but that was mostly when you were extremely bored.

But that wasn’t where that little endeavor ended.

Later on it became a lot more risqué.

It all started when your mom hit you with a marriage announcement.

She met a guy on her business trip who she really liked and she was convinced he was the one.

Your mom had a tragic history of being a bad judge of character.

You’ve had this conversation at least five times since you became old enough to understand that boys and girls who were just friends didn’t kiss and sleep with each other.

Most times, it felt like she was doing it because she thought you needed a dad around.

You might have once, when you were younger and your mom was too busy with work to be there. But she worked from home these days and you were soo busy with school to worry about things like that.

This time it was like she was doing it for her. You were glad.

Your mom looked genuinely happy when she spoke about this guy.

Who were you to get in the way?

She spent almost the whole weekend in the kitchen. It was the longest you’ve seen her in there in your entire life.

She was excited for the dinner on Sunday.

Mr Jeon was the name of the chosen man.

He was coming over with his kid. A son, his only family. His wife passed away years ago.

You wore the dress your mom picked out for you, something cream in color and off the shoulders that brushed your knees. She looked pretty in her champagne dress. It was different from the office slacks and loose blouses you were used to seeing her in.

You stood by her at the door while the guests came through.

Lifting your head from a polite bow, you found herself staring straight into an achingly familiar pair of glinting dark eyes and went completely still.

‘Sweetie,' Your mother said sounding delighted, a soft hand on your stiff shoulder. 'This is Mr Jeon and his son Jungkook.’

Ah. Fuck.

‘Jeon dear, this is my daughter. Isn’t she lovely?’

Dinner was a mild affair, with small talk and the occasional clinking of cutlery on fine china.

From the outside looking in, you probably looked the picture perfect family already.

Only if no-one looked close enough.

Arms crossed, tongue in cheek. Your discomfort could be detected from miles away.

The two adults were oblivious.

The dark eyed boy with the slightest wave to his nape touching, brow grazing, ear covering onyx hair sat across you though; he took note of this with a passing glance and wordlessly returned to his food.

Jeon Jungkook had a countenance that betrayed his reputation.

Even though you’ve never talked, you knew plenty about him and you were sure he knew a lot about you too.

You went to the same school.

Dressed as he was in a crisp white dress shirt buttoned at the wrist and dark tailored pants with a fine belt on, it might have been hard to tell what kind of person he really was.

You lifted her gaze from your plate to look study him wordlessly, idly twisting the noodles with your fork.

People either called him the black sheep or the dark cloud but for you, Jeon Jungkook was the school’s resident lone wolf.

He smoked in the secluded areas on campus, sometimes playing his guitar. Beat up people who got on his nerves, sometimes using his guitar. Slept in class the rare times he was there, many times on his guitar.

Being his senior, you had never seen any of any of that for yourself. But you received plenty reports weekly to come to a sound conclusion.

There was no way people hated him enough to join hands in solidarity and make this all up.

It was quite the contrary actually. He had an alarming number of fans.

On the surface level you couldn’t see why. Most times you saw him, he looked bored out his mind and honestly, intimidating.

Maybe it was the tattoos. Or the ripped skinny jeans. Or the leather jackets with studs.

Maybe it was the domineering height and fit frame and structured face.

Maybe it was the intense dark eyes or the silky ruffled hair.

Even then, you failed to see the irresistible appeal in him. All those things that made him up only added to his unapproachable aura.

Bottom line was, he was bad news.

You didn’t want to be a spoil sport.

But how much of a thug your mom’s boyfriend’s son was shouldn’t be something that would make her like him less.

They were both their own people. Right ?

It was just that you just didn’t want her to be shocked and devastated if something happened later. When it happened.

Yet it seemed the serious conversation would have to wait.

After dinner your mom suggested you head to the living room to chat over wine and cheese.

You stayed back to do take out the dishes.

Earlier, your mom had stood to do it instead at first.

‘Don’t bother with that, dear.’ She reached for the plates in your hands. ‘Let me do it.’

‘It’s okay, mom.’ You smiled a little. ‘This is your night. I’ll meet you in the living room.’

'Sweetie...' Your mom looked close to tears. ‘But there’s so much of it…’

‘Jungkook,’ his father's voice had cut through the moment. He was a serious man in a crisp suit with a stoic countenance. His voice was just naturally authoritarian without him trying ‘Give her a hand.’

Jungkook stood, almost robotically.

‘It’s fine.’ You said. Politely. Nicely. Tightly. ‘I can handle this much.’

You left without another word.

That had been moments ago and now you were done with cleaning.

You stood at living room entrance for a while, taking in the scene.

The two adults were exchanging moon eyes and whispering in each other’s ears at the love seat.

Jungkook was sitting on a solo seat, but he was on his phone, completely unbothered by what was happening.

Your mom seemed to think it was the perfect time to pull out the photo album right then and there upon seeing you.

It was embarrassing but at least you knew you didn’t have to worry about the pictures spreading at school.

Jungkook was looking, picking up a picture occasionally to rove over, but he wasn’t the type to do that.

He also wasn’t the type to stare but you felt his glance shifting to you and lingering multiple times.

Once, you caught his eyes and he just stared at you across the coffee table wordlessly with a curious tilt to his head, idly flipping a picture of you dressed as a knight in glitter shining armor for Halloween at eight in his hands.

Honestly, it was starting to get annoying.

But you endured. For your mom’s sake.

Your alarm went off at exactly ten.

As subtly as you could, you excused yourself with an apology to the guests, saying you weren't really feeling well.

In hindsight you probably should have used a better excuse.

Your mom was notorious when it came to worrying, especially when it comes to your health.

Also, you probably should’ve locked the door before undressing just for good measure since people were over.

But in the moment, you were too busy setting your camera up where you were kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed to be concerned about that.

That day you were testing out a new toy.

Distractedly, you took note of a couple of people asking you if that was your boyfriend’s shirt you had lifted over your tits.

You ignored them.

Couldn’t a girl own an oversized tee without getting any flack?

Trivial comments like that aside, a good majority of the audience are fawning over how wet you were and how perfect you bouncing tits look being played with.

Your head fell back and your eyes fluttered shut.

You were sitting there, knees raised to your chest and legs splayed, your gushing pussy in full display where the toy was stuffed deep into her tightness, vibrating pleasantly.

‘I’m close…’ you mumbled throatily, squeezing your tits and pinching your stiff nipples in between your moving fingers. You moved your hips move faster, feeling the toy buzz against fluttering walls. You took a hand off one of your tits to rub at your engorged clit. ‘Fuckfuckfuck…’

Deep in your high, you didn’t hear the door open and close with a foreboding click.

You only heard your name being called by a deep, smooth voice through the heady haze.

Instantly you stilled.

When you snapped your head to look over her shoulder Jungkook was there, hands in his pockets, leaning against your doorframe with his sleeves drawn up to his elbows, muscle roped, inked skin on full display.

When he tilted his head to the side a little, appraisively, you dared to say as a quaking chill ran down your spine and your entire body felt like it was about to burst into flames, a bit of his hair fell over his face.

His eyes were like two black in the dark as he took you in, dragging his gaze up and down your exposed body languidly.

In the back of your mind, you wished the ground would part and swallow you whole.

‘Your mom,' he starts, capturing your attention wholly, dark gaze finally flickering to your face, his voice suddenly lower, hoarser. ‘She sent me over to check on you.’

It took you a moment to realize where you were, who you were, who he was.

It was like a bucket of cold water had been dropped over your head.

Jeon Jungkook, the school's resident trouble maker, soon to be your step brother, just walked in on you fingering yourself in in front of a recording camera.

Well. Yeah.

You gulped.

You were royally fucked.

depending on the response I get I might ( most probably will ) delete this. not because I'm ashamed of my work. because I'm embarrassed of myself. I really swore to never write again and here I am. sigh. yes, I have seen my previous works and noticed just how terrible they were and this is a big reason why. so sorry for putting you through that. a million apologies.

also, that's right. I have adopted a new style which might not be to everyone's liking. another reason why.

anyways, if you liked this filth ( i know it seems mild but I can tell you it's very likely gonna get worse ) please idk uh... fuck this isn't ao3. hm.

like and drop by in the ask box if you liked it and want to see more. it makes me happy. its like serotonin fuel to me.

have a nice day. see you next time ( maybe ). stay fresh. yeah. 💜💜.

#bangtan #bts #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts smut #bts au #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts high school au #jungkook high school au

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julietas-basil · 2 years

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Hi! Thanks for the follow! Just wondering if there could be a piece about Julieta and Augustín? I can imagine she'd be into risky sex, where someone can walk in on them and moment

Hewoo dear friendOwO

I think Julieta would like to occupy Agustίn for awhile 👀she seems like the type to pull her husband in to stop the burning heat...

Hmmh...let's see 🤔

WARNING⚠️

NSFW,explicit content,language,intimate moments,fluff,romance,mentions of certain body parts,if underaged or uncomfortable with refernced content, I would kindly suggest you scrolling over,for any sane request don't hesitate to drop what you'd like! speaking through DM is a very good solution too I'm happily open to meet new friends and discuss and go encanto crazy!

thank you for your time !

Today was Antonio's birthday and of course the whole neighbourhood would be invited to the party,which meant Julieta would have the wholde day ahead of her to pick the menu,get groceries. Thankfully, Mirabel was there to assist with the list,while Agustίn had insisted he gave away the Arepas and Empanadas to the wounded villagers. The menu would have to be a mix of Toñito's favorite dishes along with the tranditional favorites,nothing foreign to the Healer,all within her cooking ability...

She would get tired again,her legs aching in pain switching position every now and then to avoid any excess issue that would work against this day which had to be perfect. Julieta undeniably loved her youngest primo and Loved to see his expression light up when he sees his gift-inspired cake which happened to be his most favorite thing!The old cook smiled genuinely at the thought as she prepared the sugary creme,along with the sugar paste. Small pieces of papers,filled in delicate handwriting,were full of recipies that Julieta was determined to bring to life. The minutes turned into hours and the healer had attempted to finish most of the dishes. Luisa appeared at the end like "a machine god" placing the dishes over the tables that had been scattered across the room...

She let a sigh escape her throat,once she placed her self on the chair in front of her. The nurse grabbed the white towel resting on her apron to wip off the slightest of sweat drops,that had covered up her forhead. Her eyes scanned at the cleaned kitched,nodding her head amazed at how her courage was enough to accomplish such things!

"¿Mamá?" Isabela entered the room quietly,hands folded in her lap. Julieta turned her head to take a better look at her oldest daughter "Mi pequeña linda..." the mother sighed upon seeing her hija,walking towards the girl to wrap her in a warm hug "You've grown mi Isabelita" the mother smiled kindly,kissing the top of Isabela's head "Would you like to join us ?" the younger adult asked blushing. Julieta almost cursed at herself for missing the time "Give me a moment mi hija" she fixed her self,removing the teal apron and followed her daughter out of the kitchen...

As the healer carelessly walked through the crowd,a familiar hand grabbed her by the arm,twisting her over his arms "Hola,Amor" Agustίn pushed the grey haired woman tightly to his waist,a rose wrapped between his teeth "Eres hermana,hoy dίa" flashing a smile to his wife "You look very attractive as well,mi Vida" Julieta giggled "This is for you..." the tall man handed the beautiful flower to his love,wrapping her lips in a longing kiss.

The older woman let herself get lost in the romantic affection,the warmth radiating from their bodies awaking something in her. It's been a long time,since they had enjoyed their touches quite thoroughly,his knuckles between her curly locks,his burning kisses running paths down her neck-collarbone. His pianist's hands grazing over her most sensitive parts,massaging her clitoris every so slowly and elegantly...This!this was enough to light up a fire within her body.

Julieta parted from the kiss to take the accident-prone man into her arms,which extented enought to rest on his neck "Agustίn..."she allowed her breath to fall on his ear,making the man shiver with want "I want you to fuck me,Amor" the middle aged woman confessed in his ear "WHaT?" Agustίn blushed almost but falsely,practically shouted,earning the confused glares of some of the villagers. Julieta parted and turned to leave an awkward smile as the people around them returned to their talking or dancing like nothing happened..

" Agustίn,Let's go someplace else.." The cook took the pianist's hand into her own "The whole house is packed with people" the younger man complained giggling "come with me" ulieta would be one of the most patient person out of everyone in this family,but during these times impatience and stubborness win over her calm exterior...The faint brunette guided her husband through teams of people driving him into the backyard of the house. The woman sighed at noticing the empty space "Mi Cariñosa,someone might come here , this is an open space and there are..people on the side" Julieta shushed the tall man with a lustful kiss "We could risk it! Come on we'll be quick,corazon" the cook bit her lower lip,fingers rushing over the buttons of his pants.

Agustίn raised his hands in protest,whining when his wife abruptly dragged him against the wall "Eek! Julieta..." the 50 year old woman was on her knees,fighting again over the buttons of his underwear, a few long strands falling on her face " Amor,are you okay?" the short woman asked concerned,the man replied by noding his head,his palm coming to to stroke his esposa's hair. Soft fingertips,fell upon the warm shaft,exposing the pulsating member in the air " You look so hot Agustίn..." the small woman let her mouth run the sentence,skillful hands gripping onto the burning flesh "Julieta..." his hips squirmed slightly to meet her touch.

It was painfully slow and it had been so long since he had felt her pleasure him like that,he would only spend the nights in their bathroom helping himself,while thinking about her; Her small rosy shaped-heart lips,her vanilla taste,the lovely eyes that hid so much love inside and her body,that even after three pregnacies,despite the excess server remained angelic and beautiful...

She knew how he liked it,regardless of the lack of intimacy,stroking his length in a steady rythm,turning and twisting the soft flesh repeatedly,her other palm fondling his thin thigh reassuringly "You like it Querido?" the kneeled woman asked picking up her speed,the tall man responded by cupping his wife's hand "Te Quiero Amor..." the healer said,helping herself up. Immediately she wrapped her husband into a lustful kiss,turning them over so her back was stuck on the wall.

Their lips connected in a passionate kiss,their tongues lapping over the other's lips sleepily ,tasting sweet flavour of wine. In the middle of the kiss,large hands tenderly gropping Julieta's lower back "Agustίn..." the adult woman sighed into the kiss,as she felt both of his palms squeeze her mounts even more.

"CAMILO BRING IT BACK!" a voice of a young girl came from the distance,camilo following short with a toy in his hand.

Julieta,embraced her lover tightly,to cover his bulge,before anyone would see anything..."Hola tia...and tio!" he stayed there to wave at his relatives,only to start running again,Mirabel chasing him " Hola mamá,hi papá!" their youngest flashed a smile "CAMILO..YOU'RE GONNA DIE!" the elders grinned awkwardly at the grumby girl,sighing when the kids left...

"Don't you dare go anywhere..."Agustίn standed still as Julieta grasped his arms. He was caught red handed,as his penis poked at her skirt "Julieta we have to..." the tall man stared at his erection,grimancing over the sight "Take me Corazon,make me yours again..." the grey haired woman took his face into her hands staring deeply into his chocolate eyes. The man in front of her,leaned a little to lift her skirt over waist taking hold of her thighs,which she helped enfold around his waist. The accident-prone man was sprightly shifting his leg underneath her backside,his digits traveled below her underwear to cup her heated entrance,massaging the wet opening to lube his fingers,before thrusting them in "¡Ay,!" Julieta whimpered under her breath,her eyebrows frowned under the influence of pleasure... After a few minutes of pleasuring his wife,he guided his burning flesh over her vagina,pushing forward with his weight. The cook moaned loudly at the sensation,gripping her husband's shoulderblades,nails digging in. The pace increased rapidly,the couple's panting matching through the process,their chests heaving,trying to hold on to each other for dear life. The short woman captured's lips into her "Amor,I'm close-" the tall man located his arms under her thighs,giving more freedom to his thrusts '"Yo sé,mi lindo me too" the younger man smiled between sighs,a tingling fire building in his abdomen...

"¡Ay,aquí Amor!" the woman exclaimed once she felt him hit her spot "Julieta I will-" her husband attempted going faster again "Do it, Agustίn!" the healer commended already feeling waves of ecstasy hitting her by the seconds "but-" the bee-man fussed at the incident failing,as his wife shushed him up

"Cum in me Gus, por favor mi Querido!Te Quero mucho!"

His thrust were now harder more desperate,the way she called him,claiming how much she wants him to ravish her,hold her,pleasure her...love her with all he had

"Julieta!"

All of a sudden their eyes locked there,rocking through their orgasm together,moaning their names lost in their blissful moment, Julieta shivered once she felt him fill her with his orgasm,groaning slightly at the powerful sensation "That's right,let it all out mi hermoso" a few trembles were adequate for the tall man to finish thrusting into his lover,whimpering a few curses as he removed himself from between her legs. As the gentleman he is,Agustίn settled his wife gently on the ground,almost falling on his feet "Gus!" Julieta used her arms as an obstacle to prevent her esposito from tripping "Gracias my love!" the healer placed a tender kiss on his fluching cheeks aiding him over the kitchen "Come on,i'll get you something bee-boy" her hand massaged his hair...Joining the others at the party like they never missed a moment. Though one thing was on Agustin's mind,and tomorrow morning seemed to be the perfect time to make everything up for his wife,the ideal way to wake her up.

After all the pianist knew all her buttons...

I hope you enjoyned the answer,it definately was something new to me (not as an idea tho 👀) and I loved writing it out as a julistin simp lol...thank you again for trusting me with your request is an honor and it means a lot to me! I wish you a good day <3

#julieta madrigal #encanto #so oof #encanto fic #julieta #agustin madrigal #omg #hot #took 2 good hours #the madrigals #request #AGUSTIN IS CUTE #AND HOT #*coughs*#julieta really loves him #these lovebirds i swear #agustin is a malewife #he easily gets frustrated #she has him wrapped

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bunnykawa · 4 years

Text

hungry (osamu miya x f. reader)

summary: You have a big crush on the handsome owner of an onigiri shop. He thinks it’s annoying. Or does he?

a/n: eh idk what this is. timeskip love haha. but this might be a triggering so please keep that in mind and read the warnings

warnings: 18+, yandere themes, noncon/dubcon/rape, raw sex, kinda public sex?, some degradation, little bit of spanking and hairpulling, abusive language, violence, stalking, mentions of past sexual abuse, you vomit but it's not sexualized it's trauma-induced, timeskip!osamu :)

The energy of the restaurant is oddly calm tonight. Nights are almost never tranquil at Onigiri Miya with the constant parade of people coming in, so you hum in satisfaction when you scan the restaurant and there's barely anyone here. You stare down at your half-eaten onigiri and the loyalty stamp card that you filled up from how often you come here. After nine visits, you get a free onigiri on your tenth one as long as you show them your stamp card.

This is your hundredth visit—you remember because the first time you entered Onigiri Miya was ten stamp cards ago. The staff already know your name, if not by your face and your timid behavior that makes you stutter when ordering the same thing every time they see you. As peculiar as they think you are (for coming to Onigiri Miya at the same time on Fridays and Saturdays for the past six months and sitting alone quietly until they close), they warmly welcome you.

It's only you in the dining area tonight. The few employees that Onigri Miya has must have left earlier than usual. You suddenly tense up in your seat and grip onto your cup of freshly-poured hot tea tightly between tremulous fingers. The familiar male figure, standing at over six feet tall with beautiful broad shoulders, passes by the front counter, disappearing as he makes his way to the back.

After you let out a harsh breath, you adjust your phone from behind your purse on the table. Your phone is propped up behind it, the camera lens slightly peeking over the faux leather. Butterflies form in your stomach when you see that you were still recording and you caught him on camera.

Yes, you go to Onigiri Miya because the food is amazing. Somehow, they make a dish as simple as a rice ball so delectable and appetizing and you adore them because of it. But hyperfixation is a fucking bitch, your thought process is a little flawed, and the real reason why you frequent the establishment is because Osamu Miya is absolutely gorgeous. Every time you see him, you're left wondering what it would be like to run your fingers through his dark hair or how his lips feel pressed against yours. Your thoughts run wild. How does he like his eggs in the morning? What's his family like? Does he sleep on the right side of the bed? Left side? In the middle? Does he have space for you on his bed?

How does it feel to be loved by Osamu Miya?

Every time you visit the restaurant, visibly nervous with anxiety beating in your chest and your throat closing as you try to speak, you feel that you're one step close to finding out. And maybe you did feel it once. Just once. You're unsure if that one special moment you shared with Osamu was genuine from his heart with good intentions, but you would do anything for that feeling to last forever. And if that made your whole being feel as if you were floating, then why wouldn't it be the same for him?

So, that's why you're here. To relive that special moment in the way that you fantasized about—something that can become a fond memory instead of a dream deep inside your head that leaves you yearning for physicality. Desire is the only sensation that you've felt for the past six months and it's torture to watch the man that you've fallen in love with barely acknowledge you as a person even if he's seen your face in his restaurant consistently every week since you first met. Since he saved you.

Six months later. Six months to move on. Six months to get help and yet you're still digging your hands into your panties and biting onto your sheets to gag yourself because of one man after every visit to his restaurant.

"Hey."

Oh, that voice makes your thighs tremble every time you hear it. As stoic and impassive as it is, it's the same voice that gave you solace when you were beaten down in the dark to bleed on concrete. You're gritting your teeth—nearly moaning at the sweet sound—as that voice almost breaks you out of your thoughts. Almost.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Osamu asks in a deadpan tone from his place behind the counter. You jolt suddenly. For someone who's so obsessive with small details, you sure don't pay much attention to your surroundings. You quickly shake your head when you realize that he's talking to you.

"Y-yes. I'm...I'm fine, O...samu," you squeak in embarrassment. You don't realize it, but you're clutching onto your stamp card with white knuckles. His gray hooded eyes seem to be staring right through you, as if he knows why you're here tonight, what you're looking for. But whatever he does notice, he doesn't mention. His eyes dart down to your purse before he maintains eye contact with you.

He places his hand on the counter to lean on it. The small action makes your mouth dry. He's so fucking beautiful. "It's almost ten-o'clock. I'm gonna close up. You should leave soon."

But you don't want to leave yet. Tonight was supposed to be the night that you finally made your dreams come true. It's only him and you in the restaurant tonight, so it must mean something.

"Where...where's the rest of the c-crew?" you ask shakily. Fuck, get yourself together. You just need an excuse not to leave. And he might know your name, but he doesn't know you. Not yet.

He raises a thick eyebrow at your question before answering, "Left early tonight. Just me taking care of the shop." You should have noticed. This is why you leave your phone recording while you're there—you don't want to miss anything in case you get distracted.

But does he want you to leave? Your heart aches at the thought of him not wanting your presence when you've been craving his for so long. "I see," you mutter awkwardly.

What do I do now?

"You've got a lot of nerve, you know that?" he says after a few seconds of awkward silence. You haven't moved from your seat and neither has Osamu moved from his spot to "close up" as he said he would. You wonder if the door is already locked.

"What do you mean?" Your heart is thumping more now than it has in the past three hours you've been here. Osamu lives in your brain rent-free yet you can barely breathe around him. Now he's speaking to you. Actually speaking to you.

"You know exactly what I mean," he calmly accuses you. The unexpected shift in his tone makes your blood run cold. "Wonder if your phone has run out of storage yet. Funny you go out of your way to come here twice a week just to record me."

"What?!" you cry out, suddenly shooting up from your seat. Your chair skids a few inches across the floor behind you before it tilts and hits the ground with a crash. The quick movement causes the table in front of you to shake and make your phone to fall back as well, the screen smashing against the wood and the camera lens facing up towards the ceiling. You feel like you're about to have a heart attack. Your vision goes blurry from tears suddenly threatening to overflow because were you that obvious?

"I noticed. A long time ago. Remember you from that night back in the alley. Very unique face you got there," Osamu hums. He steps around the counter to make his way towards you. You cower into the wall beside your table, your eyes darting from your phone and Osamu's threatening figure.

Back in the alley. The image of the back alley behind Onigiri Miya flashes in your mind. Dark, wet, and sadly gray. That's where you first met him.

"Didn't expect to see you back here. Thought you might've developed PTSD or something with how you were crying. Now you're stalking me."

"No," you loudly plead, shaking your head side to side, "I don't know what you're talking about!" You're lying straight through your teeth. That's funny—you've been coming to his restaurant for a chance to see him again, but he's coming closer and closer and you're terrified instead of happy. Your knees buckle as you press your back against the wall. You squeeze your eyes shut as the memories come flooding back into your system in vivid detail.

He continues on, "Don't even lie to me. Stalking me like a crazy bitch. I wasn't sure what I should do about you. I felt bad for you and let you continue doing this, even thought about calling the police for a little bit, but…"

Osamu almost never talks to you, maybe a few times where he's handling the register and the orders and he has to talk to you, but he's always in the open kitchen where you can freely admire him when you want to, always an arm's length away. When you would think about what your first conversation together would be like, you always imagined his words to be kind. Sweet. Maybe he'd say he admired you—

"...you're a little fucked up in the head, huh?"

His tone is hostile. There's no love laced in any of the syllables falling from his tongue. He's annoyed. He hates the fact that you want him—it's that obvious but you don't want to believe it, especially when you think you worked so hard. It's not fair.

Your mind is hazy as he's coming closer and closer to your trembling form. You see his lips moving and the calm expression on his face turn into hard evil, but your ears can't decipher what he's saying. His words have faded into white noise. And you've seen him multiple times, traced his face through the screen of your phone, admired him from afar at the same spot in his restaurant for months, but his face is sharper, harsher, and almost unrecognizable. Is this really the man that saved you? Is this really Osamu Miya?

Your blood is pumping loudly in your ears. It's the only sound that you can make out other than your heavy breathing. God, if he gets any closer...

Then, the adrenaline kicks in and you're lunging at him with your arms outstretched towards his large frame. You don't know what you're going to do and sure as hell you're no match for him, but your body is screaming at you. Your senses are running wild, like the aura that Osamu is emitting is lighting you on fire and making you act on primal instinct. It's telling you to fight.

To fight him. To bash your tiny fists against his handsome face because he should have fallen in love with you the moment that you fell in love with him, but he has the audacity to leave you hanging for half a year and call you a stalker.

And it's painful. You're not sure which hurts more, but at this moment, the physical pain is excruciating. You can't breathe anymore, not when his calloused hands (from years of training on the court, which you found out from the internet, and in the kitchen) are wrapped around your throat. You can't think straight either—your head hit the ground a little too hard and the world is spinning. Osamu's face is contorted in anger and even if your world is spinning, his features are as clear as day.

Your memories start crashing down inside your brain in fragments. The pain, frustration, and sadness hit you all at once—it’s nauseating. It’s as if Osamu can sense this, too, because as soon as he notices your sick expression, he flips you over to force you on your knees with one arm around your waist, his hand in your scalp to hold your head in place towards the floor and then you’re heaving and gagging out the rice balls you consumed earlier. Your throat is on fire and you're still coughing up pieces of rice.

“You gross bitch,” he mutters.

You gross bitch.

It's bouncing around in your ear drum until it fades into cotton, a familiar set of words that cut you deep that you were able to pick up on easily among the other curses he's been throwing at you. The same words from six months ago. A trigger? Yeah, that's what the internet calls it. You almost died, or at least that's what it felt like. That's the only way you can describe it, the only way you were able to make sense of what happened, because you feel that you might as well have.

It was from someone else's mouth—a disgusting, grimy man whose face haunted your dreams for months, a man with greasy fingers that put his hands on you, who beat you until you were nearly unconscious with blood dripping down your chin, who ripped you away of your pride and worth until you were nothing. The concrete was wet and cold, scraping against your sensitive skin and breaking through layers as he rutted into you. His breath fucking stunk and for fuck's sake, you don't know if you've seen anyone uglier, but as fucked up as it is, he made you feel ugly.

You thought you saw an angel that day. The backdoor to Onigiri Miya opened up and when you finally opened your eyes and looked up, there he was—with blank gray eyes that stared down at the scene before him in slight disgust, and then he ripped the repulsive body off of your half-naked form. You were too weak.

While you were weak and scared and incoherent, Osamu saw you and didn't hesitate to protect you. At the end of every dream you've had since then, Osamu always came to help you.

And that should've been the end of it. That should've been the last time. You can't go through that again. No, no, no. You don't deserve to go through that again.

You don't deserve it.

You're more responsive and awake once Osamu bends you over the table you were sitting at, then your senses are overloading, telling you to resist, to keep fighting. You're so tired, at this point you're completely heartbroken, but you can't—you can't just give up yet. He's holding you down, restraining your wrists with one hand while his other hand is at your waistband pulling your shorts down your thighs. You're kicking at him with whatever strength you have left even if the taste in your mouth is vile, he's much stronger than you, and your head is pounding from the anxiety. You're grateful that you can even breathe.

But it feels like your body has failed you, once again, and for a second you think that you do deserve it. The adrenaline is almost gone, you can barely lift a finger, you feel like passing out, and—fuck—you're so stupid, so dependent on one person to make you feel high. With Osamu...you don't even know what to think. The image you dreamed of is long gone. It's sad that reality can crash over you so easily and ruin everything.

"Get off of me!" you scream. Over and over again. Until your voice cracks and your throat is on the brink of bleeding, coughing out your poor lungs. Until it's nothing but the essence of your torment. Your cup of tea, now warm, has spilled all over the table and is slowly seeping into your hair as your cheek rubs against the wood. And there's nothing else you can do, because Osamu is still behind you with your hands trapped by his. Your shorts and your panties are around your ankles. His jeans are unbuttoned and it's out.

You don't want to fight anymore, you're fucking terrified. So terrified that you can't bring yourself to move. As soon as you stop fighting, his breathing becomes steady and he's using less force on you. Sobs rack through your body hysterically when you feel it.

It's throbbing against your thigh—warm, leaking precum, long, and thick. The skin-to-skin contact in such an intimate area is making the hairs on the back of your neck rise. That tiny voice inside of your head is telling you to look back at it to see if his dick matches the image you made up in your head. Is it exactly how you pictured it? Is it as pretty?

He's wiping his precum against your tense skin. When you flinch at the tip of his cock rubbing against you, he bites his lip and kneads one of your ass cheeks with his free hand, spreading your holes open and ever so gently brushing his thumb over your pussy.

"You're...wet," he comments. You hear it. He dips his thumb between your folds and swipes it up and down and you hear the squelching of your cunt over your heavy breathing. That's—that's not right. No, you shouldn't be feeling this way. He pushes his thumb deeper into your cunt and slowly pulls it back out. You flinch and arch your back slightly at the sudden sensation, making you push your ass towards him. He lets out a breathy laugh at your reaction.

His thumb disappears for a second but it's instantly replaced with his dick probing at your entrance. With a roll of his hips, he breaks through your squishy flesh with some difficulty.

A loud yelp and a slurry of protests falls from your wet desperate lips. You wriggle your bottom, trying to create space between your two bodies, jerking away from him with whatever strength you have left. However, Osamu keeps going until he's completely bottomed out, filling you up until his tip is flush against your cervix. He lets go of your wrists so he could keep a firm grip on your hips instead. Whenever you moved, it burned.

Stop.

The stretch is unbearable—it's been half a year since you've had someone else inside you. The burn of having your hole forcefully split open wide again against your will has your head going delirious with so many mixed emotions. Fuck's sake, this isn't right and it's been heavily engraved in your brain for months that you have every right to fight back. Although you haven't been thinking straight for a long time, you're still lucid enough for your ears to work and soak up information like a sponge. He's moving, rutting his hips into your hot cunt cruelly. You can still fight him off, maybe you'd win if you tried again.

But this is Osamu. Your heart fucking aches for him and you want to get away, but it's Osamu drilling into your heat and it's just not fair. It's not fair because your body is still responding to his malicious touch. It's not fair because even if it hurts—and fuck, it hurts so damn much—you're involuntarily grinding your ass into him. It's not fucking fair because you can't hate him.

Why is life never fair?

"No," you sob, "No, no, no. It hurts. It hurts. Please stop." Your hot tears are mixing with the puddle of tea that's pooling underneath your cheek and your tongue still tastes foul from your little episode. You’re scared you might start gagging again.

"Stop?" he muses, "Haven't you been loitering in my restaurant because you've been craving my cock? You wanted this for months and the one time I give it to you, you're telling me to stop?" Osamu slams into your poor little cunt despite your pained cries and babbling. Your pussy is clamping around him, your body trying to accommodate his length and girth breaking into you so suddenly.

"Osamu." His name would've tasted so good if the situation was different. Little did you know that you pushed him passed his breaking point a long time ago. But Osamu knew that you were beyond yours ever since he met you. If only you weren't so fucking weird, maybe then he would've pitied you—maybe he would've genuinely felt something for you.

What a shame that you fell in love with a man who wouldn't be able to understand you.

"I'm tired of you coming into my restaurant," he grunts, snapping his hips against yours roughly, "-and treating me like I'm some kind of animal. Do I look like a fucking animal to you?"

You choke, “No. You don’t—that’s not why—please. You don’t understand.”

“Then tell me," he coaxes. But how do you tell him? Are you supposed to be honest? You're afraid that if you are honest, Osamu will treat you just as badly as he is now. It's also hard for you to collect your thoughts and find a sincere explanation that he could listen to—you're too focused on the many sensations pulsing through you. He raises a bulky arm only bring it down instantly to smack your ass with rough hands. The sudden impact forces you forward for a split second. Then he brings his hand down a few more times, until he's satisfied with the dark red hand print with tiny splotches dotted across your skin.

Is this a punishment for everything that you've done within the last six months? Punishment for admiring him through sneaky videos and pictures? Punishment for thinking about him all the time? You feel like a criminal, caught red-handed and forced to go through torture and suffer for your ungodly sins. Each time he hits you, you're twitching from the painful sting and praying for forgiveness.

"Stop it!" you beg through tears, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It hurts so much." Apologies start spilling from your sore throat impulsively.

I'm sorry, Osamu.

Please stop, Osamu.

It really hurts, Osamu.

But nothing that comes out of your mouth convinces him, and after awhile it's more like you're trying to convince yourself more. Suddenly the burning in your sensitive cunt is replaced with the inebriating desire and hunger for more friction between your two bodies and it leaves a shameful tint to bloom over you. You're salivating over his dick—you wanna see it so bad even if you're scared—and the guilt is eating at you on the inside. It feels good, actually enough to have you gripping onto the edge of the table and sucking Osamu into your cunt so that he doesn't pull back too far.

"Don't tell me that it hurts," he groans, "Your pussy is creaming all over me. You can't lie to me anymore."

He's right. You're lying more to yourself than him, though. You don't tell him to stop anymore, settling with swear words and a chorus of Osamu! Osamu! Osamu! It's amazing, intoxicating, and it also makes you feel disgusting. The way his cock fills up your tight pussy perfectly and how his balls are consistently smacking your clit and stimulating it—you're drooling from the pleasure.

"Does it feel good?" he huffs, "Is this what you wanted? To be a cockwhore for me?"

Your body betrays you and you're left moaning and crying at the same time with breathy words that Osamu can't decipher because you're a complete mess, but he swears he can hear you agree without hesitation. "Y-yes, fuck yes! Your cock is s-so amazing," you cry out, "Hurts so good, Osamu!"

It's not enough. Although you're gradually submitting to him, it's still not enough for the sadistic side of him. He wants to hear more of you, to push you until you're braindead and nothing more than a hole to stretch and tear apart just for the hell of it. He leans over you just to grab you by the disheveled hair on your scalp. Another scream leaves you as he pulls you up to be able to growl in your ear.

"Tell me everything, you whore," he breathes, softly yet maliciously. You try to answer him but the angle he has your neck at from the grip on your hair is choking you.

"Why'd you keep coming here? Obsessive little bitch. Why're you still here?" It's like he's laughing in your face even if his voice and expression say otherwise. He's mocking your pain, making you relive your trauma as if it was all a fucking joke. As if you’re incapable of feeling pain.

This isn't even supposed to feel as good as it does, yet it does. The way he calls you an obsessive little bitch has your stomach doing flips and your cheeks to flush even more. Then you're confused. You're enjoying his cock forced inside you and it's damn confusing.

Fuck, it’s enough to further damage your overstimulated psyche and turn you into someone you never thought you would be. An empty shell of the person you used to be because your body doesn’t even fucking feel like your body anymore. Nothing feels real anymore, like you're shifting through universes and living lifetimes but you're stuck in one place at the same time. Why do you always come back here?

You turn your head to the side, enough for you to see his face. His eyebrows are furrowed, probably from concentration on your slick pussy, and then he notices you staring at him. You don't utter another word, you might just choke and spew if you even open your mouth to attempt to (and holy shit, you don't want to embarrass yourself anymore), but your eyes—they answer his question in heavy silence. It’s enough for him to understand and see right through you. Loud and clear although you don't speak.

Because you saved me.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you let out another sob, but this cry is full of guilty pleasure instead with barely any tears. It has you nearly passing out and feeling sick to your stomach and just please—make it stop hurting. But it feels so damn good at the same time, to have the tip of his swelling cock kissing your cervix every time he slams into you, grinding his hips against your sweet cunt. Your body contracts violently as you release your liquids all around Osamu's cock, pushing your ass against his pelvis and knocking your empty tea cup and purse off the table. Intitially, the loud crash makes you jolt but it's nothing compared to how your orgasm crashing over you has you screaming and thrashing around pathetically.

You're cumming. You're cumming. You can't believe you're fucking cumming. You've never felt this way before and you always believed that sex was painful but you're still cumming long and hard on Osamu's cock. Your juices are being forced out of you.

And you didn't even want it.

You're embarrassed and oddly satisfied at the same time. Your cum is dribbling down your legs and there's no doubt that it's dripping down Osamu's pelvis and thighs, too. He lets go of your hair and your head drops forward onto the table with a thump. You wince at the contact, but you don't move.

After a few silent minutes (silent other than your audible panting) exhaustion finally hits you, and with a heavy breath you completely collapse against the table. You finally stop your death grip on the sides of the table to let them dangle off the edge. Your scalp is sore, it makes your head pound when you move your head even slightly.

A soft tired gasp escapes your throat in surprise; you feel little pecks going up your back and across your shoulders.

Then there’s feather-light kisses tickling your shoulder that leaves an agitated tingle in your nerves and—why? Why bother being gentle at this point? But the fluttering in your pelvis doesn't stop. He slips out of you just to turn your weak body over so you're laying on your back. You instantly move your eyes further down and—

It's pretty. Prettier than you imagined. His cock is fucking pretty. It's hypnotizing as you scan the vein running underneath the skin and the pink swollen head oozing clear liquid. It's glistening, dripping, with juices.

Holy shit, those are your juices.

It dawns on you that you both connected. Although not in the way that you had hoped, definitely not, but...you connected in the most physically intimate way possible. You felt him, his warmth, his damp skin, everything. Your eyes drift upwards. He's breathing heavily, his chest visibly moving. He has a firm grip on your thighs to keep you in place—you're not going anywhere. You don't want to go anywhere. Examining his face, you can see everything, every single detail. His lips, his lidded eyes, his cute nose, the shape of his face, and—wow—Osamu is pretty. So pretty. He's nearly angelic when you take a closer look. You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to him before.

You hope you're not imagining it, because you see something different behind his blank stare as if he's in as much of an awe as you are while you look up at him lovingly, like he didn't just hurt you. He took you against your will and yet you're staring at him like he just told you that you were his world. Are you a fucking idiot? Are you delusional?

"Do you love me?"

The question leaves him before he realizes his lips are forming the words. Osamu looks down at you, no other emotion laced in any of his handsome features except for distaste and...curiosity? With parted puffy lips and despair etched onto your cheeks, you slowly nod. The glazed look in your eyes draws him closer to your face, scrutinizing every part of your soft skin. He braces his hands on both sides of your trembling form. One part of your cheek is still wet from the tea that spilled earlier and your hair is disgustingly moist from a mixture of sweat and earl grey and you feel anxious again.

"Okay," he says, voice as monotonous and dead as usual, but also worn out and accompanied with heavy breathing. You tense when he leans even closer, but quickly relax when you feel him kiss your forehead. It's a delicate kiss that makes your heart flutter. Then he trails further and connects your lips. It's short, but wet and sweet. He hadn't kissed you on your mouth the whole night, it probably would have been too weird for him to kiss a sad stalker he didn't know, especially when you vomited on his otherwise spotless floor. The taste of him is lingering on your skin—you're almost afraid to lick your lips in case this'll be the last time you ever have his against yours.

He pulls you into his chest. Your heart might just jump out of yours. His cock is brushing against your shuddering core, hard and sticky, but he doesn't enter you. Osamu simply holds you close, one of his hands in your hair and the other flat against your back. You weakly bring your arms up to wrap around his shoulders and dig your face into the crook of his neck.

Then you cry. You let out a harsh breath and let yourself cry again, shoulders violently shaking and your chest tightening uncomfortably, for the thousandth time tonight even if you're tired and yearning for the comfort of your bed. Slowly, wet tears seep into his t-shirt. Osamu smells good—musky, sweaty, like a man. You don't understand what just happened—it brought you back to six months ago yet it feels entirely indifferent. He smells like a man, but he doesn't smell dirty like the last one who destroyed you.

He continues to hold you as you break down. Osamu thinks he understands, but you—you're more confused now more than ever.

2K notes · View notes

mizunetzu · 4 years

Note

Heyo!! Can I request a Kuroo x male reader, where yn goes to give him a love letter one day, but he sees him with his new girlfriend??? And he’s like-sad and he tears up the note and he moves on??? But then one day kuroo asks to talk to him, and he confesses to reader, but since reader already moved on he doesn’t accept??? Angsty ending if you will ��💔💔 thank you, Mr. Mizunetzu !!

Hi paola ily paola hee hee

——————

Kuroo x reader - you did once...

⚠️Warnings - Kuroo gets a gf, angst, not so much of a good ending?

Pronouns- male, he/him

You can find part two here!

——————

“(Y/n), can I talk to you real quick?”

(Y/n) looked up from adjusting his loose kneepad, and wiped a bead of sweat rolling off his face. He turned his head to his teammates still on their diving punishment, and looked back at Kuroo. They just lost to another school again, but he got his punishment done rather early. “Mm? Okay..?”

He rose to his feet, following Kuroo out the gym door. The walk to a secluded place far, far away from the main gym was silent and awkward, not to mention suspicious. If Kuroo wasn’t one of his good friends, he would’ve thought he was about to be kidnapped. Or murdered.

Eventually, they stopped where the fenced pathway met the grass. Kuroo stopped ominously, further proving (Y/n’s) ‘serial killer’ theory. He turned around, facing (Y/n), and leaned on the railing.

(Y/n) stiffly held his hands behind his back. “So...” he rocked on his heels, trying to seem as casual as possible. “...what did you...need...?”

He was met with no response. Kuroo, instead, gripped the railing tighter, his knuckles turning a pale white. His eyes were downcast and he was sweating like crazy. He looked like he’d seen a ghost.

(Y/n) stepped forward and crouched down, so he could see Kuroos face behind the mop that was his hair. He rested his palms on his knees, trying to decide what to say.

“...I...think your hair looks nice...today...”

If it’s one thing he hates, it’s awkward silence. Not to mention the suspense of waiting on someone to say someone possibly life changing. I mean, why else should he drag him out miles away from the gym during training camp?

“Uh-If we don’t hurry up, we’re gonna miss our next match-“

“I need to get something off my chest.”

(Y/n’s) throat closed up. It was simple. The secluded area, Kuroo flushed face, fiddling and chipping the rust off the railing. He didn’t know how he didn’t see it before. He’s been in this situation plenty of times, with girls he can’t even remember the face of. But oh how much he’d love to be in this situation a few months ago.

————

‘Just do it. just do it. God, just do it. Worse comes to worse, he’s straight. It’s not like he’s the type of person to de-friend someone because they like them!’

(Y/n) gripped the white envelope behind his back harshly, crinkling it on the corners. It had a red, heart shaped sticker on the seal flap, with the words ‘To Tetsu’ written in dark pink across the back.

Both Karasuno and Nekoma were bidding their new friends goodbye, all scattered across the parking lot of Karasuno. (Y/n) paced around awkwardly, looking for Kuroo’s familiar mop of black, messy hair. He was nervous, to say the least. Very nervous.

“Ne, Kenma,” (Y/n) placed a sweaty palm on Kenmas handheld game, pushing it down lightly and forcing him to look up.

“Mm.”

“Have...have you seen Tetsurou? I need to give him something.”

Kenma hummed in acknowledgment, and nudged his head to the side. Sure enough, Kuroo was there, off in the distance and talking to someone he couldn’t make out. His back was facing towards them, and his hand was on his hip. (Y/n’s) heart pounded even more.

“Th..an..k...y-you...” (Y/n) gave a lopsided, very stressed out smile, and limped his way over to Kuroo. Kenmas eyes were drawn to the extremely obvious love-letter being wrinkled by (Y/n’s) sweaty hands. He pursed his lips.

He then looked up to the petite girl chatting with Kuroo. It wasn’t visible in (Y/n’s) line of sight, but it was to Kenma. He almost felt kind of bad.

(Y/n) stopped dead behind Kuroo, his eyes fixated on the ground as he ran through his memorized confession for the millionth time that day. He tapped on his shoulder, keeping the letter flush against his back with his other hand.

Kuroo turned around, and that was when his eyes landed on the brown-haired girl wearing an obviously oversized Nekoma jacket. From context of the scene, (Y/n) supposed it was Kuroo’s. He gripped the letter tighter.

The girl walked forward and extended her hand out. Her bubbly aura practically suffocated (Y/n). “Hi! You must be ‘(Y/n)’. Tetsu was just talking about you! You two are like—buddy buddies right?”

‘Tetsu.’ That was (Y/n’s) nickname for him. Only he got to call him ‘Tetsu’...and who gave her the right to call him by his first name?

(Y/n) glanced at Kuroo. Kuroo shoved his hands into his pocket and grinned. It wasn’t his usual shit-eater smirk, rather a genuine, lovesick dopey smile. A smile (Y/n’s) never seen before, not directed at him at least. It was a sight he wanted to burn into his mind, but at the same time, he wanted to slap that smile right off his face.

“(Y/n), this is Yumi-chan. She’s our new manager.”

Kuroo stepped behind Yumimite, and draped his arms around her dainty shoulders.

“She’s also my new girlfriend~”

“Oh-hush it, you!” Yumimite turned around and berated Kuroo with small punches, earning a playful chuckled from the Kuroo. (Y/n’s) grip on the wrinkled letter loosened.

“...ahaha! Congrats..! When...when did you two get together?” If (Y/n) was good at anything, he was good at pretending to be interested in something. Maybe he should’ve joined the drama club instead of the volleyball club.

“Mm. We got together just last week. She gave me a love letter.” Kuroo patted the girl on her head, ruffling her neat brown hair and making her blush red. It looked like it felt nice. He wondered how it would feel to have Kuroo’s undivided attention, to be pat on the head like a blushing schoolgirl. To be a small, pretty girl next to Kuroo, to have the ability to call him ‘his’. All his nervousness simmered away, replaced by a strange ache of numb.

“Well, that’s awesome dude! Honestly, I don’t know how you managed to snag a girlfriend before me...” (Y/n) slouched dramatically, quickly hooking the letter in the waistband of his volleyball shorts and tugging his shirt over it. “Especially such a cutie like her! I’m (L/n), by the way...”

Kuroo chuckled, slinging an arm around Yumimite. “Don’t go flirting with my girl now. You have plenty of girls practically throwing their panties at you.”

‘Yeah...but I’m gay, Tetsurou. For you no doubt! I-I love you-!’

(Y/n) almost wanted to yell that out. And he almost did. But he chose instead to keep silent and laugh in response.

(Y/n) bowed slightly. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you. I just wanted to say hi to Tets-uh, Kuroo...”

Kuroo tilted his head at the use of his last name, but brushed it off when Yumi hooked her arm in his. The couple bid their goodbyes, as they turned around and walked off. (Y/n) followed suite, turning around robotically and marching off.

Once he was a good enough distance away, he stopped behind a trash can and fished the letter out from his sweaty back.

He watched as the big pink words ‘To Tetsu’ bled and distort with every falling teardrop rolling down his cheeks. The water expanded and smudged the ink lighter and lighter until the words were practically indecipherable. You couldn’t tell it was a love letter anymore. Especially because (Y/n) ripped and trashed it up til it was a pile of pink and white paper shreds.

He tossed the stray flakes of soggy paper into the trash bin, watching as it fluttered and twirled tauntingly down the trash can. He quietly scrubbed at his red hot face, probably soaking his shirt with his salty tears. He rested his hands on the edges of the bin.

“Okay...” (Y/n) stretched up, spitting onto the concrete. “I...wonder...if my favorite ramen place is open...”

Strangely he didn’t feel devastated, or heartbroken at all. He just felt sort of numb. He didn’t feel the need to blast heartbreak music and cry out on his bed for hours on end. In fact, he was glad. Albeit a bit raw, and maybe a bit tired, but glad.

He got closure for the confusing feelings bubbling down his throat ever since he’d met Kuroo Tetsurou. He got his answer, and even if it wasn’t the preferred one, it was something.

The recovery process was easier than most people would think. It only took a couple long days to get him back to his prime condition. It was a given, since (Y/n) had so much other things to be worrying about. Midterms, volleyball practice, his friends. It’s a given that he would move on the things that was no longer on his priority list.

And Kuroo Tetsurou was no exception.

——

It was kind of pathetic to see such a high strung man like Kuroo so shaky and nervous. Though, he felt the same way three months ago, spending the whole golden week perfecting a letter he never got to read. What a hypocrite he was.

(Y/n) cleared his throat. “So...what did you wanna say?”

“I-just,” Kuroo swallowed thickly. “Ah-I...give me a second...”

“Okay, take you time, Kuroo~” he stood back up to his full height, and leaned on the rail across from him. It was obvious they weren’t gonna get anywhere. “So...hows ‘Yumi-chan’ doing?”

“Ah. We broke up. She’s gay. She has a girlfriend now.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. Though, good for her for snagging a girlfriend. No offense.” Kuroo mumbled out a ‘none taken.’ (Y/n) continued.

“Was that what you wanted to talk about? Her breaking up with you?”

“No! Actually, I broke up with her first. And it was...it was kinda mutual.” Kuroo sharply inhaled. “But it does have something to do with what I need to tell you.”

How could he be more obvious. (Y/n) forced a smile. It felt mandatory now. “Really? That’s interesting. Do tell.”

‘Please...Please don’t say it.’

“I broke up with her...because I had these...feelings.”

‘Please don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to see it. I don’t want to read it. I don’t want to know it.’

“And you know how she’s gay? Well, I think I am too.”

‘No shit Sherlock. I don’t wanna hear it. You’ve been fiddling around with your hands like a schoolgirl. Stop it, so we can just be friends like we used to be. Don’t make it awkward. Don’t make me hear it. Please.’

“And...well...”

‘Don’t make me look at your crestfallen face when I say no. It’s too much for even me to handle. I don’t want to see that.’

(Y/n) knitted his eyes shut. A fierce shudder threatened to rattle him and cover Kuroo’s mouth, but he kept still, as difficult as it was. He braced for impact.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

There it was.

(Y/n) pursed his lips and let his smile finally drop. Kuroo looked up from his trained gaze on the ground, only to be met with (Y/n’s) pitiful expression. (Y/n) never saw his face go from hopeful and love struck to devastated and heartbroken so fast.

(Y/n) cleared his throat. He was going to lay him down gently if it was the last thing he did. “...uh.”

He never said it’d be easy, though.

“If it makes you feel better...I did like you once, Tetsurou.” He only used his full first name during important situations, as he switched to using his last name instead of his first a long time ago. A lump grew in Kuroo’s throat.

Kuroo jabbed at his chest exasperatedly. “T-then what’s the problem?! We both-“

“The problem is I don’t love you. Not anymore.” Kuroo fell silent. He was so prepared to do anything it took to win over (Y/n), but after standing in front of him now, it was clear. Watching as he looked down at him with a pitying expression that made his brain go numb. He would get no where if he tried.

“...a-anymore? You liked me before? When!? Why didn’t I know?!” Kuroo grasped fistfuls of his black hair, a cold sweat condensing on his forehead. He was so animatedly desperate it was kind of sad.

“Not too long ago. Though, you kept me waiting since forever. And I thought I could wait forever.” A sorry chuckle emitted from (Y/n’s) lips. “I watched you go though girlfriend after girlfriend, Tetsurou. You even introduced me to Yumimite when I was going to confess to you. How do you think that felt? Even I got tired of waiting.”

“You...you were...” Kuroo had never felt so helpless. (Y/n) shrugged.

“I would give you the love letter I wrote for you that day, but it’s in a trash can somewhere. Ripped to shreds. And I don’t remember the words I wrote. I’m sorry, Tetsurou.” (Y/n) sighed and patted Kuroo on the head.

“You missed your chance...”

Kuroo’s eyes stung, threatening to unleash hell, but he promised himself he wouldn’t cry. No matter what. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck and stood back up.

“I never stood a chance, did i?” Kuroo chuckled. It was a sad chuckle, one that made (Y/n) want to cry aswell.

“That’s the sad part.” (Y/n) pressed his lips into a fine line, turning it into a smile conotated with pity.

“You did once.”

——————

Go sit there and stare at the wall in silence as you feel bad for Kuroo getting rejected by you. Go on, stare. Maybe then I’ll consider a part 2 (and if people comment or reblog asking for a part 2, hee hee.)

#kuroo tetsuro imagine #haikyuu kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #hq kuroo #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo angst #kuroo x male reader #hq x y/n #hq x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu boys #haikyuu angst

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little-lily-w · 3 years

Text

The deer III

(Before: The deer II)

A/N: there’s a moment where you’ll see lines. Keep reading further down.

In between the sounds of branches cracking under your feet, the desperate gasps of exhaustion. Nature was now what it was always meant to be: a raw scenario for a scared prey to be chased by a skilled hunter.

You couldn’t deny he gave you advantage. He wanted to give you advantage. Some place deep inside you knew the reason behind it but it wouldn’t be the first time you were in a situation where someone wanted to tease you, mock you, make fun of you. But this time, something was different. He wasn’t playing with you like Mark, who did so to keep you dumb by his side and thought poorly of your persona. No. The man was playing with you because you were a perfect meal and letting you feel the same adrenaline he experimented was only seasoning for the dinner to come.

You pushed inconvenient leaves aside, messily, as you advanced through the forest. You tried to listen: a car? Anywhere? Any signs of the road? But soon you were forced to stop. Look around. Did you look around? Where is he? Heartbeat, heartbeat, heartbeat.

The pain in your still unhealed forearm caught your attention. There was dirt around the wounds. Fuck. You could almost swear you heard a bird naming you Cinderella. The sound came with the wind but without clear direction. A sudden similar-to-blue light ahead of you caught your attention. Was it him? No. He couldn’t have made it farther than you. Unless he knew a shortcut which didn’t seem a crazy possibility.

You took you risk. Walking to the light with caution with wide pupils and a head that turned and turned to check for him. No sight. Maybe he desisted? Closer to the light, you brought a hand to your forehead to protect your eyes. An old man holding a lantern.

“Oh, dear, what happened to you? Are you okay?”. His words were almost unintelligible to your ears. He moved the lantern closer to inspect your trembling body.

“Help me-help me”, you whispered.

“Okay, um, what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

“Help me!”, you raised your voice, trying to hold onto his forearms.

“Did someone do this to you?”, he asked looking at your cuts.

“He is coming, HE IS COMING”, you sobbed, trying to make him understand that you both needed to get away to the main road as soon as possible.

“Who’s coming dear? What’s the mat-

- -

- - -

- - - -

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

A horrified scream left your throat as the lantern fell onto the ground. The old man’s mouth opened allowing a trail of blood to flow down his chin before he fell as well onto his knees. The arrow was perfectly buried in the pit of his stomach.

You hesitated if to look to your side. You really don’t want to look to your side. With quivering lips you directed your eyes, then your head followed and then your whole torso. The owner of the crossbow has a hoodie. And a black vest. Now you see them, they combine perfectly with the terrifying night above you.His mask was smirking, directly at you, as he prepared the next shot.

“NOOO!”, you yelled and ran again.

The man chuckled silently. Weren’t you a sight to see. He still shot, though. A mobile target wasn’t as easy to reach but it was more fun for sure. But he started to feel in a hurry. Foreplay was nice. Now where’s my food?

Your running was already planned to be a failure. You could blame an entity or luck or maybe the fact that you were too tired to move properly. But eventually you fell. Face hitting the dirt hard, right behind some shrubbery.

“You know I’ll get you, right?”, he said not even loudly. He was close. He knew it. “Hope you enjoyed the fun”.

You covered your mouth to muffle the scared sobs, rigid. Never in your life you thought a voice could have such a tortuous weakening effect in you. He was right there, just three meters away on the other side of the shrubbery. And you were entirely at his mercy which seemed non existent.

“You know? I got your little shoe here.”, he tapped on his trousers’ pocket for you to hear it. “It’s a shame you don’t know how to use it to actually defend yourself”, he commented and it even seemed genuine. “But it’s midnight, Cinderella. Charm is over”.

Tears spilled from your eyes, wetting the frozen knuckles of your hand. You spied catiously, he was determined to inspect the shrubbery and your only chance was to run away before he even noticed. But as soon as you tried to get up... crack.

Yes, try to look down to the ground to see what that traitorous sound was. No, don’t even worry. He is here.

A grip on your ankle like like a tiger’s jaw. He pulled towards him as you squirmed again just like back in the cabin. But this time he wasn’t doing an effort to crawl out of bed. No. This time he was holding you down with his own weight. And you were too easy. Too weak and easy to handle he almost felt pity. Huh, you really believe that?

“Please don’t! Please no! PLEASE!”, you yell at him, at his white mask, silly hands trying to push him away, leaving trails of your recent mess with dirt on his own clothes.

He nod his head ‘no’. “No, not this time”.

“PLEASE!”, you screamed one more time and kept fighting till he got tired of the mess you were doing and instead of choking you like he wanted, he took the crossbow left at his side and hit your head with it.

The world stopped. Should he continue? He could do it. Pretty easy to keep attacking your skull till you die with you already unconcious.

He brought his fingers to his pocket again, touching the cutter handle over the fabric.

“Maybe it’s your lucky night with Prince Charming”, he smirked and got up, looking down at the mess on his clothes and on your laid body. He picked up his crossbow and grabbed a new hold on your ankle. Dragging you like a wild animal he just caught.

Walking away.

#hush man #hush man x reader #the man (hush)#the man x reader #the man x you #hush movie #slashers x reader #slasher #slashers #slasher fandom

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diavolosthots · 4 years

Note

Could you make a fic about mc becoming an angel and (boyfriend) Beelzebub is not completely comfortable with it. And that mc will (literally) fall for him

I cant hurt the baby too much... 👉👈 fuck okay

Warning: angst -> happy ending

My Angel ( BEELZEBUB X GN!READER )

He tried so, so hard not to compare you to her. He tried to forget about everything he knows now and just be with you, but it was so hard when everyone around him always brought it up. To him, it wasn’t a fact he felt like he should care about. You were your own person; your own being. You had angel’s blood inside of you, yes, but that meant nothing when you had a human heart of pure gold. He loved you, so much, and he was sure to tell you every single day that he had the honor of holding you in his arms. Being cheesy wasn’t always up his alley, but you were different. He feared the day you would leave him and that’s why he had to make sure to be present every day; so he could be with you every single day.

But then you disappeared. Literally. He looked away for one second and you were gone. The whole Devildom was turned upside down in an attempt to find you again, screaming out your name in the process. For days the search went on, alerting all the brothers and even Lord Diavolo, but to no avail. Beel was… crushed. Heartbroken. Confused. He even went as far as to blame the Demon Lord himself, ending up in him being scolded by Lucifer immediately, but he didn’t care. He locked himself in the attic like Belphie did so often, finding comfort in his brother’s familiar scent; family. You are family too, and he hated not having you here. He felt lonely.

For weeks he continued to search for you, until he thought he was going crazy. Flashes of bright light would appear in the corner of his eyes, confusing him, making him think someone was there, but no one ever was. Sudden rushes of warmth would caress over his skin, causing him to shiver instead at the unfamiliar touch, “what…?” He’d deem himself crazy, insane for the lack of sleep he’s been having thanks to your missing presence. Nothing was blamed on you, of course, it was just so much harder with you gone, especially since there was no explanation for it, “(Y/N)...”

“Beel..” His head whipped around, staring out the attic window. The tiny space has somewhat become his comfort zone, something Belphie hated but never said anything against because he hated seeing his brother hurt more. “Beelzebub..” No.. it can’t be.. It was your voice, and his head whipped around right as you appeared in a flash of bright light. He shielded his eyes with his arms, having not seen this in so long, “(Y/N)?” You were gorgeous, standing in front of him. Ropes of white and gold, tangled with a bright blue, covered your body. Beautiful wings spring from your back and you even held up a halo. His eyes went wide, taken aback at what he saw, “what…” But happiness overtook his confusion and he ran to you, lifting you up in his arms and spinning you around.

Happy tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he held you, just happy to have you back. Your laughter resonated in his ears as you held onto him, not wanting to let go either. “How…?” He sat you back down carefully, looking you over, “I… I don’t know. Simeon took me one day, saying it was getting too late… I was so confused.. He took me to the celestial realm and said that Lilith’s… her DNA was spiking up inside of me, and I needed to get out of the Devildom. That’s when this happened… Am I not beautiful?” You twirled around once, a wide grin spreading across your features, but it was not something he could return.

A soft smile grazed his lips instead, more so at the relief that you were okay, rather than what he actually saw. You were beautiful, yes, stunning even, but it hurt to look at you. He doesn’t mind Simeon or Luke, or any angel that isn’t necessarily close to him, but you… you’re human. You’re not supposed to be this… supernatural being. You shouldn’t have to suffer like he does, by being alive for all eternity, “(Y/N)...” But he didn’t tell you that. He couldn’t. Not when he just got you back.

So, for months he hid it. He hid his discomfort, his fear, and his hatred. Not toward you, of course, just toward what you are. He glared at Simeon, too, partially blaming it on him, but mostly, he blamed himself. Had it not been for him looking away, had he just kept you in his arms instead, this would not have happened, he’s convinced of it. His touches became less, his ears were barely listening to you, his facade was slowly breaking. He wouldn’t admit, though, too afraid of hurting you.

But, really, he was hurting you more by the way he looked, or didn’t.

You knew something didn’t sit right with him; you knew… you knew he didn’t like it, but Beelzebub was too good, too lovely to tell you that. Anyone else, yes, but not you. You smiled sadly at him, taking his hand in yours, stroking your thumb over his knuckles, “Beel..” He sighed, trying to keep his hand in yours, although eye contact would not be granted, “I.. I know… It makes you uncomfortable…” Sad eyes turned to yours, looking at you for the first time in months; genuinely looking at you. “I’m sorry..” he didn’t know what else to say. He loved you, so much. He didn’t want to let go, but it was so hard to keep looking at you.

You shrugged softly, a sad smile still playing on your lips, “I don’t want you to hurt anymore… I’ll fall,... for you…” His eyes went wide in shock, his hand squeezing yours tightly, “(Y/N)... t-that’s… no you… can’t..” Of course, part of him.. A sick, sadistic part of him was overjoyed by the thought of you falling, but he didn’t want you to hurt, and it would. It would be agonizing, painful. It’ll feel like your flesh is pulled away from your bones, your soul eating away at your insides. You leaned over, kissing him softly, not giving him more than a though, “be there to catch me?”

He was.

He was there the day you decided to fall, flying up high into the Devildom sky to catch you before you could hit the ground. Strong arms wrapped around your broken frame, the beautiful, pure white, replaced by dark, charcoal black. He cried. Softly landing on his feet as he held you, waiting for you to wake. Feathers burnt off your wings as memories from the war came rushing back into his head. He screamed out, clutching you against his chest and sobbing until you woke, barely mustering a smile.

Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, your gentle touch turning him weaker. “Thank you…for loving me… for letting me love you…”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #om beelzebub #obey me beelzebub #beelzebub obey me #shall we date beelzebub #beelzebub avatar of gluttony #obey me beel x reader #angst

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hexensalbei · 3 years

Text

play with fire

find on ao3

This is going to be a fun ride.

The silence in the car is scary because itʼs uncomfortable and that has never been a problem before. Buck shoots a quick glance at his friend. Eddieʼs eyes are fixated on the road, his jaw so clenched, Buck swears, he can hear his teeth gritting. His hands are on the steering wheel but his grip is so tight, his knuckles are white. Yeah, heʼs definitely mad.

The problem is that Buck doesnʼt know why Eddie is so furious.

Fine.

Maybe he knows. But that doesnʼt mean he understands. Heʼs never seen Eddie that angry. He remembers vividly when Eddie snapped at him in the grocery store right after the lawsuit—but itʼs just a pale comparison to his rage now. It doesnʼt make sense—because Buck didnʼt do anything stupid like another lawsuit—he just... He just did his job.

He risked his life to save someone elseʼs but he does it almost on a daily basis; Eddie does the exact same thing and yet, Buck has never snapped at him. So why is it different now?

Because you almost died today says an annoying voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like his sister.

Because you almost died in Eddieʼs fucking arms.

Buck tries to ignore it; he has to ignore it because if he doesnʼt, heʼll drown in guilt and shame. And probably wake up some long forgotten demons.

He canʼt re-live it again and again.

When they stop, he realises, theyʼre in front of Eddieʼs house and heʼs genuinely surprised his friend brought him here.

“This isnʼt my apartment.” He blurts out. He knows itʼs probably the dumbest thing he couldʼve said but he doesnʼt understand why Eddie took him to his home if heʼs pissed off at him. Itʼd be definitely easier to cool off if the source of his anger wasnʼt there, right?

“Like hell Iʼm letting you stay alone after the shit you did.”

Thereʼs something in Eddieʼs voice that makes Buck squirm. He sounds angry, sure, but also hurt, broken. Resigned. He sounds exactly like when Shannon died.

Buck knows that because he was there. He remembers how mad Eddie was at his wife for leaving him and Christopher again, this time for good.

Eventually, Eddie gets out of the car and goes to the house. Buck quietly follows his best friendʼs footsteps and he flinches when Eddie drops off his bag on the floor.

“You can take a shower if you want, Iʼll make up the bed.”

He knows Buck too well; he knows that Buck hates the specific smell of the hospital and always tries to get rid of it as soon as possible. Buckʼs really grateful for that also because he can simply postpone their argument, just for a little bit. Maybe shower will help him cool off because heʼs irritated too but he doesnʼt truly want to fight with Eddie. He goes to the bathroom, takes off his clothes and steps under the shower. He lets the cold water run down his body and he really tries to calm himself; there was enough drama today and yeah, he almost died so he deserves to have a moment of uninterrupted peace. Or so he thinks. Heʼs getting more and more cold and he knows he should get out before Eddie will storm inside and drag him out of the shower. Buck wouldnʼt be even surprised if his friend did something like this.

Then, with a long sigh, he turns off the water and steps out of the shower. He quickly rinses himself with a towel and slips into his most comfortable clothes. Whatʼs a little funny and maybe even ironic, his favorite grey, worn out t-shirt is actually Eddieʼs and it even smells like him.

Crap.

He really needs to finally leave the bathroom and face his friend but heʼs trying to delay the inevitable by thoroughly brushing his teeth. And then, he doesnʼt find anything else he can do so he goes back to the living room. Heʼs quite surprised that he doesnʼt see the pillows or blanket on the couch because he thought heʼs gonna sleep there and heʼs even more surprised he doesnʼt see Eddie there. He finds him in the kitchen instead, leaning against the counter and nursing his favourite beer. Thereʼs a glimpse of hope in Buckʼs chest that maybe Eddie cooled off a little, that maybe he realised he has exaggerated and his anger isnʼt completely justified. Heʼs wrong, though. Eddie is not even slightly less annoyed and it takes Buck one look at his best friend to realise that.

He sighs again because Eddieʼs anger starts to get on his nerves. He moves closer until he stands against Eddie and looks him in the eye.

“Do what you have to do, letʼs get this over with.” He says with a tiredness in his voice. The only thing he wants right now is sleep, he wants to fall asleep and forget about the whole world for a couple of hours. “If you want to yell at me then be my guest and do it. I donʼt even care.”

“Oh, so now youʼre annoyed at me? Really?” Eddie asks wryly and sets aside the bottle with a little too much force, it almost smashes. Neither of them care anyway. Theyʼre now standing against each other, so close they almost hear each otherʼs heartbeat and they fix each other with a glare.

“Yeah, I am. You act like Iʼve done something wrong, like I wasnʼt supposed to do this and—”

Heʼs cut off by Eddie who lets out a humourless laugh and answers in a higher voice than usual.

“God, do you even listen to yourself? You went to that building all by yourself, you disobeyed Bobbyʼs specific orders to not go there because youʼre you and youʼre above all the orders, right? It doesnʼt matter if Bobby did it because he didnʼt want to risk one of us dying there. But you just couldnʼt listen.”

“Funny thatʼs coming out from the man who cut his rope and almost died in the well.” Buck interjects viciously because heʼs truly angered by now.

Something flashes in Eddieʼs eyes but Buck canʼt name it. He doesnʼt even have the time to think about it because his best friend doesnʼt back out.

“Itʼs not relevant now, weʼre talking about today and your stupid, reckless behaviour. What were you thinking? Or-Or maybe donʼt. You probably werenʼt thinking at all. Obviously. And it almost cost you a life! Your life! How can you be so reckless?!” Eddie shouts and the pain in his voice is very noticeable but Buck pretends to ignore it.

“Iʼm a firefighter. Itʼs kinda in a job description, donʼt you think? Sometimes I have to be a little reckless. Besides, I did save a life and I didnʼt die either, right? Otherwise I wouldnʼt be standing there and listen to you being all pissed.” Buck shrugs like itʼs nothing, like he really doesnʼt care about his life. Itʼs probably another thing he shouldnʼt have said because Eddie straightens up and now, thereʼs almost no space between. For the second Buck thinks Eddie will lash out and just hit him. He kinda wishes he did. But Eddie only sighs heavily and rakes through his hair with frustration.

“God, youʼre driving me crazy, Buckley. Youʼre so dumb and stubborn and you donʼt even stop for a second to think about the consequences of your actions. You donʼt even care what would happen if you actually died, do you?”

Thereʼs something in Eddieʼs voice, something hard to catch and name that stops Buck from responding immediately. His words are ringing in his ears because they are annoyingly true. He didnʼt think about the consequences of his eventual death. He literally just stormed inside the building to find a man despite Bobbyʼs direct order to not go there because it was already too dangerous. He did it anyway, he managed to save a life but he didnʼt manage to get out in time and the whole building just collapsed. He doesnʼt remember much but he certainly remembers being held out by Eddie and his donʼt you dare die here, you dumbass.

It mustʼve been scary, he admits, and he thinks he understands how Eddie mustʼve felt because he also saw his best friend almost dying. But the anger? He still doesnʼt get it.

“Iʼve had a few close calls during the years. Why is it so different now?” He finally asks.

“Because Iʼm in love with you, you asshole!” Eddie cries out. “And you just keep dying on me and I canʼt take it anymore!”

Buckʼs brain short-circuits. He mustʼve died after all, right? There is no real possibility Eddie just told heʼs in love with him. Thereʼs no possibility he may actually reciprocate his feelings. Thereʼs no way itʼs not just his hallucination or some kind of weird dream in his afterlife. But he desperately wants to be the truth, desperately needs validation for his thoughts. So he does the first thing that comes to his mind: he grabs Eddie by the collar of his Henley and crashes their lips together. His friend is definitely surprised, even shocked and for a moment, he does nothing. Buck already starts to panic because he thinks it’s real and he might’ve misheard everything or even projected it and just destroyed their friendship. But then, Eddie suddenly changes position and pushes Buck until he leans against the counter. And when he kisses him, all thoughts and doubts are completely gone from Buckʼs mind. The only things that matter are Eddieʼs lips on his, Eddieʼs hands on his body, Eddie utterly focused on him and that desperate need to fulfil their desire. Buck mightʼve kissed a lot of people in his life; he has had both awkward and amazing kisses but they cannot compete to make out with his best friend. It feels entirely different, maybe because Eddie loves him back. They break apart only for a couple of seconds to take a breath; Buck sits on the counter and brings Eddie closer by the belt. He canʼt take his eyes off him; Eddie looks wonderful with already swollen lips, flushed cheeks and a spark in his eyes. He probably looks no better but he doesnʼt even care.

“I know youʼve probably already noticed but I love you too, asshole.” He says in a teasing voice, inches away from Eddieʼs lips.

“Well, I mightʼve suspected it when you kissed me but itʼs nice to actually hear it. But donʼt even think that you say you love me, bat your eyelashes and kiss me this way and I wonʼt be angry at you.” Eddie warns half-seriously.

“I can try.” Buck just smirks and kisses him again. This time, he also quickly unbuckles the belt Eddieʼs wearing and starts to lift his shirt. His friend doesnʼt even protest, he lets him do whatever he wants and thatʼs why his Henley ends up somewhere on the floor. Then, the blonde moves from his lips to his neck and slowly makes his way down, planting kisses on his chest. Itʼs crazy how quickly their anger turned into lust. Now, the tension between them is much better, more exciting, easy to resolve.

Eddie lets out a loud moan when Buck—this sneaky bastard—grabs his ass and squeezes it.

“Youʼre a menace.” He hisses.

“Oh, you should wait with the sweet talk after Iʼm done with you, Diaz.” Buck grins and he doesnʼt stop with the teasing. He unzips Eddieʼs jeans painfully slowly and Eddie almost whines to hurry up. The younger man notices it and winks at him before he adds. “Although Iʼm not sure if youʼll be able to talk at all.”

“So maybe quit talking, Evan, and show me your skills?”

“As you wish, Edmundo.”

#911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fic #buddie ficlet #911 fic #lucy writes #lucy's attempt to write

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sweetbunnykook · 4 years

Text

Something Borrowed, Something Blue

Beast with Two Backs II

Yandere husband!JK x Rescued wife!Noona - Oneshot/Drabble

Warning: dub-con (groping, kissing), abuse of power (emotional manipulation, financial abuse, starvation), handcuffs

Word: 1,557

Synopsis: When Jungkook’s love hurt more than his punishments.

“Please, please, Jungkook, I won’t do it again. Please,” you whimper, pulling on the handcuffs as your husband places the disc inside a DVD player and waits for it to load. He struggles to keep his expression cold when you’re already crying as soon as you wake up to find the cuffs are still wrapped around your wrists. He adjust his cufflinks to distract himself from the fact that maybe he went too far this time.

He didn’t mean to make you cry but this is the only way you’ll learn that you’re meant to be with him. If you see how adorable you look next to him during the wedding, you’ll learn that you don’t need anyone else. You don’t need to keep fighting him, to turn your cheeks away when he wants to kiss you goodbye before work, to cover yourself when he watches you bathe in a tub full of flowers.

When the familiar orchestral music sounds from the speakers you let out a hoarse cry, thrashing in the white bridal nightie you’ve been wearing for the last two days. You’re sick of the romantic soundtrack and even more sick of seeing yourself docile and naïve in Jungkook’s arms, your eyes glazed from the opiates running through your veins on that day.

Jungkook’s head turns quickly towards when he hears the harsh cacophony of steel scraping against wood and immediately comes to your bedside to keep your hands still.

“Stop moving so much, you’re going to hurt yourself.” He commands, brows drawn together as he witnesses the deep red marks around your wrists. You must have been pulling on them all night despite knowing the wooden bedpost is indestructible and there’s no chance of escape.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you cry, curling your legs up to your torso and burying your face in the feather pillows. “Please,” you look up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks, your soft hiccups and sobs melting his heart in the right places. “I won’t be bad anymore. I’m so hungry…please, Jungkook…”

His lips press together as he feels tears blur his own vision and he momentarily turns away to wipe his face with the flat of his palm. You feel a twinge of hope when he opens the nightstand drawer and pull out a black box with a neat white ribbon wrapped around the edges. He sits on the edge of the bed next to your curled figure and unwraps the package to reveal four rows of chocolates, six on each row.

Your stomach growls and cramps upon the sight of such glossy chocolate truffles, each with a berry vanilla cream tucked in the center. Jungkook finds your wide eyes endearing as you glare at the chocolates as if it’ll fall into your mouth the harder you looked. It’s not exactly nutritious food, but sweets are just as tantalizing as a three-course meal. In your situation, you can’t find it in you to complain.

Jungkook pulls the box away for a second, relishing in your sweet whines, as he stumbles upon an idea. He runs his fingers over the chocolates and then back at you with your head buried in the pillows but red eyes trained on his, arms twisted to leave a small gap between the cuffs and the bruised skin around your wrists. Making a final decision, he takes the remote controller on the nightstand and turns off the television. The silence of the bedroom elicits a sigh of relief that you hope he won’t notice, but he does anyway and momentarily feels saddened by it. He then kneels closer to your body, wrapping an arm around your waist and hoisting you up on the pillow so your back can rest. The angle provides orgasmic relief to your strained arms and shoulders that you can’t help but moan softly, the sound of your saccharine voice making Jungkook’s hands falter as he tucks your hair behind your ears and cups your face with one hand.

He reaches next to him and brings the chocolate up to your lips, watching your eyes widen as you crane your neck to bring it into your mouth. He doesn’t give you the satisfaction as he slips the truffle in his own mouth and brings his lips over yours. Your greedy tongue licks the cream on his lips before you roam your tongue into his mouth and swallow melted chocolate, ignoring the pang of pleasure that breeds warmth deep in your core when Jungkook brushes his tongue against yours. His long hair tickles your cheeks as he moves cautiously against your lips. If your hands were free, you would have pulled him closer by his black coat lapels to feel more of him. He gasps when you lick a stripe up his chin to catch the remaining cream before digging your tongue back into his mouth until all the sugary sweetness dissipates.

The chocolates are so milky and fragrant you can feel tears prickle the edge of your eyes which Jungkook softly wipes away with the pads of his thumb. His darling, so easy to punish, so easy to please. He reaches over to the remote and places it next to the box of chocolate, giving you the ultimatum he’d written in his mind: either you watch the wedding again and starve for the day or you can satiate a part of your cravings by giving him the kisses you’d denied him.

“Do you want more?” He asks, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip and trailing his warm palms over your heart, beneath the sheer nightie to feel the soft swells of your breasts.

“Answer me.” He digs his fingers in your skin and gropes your mounds whole.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

You swallow the chocolate remaining in the back of your throat like you swallow your pride. “Yes, sweetheart.”

His smile is wide and bright as he trails his hands down further down to your waist to rub your aching belly. Your knees come together when he brings his fingers down towards your womb and draw circles around your hipbones.

“That’s my good girl.”

He pops another chocolate in his mouth and brings his soft lips to yours once more, tongues moving against each other while the truffle disappears into a syrupy sweetness that leaves you whimpering like a lost kitten.

Jungkook knows he must leave for work or else he’ll be late to the meeting but he’s drowning in pleasure and your tongue is driving him crazy. He longed to feel your kisses, to feel your softness on his skin, to watch the flush on cheeks deepen and your thighs rubbing together to satiate a different kind of craving he longed to hear you beg him for. For now, he’s satisfied with just your lips. It doesn’t hit you until much later that the chocolate has long melted and your lips are moving against Jungkook’s out of its own will. His hands cups underneath your jaw to angle your head as he wishes and you ignore that feeling of worthlessness that will crawl its way up your cuffed legs after he’s gone. For now, the pleasure is too great to refuse and your husband smelled too good, tasted too good, and felt too good pressed against your body.

If you didn’t misbehave, your days could be more like this, filled with more of his loving touches and kisses. Had you met him under different circumstances, had he genuinely wanted you as a wife and not as a pet he feeds in exchange for your attention and love, you would have fallen for him. You wish you could go back to the time when you thought Jungkook was your savior and not your captor. You wish you can go back to the time when the scent of his cologne brought you peace and the warmth of his coat around your shoulders gave you a feeling of home you haven’t had in a long time.

With a gasp, you turn your head to the side, peeling your lips away from his. Your breaths are harsh and labored and your eyes are wide as you’re hit with a pang of realization that the pleasure you’re feeling now is part of his punishment. These doses of affection between anger makes you believe everything is okay but you know as soon as he leaves for work and you’re forced to think about yourself, everything comes crashing down.

“Can you undo the cuffs? B-before you go to work?” You ask while he’s catching his breath.

Jungkook nods eagerly, still buzzed with delight as he snakes the key out of his pockets and undo your handcuffs. He rubs your sore wrists and kisses them softly. You sit and watch him worship every knuckle and every crevice of your hands with his lips, exhaling when you don’t pull away for once. Perhaps the punishments are working, he thinks.

Fresh drops of tears roll down your cheeks once more and Jungkook murmurs your name before kissing them away. He thinks you’re relieved about your freed arms and the first taste of joy that you willingly took from his mouth.

What he doesn’t know is that you’re crying for him, and for what could have been, had he given you a chance to learn what love is.

#bunny:drabble #I had so much work to do today and you know what that means 🤣 time for a drabble!!!!#beast with two backs JK #something borrowed something blue #yandere jungkook #bts fanfiction #bangtan fanfiction #Jungkook fanfiction #Jungkook angst #bts angst

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abundanceofnots · 4 years

Note

Ficlet idea: Now that Mickey’s using kevs gym he’s been giving guys tips from his prison workouts. Ian is NOT happy about the level of attention he gets when he stops by one day

(You can read this fic here, or on AO3.)

So, the KevFit membership was still a thing. Cool.

And, okay, listen. It wasn’t that Ian minded Mickey going to the gym. Of course, he didn’t. It was just the way this whole thing came to be that Ian wouldn’t call ideal.

Mickey liked to say Ian body-shamed him into working out, and frankly, Ian could see why he would.

They gave each other shit all the time. Laughed about hairy toes, prodded at each other’s saggy parts. And when they were both in the right headspace, it was just that—provoking banter. But Mickey, being the sensitive creature that he was, sometimes took it too close to heart.

And yeah, maybe Ian nagged him a few too many times about staying healthy after the lockdown started when Mickey’s only method of balancing out his liquid beer diet was riding Ian’s dick. But by then, it felt like they’d been occupying the same 1x1 bedroom for years, so it wasn’t exactly Ian’s fault.

If Mickey decided to go about it this way, great. Seriously. It only meant that Ian didn’t need to worry about getting his knuckles bruised anytime soon. And while he secretly mourned the loss of Mickey’s soft belly, he wasn’t going to complain. Not when Mickey looked the way he did now.

The thought was on Ian’s mind again that morning while he brushed his teeth over the bathroom sink, using the time on his hands to watch his husband in the mirror as he showered.

The curtain was only partially closed, just enough so that Mickey wasn’t splashing water around the tub while still leaving space for Ian to see him.

And boy, did he see him.

His broad shoulders. His arms stretching as he ran his hands through his wet hair. The dimples on his back. The marks Ian left on his ass when they fucked earlier.

When Mickey turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub, Ian found himself drawn to the little water droplets sliding over the Ian Galager tattoo and down his pecs, his abs, the V shape of his hips, and into his pubes.

Ian only realized he entirely forgot to move the toothbrush in his mouth when one corner of Mickey’s mouth curled into a teasing smirk.

“The fuck are you looking at?” Mickey asked, sounding smug as hell as he reached for his towel.

“Definitely not your ugly mug.”

Coming out all muffled, Ian’s words lost some of their intended edges. He angled himself back to the sink and spat.

“You have the tits of a 12-year-old girl,” he added quickly like there was a five-second rule for when you could still save your diss. He looked up just in time to see Mickey scrunch his face in mild outrage.

“Fuck off, these are C cups at least.”

“Like you're such an expert on those.”

Ian let out a low yelp as Mickey unexpectedly smacked his back, right around where his Monica tattoo was.

“Well, they're not your mom's tits, that's for sure,” Mickey noted through a sneer.

He then went back to drying himself, and Ian allowed himself to openly gawk at his slightly misty reflection again.

Several mechanical strokes of his toothbrush later, the thought came back, clouding his mind with an ugly feeling.

The intuitive thing would be to push it back and pretend like everything was okay, but they were married now and told each other shit, right? He had to say something.

“Going to the gym again today?” Ian asked eventually, trying to come off as noncommittal as he could with his mouth full and his eyes trained on the drain.

Obviously, he didn’t mind getting horny over his buff husband. No, the actual reason Ian was so bothered about all this was that other people now had free reigns to get horny over him as well.

You see, since Mickey started paying Kev’s gym his regular visits, he’d managed to attract a flock of followers. Fucking fans.

That, at least, was what Ian called them. Mickey, of course, didn’t see it like that. For him, they were paying customers.

“It’s easy money, man. And the crowd’s gettin’ bigger and bigger every week.” Mickey looked pleased as he wrapped the towel around his hips. “Anyway, it’s not like I have to do much. Most of the time, I just do my thing, and the bunch of ‘em stare at my ass.”

Ian bent forward and spat.

“So basically, they pay to jerk off your ego,” he pointed out, slumping his shoulders to show how totally unimpressed he was by that notion.

“’Xactly. And maybe something else, too.”

Mickey’s cackle followed him out into the hallway as he left Ian alone in the bathroom.

---

It was clearly a joke. A nasty joke that was supposed to leave a sting, but there was absolutely no need for Ian to worry. And he kept telling himself that all day—right until the moment he entered the badly-lit backroom of the Alibi and found himself in the company of a pack of Northsiders in designer label gym clothes.

Before he could spot Mickey anywhere among them, some blond guy in what seemed like an uncomfortably too tight a tank top came to his side.

„Looks like we have a newcomer in our midst.” The guy clicked his tongue, giving Ian an blatant once-over. “You here for the Mickeffect?”

„The what?“

„The Mickeffect. That’s what we call this class. Unofficially, of course, because the class is sorta kinda unofficial, too.” At that, he sniggered, which Ian immediately found annoying. “3pm, every Tuesday and Thursday. You from the Facebook group?”

Ian resisted the urge to scoff. “Uh, no.”

“Just lucky coincidence, then? Well, since you’re already here, I think you’re gonna enjoy yourself. The dude who leads this class is ex-con, so he knows all the right ways to abuse the body if you know what I mean.”

Clenching his fists inside the pockets of his sweatpants, Ian smiled politely and nodded. He wasn’t going to give this blond douchebag the satisfaction and punch him in the face. Not yet, at least.

“Hot as hell, too. And man, that ass. Simply de-licious. The whole thing actually only went off after I posted a video of him doing squats. Got 50k views in a day, a whole article on PinkNews a week later. The title was The Ex-con Hunk Who Makes Chicagoans Sweat Like Crazy – And Then Tells Them Off. Funny.”

The guy shrugged in this wannabe innocent you know how it is way. Ian was relieved to realize he really, really didn’t.

“We get new people all the time, but the return rate is terrible,” Blond Douchebag continued, amazingly. “Most of the boys come for Mickey but then leave with someone else. Maybe you’ll get lucky here, too.”

“I’m married,“ Ian retorted, hoping it would be enough to make him stop talking.

But Blond Douchebag didn’t even blink. “Yeah, so are some of the guys here. And he is, too, but I don’t think he’s the typa guy who would be deterred by that.“

Careful there, pal, Ian thought. Or you might find your pretty face landing very unprettily on a beer keg.

“Oh, hey!“

The familiar voice came out of nowhere, prematurely ending Ian’s plans to show this complete dickwad the practical meaning of the word concussion.

His head snapped to his right where Mickey was now standing, his eyes carefully roaming over Ian. There was a softness in them for a moment before his whole face morphed into a smirk.

„Came to learn something from the expert?” he teased.

Ian clenched his jaw. “Something like that.”

As Mickey moved past them, Blond Douchebag gave Ian a sly wink.

---

Ian wasn’t sure what kind of problems the snooty Northsiders could possibly be dealing with in their private lives, but this whole thing seemed to have almost therapeutical effects on them.

Mickey called them Ansel Elgort (not a compliment) or White Kanye West (also not a compliment) while he listened to their crap, and they giggled like teenage girls. He yelled at them for being pussies, and they were only a touch away from popping a boner. It made zero fucking sense.

And Mickey, well. The dickhead was so clearly giving them an upgraded version to his usual performance. Biting his bottom lip all the time. Flexing his muscles a little too hard. Grabbing everyone’s attention by letting out these exaggerated grunts.

Ian officially reached his bullshit limit when Mickey finished off a set of pull-ups and promptly took his shirt off to wipe his face. The way everything around him seemed to come to a stop for a hot minute had Ian’s eyes rolling.

It was totally ridiculous. Were these guys really so desperate?

Getting a better grip on the skipping rope he was using, Ian caught Mickey watching him, his brows arched, the dare behind them so plain and obvious.

And yeah, okay, asshole. Two could play this game.

“You know what,” Ian started out loud so everyone could hear him. He let the rope fall to his feet and instead tugged his own shirt off. “We did things a little differently in the army.”

His grin widened when he heard one of the guys audibly gulp.

---

“Fifty!”

“One hundred!”

“Fuck off, you can’t do one hundred push-ups in one go.”

“With one hand behind my back.”

Maybe kneeling on the feet of two wheezing guys doing sit-ups wasn’t the best time to have a whispered shouting match with your husband, but honestly, Ian couldn’t give two shits. Mickey was seriously pissing him off—and like hell was he going to let him win. Even if it was just this one petty argument.

“You need stamina when you’re the top. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to do all the fucking work while the bottom just lies there.”

“Oh, oh, please! Tell us more about your workouts in the army. Was this before or after you tried to run away from there by stealing a damn helicopter?”

They were suddenly aware that their periphery vision got surprisingly still. Almost in tandem, they looked down at the alarmed expressions of their trainees.

“Did I fuckin’ tell you to stop, Asthma Boy?” Mickey grumbled at his guy. “Gimme three more sets of twenty!”

---

Blond Douchebag must have taken a genuine liking to him because he later offered to cover Ian as he pounded into the punching bag. And while he technically did hold onto the punching bag, his eyes were always on Mickey.

“Wonder who Ian is,” he mused as he observed Mickey’s topless form. “Think it’s the husband? Probably doesn’t even realize what a hot piece of ass he’s got at home.”

Too easy. It would be entirely too easy to pretend Ian’s hand slipped and he hit him by mistake, and he wasn’t going to stoop that low. He wasn’t.

Taking in a deep breath, Ian started punching harder.

He wasn’t.

“Everything okay here?”

Mickey had his shirt tucked under the elastic band of his pants, and from the corner of his eyes, Ian couldn’t help but notice the light sheen of sweat that covered his face and upper body. He wasn’t the only one.

“Oh, more than okay,” Blond Douchebag practically purred.

Punch. Punch. Punch.

“Whoa, Ian, hey.” Mickey sounded worried. “Take it easy, man.”

And fucking finally, that seemed to have done the job. Because Blond Douchebag wasn’t looking at Mickey anymore, he was looking back at Ian, and his bravado was long gone. Now, there was childlike fear in his stance, and Ian almost pitied him.

“Oh shit. You’re Ian,” he managed before the next punch landed right into his face, knocking him down on the floor.

Panting, Ian stood over him as he clutched his bleeding nose.

“Yes, I’m Ian,” he snarled at him. “And his ass is all mine.”

Someone gripped his arm then.

“Okay, the show’s over, Muhammad Ali. Better get out of here,” Mickey muttered as he pushed Ian across the gym, past all the Northside wimps who seemed too tired to do anything other than being in shock. “Come on. Ian, come the fuck on!”

From the Alibi, they ran. Sprinted along the streets and over honking cars, zig-zagged through commuters, and flipped off those who wolf-whistled at their half-naked bodies. They ran until they ended up in a dirty alley with no one else in sight, their sides on fire, and broke into a fit of laughter.

Ian only realized Mickey brought his shirt when he used it to slap his chest.

“Jealous fucker.”

“Shut the fuck up. Wasn’t jealous.”

But Mickey was still wearing that suggestive whatcha gonna do now smirk, and his lips were shiny from being licked over just a second ago, and so the next thing Ian knew, he was pushing him against a wall and kissing him thoroughly.

His hands went to Mickey’s ass, lifting him up just slightly as his fingers dug in, and Ian pulled back to let out a moan.

“Mm, I fuckin’ love your ass.”

Mickey groaned. “Jesus Christ, please don’t tell me all of this was because of my ass.”

Leaning down again, Ian murmured into his mouth: “Isn’t it always?”

#sorry anon this took FOREVER #hope it makes you laugh at least #they're being dumb and competitive and in love #just how we like 'em #shameless fanfiction #gallavich fic #gallavich #writing prompt #my fics

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fangirl-creates · 4 years

Text

ZERO OVER YONDER (FULL FIC)

(Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!)

1 - Banjo Pluck

“Look, all I’m saying is—would it kill Rippen to just have a little chill once in a while?” The red-headed boy vented to his friends as they walked to the movie theater.

“Penn, Rippen is Rippen. Of course he’s still gonna be rude to you when we’re not saving the Multiverse.” Sashi commented, wanting desperately to hear the end of these complaints spilling out of Penn’s mouth.

“Well yeah, obviously. But today, there was just no end to it! Like even when I was eating lunch, BAM! There he was!” He folded his arms, his face turning about as red as his hair at this point.

Rippen had definitely been more annoying than usual today. The reason? Probably having a bad day and picking on Penn was the only thing that would bring him ‘joy’...if you’d even call it that. And even though Penn had learned to ignore Rippen during times like these, today was one of those ‘impatient’ days for Penn Zero—considering the fact he had stayed up till 3am last night on a count of The Chinchilla bothering him again.

“Don’t worry about it, dude.” Boone put his arm around his friend, patting his back. “I’m sure beating Rippen again will put you in a good mood. Think of it as a way to get back at him.”

“Yeah!” Sashi chimed in. “I’ll even let you kick him in the face this time.” She smiled.

Penn felt a little better, the red from his face fading away. “Thanks, guys.”

The trio stepped onto their usual spots on the zap platform, Penn cracking his knuckles.

“I’m really gonna let him have it today.” He grinned between his teeth.

“Violence must wait till tomorrow!” Phyllis called from her spot on the balcony.

Penn titled his head. “...I don’t understand.”

“You will see.” She pulled the lever, the trio levitating as they were forced into the portal. “GOOD LUCK!”

After the brilliant blue flash, Penn opened his eyes. Space. He saw Space. Below him was the material of some kind of smaller planet he stood on—“Purple-colored dirt” in his Earth vocabulary. But that wasn’t the thing that surprised him...it was the body he was in. It was weirdly insulating, like a very thick fur coat—that’s when he realized he was covered in it. Orange fur coated him from head to toe. The only articles of clothing he was actually wearing were white socks and some slightly worn blue sneakers. He felt..uncomfortable.

“Penn?” Sashi’s voice made itself known.

Penn looked up, a bit surprised she was taller than him now. “Sashi! You’re a—uh….” He studied his friend’s new look. She was blue with a pink mane—yet her body itself was a cross between a horse and a dinosaur. He shrugged it off. “Never mind.” He looked around for the Wiseman. “Where’s Boone?”

“Right here!” A confident voice called, Penn searching for the source.

“Boone? Where are-” He noticed Sashi pointing above his head, to which he realized he was wearing a hat as well. He took it off to find the rather large green hat staring back at him. “Oh.”

“Oh yeah. I definitely feel like a wiseman now…”

“Cause you were on my head and you feel like you can give me knowledge that way.” Penn raised a brow.

Boone did what was an attempted shrug. “Who knows...maybe I’m magic.”

Penn rolled his eyes, placing Boone back on his head. “Okay Sash, check the specs.”

Sashi pressed the side of her glasses, which were now a dark purple to complement the colors of her new form. The holographic image showed up in front of them. “You are a wandering Do-Gooder, and I am your trusty steed and best friend.”

“What about me?” Boone asked, feeling a little left out.

“You’re his hat.” ….She didn’t add anything else.

“Well, I still think I might be magic.” He looked away. “You two just don’t know it yet.”

Sashi rolled her eyes. “Annnnyway, the evil Lord Hater is planning to conquer another innocent planet with his army of Watchdogs. It’s up to us to stop him before he manages to leave the planet successful.” Normally, this was the part where the hologram would disappear, but it lingered.

“All right! Sounds easy enough.” Penn pounded his fists together. “I’ll admit, this body is a little on the weaker side, but I can still give Rippen a good fi-”

“Actually, you can’t use violence at all. I’m the one who can fight them. You stop bad guys by...being nice.” Now the hologram was gone.

Penn suddenly understood what Phyllis meant earlier...and he hated it. “I...I can’t fight him?! Seriously??” His face was turning red again, yet it was hard to tell with the orange fur. “So not only does Rippen get away with all the stuff he did to me today, but now I can’t even GET HIM BACK?!”

“No one said you can’t get him back—you just can’t beat him up.” Sashi folded her arms.

“...Can I at least punch him?”

“No. You’ll ruin the hero’s image.”

Penn covered his face with hands, a muffled scream. He then took a deep breath, calming himself. Thankfully for him, this body seemed to have a very calm mindset...that, and really cheerful one. “Okay...okay, I’ll do my best…for the sake of the mission, and because I don’t want to accidentally break something.” He hopped onto the saddle on Sashi’s back.

“Good choice.” Sashi nodded. “Now how do we get out of here?”

“Don’t look at me—what the??” A small bottle fell onto the ground. Upon closer inspection, it looked like a container for bubble blowing, but it read ‘Orbble juice’, with instructions on the back. Penn shrugged and pulled the wand out, blowing as a large air-tight bubble formed around them, lifting them off the ground. “Now we’re talking!” He yelled out into the bubble, cheerfully. “HEIGH-HO, SYLVIA!”

Sashi and Boone both looked at him.

Penn blinked, not sure what came over him. “S-Sashi...I meant Sashi. Oh, that was weird.”

Thankfully, it was quickly forgotten by the trio, heading on their way to their next destination…

—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-————————

2 - A Hero’s Image

Rippen looked at himself in the mirror. In all his years as a Part-Time Villain, he had only been a skeleton once. And even then, it was only for a couple minutes. The complete lack of skin made him feel...exposed. But at the same time, the bone seemed hard as nails, so there was that.

His thoughts were quickly interrupted, however, by the rambles of his cheerful minion—who was in the body of a Commander with the exact opposite personality. But that didn’t affect Larry in the slightest. “Isn’t this eyeball head weird? I mean I’m talking, but there’s no mouth! How crazy is that?” He laughed. “How do people even know when I’m speaking?”

Rippen rolled his eyes. “Your pupil moves, Larry.”

Larry looked in the mirror, expressing a smile as much as a watchdog could to the best of their abilities. “Heh, it’s kinda funny how it bounces like that.”

“Can we get on with it, then?” He was having an exceptionally good day...as far as Rippen’s standards go. And he didn’t want this good mood to go to waste.

“Right, right...sorry.” He laughed softly, pressing the side of his glasses, which were now yellow and only one square instead of two. “Okay, you are the evil Lord Hater and I am your Second in Command. Our Mission is to conquer another poor innocent planet before Penn stops you with-” Larry paused, unsure he was reading this right.

“With what? Come on, spit it out.” Rippen pestered.

“Um...friendship.”

Rippen blinked, a bit stunned by what Larry just said. “Maybe it's the lack of ears that makes it hard for me to hear you, but did you say…‘Friendship’?”

“Yep. He’s supposed to be nice to you.” Larry nodded.

Rippen was silent for a moment, then he burst out laughing. “Penn Zero’s forced to be nice to me!” He laughed again. “If we’re lucky, he’ll break under the pressure, completely ruining the hero’s image! And then I can finally become a Full-Time Villain!” When he laughed a third time, however, green lighting shot from his fingertips as he made a ‘rock n roll’ gesture with both of his hands.

Larry narrowly avoided it, but some watchdogs down the hall weren’t so lucky; loud yelps followed by groaning were heard after getting zapped.

“Wait..what just happened?” Rippen looked at the gesture he was making, a bit confused.

“Oh yeah, you got cool lightning powers! I forgot to tell you that…” Larry attempted a smile again.

For once in his life, Rippen was filled with the absolute confidence that this time...this time, he could not only win...but finally annihilate Penn Zero. He laughed one more time, green lighting sparking around him. “This is it, Larry! Victory is finally at hand!”

Friendship...of all the things. He had been nice to Rippen before, sure, but that was often out of pity...or on rare occasions, when he genuinely felt sorry for him. But this was the first time he was forced to do it. And that fact made him upset. Heck, even the phrase ‘Kill em with Kindness’ was starting to sound not understandable anymore. He glanced at Sashi. “Soooo, this whole ‘friendship’ thing…”

Sashi’s eyes met his, despite being focused on the destination.

“Is he like...allergic to it or something? Is he gonna melt if I hug him??”

“No. You’re just being nice to him...for the 100th time.” She mumbled under her breath.

“I know, I know...it’s just...what’s the point of being nice to your enemy if they’re just gonna continue to do you harm? How is this furball even still alive after constantly clashing with this guy?”

It Never hurts to Help. A little voice said in the back of his mind.

Penn blinked. “Boone, did you say something?” He glanced up.

“Uhh no?”

He scratched his head, thinking. If he was really gonna do this, he was gonna do it right. But how?

As if on cue, Boone jumped up, a Banjo seemingly appearing out of nowhere, landing in Penn’s hands. He stared at it. ��Uhhh Boone...where did this come from?” He looked up.

Boone just gasped in response. “I AM magic!!” He said triumphantly.

Penn rolled his eyes, holding the banjo awkwardly. When it came to music, Penn considered himself more of a singer than anything else. But Instruments were not his strong suit...still, this Banjo didn’t look unimportant. He held it the right way, his fingers dancing along the frets. And then, as if on command…he started playing. It wasn’t a specific song or anything too complex, just a simple melody that made his friends smile as he continued. It was so strange...he had never played the banjo before, and here he was; playing it like he’d had years of practice. He was so lost in song, that he didn’t realize he was moving around while he did so. Luckily, they had found their destination before Rippen did, so Sashi was able to land on the ground, giving Penn freedom to do...whatever he was doing.

Sashi was amused by this. She had seen Penn dance before, but this was nothing like how he normally did it. This kind of dancing was silly, almost...cartoonish. What was even funnier was that not only did he dance in tune to the music, but he sang along to it as well. Well...more like sing-talking gibberish. Regardless, he seemed really into it. In fact, he got faster with each ‘verse’. It got to a point where he was strumming so fast, one would think the banjo was going to catch fire.

Penn’s chest went up and down as he breathed heavily, stopping finally. The sound of Sashi clapping caught his attention and he immediately realized what was going on. “O-Oh...yeah I didn’t mean to do any of that….” He blushed.

“It was cute.” Sashi commented. “But, you know, like in a funny kind of way.”

“Yeah, But not so good for me…” Boone managed, feeling a bit dizzy from Penn’s rapid dancing and spinning.

Penn cringed. “Ohh oh no. Do you need a minute? Do hats even get sick??” He thought about it for a second. Unfortunately, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud THUD.

All three turned to see a giant Skull Ship land on the planet’s surface. It opened its mouth, a large tongue landing down as watchdogs began to march in formation, chanting ‘Hate’s Great, Best Villain!’ as they did.

Penn watched, standing proudly as he held the banjo close. “Alright…” He took a deep breath. “Time to go to work.”

—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-————————

3 - Never Hurts to Help

It didn’t take long for Rippen to get the Watchdogs out, the inhabitants of the planet already running away in fear. The Do-Gooders were behind a rather large rock. Not the best hiding spot, but a good temporary one.

“Okay, Sash. That’s your cue.”

Sashi cracked her knuckles, but glanced at her friends before she ran off. “I know you can do this, PZ.” Then she was gone—charging into a group of Watchdogs.

Penn watched, taking a deep breath.

“So what are you gonna do?” Boone asked.

Penn hesitated. “Honestly, I have no idea.” He remembered what Sashi had said earlier...No one said you couldn’t get back at Rippen—you just can’t beat him up. Penn remembered how annoying Rippen was earlier...and for some reason, the mindset of this body seemed to know exactly how to annoy him back. A smirk appeared on his face as he ran to find his enemy.

Rippen was having the time of his life, blasting back at forth. What felt even better was that the creatures feared him the closer he got. He didn’t even care Sashi was punching the Watchdogs left and right—as long as he got his reward, he didn’t care what else went wrong.

“Havin’ fun, Rippen?”

And there it was.

Rippen turned to face the orange ball of fur, a cackle at how tall he was compared to the do-gooder. “Well, Well, Well! If it isn’t Penn Zero!” He raised his hands, pointing them at him as green lighting charged between his fingers—the soft glow illuminating on everyone close enough to see. “I know all about this little requirement of your’s to not hurt me-! So now I only have one thing to say to you—!”

Penn’s heart pounded in his chest. Best case scenario, the plan worked. Worst case scenario, Rippen blasts him into the next dimension.

“—Are you ready to meet your demise?”

Penn cleared his throat, standing casually. “Actually, Rippen ol’ Buddy, I’ve got a question for you.” He sounded so calm despite the fear inside of him.

Rippen raised part of his brow, staring down at his enemy. This day had been going so well for him. And if he destroyed him without hearing the question at all, it would haunt him forever. Rippen shrugged, not letting his guard down. “You know what? Ask away!”

Penn breathed a small sigh of relief, taking a step back. “Well I was just thinking...you must be hungry after this...invasion thing.”

Though he didn’t want to admit it, Rippen was starving. He didn’t understand why, but this body had the need to consume every junk food imaginable. And everything it craved, Rippen had never touched in his life. He made a slightly annoyed face at Penn. “Why would it matter to you?”

“Oh no reason…” He pulled out two sandwiches from behind his back. “Just that...uh..got some sandwiches here. Hate for them to go to waste…” He mocked, waving the scent around Rippen’s nonexistent nose. “Truly...truly a shame.”

Rippen’s stomach made probably one of the loudest sounds a stomach was capable of making—strange, considering Skeletons didn’t even have stomachs. He tried to keep his eyes off the two sandwiches, but it was impossible. “Ugh! Just give them to me—!” He tried to reach, but Penn jumped back.

“What’s that? You do want these?” He grinned. “Well, would you prefer—” He threw the first sandwich at Rippen’s face. “Mustard-?” He jumped over Rippen, throwing the other sandwich on his face when he turned around. “-or Mayo?!” He laughed, landing on his feet.

Rippen angrily wiped the sandwiches from his face, staring at Penn with a piercing glare.

Instead of a rude gesture, Penn stuck out his tongue in a playful manner, his legs speeding up. “Come and get me!” And he was gone.

Rippen didn’t know why, but every voice in the back of his head screamed ‘GET HIM!’ no matter what. And that’s exactly what he did. He ran, screaming at the top of his...lungs? Whatever skeletons have.

Penn pulled out the banjo as he ran, turning around as he was now jogging backwards. “How about a little chase music?” He smiled, strumming rather fast. The music seemed to be annoying Rippen even more, which meant it was working.

Meanwhile, Sashi had already beaten up all the Watchdogs while Rippen was distracted. Larry was too busy watching Rippen chase Penn around to notice. Something about it made him want to sigh. He was...disappointed in Rippen?? He shivered, hoping he’d never get that feeling again.

At this point, Rippen was exhausted. He clawed at the ground, now laying on his stomach. Penn, however, didn’t feel tired at all. He felt as though he could run a marathon in seconds. Eventually, he stopped running and walked right over to Rippen, bending down so they were at eye level once more. He put his hands behind his back, a smug look on his face.

“You uh..you doing okay?” He raised a brow.

Rippen wheezed, trying to stand. “W...Watchdogs! Get him—!” It wasn’t until he yelled that when he realized they were all defeated, Sashi standing there triumphantly. “NOOO! I WAS SO CLOSE!!” He wheezed again, his face lightly hitting the ground.

Penn felt a little bad for him. He wasn’t sure why the feeling was so sudden, but he didn’t question it. “Look, you seem pretty exhausted, so I’ll just leave this here for you.” He placed one of the mustard sandwiches and a bottle of a soda labeled ‘Thunder Blazz’ in bright yellow bubble letters on the side.

Rippen stared at the food, standing up as he wolfed down the sandwich. He glared at Penn, pointing at him. “This doesn’t make us friends!” He spoke between bites.

Penn made a face. “I uh...I never said that.”

Rippen blinked, shaking his head. “Oh never mind!” He grabbed the soda and angrily trudged back to the skull ship, Larry patting him on the back as they headed inside.

The inhabitants cheered once the skull ship took off, Sashi running to greet her friends. “You did it, Penn!”

“Yeah!” Boone chimed in. “I’m not exactly sure what you did...but you did it!”

Penn’s eyes watched the skull ship fade from view. Why did Rippen retreat? And why did he think he was trying to be his friend? Even with all these questions, Penn still couldn’t help but feel good about himself…

With another blue flash, the trio was pulled back to the movie theater, landing safety back onto their original spots. Penn looked at himself, no longer feeling uncomfortable, but a bit disappointed the cheerful feeling was gone. “That was probably one of the strangest missions ever...but in a good way.” He managed.

“Yeah, wonder what was up with Rippen after we won…” Sashi added, hand on her chin.

“Sometimes,” Phyills started, coming back down from the balcony. “Enemy is just a friend you haven’t made yet.” She looked at Penn. “Remember that, Penn Zero.”

Penn put his hands in his pockets, a smile. “I will.”

—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-—————————-————————

4 - Epilogue

Later that evening, the space duo set up camp for the night. Sylvia was still trying to process exactly what happened earlier. Her fists were sore from punching Watchdogs, when she hadn’t even done that today? Or had she??

Wander, on the other hand, seemed to be in a particularly good mood. Normally, that wasn’t a surprise in Wander’s case, but it definitely was after the events of today.

“I swear,” Sylvia put some wood on the fire, the flames grasping onto it. “My head’s buzzing like a swarm of bees. The whole thing was so weird…” She sat down next to her friend, who was casually resting, playing a happy tune on his banjo. “How are you keeping it all together, buddy? Doesn’t your head hurt?” She asked, concerningly.

The Nomad looked up at her, smiling. “Because I helped someone.”

Sylvia blinked. “So...you remember what happened today?”

“Nope.” He cheerfully responded.

“...then..how do you know if you helped someone or not??”

“Just a hunch.”

Sylvia rolled her eyes, playfully, rustling his fur. “Okay, buddy…”

Deep within the stars, they saw the skull ship pass by, the voice of Lord Hater screaming into the night sky…

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY ATE ONE OF WANDER’S STUPID SANDWICHES!!”

Wander chuckled, yawning as he got into his normal sleeping spot. “Yep, not a bad day…”

Sylvia still couldn’t remember what happened, but regardless of that, she was happy Wander still got to help out someone. And in the end, that was all that matters...

END

#penn zero part time hero #wander over yonder #crossover fanfiction #fanfic #pzpth #save woy #woy watchdogs

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hoeforhops · 4 years

Text

Us Fragile Things ― September, part two.

in which Valerie Martin and Billy Hargrove find each other for the first time in four years in a dive bar and realize the difference those four years can make.

an explicit Billy Hargrove x OFC fic. rating: explicit, 18+ word count: 9.9k cross posted to AO3. warnings: alcohol/tobacco use, strong language, dirty talk, unprotected sex, oral sex (female rec), fingering, vaginal sex.

SEPTEMBER 12th, 1989

The note Billy had left spent nearly two weeks in the drawer of Valerie’s nightstand, other than the few times she’d pulled it out to stare at it in the effort of working up the nerve to actually call him. She had his number memorized by the second time she pulled it out, and the brevity of the note itself was burned into her mind.

It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427. It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427. It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427. It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427. It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427. It was good to see you. Call me. 923-0427.

She found herself repeating the note at random, hearing it in his voice like it was damn near haunting her.

Valerie told herself she was trying to focus on getting back into the routine of classes. On top of her usual coursework, she’d started her classroom observations, sitting in on classes at the local high school twice a week. She’d also taken up working a few shifts a week at the reception desk in the education department, trying to stash away whatever money she could. There was little time in her schedule for boys, she had decided.

That had never been her rule before, but Billy Hargrove had never been part of the equation. But that didn’t stop her from thinking about him.

He kept creeping into her thoughts, far more than usual. And not just her thoughts, but her fantasies. Valerie had realized a couple of days after seeing him that it had become impossible to get herself off without recalling the memory of his fingers pumping into her, the way he’d praised her, and the weight of his body hovering over hers. He had made sure she couldn’t forget about him for the first several days, considering he’d left a slew of hickeys and marks along her chest.

It was a Tuesday evening and she’d just finished doing 60 pages worth of reading for one course, feeling like her brain was about to melt out of her ears. Charlotte was out with Amy, and when Valerie’s eyes landed on the phone across the room, Billy’s number started repeating itself in her mind.

923-0427. 923-0427. 923-0427. 923-0427. 923-0427.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she got to her feet and approached the phone. She picked it up and dialed his number quickly, proud of herself for even doing that much. With a white knuckle grip, she lifted the phone to her ear as it rang.

And it rang, and rang, and rang.

She hung up after letting it ring plenty of times, realizing he must not have an answering machine.

At least she’d tried.

SEPTEMBER 13th, 1989

Valerie had hoped that calling him once, even if she didn’t get an answer, would get it all out of her system, but it seemed to only make it worse.

Charlotte had been bugging her to call him since the minute she’d heard they slept together, adn Valerie had made the mistake of letting it slip that she finally had, which only lead to Charlotte telling her to try it again.

So she did.

It only rang a few times before Valerie heard a soft click, her heart jumping in that beat of silence.

“Hello?” A female voice. Max?

“Hi, uh, is Billy around?” she asked, clearing her throat and trying her best to relax.

“No, he’s at work.”

“Oh, okay.” A pause. “I’ll just call back.” Would she though?

“Is this Valerie?” she asked, and Valerie froze.

“Yeah,” Valerie responded with a slight laugh, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Max, right?”

“Mhm. Billy said he ran into you,” Max told her. “I’ll probably take you up on the offer for some help with English comp.”

Valerie smiled to herself, glad that he’d mentioned that to Max. “Yeah, I’d be happy to help, just let me know.”

“Do you want me to let Billy know you called?”

“No, uh, don’t worry about it. I’ll just call back and try to catch him.”

“I think he’s off tomorrow night, maybe try then,” Max suggested, and Valerie nodded even though the girl on the phone couldn’t see her.

They said their goodbyes and she all but slammed the phone down, looking up to realize Charlotte was watching her with a wide grin.

“No luck this time either?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

Valerie rolled her eyes, moving across the living room to drop onto the sofa. “I’m glad you think this is funny, at least,” she said, giving her roommate a pointed look.

Charlotte shrugged. “I guess I’m just not used to seeing you act like this over a boy,” she teased, still grinning either way.

Groaning, she sank further into the sofa and looked up at the ceiling. “I know, I’m not either, and I don’t like it,” she grumbled, pulling one of the throw pillows into her lap. “I feel like I’m back in high school, vying for the attention of ‘King Billy.’” She made a face as she spoke, scrunching up her nose.

“Yeah, but you’re not. You’re a cool, hot grown up who can buy your own alcohol,” Charlotte assured her, joining her on the sofa. “And from what you told me, he doesn’t sound like he’s the same person he was in high school either, so if you like him, or at least like his dick, it’s probably worth trying to call again.”

Valerie nodded, sucking on her teeth as she picked a piece of fuzz off the pillow in her lap. Charlotte was usually right about these kinds of things, something Valerie had learned in the last several years of living together.

SEPTEMBER 15th, 1989

Valerie didn’t call the next day, Thursday, like Max had suggested. She certainly hadn’t forgotten, but buried herself under a mountain of homework and reading to distract herself. His number had repeated itself in her mind for most of the evening, leaving her to steal glances at the phone from her spot at the table where her books and papers were spread out in front of her.

It was Friday though. Two weeks since the night at the bar whose name Valerie had never figured out. Charlotte was at Amy’s for the night, leaving Valerie to entertain herself. The thought of going back to that bar had crossed her mind, but she told herself she was content to get a chunk her weekend assignments out of the way.

By the time it was dark, she’d given up on reading for the night. With a glass of wine in her hand and the TV on, her eyes had started to drift toward the phone.

He probably wasn’t even home. It was a Friday night, after all. He was probably out drinking like he had been two weeks ago. Those thoughts were what actually made it easier for her to get off the couch and cross the room to the phone. Even if he wasn’t home, she could tell Charlotte that she had tried. She dialed quickly before she could stop herself.

923-0427.

The phone rang three times before the soft click of the line being picked up made Valerie jump, having felt so sure that no one would answer.

“Hello?” There was no mistaking that voice.

“H-hey. It’s Valerie,” she said, already chewing on the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t believe all it took was a single word from him to make her palms sweat and her heart race.

“Well, Val, it’s about damn time,” he told her, scoffing softly.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve been busy trying to get into the routine of classes and stuff,” she told him, hoping to laugh it off.

“Uh huh,” he hummed, tone laced with disbelief. Valerie blinked, pausing for a moment. “You know, until Max told me you called the other day, I thought you’d forgotten all about me.” She could practically hear him smirking, knowing from the sound of his voice that he was already toying with her. Valerie suddenly wished she’d had more wine before calling him.

“Maybe I had,” she said, trying her best to sound cool.

Billy actually laughed. “I’m surprised you’re calling on a Friday night. Figured you’d be out prowling for another idiot you went to high school with to take home and rock their world before forgetting about them.”

Snorting softly, Valerie twirled the cord of the phone around her index finger. “It’s early, I’ve still got time,” she said, grinning to herself.

“C’mon now, don’t break my heart like that,” he told her with that charming inflection of his that made her willing to do cartwheels.

She paused, pressing her lips together. “Did I really ‘rock your world’? The sex was that good?” she questioned, curiosity getting the better of her. It had only been a few minutes of conversation, and he already had her wondering if it was all a game. God, she hated feeling like a giddy teenager, but at least he wasn’t there to watch her squirm over it.

“What, you didn’t think it was?” Billy responded, sounding mildly surprised by her question.

Valerie exhaled a breath of laughter, picking up the phone and bringing it with her to sit in the nearby arm chair. “I never said that. King Billy’s the one with the long list of five star reviews, just wasn’t sure where I’d rank amongst them,” she said, kicking her feet up on the coffee table to settle in more.

“Baby girl, you’ve got no fuckin’ clue how crazy you made me,” he said, tone low and dark to the point that Valerie held her breath.

She was silent for a moment, his words echoing in her mind before she cleared her throat. “What about you, huh? Why are you home on a Friday night to answer the phone?” she asked, toying with the phone cord again.

“I worked early this morning. I planned on having a quiet night at home until you called.” He sighed softly, teasingly like she’d ruined his whole evening.

“And I changed that?” Valerie was grinning to herself by then.

“Maybe.” His voice was warm and she could picture his smile, that genuine one that felt like a reward to see. “When can I see you again?”

The question surprised her for some reason and she blinked. “You busy tomorrow?” she asked, practically holding her breath as she waited for him to answer.

“Yeah, I’ve got an late shift tomorrow. I’m free Sunday night though.”

“Uhh, yeah, Sunday’s good for me,” she responded, clearing her throat as a fresh wave of nervousness swept over her.

“You wanna come to my place? Max will be out, we can watch a movie or something.” For a short second, he sounded unsure of the proposed plan. The thought of being alone with him made her mind flash back to the desperate sound of their breathing, the intoxicating feeling of his body pressing against hers, and her palms were sweating again.

“That sounds good,” Valerie said, licking her lips as she sunk into her chair a little more. “What time?”

“My shift goes until 5:30, so 7:00 maybe? I’ll make dinner for us.” Now that surprised her, making her eyebrows raise.

“I never really pictured Billy Hargrove as the culinary type,” she admitted, toying with the ends of her hair idly as she grinned.

“You can add that to the list of what’s ‘different’ about me now, I guess,” he said, and Valerie could hear his lighter click a second later.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Valerie licked her lips, picturing him in his apartment. She wondered what his place looked like, where he was right now, what he was doing. It all seemed like such a mystery. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” Valerie rolled her eyes, letting out a quiet huff of breath that he must’ve heard. “Shoot.” The word was laced with a smirk again, she could just tell. She could hear him inhale, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Did you mean what you said when I was going down on you, about how you used to watch me in chem?” Her mind had drifted back to that statement of his so many times over the last couple of weeks.

Billy was silent for a moment before exhaling a soft laugh. “Yeah,” he told her, and she wished she could see him for that reaction. “That damn oral fixation of yours was so fucking distracting.”

Valerie’s eyebrows knit together, about to argue that she didn’t have an oral fixation until she realized that she had started chewing on her thumbnail after asking her last question. “Didn’t stop you from passing the class though,” she said, again trying to put on that cool tone that matched his despite the fact that her cheeks were flushing.

“That’s true, but let me tell you, I took some community college courses when I was living in California, including chemistry, and just hearing the word ‘stoichiometry’ was enough to get me hard. Fucking Pavlovian, or some shit,” he said, and Valerie grinned even as she felt the flush make it’s way down her neck.

“You should’ve said something, y’know,” she said after a pause, despite knowing full and well that she never would’ve believed him back then if he’d expressed interest in her. She likely would have laughed in his face in all honesty, the thought of it too absurd to even entertain.

“I would’ve ruined your fuckin’ life, V.” Billy chuckled, and she laughed with him because she knew he was absolutely right. She imagined him grinning, the one he used right as he trapped his prey, knowing when he had her caught. “Be grateful that you’re getting this version of me.”

“Who says I’m not?” she countered, leaning forward in her seat. Valerie was glad she’d thought ahead enough to bring the whole bottle of wine into the living room with her earlier, pouring another glass. A pause followed, and because the silence made her nervous, her mind circled back to another thought curiously. “Why’d you stop?”

“Stop what?”

“Stop taking classes.”

“Oh,” he said softly, like he hadn’t expected such a question out of her. “D’you really wanna know?”

“I don’t ask questions I don’t want to know the answers to,” she told him, bringing the glass up to her mouth to take a drink.

Billy sighed softly. Hesitation seemed to hang between them, and Valerie honestly wasn’t sure what he’d say next. “It’s a long story, angel, I’ll tell you sometime, okay? Promise.” He sounded sincere in the avoidance, and Valerie bit her lip as she pocketed her curiosity.

“Okay,” she responded, nodding once to herself before swallowing the last bit of her wine. He was quiet for a beat and again, she was picturing him, wondering what his expression said.

“You wanna know something?” he asked, in that tone that left her hanging on his every word as he changed the subject.

“Shoot,” she responded, just as he head earlier.

“I regret not going down on you when I had the chance.” Billy said it all so casually, fitting it into the conversation with ease and Valerie couldn’t help the burst of laughter at the bluntness of his statement. Her cheeks felt hot and she told herself that it was from the wine.

“Is that at the top of your to do list for Sunday?” she asked, holding the phone with her shoulder as she leaned forward to put her empty glass on the coffee table.

“Oh, absolutely,” he hummed in response, making her suck in a breath through her teeth. “Might not even be able to wait until after dinner. I’ve barely been able to keep my mind off it. I didn’t pay nearly enough attention to your tits either.”

The thought made her feel warm all over, her blush returning with vengeance as she licked her lips. “Have you been thinking about me a lot?” she asked, settling back in her seat again as she put her feet up on the edge of the coffee table.

“Way too much, honestly. I haven’t been able to get those sweet sounds of yours out of my head, it’s been driving me fucking insane,” he admitted with a slight groan to the words as Valerie grinned to herself. “I didn’t expect you to be so bratty.”

“Want me to turn it down a notch next time?” Her voice carried a teasing tone to it, and she realized that she was pressing her thighs together as she anticipated his response.

The chuckle Billy let out rattled through her, renewing the heat that had flooded through her earlier. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Val,” he said with a hint of that deep chuckle and Valerie could’ve actually screamed. “You been thinking about me, huh? Slipping your hand into your panties late at night, playing with yourself while you think about how good I made you feel?”

“Christ, Billy,” Valerie muttered as if it wasn’t truth, feigning innocence. His scoff said he saw right through it. “Maybe I have been, so what?” There was no point in denying it, she decided.

A silence hung between them for a moment.

“Do we really need to wait until Sunday? I can be at your place in 10 minutes,” Billy said.

Now that was tempting. Valerie thought about it, biting her lip. It would be so easy to let him come over and rock her world again, to let him leave her absolutely desperate for more of him, but her nerves got the better of her. She let out a sigh and shook her head.

“Not tonight,” she told him, as if she wasn’t already ridiculously turned on.

“I had to at least try,” he said, tsking softly. “I’ve waited two weeks, I can wait another two days.” Valerie grinned, unable to stop herself considering he was just as fucking charming as he’d always been.

“It was a good effort,” she assured him, and they laughed together. She already regretted turning down the offer.

They chatted for a while longer, until Max got home and Billy said he needed to go. She got directions to his place before they said their goodbyes, and after hanging up the receiver, Valerie pushed a hand through her hair. Leaning back in her seat again, she scoffed to herself in disbelief that that conversation had happened. She was still flushed and slick between her thighs as she started to chew on her thumbnail.

Billy Hargrove still might ruin her life.

SEPTEMBER 17th, 1989

Valerie somehow made it to Sunday evening, though it hadn’t been easy. She’d spent a good chunk of her Saturday at the library on campus, but hadn’t been at all productive considering the fact that Billy was plaguing her thoughts. She could barely focus, her shoulders tense with anticipation as the minutes passed slowly.

She slept in on Sunday and finished up her readings before getting ready to go to Billy’s. The shower she took was long and relaxing, and she used the fancy body wash her aunt had sent for her birthday several months ago. Waiting for her hair to dry, Valerie put on some make up, then pulled on pretty underwear under the knee length skirt and v-neck sweater that she’d laid out.

It was a little after 7:00 when Valerie parked on the street outside what she hoped was Billy’s place. The street number matched at least, and she headed up the walkway toward the grey duplex with a bottle of wine in hand. Nervousness twisted in her stomach as she stepped onto the porch and knocked on the door to the left like he’d told her.

She didn’t have to wait long for him to open the door with that signature grin that made her knees weak. He invited her in, his eyes dropping quickly to glance her over before motioning for her to follow him.

Valerie hadn’t been sure to expect out of Billy’s place, and she looked around curiously as she followed him to the kitchen. She caught a glimpse of floral wall paper in the living room and smiled, before her attention focused more on him.

“Dinner should be ready in a few,” he told her, taking the bottle of wine from her. He was in a tight shirt and tighter jeans, nothing out of the usual, really, but it still astounded her that he always managed to look that good.

“What are we having?” she asked, leaning back against the edge of the counter as he sifted through a drawer before pulling out a corkscrew.

“Chicken with zucchini and risotto,” he said as Valerie enjoyed the way his shoulders moved when he opened the bottle of wine. She was impressed, both with the menu and how easily he pulled the cork out. “I don’t have wine glasses yet, so we’re stuck with regular cups.”

“That’s fine,” she assured him with a soft laugh, watching as he pulled a pair of cups from the cabinet. She thanked him softly when he handed her one of them a second later, her eyes meeting his as he poured wine for her.

“It’s good to see you,” Billy said, taking a sip from his own glass. His eyes were on her and Valerie could feel her cheeks flush as a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s good to see you too,” she responded, batting her lashes before tilting her glass back for a drink.

It was odd to see this sincere part of Billy, both in tone and action, and pair it with the way he was looking at her, even having the audacity to lick his lips. Her free hand came back to grip the edge of the counter as silence hung around them. A timer went off, the abrupt sound cutting through the building tension, and Valerie was almost grateful for it, considering it curbed her urge to absolutely pounce on him.

Dinner was great, leaving her absolutely stunned by how good the food was. They chatted as they ate, easily finishing off the bottle of wine between the two of them. Talking to him was easy, Valerie realized, and they stayed seated at the small table with empty plates in front of them for a while before they rose to clean up.

Valerie was a little tipsy as she dried the dishes as he washed, and he kept glancing at her. She nudged him with her elbow eventually, passing it off as an accident as she reached to put the last of the plates in the cabinet. The dish towel she’d been using had barely left her hand before he had one hand on her waist, the other on her jaw to guide her mouth to his.

The kiss surprised her, leaving her to gasp softly into his mouth before relaxing against him. She was on fire immediately, kissing him back as he pressed her back into the edge of the counter. Billy was taking his time and his hand dropped to her hip as he hummed.

She looped an arm around his neck and let her teeth tug at his bottom lip, practically daring him to take things further. The way he’d watched her through dinner as he listened to her speak had been enough to turn her on somehow, and she was ready for her patience to be rewarded. His tongue flicked against hers teasingly, making her arch toward him just as his mouth left hers.

“D’you still wanna watch a movie?” he asked, a little breathless as his forehead rested on hers.

“Are you serious?” Valerie responded, laughing when she saw his smirk.

“Just wasn’t sure how attached you were to the idea.” Billy’s words were punctuated with a brief kiss, his hand moving to squeeze her ass. She moaned into his mouth and gripped the fabric of his shirt in her hand as she tried to press herself closer against him.

“I’m far more attached to the idea of you eating me out,” she admitted, the frankness of her words making his eyebrows raise slightly. She wasn’t sure if she’d surprised or impressed him, but she liked the reaction either way. His smirk returned almost immediately, nodding once before kissing her again.

The kiss was hungry, and it felt like his hands were everywhere, squeezing her hips and her ass as she pressed toward him. She used the hand twisted in the fabric of his shirt as a way to keep him close as he sucked at her bottom lip.

“Where’s your room?” she asked, her mouth barely leaving his. He hummed in response, both of his hands cupping her face briefly before finally pulling back. Valerie had expected him to step away from her and pull her through the apartment, but instead, he sank to his knees in front of her. “Jesus, Billy!” Her words were laced with laughter as his hands slid up the outside of her thighs, then higher still until they were under her skirt.

“What?” he questioned with a filthy smirk and a raised eyebrow as he nudged her thighs open further. “Just be grateful I made it through dinner without slipping under the table to do this.” His eyes were still on her face as he dragged his thumb over her folds through the damp fabric of her panties, watching the way her body reacted to the contact.

That was all it took to have Valerie tugging the material of her skirt higher until it was bunched up around her hips, and his eyes dropped to her newly exposed skin and panties. She heard him groan softly and then he was leaning forward more, his mouth already settling on the inside of her thigh.

“I like these,” Billy murmured, his voice rough as he glanced up at her again. His thumb repeated it’s previous action, pressing just right against her clit to make her squirm as she leaned back into the edge of the cabinet. He was close enough that she could feel the heat of his breath on her thighs, and Valerie’s hands were already shaking.

Impatiently, he pressed an open mouthed kiss to her folds through her panties with a soft moan. His palms slid over the swell of her ass, then higher to start tugging her underwear down easily. As soon she was exposed to him, his mouth was on her, letting his tongue slide through her folds to collect the wetness that was already pooling there.

“Oh my god,” she breathed out, her thighs parting further for him instinctively after kicking her panties away. Her hand came down to the back of his head and her fingers threaded through his curls as his tongue teased at her entrance.

“So fuckin’ good,” he groaned, squeezing her ass and pulling her hips even closer to him. Billy licked a firm stripe from her entrance to her clit before sucking the bundle of nerves into his mouth. She was practically panting by the time he pulled off with a soft pop , then he was exploring her folds with his tongue again, eyes lifting to look at her face.

He really could get used to this view, loving the flush that colored Valerie’s cheeks and the way her hair fell over her shoulder as her head tilted back. She tasted better than he ever could’ve imagined in the times that he’d gotten himself off in the last few weeks, thinking about having her just like this. His hand slid down her thigh slowly, guiding her to settle her leg on his shoulder as her hand tightened in his hair.

Valerie wouldn’t have been able to hold back the wanton moan that left her if she’d even bothered to try, breathing out a curse as he lapped at her folds hungrily. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she rocked toward him lazily, seeking out whatever extra friction she could find. She was so slick, a mix of her own wetness and his saliva, and if it didn’t all feel so good, she might be embarrassed by the constant slew of whines and moans that were leaving her. The sounds of his mouth working against her, sucking at her folds, were absolutely filthy, and when she felt his two fingers tease at her entrance, Valerie nodded with a soft plea, eager for whatever he would give her.

“Yeah?” he hummed into her, letting them sink into her just barely. “You want my fingers in your pussy while I suck your clit?” He barely pulled away to speak, his lips brushing over her before he licked around his fingers teasingly.

“Billy, please,” she breathed, finally tilting her head to glance down at him.

“You gotta say it, sweetheart,” he mused, glancing up at her with a quick smirk before he was opening his mouth against her. As always, heat rose up her neck in response to his dirty talk and she let out an impatient sound when he didn’t immediately give her what she wanted.

“I want you fingers inside me, please, I need more,” she managed to plead, her hips already pressing toward his hand desperately. Valerie’s fingers tightened in his hair enough that he hissed softly, and she saw darkness flash in his eyes when he looked up at her. He must’ve decided that was good enough considering his digits sank deep into her. Her head fell back as she cursed, her body already clenching around him.

Billy fingers fucked into her expertly, just as they had last time, curling against the spot inside her that made her gasp. He was watching her, looking up her body as he sucked her clit into his mouth, enjoying the way she rocked toward him. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as she moaned for him again, and he scissored his fingers inside her to see what other sounds he could get from her. The motion didn’t disappoint, and when he slid his other hand up the outside of her thigh lightly, he could feel that her legs were shaking.

She was slick around him, that fact highlighted by the sound of his fingers pumping into her, her face flushing darker as her head fell back. Valerie couldn’t help but tug at his hair, still wanting him closer, and when he chuckled in response, the sound vibrated through her. She felt hot all over, her sweater clinging to her as her other hand gripped the edge of the countertop for support. Practically chanting his name, her hips rolled against his hand, already feeling the pressure building low in her stomach.

Just when she was towing that line of falling into her orgasm, Billy pulled back, and a frustrated sound left her at the loss of his mouth. When she looked down at him, he was smirking, his thumb already moving to rub firm circles against her clit. His mouth was slick with her wetness, the sight alone making her whine as his fingers continued to fuck into her.

“You gonna cum for me, angel?” he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

“Yeah,” she sighed out, nodding as she continued to rock into his hand. “Wanna cum for you, Billy.” Her voice was weak as she teetered on the edge and he hummed in approval, his mouth settling on her folds again.

Valerie’s nails sank into his scalp as she cried out, her head falling back when the pressure inside her exploded. She rocked desperately against Billy’s hand and his mouth, a slew of curses leaving her as she rested the majority of her weight on the cabinet behind her. Pleasure coursed through her as her body tensed, whining his name as he worked her through it. He watched her the whole time, loving the way her features twisted as she came for him.

When she finally came down, her shoulders sagged and she felt like she could barely keep her head up as her fingers carded through his hair. Still breathing heavily, she managed to open her eyes and glance down at him, her cheeks flushed. If his mouth wasn’t still on her, lapping lazily at her sensitive folds, he would’ve been smirking at her, and another shudder ran through her.

“Mmph, too much,” Valerie whined, feeling over-sensitive after another moment of enjoying the slow motion of his fingers still working into her. He pulled back when she pushed at his head gently, already licking his lips as he pulled his fingers from her.

Billy guided her leg off his shoulder, keeping his hand behind her knee for a moment to make sure she was steady. She watched as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then sucked his fingers clean before getting to his feet again. As soon as he was at her level, her arm looped around his neck to pull him toward her.

Kissing him hungrily, Valerie hummed into his mouth, enjoying the taste of herself on his warm, plush lips. The hem of her skirt dropped to cover her, but her hips were already pressing toward his. She could feel the hard line of his cock straining against the fly of his jeans and she licked into his mouth, enjoying the sound he let out.

“Want me to take you to bed?” he asked, mouth barely leaving hers as his hands slipped under her sweater impatiently. Valerie’s mind was still buzzing as she nodded, glad to feel his hands moving over her skin finally. “D’you think you can walk?” The teasing tone to his voice was obvious as he pulled away, and Valerie rolled her eyes with a grin.

“I’m surprised you don’t want to fuck me right here,” she teased, already tilting her mouth up to kiss him again.

“Trust me, I do,” he responded with a chuckle, his hands sliding down to squeeze her ass through the fabric of her skirt. “Max and I agreed not to have sex in the common areas.”

“Oh, but going down on me here was fine?” she countered, letting out a contented sound as Billy’s mouth moved over her jaw.

“Shh,” he hummed, holding his index finger up to his mouth to earn a laugh out of her as he pulled away. His hand slipped into hers and he nodded toward the hall.

Valerie glanced around curiously as they moved through his place, noticing the stack of textbooks on the coffee table, and the framed photo on an end table of Max with people she thought she recognized from Hawkins. The walk was short thankfully, and when Billy let go of her hand to turn on the lamp next to his bed, she took the chance to look around.

She’d always expected his room to be dark, maybe a little cluttered, with posters of half naked women on the walls, heavy curtains, and an unmade bed. Instead, the room was a pale yellow that glowed warm from the low light of the lamp. There wasn’t much furniture, just a dresser next to the open closet door, the end table that housed the lamp, and his bed, that was in fact made. It was tidier than her own room, Valerie realized as her eyes drifted back to Billy.

He had already sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back with his weight on his hands as he watched her. His legs were spread, and he lifted a hand, motioning for her to come toward him. Valerie grinned as she moved closer to him, acutely aware of how wet she still was as she realized her underwear were still on the kitchen floor. His eyes were glued to her, even as he pulled his shirt off and tossed it in the direction of the hamper across the room.

Valerie did the same, tugging her sweater off as she stood between his parted thighs. His head was tilted back to look up at her, and her hand moved to push his hair back gently, feeling him lean into the touch. She pushed at his shoulder and Billy took the hint, leaning back onto the mattress as she reached around her back to unfasten her bra.

He cursed under his breath, hands already moving to unbutton his jeans so he could push them down his hips as Valerie kicked her skirt away as well. Billy sat up enough to reach for her, all but pulling her down to him as she straddled his hips. She leaned over him with a hand on either side of his head, biting her lip as she rocked herself along the obvious bulge of his cock, his black underwear the only fabric between them. His hand slid up her bare back with a pleased sound, leaning up to kiss her hungrily.

A frantic energy seemed to fall over them then, with Valerie moaning into his mouth when his hand came up to cup her breast. His thumb dragged over the hardened peak of her nipple to make her whine, her back arching into his touch. He moved his other hand from her hip to between her thighs, letting his fingers slide through her folds like he couldn’t help himself. The touch made Valerie keen softly, and just as quickly as he’d touched her, he was lifting his hips to slip his underwear down and free his cock.

He was still leaning up to her slightly when his mouth moved to her throat, settling on her pulse point as she felt his dick throb against her thigh. Valerie felt like she was burning, unable to get enough air in her lungs as she rocked toward him with a heady sound. He was still teasing at her nipple, twisting and tugging at it lightly between his thumb and forefinger to make a visible shiver run through her.

“C’mon, V,” he murmured as she forced herself to sit up more, her hands pressing against his chest. “Ride my cock, angel, wanna feel you around me again.” And how on earth was she supposed to say no to a request like that?

She shifted over him again slightly, one hand slipping between them to guide him to her entrance, and she noticed the way his eyes dropped as well to watch as she sank down onto his length. They groaned in unison as Billy’s head dropped back onto the mattress, his hands settling on her hips where he couldn’t resist squeezing her supple flesh. Valerie was trembling slightly by the time he was fully sheathed inside her, her hips flush against his as she took a few deep breaths. His hands didn’t stay where they were for long, with one of them sliding back up to her breast when she slowly let her hips grind down toward his.

The sight of Billy Hargove sprawled out beneath her like that was something she knew she wouldn’t forget any time soon. His curles were already a mess from how rough she’d been with it when he was on his knees earlier, and his pupils were blown as he stared up at her. Valerie could practically see the restraint buzzing through him as her hips rose from his slightly before rocking down again. The motion earned a moan out of him, and the hand that had been on her hip moved to squeeze her ass.

Still sensitive from her earlier orgasm, each movement of her hips had Valerie sucking in short breaths and gasps as she settled into an easy rhythm of riding him. He felt bigger at his angle, and her nails scratched along his chest lightly as her jaw clenched.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Billy breathed appreciatively, his eyes dropping again to watch his dick sink into her. He was toying with her nipple still, palming at her breast with sounds of appreciation as he rocked up just slightly to meet the rock of her hips. “You look so fucking sexy like this, Val, holy shit.”

Panting, Valerie grinned and tried to focus more on keeping a steady rhythm versus speaking, unsure if she could ever string a sentence together by then. Eager to hear more praise from him, she started rocking down harder against his lap, enough that he groaned loudly for her. The slide was easy, given how soaked she was, and with each motion, his cock slid over her g-spot in a way that had her whimpering.

In need of more contact, Valerie leaned over him again, and Billy’s hand was quick to move from her breast to her jaw so he could guide her mouth to his. He licked into her mouth hungrily, still holding her jaw to keep her where he wanted her. The inside of her thighs were burning already, and her pussy tightened around him as she continued to ride him. She could feel Billy rolling his hips up into hers, and the way her clit pressed against his pelvis had her whimpering.

He swore loudly, and Valerie felt his arm wrap around around her waist tightly before he turned her onto her back. She was grateful for the change of position honestly, knowing that her rhythm had already grown sloppy as she got closer. His cock slipped out of her, and she made an annoyed whine. Billy chuckled softly with his knees planted between her thighs as he leaned over her. He was supporting himself with one hand on the mattress, the other between their bodies to just barely guide the head of his cock into her.

When he didn’t sink into her again, instead pulling back to slide through her folds, Valerie sucked in a breath through her teeth. Billy met her eye and he was smirking, loving the way her hips rocked in an attempt to guide him back inside her.

“You want it so bad, don’t you, sweetheart?” he mused, making her huff out a heavy breath.

The way she said his name was somewhere between a threat and a plea, her arm looping around his neck to pull him down to her. He was smirking when his mouth found his and didn’t bother teasing her further considering he was just as desperate for her as she seemed to be for him.

Billy pushed into her in one easy motion, dragging a high sound from her. His hand found the crook of her knee, guiding her leg over his hip as his hips snapped forward into hers. The firm thrust took her by surprise, making her groan as he built a rough pace.

Valerie’s hand slid along his back, her nails scratching over his skin as she tried to arch up toward him more. They were both breathing heavily and moaning as their mouths brushed together, lacking much finesse as they chased their highs. Billy’s mouth moved down her throat, nipping and sucking as he went, and the feeling of his teeth in her pulse point had Valerie moaning desperately beneath him.

“More, Billy,” she breathed, her nails sinking into his shoulder as his tongue traced her collarbone. He hummed in acknowledgement, his hips pounding into hers at just enough of a different angle that it made her body jolt up towards him. The head of his cock was hitting her g-spot with each thrust, making short gasps leave her as her eyes squeezed shut.

He was murmuring to her, filthy things that she could barely hear over the sounds of her breathing and her heartbeat racing in her ears. It spurred her on either way, digging her heel into his ass for leverage to try and get him deeper still. She could feel herself tightening around him as pressure built up inside her again, leaving her practically clinging to him.

“Think you can cum for me again, V?” he said, his tone gravelly and suggesting he already knew the answer. As she nodded frantically, trying to push her hips toward him for whatever friction she could find, he sucked her nipple into his mouth with a groan.

His hand had slipped between their bodies to find her clit with ease, rubbing firm circles against the swollen bundle of nerves as his thrusts got a little sloppy. She was absolutely drenched, and hot against his hand, and he cursed, leaning up to kiss her hungrily.

Valerie welcomed the kiss, though it was all teeth and moans as her arm tightened around his neck more to keep him there. With the way he was pounding into her, still toying with her clit, it was easy for her to fall over the edge, and she did so with a loud groan of his name.

Her head fell back against the mattress as her hips rocked without much direction, just needing whatever she could get from him as her orgasm tore through her. Billy’s mouth had settled on her throat again, his breath hot on her already flush skin as she came around his dick, She didn’t doubt that he’d have raised scratches along his back and shoulder from her nails, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about that right now.

Over the roaring of her ears, Valerie heard him curse loudly, and she made a sound of protest when he pulled out of her. Billy fucked into the space between their bodies, spilling hot onto her stomach with a deep grunt. Starting to come down from her high, Valerie’s eyes opened to see his brows knit together, face creased with pleasure as his head fell forward slightly let his nose nudge against hers.

They were both panting, and Valerie felt like she could absolutely sink into the mattress. When Billy started to untangle himself from her, she made a pouty sound that made him grin as he dropped onto the bed next to her. Settling on his side, he was still breathing heavily, pressing his face against her shoulder. Valerie draped an arm over her forehead when she remembered how to move again and she could feel that her body was slick with sweat, as was Billy’s next to her.

Her body was still buzzing when his hand slid along her jaw to turn her face towards him. She opened her eyes to see him already looking at her, his blue gaze soft and adding to the fact that the blood in her veins felt like lava. His thumb brushed over her lips, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as they stayed like that for awhile.

Billy was the first to move, exhaling a sigh as he pulled back and pushed himself into a sitting position. She noticed the way his eyes swept over her naked frame, lingering on the cum that he’d coated her stomach with, and she licked her lips as she rose her arms above her head to stretch out on the mattress.

“Stay put, okay?” he said, letting his knuckles brush over her knee lightly as he got to his feet. “Gonna grab a towel to clean you up.” Valerie nodded, not sure she would’ve been able to move much if she’d wanted to.

She watched him walk naked to his closet, turning her head to keep her eyes on him as he returned with a towel. It was dark outside already, the room still filled with the warm glow of the lamp on his end table.

“What time is it?” she asked, her eyes on his face as he wiped up the mess he’d left on her stomach.

“A little after 9,” he responded after glancing at his alarm clock. He tossed the towel aside and leaned over her again to press a short kiss to her mouth, which took her by surprise.

Valerie didn’t doubt that her cheeks were still flushed, and her head still felt a little hazy by the time he pulled back. She finally sat up, smoothing her hair down as she glanced at the pile of her clothes on the floor, deciding that getting dressed was too much effort for the time being.

Billy had pulled on a pair of briefs and grabbed a pack of cigarette and a lighter off his dresser. When he moved back to the bed again, he had a black t-shirt in hand that her offered to her. She thanked him softly as he sat on the edge of the mattress next to her, pulling the shirt on over her head. It was impossible to ignore the smell of his cologne and smoke that clung to the fabric that made warmth settle in her chest. He was close enough that his thigh was touching hers, his eyes lingering on her as he fished a cigarette out of the pack.

“You want one, or are you just going to steal hits from mine again?” he asked, his voice a gentle grumble as he brought it up to his mouth to light. Valerie grinned, licking her lips quickly as she watched the end of the cigarette burn red.

“If you gave me one, most of it would go to waste,” she responded, tucking her hair behind her ear. “So really, it’s better that I just take a few drags from yours.” There was a matter of fact tone to her voice that made Billy scoff softly as he shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, taking a long hit from the cigarette before offering it to her. He sucked a breath in through his teeth as she took it from him, his eyes on her as she lifted it between her lips. “You gonna leave your number for me so I don’t have to wait another two weeks for you to call me again?” Smoke billowed from his mouth as he spoke, making him look like every bit of the sex god he was.

Valerie rolled her eyes, laughing softly before taking a drag from the cigarette. She was grateful that the smoke in her lungs gave her a moment to mull over a response. “I’ll think about it,” she told him finally, and it was his turn to roll his eyes, shaking his head as she grinned. She exhaled, then took another hit before passing it back to him.

They were sitting close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, and her eyes moved over the lines of his chest and shoulders. Part of her wanted to lean into him, because she had decided that she liked the feeling of his body against hers, regardless of if his dick was involved or not.

Silence had settled over them, and Valerie’s eyes kept drifting back to his face. She had slept with him twice now, and was still struggling to believe that it wasn’t all some sort fever dream. Despite being unsure of what his game was, what he was after, right then didn’t seem like the best time to ask.

“You busy Thursday night?” Billy asked, leaning to tap the cigarette on the edge of the ashtray on his nightstand before offering it to her. Her fingers brushed over his as she took it from him, raising an eyebrow as she ran through her schedule in her mind.

“I don’t think so. Just got class until 2,” she responded, holding his gaze as she took a drag. “What’d you have in mind?”

He shrugged with one shoulder, running his tongue along his teeth. “Thought we could see a movie or something.”

Both of her eyebrows raised then as she took a final hit from the cigarette before passing it back to him to finish off. “D’you actually want to watch the movie, or is seeing a movie an excuse for you to finger me in public?” she questioned, the teasing tone obvious in her voice.

The question made him laugh loudly as he shook his head. “What kind of Don Juan do you think I am?” he asked, still grinning as Valerie mirrored the expression.

“Oh, was that rumor about you getting Lisa Kramer off during a football game completely false?”

Billy’s eyebrows knit together as he thought about it. “Probably not, but remember, Val, I’m a changed man,” he assured her in an exaggerated tone as if he hadn’t just eaten her out in his kitchen before fucking her into the mattress, and they laughed together again. “Okay, but really, which one was Lisa Kramer again?”

Valerie snorted, closing her eyes briefly as she tried to picture what the girl looked like. “Uhh, curly blonde hair, drove that car that was a really ugly shade of green,” she said, enjoying this relaxed, funny side of him.

Billy tsked softly. “Yeah, that rumor was entirely true,” he admitted, getting a burst of laughter out of Valerie. He was wearing that warm, genuine smile when she met his eye again, and it was one of those moments where it felt like time had frozen around them.

She had forgotten over the last several weeks that even talking to him felt good and natural, even if it was just them sitting there, still half naked and sharing a cigarette. The realization of how calm he seemed struck her, considering how anger had always seemed to vibrate from him before. Valerie still worried that she was wading into dangerous waters with him, but when he looked at her like that, the prospect of drowning didn’t sound so bad.

Valerie watched as Billy shifted to lean back against his headboard, and he watched her right back before he tilted his head toward the empty space next to him. She knew if she got more comfortable than she already was, she wouldn’t want to leave.

“You gonna sleep over?” he asked, seeming to sense her hesitation. Grinning apologetically, she shook her head.

“Not tonight,” she said, wishing she was giving him a different answer. “I’m observing at the local high school tomorrow, so I’ve got to be up by 6.”

“I’ve got an alarm clock,” he countered, head tilted to the side slightly. He had to at least try, and it actually made Valerie feel good to know that he wanted her to stay over enough that he was trying to convince her. The grin she gave him made it clear that he wouldn’t be able to talk her into it. “Do you have to be up that early every Monday?”

“Yeah. On Wednesdays, too,” Valerie told him, and his nose scrunched up at the thought of having to do that twice a week. His expression made her grin, and she finally got to her feet to gather her clothes from the floor.

“You takin’ off now?”

“I probably should.” Disappointment laced her tone as she stepped into her skirt, and Billy sucked his teeth with a nod. His eyes were on her as she removed the shirt he’d given her and tossed it onto the bed.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said as he watched her fasten her bra before she pulling her sweater on.

Valerie nodded as he got to his feet and stepped around her to approach his dresser. He grabbed a pair of sweats and stepped into them, and somehow the sight of the sweats sitting low on his hips had her contemplating sleeping over.

“You decided if you’re gonna leave me your number yet?” Billy asked, licking his lips as he moved closer to her. He picked up the shirt she’d left on the bed and pulled it on, and it was her turn for her eyes to linger.

Laughing, Valerie nodded. “Yeah, I guess I can do that,” she said with a wide smile, her hands coming up to his shoulders before wrapping her arms around his neck.

“There’s a pen and paper by the phone. You jot your number down, and I’ll grab your panties from the kitchen,” he told her, smiling as he leaned to just barely brush his lips over hers. She exhaled a breath, hating that that light kiss was all it took for her to want to start pulling her clothes off again already. Billy obviously knew what he was doing, considering the smirk on his face when he stepped away from her again and nodded toward the door.

She found the pen and paper where he’d said it wold be, and she wrote her number down with a V next to it. He was back from the kitchen by the time she was finished, dropping he previously discarded underwear into her hand with another knowing smirk. Valerie put a hand on his shoulder for support as she stepped into them and he chuckled softly.

“You’re lucky I didn’t try to keep them,” he teased as she righted herself, his body still close enough to hers that he could easily have wrapped himself around her if he had less restraint. She scoffed in response to his word, rolling her eyes before she stepped away from him.

He watched her walk to the front door to step into her shoes, and he followed a few steps behind her to do the same. Reaching around her, he opened the front door for her and let her step onto the porch first.

“So, Thursday?” Valerie said as they crossed the street to where she’d parked her car.

“Yeah, Thursday,” he responded with a nod, licking his lips as she turned around to face him. “I’ll call in the next couple days to hammer out the details.”

“Okay, sounds good.” She smiled warmly at him as she nodded back, her keys in hand as she hesitated, content to linger there with him for a few more moments.

“It’s not too late for you to come back inside and get back in bed,” Billy reminded her with an earnest grin, enjoying the laugh he got out of her.

“Next time,” she assured him, her hand coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear.

“Next time,” he repeated with a brief nod as she watched his eyes dropped to her mouth.

Valerie wasn’t sure which of them had moved first, just that his lips crashed into hers as his arm looped around her waist. His other hand was on her jaw, holding her in place there as he hummed into her mouth. She felt dizzy from it quickly, both of them hanging on to the last thread of their evening together. Pulling back, she rested her forehead against his as she took a breath, then pressed a soft, short kiss to his lips.

“I’ve gotta go,” she said quietly, laughing as she untangled herself from him. Billy pressed a kiss to her temple before he released her, taking a step back to give her room to open her car door.

“See you in a few days,” he told her, licking his lips again. She nodded with a smile, closing the door once she was in her seat. He exhaled a big breath as he started back toward the house, shoving his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

Valerie pulled away from the curb and exhaled a breath of her own, a contented, pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

****** post notes: And, we're back! Obviously, I don't know much how you all are feeling about the story so far, but I really like this chapter, and I really enjoy exploring the softer, more mature side of Billy. The next chapter is going to be more about his perspective and the things that have changed in his life between the end of season three (sans him dying, obvs) and when he found Valerie at the bar!

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fic #stranger things smut

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