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sinsofsummers · 11 months

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sensational; part ii

6.8k | joel miller x f!innocent!reader follow-up to sensational

summary: you've tasked joel with teaching you about all of the things you missed. he's back for more...teaching moments. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. softdom!joel vibes in this one, joel gives reader an anatomy lesson, pet names (lots of dollface) fingering, praise kink to the gods, masturbation (f and brief m), reader gives joel a hand(y), grinding, bit of a corruption kink toward the end, jesus there might need to be a part 3 note: well. look at what you guys did. you went and loved on sensational so much and asked for a part 2 so often that i just had to grant your wishes. i hope you’re fckn happy✌🏼🥹 (this is all jokes i’m so excited to write more of this dynamic teehee)

You'd never counted yourself as a dreamer of any sort; when sleep clouded your brain at night, every thought faded along with it. Aside from the occasional nightmare, reminding you of your parents' absence, you hadn't had an actual dream since you were a kid.

Of course, that night in Joel's house had changed everything, in every possible way. In just an hour or so he had taken your world into his hands, shaped it, flipped it, and returned it to you, unrecognizable. His name was carved into everything you saw and touched, and this included your dreams.

He was everywhere in your head when you slept. So much so that you'd begun to forget which was reality and which was a figment of your imagination, which made your patrols with him all the more humiliating.

Your hands were cold. It was all you could focus on as you followed Joel along your normal patrol route. Just twelve hours had passed since that night in his house, when he'd touched you with rough hands and what taught you what it meant to feel desired. His words still rang clear in your head days later:

Trust me, doll. I've got so much more to teach you.

It sent your head reeling just to think about it now. The memory of his fingertips grazing the side of your face as he'd said it, those brown eyes sparkling with desire for you—a vision of contentment.

You had leaned into his touch subconsciously, reaching a hand up to trace the line of his wrist. His eyes had darted to where your fingers pressed to his skin, a soft grin replacing his satisfied smirk. "I'd better get you home, then," he'd whispered.

It had taken everything in you to ignore the small pang of disappointment that had bloomed in your gut, but it was an easier task when he'd dropped his lips to your forehead.

"No one'll miss me at home," you'd protested quietly, trying not to relish too much in the feeling of his beard scratching at the space between your eyebrows.

This sentiment was true. You still didn't know how things had worked out so well, but after arriving in Jackson, Tommy (the fact that it was Joel's younger brother made this seem all the less coincidental) and Maria had been more than accommodating. They'd offered you your own space, a house to yourself. Granted, it was much smaller than Joel's, but it was your own. It had become home in the four short years you'd lived in Jackson.

No one was waiting for you at home. It was a fact that used to make your throat close up, memories taunting you every moment they could. Now it was a welcomed thought, if it meant that you could remain in the heady presence of Joel Miller.

But he'd only shaken his head, his brown eyes flitting down to your lips before returning to your gaze. "I'm sure they'll notice when you don't come strolling out of your own place in the mornin'," he'd insisted gently. His thumb traced your bottom lip when your shoulders slumped. You hoped you didn't look as pitiful as you felt, your lip threatening to push outward in a pout.

"Might not be able to keep my hands to myself tonight if I let you stay," he'd breathed. You didn't care if he said it as an apology, or if it was actually true.

Because who were you to disagree with him? It was Joel.

So without more than a lingering hand on your wrist, he'd walked you to your door. When you'd teased him for such a chivalrous act, he'd cocked an eyebrow, glancing sideways at you. "Can't just let you walk home alone after that," he'd scoffed, his voice rough again in the outdoors. A few people were still milling about despite it being darker than pitch after nightfall. "M'not a complete scoundrel," he said with a wry grin.

Your front door always looked so inviting, a place for you to take a breath and relax after a long day. In that moment, it was taking everything in you to put one foot in front of the other and return to your own place.

"Scoundrel," you'd mused, hoping the amusement in your voice covered the way you leaned back with every step, as if you could claim one more touch of his body—arm, chest, shoulder—to send you to bed with nothing but him on your mind. "Kind of a big word, wouldn't you say?" you'd teased him, just as he'd done to you. "Sure you know what it means?"

The twitch of his jaw was enough of a reward for your attempt at humor, but your satisfied smirk had been wiped clean off your face when he'd darted a glance around before leaning in, hovering just centimeters from your face.

It occurred to you in that moment that you'd truly only kissed him once. A shame, a voice in your head sighed. His lips were devastatingly plump, even in the darkness.

Joel had stayed there, his eyes tearing down to your mouth before warning you in that deliciously low baritone, "I know what it is. Best get inside," his jaw twitched once more and you caught him clenching and unclenching his fists, "'fore I show you what it means to be a scoundrel."

You'd gone inside with a shaky breath and the return of that familiar pulse that, it seemed, only he knew how to ignite.

—

Joel chose not to look in the mirror when he'd gone home that night. He wasn't sure he'd be able to stand the way his hair was undoubtedly wild, his eyes hard with desire, and his hands still aching with the memory of her squirming body in his lap.

After four years of near silence, this girl had unraveled him. After all those days on patrol with her, nothing to do except look at her when she wouldn't notice, Joel Miller had been undone.

The next day, waking up early with the stiffness in his boxers begging to be dealt with, Joel spit on his palm and wrapped it around his cock, releasing a sigh. Fuck's sake, he thought with a groan. Can't hardly get a full night's sleep anymore.

It should have annoyed him; it was certainly an inconvenience. But if it meant that he'd get to spend more time thinking about her body and her lips and her eyes when she asked those incessant questions, then so be it. He'd never sleep another wink and be glad for it.

It didn't take long for his release to come, not when the memories of her whines were so fresh in his mind. To think that he'd had her on his lap, hips squirming in that way that only she knew...it was enough to make him—"A grown fuckin' man," he reminded himself—spill into his hands and draw ragged breaths into his lungs to recover.

With an arm thrown across his face, he latched onto the image of her in the heat of ecstasy, her eyelids fluttering shut and her lips wet from constantly biting them.

For a moment, he tried to rein himself in. Can't be doin' this, he'd thought while getting ready for patrol that morning. Don't wanna take advantage of her, or fuck her up cause of my inability to control my own desires.

In reality, he'd considered, did she really know what she was getting herself into? With little more knowledge than the mechanics of reproduction, it had been evident with the events of the previous night that she knew nothing of what pleasure could be. Did he really want to be responsible for her discovery of such things?

But when he went to the stables an hour later and saw her standing in the snow with an extra twinge in her grin and her eyes sparkling despite the echoes of fatigue in her irises, every doubt dissipated immediately. He pretended not to notice the way her eyes lingered on his back when they saddled up, heading out of Jackson for the day.

Joel Miller was never one to deny a woman in need. Why should he have stopped now?

—

"How'd you sleep?"

When you looked over at him, almost shocked that he'd broken the silence, your eyebrow quirked up. "Fine," you answered.

It wasn't that this patrol had been disappointing, it was just...ever since you'd left Jackson that morning, you'd been waiting for him to look at you like he had the night before, or to even acknowledge you in the way that you could still remember him doing.

Maybe it was because Tommy was nearby at the time, or maybe he'd changed his mind after all. Maybe you'd overstepped, asking a man so much older than you to teach you all of this. Maybe it hadn't happened at all—your dreams were rather convincing these days.

If it hadn't been for those girls, hell-bent on making you feel ostracized, perhaps you wouldn't have landed yourself in this position. You probably wouldn't have had any reason to be curious about what it all meant, and you could have gone on in comfortable silence with him on your patrols.

With a heavy mind, you blew out a breath. If it hadn't been for those girls, though—you never would have known the creases that sank into the corners of his eyes when he grinned at you.

Beside you, having held back to come up shoulder-to-shoulder, Joel huffed. "Bullshit, darlin'," he scoffed, casting a sideways glance in your direction.

You tightened your hands on the reins. "Excuse me?" you said sharply.

His chuckle was a soft rumble in his chest, and you ached to feel it against your back. "I saw those sleepy eyes at the stables," he crooned, the corners of his eyes crinkling just like you remembered. "Looks like someone didn't get a good night's sleep."

"Oh, and I'm just supposed to believe you slept like a damn baby, then?" You couldn't help the incredulity in your tone, but you blushed when you noticed him smirking, his lips twitching as he fought a smile away.

"'Course not," he shook his head almost dismissively. "Couldn't tell my brain to stop conjurin' pictures of you shakin' in my lap." He adjusted the way he was seated on his horse, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was getting hard at the reminder of the memory.

You, in a similar vein, were trying to ignore the unmistakable feel of heat puddling between your legs. Keeping your eyes forward, you asked, "Is that a good thing?"

Joel nodded. "A very good thing, dollface. You were so good for me last night."

Any air that had been in your lungs left in a rush, and you put a hand to your cheek, warm despite the winter's wind. You thought you heard yourself whine at the sound of the pet name.

Thankfully, he didn't say or do anything to show that he'd noticed. Instead, he tugged his horse to a stop. "Let's get down here," he said. "Walk and talk, yeah?"

The thought of walking beside him after all that had happened the night before was enough to make you freeze in your saddle, suddenly unsure of how to get down. "Yeah," you mumbled, if only to fill the silence.

You could hear the crunch of snow under his boots as he came up beside you, thick gloved hands reaching for your waist. "C'mon, darlin'," he'd insisted, "I won't bite."

There was a note of irony in his tone, and you let him pull you from your saddle, landing in the snow in front of him. Your jacket snagged against his, and you stood there for a moment, letting your frosty wisps of breath coil and furl with his. "What do you mean?" you asked, cursing your ever-present confidence when it came to asking him questions. It seemed that you'd never learn to hold your tongue.

"Hmm?" he hummed in response. "What's what mean?" He stepped away from you to grab the reins in his hand and began to walk forward in the snow.

You shook your head and pushed on, stumbling after him. When did the snow get so deep? "You sounded rather..." you trailed off, searching for the word.

"Oh, here it comes," he mused in that serious tone, hardly covering the teasing lilt that rang clear in his eyes. "Bet you're coming up with a big word right about now, huh?"

You couldn't help it when you rolled your eyes and swatted a hand at the back of his arm. "I was going to say you sounded smug," you finished. "About how you won't bite?"

There it was again. That look of slight surprise at your questions. You waited for a few moments, the two of you trudging along in the snow, before he answered quietly. "We're jumpin' ahead of ourselves, but I s'pose it won't hurt." He shrugged. "Some people like it. Biting."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Like it?" You looked down at your hands, covered in thick gloves. "Doesn't it hurt?"

Joel smirked. "It can," he considered, "if the person gettin' bitten wants it like that." He brushed your arm with his. "But some people don't like it at all. Just depends."

You braved a look up at his face and swallowed roughly, feeling your core pulse at the sight of his rosy cheeks. "Does it have to hurt?" You didn't mean to sound so desperate; you were just curious. "I mean, is it like...like a real bite?"

It happened so quickly that you hardly had a moment to process. Joel stopped in his tracks, pulled you near, and dipped his head down to your ear. "Don't have to," he murmured, and you were just starting to quiver at the feel of his voice next to your ear when he was brushing your hair from your neck and grazing his teeth against your skin. "Can feel good, if the person doin' the biting knows how."

You couldn't help the hand that shot out to grab his arm, as if it were the only thing that might hold you up. "I'm assuming you know how," you said thickly, eyes wandering on his weathered face. Funny, you thought at the sight of his grin, he looks quite young like this.

Joel shifted his arm so he could squeeze your hand once with his before letting it go. "Don't boost my ego too high, sweetcheeks," he warned, but you could hear the humor in his voice. "Might never let go if you do."

You knew he was kidding, but the prospect that he was being serious made your stomach flutter and forced you to clench your thighs together, bringing the forefront of your attention back to the frustration that was pooling between your legs. "Joel," you muttered in a whine, not quite realizing you'd said it until he was looking at you with a twinge of concern.

"What's up, doll?" he asked, slowing to a stop. "Somethin' wrong?"

A curly tendril of his graying hair was blown into his face with the winter wind, and you wished you could brush it away with your fingers like he'd done just moments ago. "I..." you inhaled deeply, and shifted your weight. "I'm..."

It took him a moment to understand, and when he did, his eyes sparkled. "Oh, doll," he cooed, reaching forward to tug you closer to him. "Need something', huh?"

You leaned your head forward until your forehead rested against him, breathing in the scene of pine and old leather and that heady musk that was utterly Joel. Nodding into his strong chest, you brought your hand up to his wrist and tugged it down, down, down...there.

Joel's large hand cupped the mound between your legs and you swallowed harshly as it pulsed again, begging for the sweet release he'd given you the night before. "Fuck," he breathed, the vibrations of his voice rolling against your skin. "Shoulda told me you were this bothered, baby," he hummed.

You lifted your head. "I've been trying," you said in a pitiful whine, although this wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. "Why does it...why do I ache so bad?"

His smirk quivered, and his pupils were suddenly huge as he withdrew his hand from where it covered your heat, exposing it to the frigid winter air once more. "I think we've gone far enough, don't you?" he winked. "Think we may as well head back."

The implications of what would happen when you got back to Jackson made your head spin. Nodding feverishly, you let go of the twinge of embarrassment at your eagerness. "Yes, please," you hiccuped.

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "Good," he murmured.

—

This was the worst possible outcome.

Just when you'd worked up to exactly where you wanted to be with Joel, with his hands on you and his intentions leading you back to his house (and hopefully his couch), Tommy stopped you at the stables.

Well, not you. Not you at all, actually. He stalked up to his older brother and said, Meeting at my place, Joel."

He'd just gotten down from his saddle to help you do the same and was letting his hands linger on your waist when the interruption happened. With his hungry eyes locked on yours, he'd been leaning into your touch and hovering his hands just inches from your heat.

You could have sworn he jumped out of his skin at the sound of Tommy's voice; you just hoped it was because of his infamous hearing loss on his ride side and decidedly not because he'd been caught standing so close to you.

"We just had a meeting last week," he said gruffly, his eyes still searching yours. For what, you weren't sure—but you were quickly growing addicted to finding those rare flecks of gold buried in the espresso brown seas reflected back at you. His hands clenched involuntarily, and given the fact that they were resting around your hips, you got a delicious lick of pleasure that shot through your pelvis at the sensation.

Tommy didn't seem to be in the mood for dawdling. "And now we're having one this week," he insisted. "My place. Maria and the others are waiting."

You lifted your chin to see him close his eyes in annoyance. His mouth opened once; he closed it. When he opened it again, his eyes flashed along with the movement. "Alright, I'll be there in a minute," he said tersely, and you pretended not to notice the way his gloved thumb rubbed a slow circle on your hip. An apology, perhaps.

When he didn't move, you blushed with smug satisfaction. It had never been more clear that he didn't want to move.

"Joel, it's important." Usually, you'd never had an issue with Tommy. Now, of course, the sound of his voice clawed at your every hope for tonight.

With a soft look at your lips, Joel jerked his head to look at his brother. "I said give me a fuckin' minute," he said, his words clipped. "Fuck's sake," he muttered as he turned around. "Just answerin' a goddamn question," he finished, soft enough that you were sure his brother couldn't hear.

Tommy grumbled his fair share of disapproving words, but you couldn't help the grateful bubble that bloomed in your gut when you heard the shuffle of his boots as he left you alone in the stables with Joel.

He waited a moment or two before letting out a soft sigh. You couldn't have known how disappointed he was, but the way he lifted a hand to your cheek was clue enough. "New lesson, dollface," he said.

A pang of regret hit your stomach and you found yourself shaking your head. "Please?" you asked in a quiet voice. "I don't want a new lesson."

Joel grinned and sucked in a sharp breath. "I know, baby, I know." The familiar phrase threw you back to the night before, when he'd had his hands all over you, reassuring you with those exact words. But now, it wasn't a comfort. "But if I'm not around and you need to feel good..." His hand trailed down your cheek, brushed against your chest and returned to its previous spot between your legs. "I want you to practice touchin' yourself, yeah?"

His voice had become a near-painful whisper, just loud enough for you to feel rather than hear his words caress your skin. "This of me all you want, darlin'. God knows I'll be thinkin' of you at this damn...meeting," he practically spat the last word, but it didn't take away from the pressure that was building and causing you to blink rapidly. "Think about me," he repeated, "but I want you to explore this pretty body for me so you can tell me all about it when I get back."

The sound of his voice enveloped you, that heady sensation nearly making your knees give out. With a slow nod, you couldn't see yourself ever disobeying him. Not when he asked such sinful things of you.

"Okay," you whispered. "I'll try."

His mouth was in a hard line, his irritation at Tommy's interruption still prevalent. But it softened for a moment when he slid a gloved thumb over your bottom lip, letting it get pulled from its place before bouncing back. You darted your tongue out, wetting your lip in a desperate attempt to taste his leather on your skin; to taste him.

"Good," he said softly. Something new pulsed at the sound of his praise, but you fought it down. "I'll see you soon, doll."

—

Despite everything you tried when you got home—despite squeezing your eyes shut and picturing that dimple in Joel's cheek when he smirked, or the way his arms felt when wrapped around you—nothing helped. The pressure remained, the ache between your legs was ever-present, and yet...

You couldn't give yourself the release you craved. Not like Joel could.

There was no telling how long you tried, hand shoved down your pants in a sour attempt to replicate the feeling he'd given you. Your fingers were clumsy, untrained, and entirely new to the task, leaving you desperate and unsatisfied. A strangled whine left your throat when your mind flashed with the memory of his face near yours, his lips on your own, and his rough hands rubbing that small bud at your center. It was maddening.

He'd asked you to do this one thing, and you couldn't deliver. Of course, you'd never even realized this was a possibility; you'd only ever heard of men bringing themselves to the plummeting precipice of pleasure. You never considered that you could do the same.

But you didn't want to make yourself feel good. You wanted Joel to do it.

After what felt like hours, stuck in your house alone, Joel nowhere to be found, and with your hopes slipping into despair, you gave up. Your fingers would never be as rough or as thick as his. You didn't know how to explore your body when you couldn't tip yourself over the edge to ecstasy; it was impossible.

Weary and defeated, you went to bed with a groan. Joel still hadn't shown up. Either it was a long meeting, or...you didn't want to entertain the thought that he'd possibly forgotten about you. About your task to be completed.

You actually did drop off into a dreamless sleep, but when you woke to the sound of a knock at your door, you were almost positive the dreams had begun again. Swinging your legs out of bed, you trudged to the door with sleep oozing in every movement. The door opened with a click, and you blinked.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetcheeks," Joel breathed. A distant streetlamp, the only one in Jackson, was the sole source of light that illuminated the edges of his broad body on your porch. He looked near-angelic.

You didn't say anything for a moment, only crossed your arms to keep yourself warm in the face of the wintry outdoors. The relief and anticipation at seeing him here paired with the disappointment and fatigue that it had taken so long warred with each other, creating a dangerous mix as you managed to say, "Are you...hungry? Or something?"

He swallowed, and your head swam with the desire to lay your tongue flat on his neck where his Adam's apple bobbed. "Starving," he groaned, and in one step he was not only in your house but he was all over you, and you were wearing nothing but your thin pajamas.

He'd apparently already taken off his gloves, and when his hand came up to cup your cheek your body registered the chill of his fingers with a shock, despite leaning into his touch all the same. He took a moment to look at you before touching his forehead to yours, pressing his lips to yours gently. You could practically taste the restraint on his mouth, and you wanted nothing more than to beg him for everything.

Something about your face must have given it away when he pulled back because he tapped a finger against your cheek. "You look like you need somethin'." He darted a look down to your legs. "Did you do what I asked?"

You weren't sure what made you lie, but you nodded nonetheless. "Uh-huh."

Even in the dark, he was so close to you that you could see his eyebrow lift in question. You didn't know how he knew, but why wouldn't he? This was Joel. "You didn't come," he concluded, and you ducked your head. "Why not, dollface? I thought I told you to."

The implication that his request was, in fact, a command, didn't slip your mind. Your cheeks burned when you forced yourself to look at him. "I couldn't. I don't know how."

"Sure you do," he whispered. "You did real good last night for me, remember?" His lips ghosted your jaw.

You shook your head. "I don't know how. I've never...made myself come."

When Joel looked at you, you could have sworn his lips twitched, betraying the desire in his movements. "I'm sorry, babydoll," he cooed, bringing his other hand to your cheek. He slotted his lips over yours once more, and it was all you could do not to sink to the floor right there. "We'll have to fix that, won't we?"

You nodded. "Show me? Please?"

Without another word he bent to brush his lips across your hairline—you could have sworn you felt him inhale with his nose in your hair—and murmured, "In the morning, yeah?"

You pulled away to complain but he only gave you a soft smile. It was then that you could see the exhaustion in his face, eyes downturned despite those creases winking at you in the darkness. "But—"

"Told Tommy you need a day off," he clarified. "'Cause you're...sore..." he splayed his hand on your back and tugged you near, voice low. "Ya know, from all that horseback ridin'."

An anticipatory chuckle bubbled from your chest. "No way he bought that," you said breathlessly as he nipped your jawline with his teeth (you were almost sure it was supposed to be a kiss). "I've been patrolling on horseback for years."

Joel shrugged and looked down at you with a smirk. "Who knows? Maybe I should have told him you were waiting for me to come home and make you fall apart on my fingers," he said dismissively, but his tone did nothing to stop your stomach from flipping.

"Oh," you said dumbly, cursing yourself inwardly for how easily you were rendered speechless in his presence. "He'll...he'll really let us take the day off?" Your mind swam with the possibilities of what you could do with an entire day.

He shook his head. "Not us, darlin'. Just you." Tracing the line of your jaw, his lips twisted into a dry smirk. "I'll have to go tomorrow. But," he whispered, squeezing a hand on your hip and cocking an eyebrow at the way your legs wobbled," I'd gladly go every morning all by myself if it meant you were in your bed all day, daydreamin' about me."

It was a heavier confession that you'd expected out of him, and you let out a breathy sigh. "In the morning then," you asked. You swallowed roughly in an attempt to push down the lump of pure need that had risen in your chest, but to no avail.

Joel nodded firmly. "Trust me," he hummed, "in the morning."

So you'd led him to your bed with no more discussion. It hadn't occurred to you that he might not stay the night; he'd come to your place after the meeting like he'd said, and it was the middle of the night. Why wouldn't he have stayed the night?

Despite everything in you fighting to stay awake, the second you returned to your mattress and pulled the covers up, your eyelids drooped. Joel stood at the end of the bed and shed his jacket slowly. "Sleep, doll," he said, his voice echoing in the otherwise silent room as he bent to kick off his boots. "I'll be here when you wake up."

—

Was he getting too close? Was he pushing the boundaries too far, too soon? Probably.

Selfishly, Joel didn't much care.

—

Sure enough—when morning came, when the dull winter sunlight crept into your house and draped the floor in soft yellow, you felt the dip of your mattress beside you and betrayed Joel's presence. He'd stayed. Like he said.

Quite the dedicated teacher, you thought to yourself with a satisfied warmth. You'd felt him climb into bed last night, but despite your every wish for him to press himself to your back and hold you tightly the whole night, he'd kept at least a foot of space between your bodies. Always close enough to touch, but never giving in.

You rolled over and swiped a hand over your face, a few stray strands falling into your eyes. The breath left your chest when you saw him there, eyes open and waiting for you. "Hi," you said, your voice rough with sleep. Again with the monosyllabic responses, you scolded yourself.

Joel hummed, the deep rumble of his voice reverberating through the mattress and into your body. "Looked so sweet like that, darlin'," he mused, his rough hands tucked under his head. He reached one of them toward you and tapped your bottom lip, plump with sheep, with two of his fingertips. "Didn't wanna wake you up."

"You didn't." You weren't sure what made you do it, but you moved closer, shifting your entire body until your nose almost brushed his. Your eyes flitted up to look at the way his graying hair laid messily around the crown of his head, haircuts neglected for who knew how long. "Can we...I want to start now," you mumbled.

His jaw ticked, and he looked like he was swallowing down a grin. "Look at you," he cooed, "so eager. Aren't you hungry, doll?"

You bit your lip and you could have sworn you saw his eyes widen. "Starving," you fumbled over the word, imitating his response to you the night before on your porch.

Joel let go of a chuckle and his eyes danced with mirth. "Always turnin' my words back on me, aren't ya?" When you nodded sheepishly, he slid his hand around to cup the back of your head and he pulled you in, connecting his lips with yours. "Okay, pretty girl," he said. "We'll start. Since you asked so nicely."

His lips were chapped from the cold weather but they were still soft as he pressed them to yours, moving lazily as the two of you blinked away the last clutches of sleep. "Always so soft, these lips," he murmured, and then his hand was moving from your neck to your chest. "Everyone's different, yeah? There's these spots on everyone's body," he said, absentmindedly drawing swirls along the expanse of your chest, making you shiver. "Let's call them...pleasure points."

"Pleasure points," you repeated breathlessly, your stomach fluttering as he rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. "Is that—"

He grinned with a nod. "Think I just found one of 'em, doll." He rolled you onto your back and bent his head down, his breath fanning over your chest and warming you through your thin pajama shirt. "This is how we get you all ready for me, when the time comes."

You nodded quietly and let out a shaky sigh as his hands wandered. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you practically preened at the feeling of his lips against your skin while his hands squeezed and caressed your breasts, moving over your stomach. "Joel—"

He paused, hand hovering over the hem of your shirt. "What, babygirl?"

You couldn't help the whine that fought its way out of your throat. "Please," you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut at the pressure that writhed in your core.

Joel's fingers lifted the hem of your shirt, his mouth widening in a grin at the way that your stomach rose and fell in spattered pants. "Come on, darlin'," he crooned, "open those pretty eyes for me. Gotta see you, doll."

It was all you could do not to take his hand in your own and shove it to your core where you needed him desperately, but you did as he asked.

"That's it, baby," he breathed, good girl."

You'd become familiar with the way your stomach clenched at his use of pet names, but this was new. You had done well for him. You wanted to stay that way. "Will you touch me please? I need—"

"So eager," he murmured, leaning in with his lips to your earlobe. "Lemme take my time with you, dollface." And then his lips were wrapping to the soft part of your ear, his teeth grazing at your skin. Paired with this sensation and the heady feeling of his hand on your waistband, fumbling to push his hand beneath it, you arched your back and released a series of high-pitched whines.

"JoelJoelJoelpleasepleaseplease," you were overcome with the pure, unbridled need that was speeding through your body like a tidal wave on a summer day.

"Alright, darlin', alright," he acquiesced, pushing his hand into your waistband and pulling it down over your hips. You didn't even have the mind to be shy about being laid bare to him this way; you just needed him to touch you.

Before you could beg him again, he had his fingertip on your core, sliding it gently through your slick heat. "Oh, baby," he groaned, rutting his hips against your side. His bulge pressed into your hip and you flexed your fingers to reach for it. "M'never gettin' used to how wet you are for me," his voice shook.

One finger became two, and then his fingertips were rubbing sweet circles to your sensitive bud, drawing near pornographic moans to tumble past your lips. "Can I touch you, please?" you begged, your hand fisting your bedsheets. "Wanna touch you, Joel, please."

He hummed against your ear as he swiped another finger against your bud and lifted your hand to his lips. "Sure thing, doll," he said, and placed it in his hair. Your fingers instinctually carded through the coarse strands, and you blushed when his eyes fluttered closed. "Hold on tight if you need to, pretty girl," he grinned, and lemme know if it's too much."

You were going to ask if what was too much, but then he dipped his finger further down your core, notching it at the small opening. You hadn't even thought this far ahead, that things would eventually lead here. Something pulsed and you whined, tugging his hair in your hand.

"Look at you, so ready for me," he murmured against your neck. His tongue swept out to lick a small stripe along the sensitive skin there and when you let out a stuttering breath he chuckled. "You are ready for me, aren't ya, pretty girl?"

You couldn't nod fast enough. "Please," you choked out, and then he was pressing his finger inside you.

It was a small intrusion, but overwhelming all the same. In all your years, you'd never had the thought that it could feel this good to have him close to you like this. He was only as far as the first knuckle, but with the way that his bulge was nudging your hips, he wanted much more. "Good girl," he breathed, "such a good girl, openin' your legs like this."

"Wanna touch you," you whimpered again, vision blurring with the desperation that coursed through your veins. "Please, Joel, let me touch you."

He kissed you, but you could hardly focus enough to move your lips against his. "Already touchin' me," he said. "You want more?"

"Yes," you nodded feverishly, releasing your hand from his hair. "I wanna..." you looked down at his bulge and licked your lips.

Joel's eyes were wide as he whispered, "For fuck's sake, darlin', when you're cryin' about it..." he swiped a thumb across your cheeks, collecting a teardrop you hadn't even known was there. "How could I say no?"

Thankyouthankyouthankyou were the only words in your mind, a jumbled mess as you reached for him. Your finger traced his length and before you knew it, you were reaching inside his boxers to release it from its constraints. "Holy fuck," you whined, bucking your hips into his hand as you saw just how big he was, long and thick and heavy in your hand. "Need it," you found yourself whispering. "Need you."

It was all you could do before he pushed his finger further, then out, and then in, just enough to throw you closer to that addicting edge of ecstasy. Once again, you found yourself enveloped in the thick pressure of pure desire in his arms.

He pressed the pad of his thumb to your bud and swirled circles in your heat, his lips connecting to your ear once more. "Alright, baby. Alright, baby," he practically chanted in a low tone, nibbling on your lobe just hard enough to pinch the skin. "C'mon now, squeeze my finger like that, that's it," he groaned, drawing out the final two syllables, "good girl."

With his hand in the crux of your legs and his mouth connected to your ear, whispering the filthiest things you'd ever heard in your sheltered life, you threw your head back into the pillow and curled your legs toward him, your hand squeezing his cock tightly as you continued your strokes.

The sounds that erupted from your throat as you burst in a state of pure pleasure were the most pitiful (and yet electrifying) noises you'd ever heard yourself make, and you couldn't help but continue rolling your hips into his hands, chasing the feeling until it became more intense and your legs began to twitch again. "Joel," you mewled, voice breaking, "I need you."

A teasing chuckle sounded, and your cheeks warmed as he removed his hand from your slick. "So much you don't know, dollface," he crooned, tracing his index down the line of your nose. He pushed another, shining with your release, into your mouth. The sweetness nearly made you fall apart again. "Don't know if you're ready for that."

Your body was on fire, nearly throbbing with the insatiable need to be wrapped in his arms, with his hands everywhere, his lips anywhere. Your hand had been moving on his shaft, but his hips stuttered with your next words. "I am," you insisted, "I need you, please. I wanna feel you everywhere."

Joel's pupils went wide and he shuddered out a breath, mumbling a string of curses with his eyes shut. He thrusted his hips into your hand and then your skin was sticky and warm with his own release, some of it landing on your stomach where you lay beside him.

"Shit," he groaned with a rueful smirk. "Maybe I'm not ready for that yet." His breath fanned deliciously over your skin as he continued. "Can't hardly last long enough with the thought of stretching you out like that, baby."

You grinned, and you didn't mind the fact that he could definitely see the flush in your cheeks. "No?"

He shook his head. "Fuck no. I don't wanna think about how quickly I'll come if I were to be inside that pretty pussy yet," he said with a short and gentle tap to your mound. When your hips arched off the mattress and you whined at the sensitivity, he cooed apologetically.

"Isn't that a good thing?" you frowned slightly. "I thought I was making you feel good."

"Makin' me feel too good," he mused, bringing his hand up to hold your face toward him once more. He winked. "Can't have me comin' before you do, sweet girl. Not very gentlemanly of me."

You couldn't help the pang of doubt that clouded your face, and it must have been obvious, because then he was cupping the back of your head and pulling you to his chest. Humming into your neck, he smirked. "Besides, I want to be able to take my sweet time with you. To see you squirmin' beneath me like you do, baby? S'enough to make the pope leave the goddamn church."

tysm for reading, i can't believe you guys convinced me to write MORE filth for these two. u made it to the end, lemme know what you thought!

3K notes · View notes

bratbby333 · 20 days

Text

your beauty never scared me ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️ suguru geto

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ synopsis: after having your heart broken, your best friend helps you pick up the pieces ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ content + warnings: nsfw + mdni !! fem!reader x suguru, reader was in a toxic relationship + cheated on, fwb!suguru, angst, comfort, smut, unprotected sex ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ word count: 5k (+ a smau!! woo!!) ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ author notes: pink indicates reader's pov, orange is suguru's...inspired by Will Grayson, Will Grayson by John Green <3 also this was not beta read so pls excuse any typos xx i hope yall enjoy !!

Heartache has its own special way of ruining someone…

...stripping away every ounce of self-respect you work so hard to accumulate. That’s the trouble with letting people in. The outcome is almost always undecided, left in the hands of fate or whatever the hell you believe in. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness, letting a stranger entangle themselves with every fiber of your being, see every inch of your skin, explore the darker parts of your mind– even the things you hide from yourself. Putting trust in the wrong things, the wrong people. Never knowing someone’s true intentions until you discover them in bed, in your bed, with another. When something breaks inside of you, something cynical puts the pieces back together. You are a shell of who you once were. Blame it on soul-crushing character development.

It’s hard to watch the woman you love destroy herself…

...for the sake of holding on to someone who has only ill-intent in their heart. Perhaps it’s best to remove yourself. It’s agonizing, knowing you have the ability to save her from all this. You could relieve her of the heartache, free her from the suffering. Bring her nothing but joy. She has changed, evolved, and is nearly unrecognizable now. You watch as he withers her down into nothing. That man broke her, leaving her to pick up the pieces. And the woman you see now isn’t the same one you knew all those years ago.

The cold air of December flurries around outside as your chest erupts in warmth at the sight of her name illuminating your lock screen. She asks to see you, and you’d be a fool to decline. As she’s sat before you, you take in every part of her that you missed. But she’s different now. Dull eyes, sloping shoulders, her cheekbones are sunken in as her clothes hang from her figure like it's two sizes too big. But it isn’t, you remember the day she bought that t-shirt. The soul that normally inhabits her body has been replaced with something…unrecognizable. You know it’s her, but your mind tells you otherwise. The way her voice lilts from her lips, how chillingly different she sounds while delivering the news, it’s heartbreaking.

She informs you she won’t be around much, mentioning that it will take time for her to heal from this. You pretend to be supportive of the distance she wants to place between herself and her loved ones, even though it absolutely crushes you.

There’s something peaceful about loneliness…

…only relying on yourself for company. It can be draining of course. With the few friends you do have, you make the most of it. It’s a serene feeling, private even. People perceive you however they please, but only a few trusted individuals know your ins and outs. It's refreshing.

God forbid you have to cater to someone else, especially when dating. It's hard enough having to take care of yourself. You make sure your friends know they’re loved and appreciated, of course, but the idea of inviting another person into your life; someone who demands your time and attention in order for it to work out? No thank you. It’s backfired for you many times before, you aren’t willing to go through it again. Your friends have watched you heal from heartbreak after heartbreak, each one more damning than the last. No one blames you for your cynicism, it’s understandable.

Plus, the emotional upkeep of a romantic relationship is exhausting. And the idea of meeting someone, falling for them, and it not working out in the end? Torturous. Why put yourself through all that?

“You just haven’t found the right one!”

“They’ll come around when you least expect it!”

“You gotta put yourself back out there!”

Blah, blah, blah. Not interested. There’s no room for hopeless romance in this ill-fated world. You’re not dealing with that pain anymore. Not if you can help it.

The trouble with love is that it’s cruel…

…discriminatory, even. Picking and choosing who gets to rejoice in its bliss and simultaneously alienating the unfortunate souls who suffer in its unyielding grip. You attempt to find peace in the silence of her absence, telling yourself that she’s okay, but knowing all too well that her precious heart is still shackled to someone so undeserving. You hold on to the irregular check-in’s you get from her. You hope she’s healing, and you prepare yourself for the outcome; that when she finally returns, she will not be the same person she was.

Betrayal has a pesky habit of sticking around…

…a lingering feeling that still eats away at you. The night you caught him in his infidelity, something deep within you broke. It wasn’t your heart, no, that would be too simple. It was your psyche, the core of your being. The day he left, a part of you left with him. The chemistry of your brain changed, your atomic makeup shifting toward nihilism.

So you move through life differently now. Every positive outlook you once had now cast to the wayside, replaced with unyielding suspicion in attempts to keep your heart guarded from the outside world. Hope has finally run out, the idea that there’s good in everyone proven to be a goddamn lie. You shove your desire for love into a padded safe and hide it away on a forgotten shelf in your mind. Hell, you’d burn that obnoxious feeling if you could. Run it through a meat grinder, chuck it into a volcano, nuke it. Doesn’t matter. Anything to stop it from tearing you apart. It’s not like it’s done you any good. Besides, who would want someone as damaged as you?

Part of you feels guilty…

…for sitting idly by, knowing your dear friend was hurting so deeply. But there wasn’t much you could do. You grant her space, knowing she wasn’t given that same courtesy for four years of her life. You pray she returns soon, aware that she doesn’t do well on her own. Her own mind is acting like a prison, holding her hostage, forcing her to relive her pain day in and day out. But, god damn it, you can’t take it anymore. You have been without her for so long. So you reach out, demanding she spend time with you. Self-isolation can only get you so far. It had been months since you’d seen her last. And to your surprise, she agrees.

A spring evening, 65 degrees, the setting sun…

…a gentle breeze that laps at your warm skin as you sit cross-legged on a checkered blanket. The beautiful flowers of May decorate the ground in colorful clusters. The cicadas sing while the bees are busy buzzing around. It’s a strange feeling; coping with the fact that your life has reached rock-bottom, a total stand-still as you work to heal yourself, yet life continues to move, to grow, to thrive. It’s inspiring in a way. You are accompanied by Suguru. He managed to get you out of the house after weeks of rotting away inside, anchored down by the gut wrenching feeling of heartbreak.

Laughter echoes through the park as the two of you revel in the serenity. Life feels…good. Whole. Worth living. It’s been a while since it has felt this way. It shouldn't feel strange, but it does. Happiness has become a foreign concept to you.

Sitting before you is the woman you love…

…the color in her cheeks has returned, the fullness of her face present once more. After suffering through the many months of thunder and unrelenting downpour in her mind, she has bloomed once more. Finally. You couldn’t pull your attention away from her even if you wanted to, your body and mind drawn to her in the most spiritual way. Even though she’s deep in thought, working to take in her surroundings, her beauty is still very much evident. She isn’t even aware of the power she holds– utterly entrancing. You would do anything to live in this moment forever. You’d do anything for her.

But in this moment…

…with a forgotten feeling of fulfillment creeping its way into your chest as the soft rays of the sun dance across your skin and the sounds of nature swirl through your ears, you realize something. Something so beautiful, yet so fucking terrifying. You love him. Suguru. Maybe it was just your heartache talking, connecting dots that had no business associating.

You brush it off, hide it away, and chalk it up to just being in a vulnerable moment. Your heart had been torn from your body only a few months prior. Anger still rips through your chest when you think about it. Four years wasted on someone you had placed on the highest pedestal, far higher than you placed your family, your friends…yourself. You were blindsided. In an instant, everything you had come to love, the home you felt safe in, the person you thought you knew…ripped away. Like it was nothing at all.

Suguru has done what he could to mend the wounds for you, knowing good and well that if you are left to your own devices you would spiral past the point of return. And as renewing as this spring evening is, you know you will never be the same again.

But you can’t help but fixate on the way he makes you feel. And as hard as you try to push those feelings away, they continue to bubble up. What happens when it finally reaches its boiling point?

You’re only human. You have wants, needs, and desires…

…so who do you turn to for that release? Suguru, of course. Isn’t that what friends are for?

Some would say it’s an evil thing to do; to use someone for pleasure, your own personal gain. A part of you understands that, too. Sure, it may have started out that way, but it’s shifted. And that scares the shit out of you, how you find yourself searching for his validation, the sadness you feel when he leaves in the morning after a night full of fun. So why not tell yourself that you’re just doing what you need to do, rather than what you want to do. Ignoring the fact that deep down you really fucking love it.

It’s not like you’re taking advantage of him and the bond you share…not really, anyway. The two of you are very close, having known each other for ten years. Side by side, maneuvering through a decade of emotional ups and downs; personal dilemmas, weird family dynamics, terrible relationships, fluctuating hormones and unexpected cast changes within your friend group. But the two of you have always stayed consistent, the main characters. Your personalities mesh well, constantly riffing off one another. Never ending laughter and smiles. He's seen you at your absolute worst and vice versa. The true definition of unconditional love. So why not get a little more from him? After all this time, it feels warranted, well-deserved, even. Ignoring what you feel for him, it just makes sense that this is how it should go down. Plus, if it was such a bad idea, why would he agree?

You would accept her…

…in any way she chooses to present herself to you. After years of watching her hurt, you finally have your friend back, and there isn’t anything you wouldn't do to make her happy. Especially with guilt that you still feel, knowing there was nothing you could have done that would’ve saved her from her suffering. So when she suggests the idea of being friends with benefits, you’d be insane to deny her that. Is it a bad idea? Perhaps. You refuse her offer? She slips away, seeking refuge in the arms of another, someone who could hurt her…Never again.

You crave her so deeply that this arrangement seems perfect. Even though you dread the morning after, not wanting to leave her side…jumping on every opportunity to see her, showering her in praise every time you’re nestled deep within her warmth– the way her eyes light up at your word makes you melt. Is it possible she feels the same way? The more you think about it, the less crazy the idea seems. Would she leave you in the dust if you told her the truth? You don’t want to risk losing her. Not if you can help it. But you can’t confess your underlying intentions. Even though a deep part of you hopes for more, it doesn’t even matter at this point. Hide it. You get to be with her in a way that you never have before, and that’s enough for you…right?

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It all transpired after one drunken night playing a confessional card game with your friend group. You were shit-faced and horny, and he wasn’t any better off. You’re honestly surprised his dick still worked that night, but god did it work. You didn’t expect it to go any further after that, assuming it was a one-off occasion. The two of you never really addressed what happened, either, didn’t take the time to have a real conversation about it. Just a quick “hey, do you wanna…” followed by an indifferent “yeah, why not?”, and that was that. Which is probably a good thing, because any more talking would have most likely resulted in your true feelings coming to the surface. But it happened, and is still happening, so who are you to complain? It’s perfect.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

Your friends and random on-lookers alike say you’re compatible, and yeah, they might be right, but fuck that. Why risk the friendship you cherish so deeply for a title? That's idiotic. It's borderline insanity. The minute you put a label on something it all comes crashing down. So, why ruin a good thing?

Don’t overthink it. It’s nothing serious, and it never will be. You refuse to open yourself up to somebody else, someone new. No more getting hurt. You’ve let Suguru into your life in a more meaningful way than you have for anyone else. And that’s far enough.

Does he know every little thing about you? Sure.

Does he care for your well-being? Yeah.

Is he attentive, thoughtful, and supportive? Of course…it is Suguru after all.

But so what? That's what friends are for.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You and Suguru see each other frequently, at least three times a week, whether it’s just a normal hangout or…a hangout. You just get what you need and go; a good laugh, dinner and a movie, casual drinks, or a heaven-sent dick appointment. You both seem content, enjoying one another’s company and…bodies…and minds and souls.

Fuck.

It’s hard to ignore your totally natural, human need for deeper intimacy. But you try to, and damn do you try hard. It would probably be best for you to stop hooking up with Suguru and just go back to how things were.

You can’t go through this. Not again. You’ve already shifted the perfectly normal dynamic you once had into something deeper. Something…real. There’s no turning back now. So you continue to hide behind your ego, fighting off every demon known to man in hopes that this will all just go away.

You’ve been somewhat successful in suppressing your feelings, molding them into something more manageable. You are best friends, with the addition of benefits. Simple. Nothing more, nothing less. You pretend to be ignorant of Suguru's awe-inspiring beauty. How his energy is absolutely addicting, the way his lingering touch burns your skin so beautifully. He makes you feel seen for everything you are and appreciates you for everything you’re not. That sentiment alone propels you through the unexplored cosmos, crossing the line between reality and nirvana as starlight dances across your skin.

Not to mention, when you two are actually fucking? It's like two parts of the same soul finally meeting after centuries of arduous searching. You don’t know where your body stops and his begins, entangled in the most profound way.

God. You sound insane. This is no way to view a friend…your best friend, at that. Get it together.

What would you even call this? Touch starved? No, he touches you plenty…and in all the right places, too. Is it desperation? Your insatiable need for love? Karmic punishment for all your failed relationships? The corny trope where you end up falling for your best friend? As much as you want to fight against the feelings you have for him, it’s too late.

Whatever. Just play it off. You refuse to let your walls down. And you’d hate to give Suguru the satisfaction of being the one who commandeered heavy machinery and sent a wrecking ball toward your emotional fortress.

If you don’t acknowledge your feelings they’ll just cease to exist, right? Yeah, that’s how it works. And it’s a super healthy coping mechanism, too.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

All this deep pondering and emotional soul searching has got you worked up. You decide to see if Suguru wants to come over. Not because you miss him, or anything. It’ll be nothing more than a casual hook up. Dick only, no feelings.

You catch yourself giggling at his messages. Gross. You brush it off with a shake of your head, a violent wave of self awareness washing over you.

I'm not going through this again. I refuse.

You read the messages over and over. Do you seem desperate? Do your texts carry the perfect amount of indifference? Whatever. It doesn’t matter, it’s just Suguru, anyway. He's stuck around this long, it would take a lot to scare him off, now.

The plan’s in motion, and you’re going to have a good time tonight. You feel your heart rate spike at the thought of seeing him. That's a totally normal reaction for someone who has no feelings involved, right? Just friends…right?

Suguru chuckles as he reads your response. Excitement floods through his body in anticipation. Is it finally time to confess? His own eagerness catches him off-guard. He can’t. It’s too soon. He takes a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. Keep it together.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

It’s been so long since the feeling of joy has drifted between these barren walls. You take a swig of your drink, exhaling happily through your nose as the sweet juice dances with the sting of the liquor, warming your chest as you swallow. Leaning back on the couch with one leg kicked up on the coffee table, you absentmindedly swirl your glass as you gaze at Suguru.

“I’m really happy to see that you’re doin’ better,” he muses, taking a sip before setting his cup down. You offer him a small nod paired with a gentle smile, looking back at the drink nestled between your fingers; the ice that’s creating condensation on the outside, the way the sun seeps between the half-open curtains in your living room, the cooing of birds just beyond your window panes. Quite frankly, you’re trying your hardest to focus on anything but him. Ignoring the thrum of your heart every time you look into his eyes, pretending the smooth cadence of his voice doesn’t make your body tremble.

Say you do confess? What then? Is that really something you want, anyway? Or is it just nice to lust after someone? No, it’s not that. You really do love him. You haven’t even considered the possibility of him reciprocating these feelings, and odds are if he does, you’ll just run for the hills, not willing to open your heart up again. Your last relationship destroyed you. There’s no way you’ll allow someone to fill that void. Not with the possibility that it’ll all be a farce.

After a moment of silence, you finally speak up. “Me, too. And it’s all thanks to you, Sugu.” You finally meet his gaze, and it’s as if his eyes are attempting to pierce through you with how intently he’s looking at you. His expression quirks as if to ask what you mean. You decide to test the waters a bit. Fuck it.

“You…you’ve made me feel…whole again,” your words come out a bit choppy and drawn out, still battling with your decision to come clean. Your eyes dart around his face before looking away once more. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of if you want to elaborate. Even if you stop here, it’s okay. That’s a totally normal thing to say to a friend who helped you in your time of need.

Your head snaps toward him at the sound of your name. More is said, but you focus on the way he addresses you. He says it so softly, so gently, like the very syllables of your title grace his tongue as they sway from in between his vocal cords. For four years, your name was used against you, weaponized with anger and hatred. But his words are relayed to you with nothing but love behind them.

Your ears are ringing as you stare at him blankly. You shake your head in hopes to clear the thoughts that are clouding it. “Wait…wha? What did you just say? The last part?”

“I said, it’s because I love you,” he smiles as he watches your face flush. Time slows as your heart rate speeds up. You brows furrow a bit, trying to piece together what the hell is going on. A million thoughts spin through your head as you stare at him. “You…love…me? Like, in a ‘best friends’ kinda way, right?” You’re shocked as he shakes his head. “No. I love you, and I have for a while. In a more than friends kinda way,” he laughs a bit before leaning forward, reaching for your hand. “You love me, too. Don’t you?”

“I-” your words get caught in your throat as his fingers rub against the back of your hand. As calm and collected as Suguru seems on the outside, he is spiraling on the inside. He isn’t sure where this newfound confidence is coming from, but he decides to roll with it. His heart thrums in his chest as he anxiously awaits your response. He has reached his tipping point, wanting nothing more than to finally be able to call you his.

You look down, staring at the place where the two of you meet, the feeling of electricity coursing through your body. A chill runs down your spine before you look back at him. “I-I do. I love you.”

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

You’re laying on your back, your hair fanned out across the bed. Your arms are wrapped tight around his neck as he gently thrusts into you with slow, deep ruts of his hips. His head is tucked into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing across your sensitive skin.

He leans back, looking down at you with a sweet smile, “You are so beautiful.” His eyes run up and down your body, taking in every dip and curve of your figure, before fixating on where the two of you meet. His lips part as he watches himself disappear inside of you, a deep moan breaking through his chest at the sight of your sweet juices coating his length. He rubs intricate circles into your clit, loving the way you sound as your body writhes under his touch.

Tears begin to pool behind your eyes as you gaze up at him, entranced by the way he manages to stimulate every sense in your body. This is what love truly feels like, bestowed upon you by a man who wants nothing more than to fulfill every facet of your life.

He presses his forehead against yours as he continues to pump into you, his movements influenced by nothing more than pure adoration.

The sun bounces off your features, illuminating your face in such an ethereal way. His breath catches in his throat as he watches the way the light makes your eyes glow. You are angelic in every sense of the word. Someone too pure for this realm, unfathomably delicate; sent to this world to be worshiped and protected.

“I love you. So much,” he groans. Every ounce of devotion he has for you is being pumped into your body with every plunge. It’s overwhelming for him. He's nearly bursting at the seams as he makes love to you, moving his hips so tantalizingly slow, but wanting to thrust into you with fervor, to pound the message into you that you are deserving of all love in the world, and that he will be the one to give it to you. But he takes his time, wanting nothing more than to savor you.

Small whimpers break through your throat. “I…ahh!– I love you, S-Suguru,” you moan, whining as his head brushes into your sweet spot, making your back arch off the bed as your chest presses into his. The pleasure raking through you is immeasurable, every neuron in your brain firing off at once. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every single part of him.

He cups the sides of your cheeks, brushing away your tears before placing two soft kisses over each eye. “Why’re you cryin’, my love?” he coos, concern evident on his face as he rubs his thumbs against your face. His hips pause as his eyes dart between yours.

“Just…’m just so happy,” you whisper, scrunching your nose up with a small sniffle before placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles deeply before returning to his original pace.

“You deserve it...just wanna make you feel good, baby,” his hips press him into the deepest parts of you, rubbing against your sweet, gushing walls, but his pace remains deliberate. “You deserve all the pleasure in the world,” his teeth grit ever so slightly as he feels you clench down on him. “F-fuck, baby… fuck. You are just... incredible,” he groans, angling his hips to keep brushing against your g spot.

Even though you’ve had each other many times before, no other instance compares to the way you feel right now. Your body brimming with love, fulfillment…with him. His touch makes you feel reborn, like no one has ever hurt you before. His hands glide across your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, his unyielding passion evident in the way he clings to you, and you to him.

“Sugu…” you gasp as he bottoms out once more. Short pants leave your lips as you feel the tightness in your stomach intensify. “P-please, keep goin’...I’m…gonna cum,” you mewl. His hands reach underneath your body, palming each asscheek as he lifts your lower half off the bed. The new angle makes your eyes roll as stars begin to dance around your head. “Me too…y’feel so fuckin’ good.” The fiction of his pelvis against your clit shoots ripples of pleasure through you. Your nails drag down his back in an attempt to ground yourself, but to no avail. This feels otherworldly. His pace picks up a bit, pushing you to unravel, your body succumbing to bliss. The warmth that engulfs his lengths makes him reach his peak right after you, his hips stuttering as he works you both through your orgasms.

He props himself up on his forearms, making a conscious effort to not collapse on you and crush you with his body weight, though you would most definitely welcome it. He watches as your chest rises and falls, every soft pant that leaves your lips like music to his yearning ears. He can’t bring himself to pull out, loving the way your walls are still spasming around him. You stare into his eyes for a moment, running your fingers down his spine. A gentle moment of silence settles between to two of you. No words are spoken, but they don't need to be.

He begins to get up, but your legs lock around his waist immediately, resheathing him inside of you. “Baby–”, he begins to object, but your arms wrap around his shoulders once more, pulling him down as you kiss the spot below his ear, “Jus’ a few more minutes. Love having you like this.”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest as he smiles into the crook of your neck. “You keep this up and we might just have to go again.”

And you do. For hours and hours, attempting to make up for all the years wasted. Your two souls engaging in the most mesmerizing dance. He is determined to replace all the heartache you feel with pleasure. And he does. You feel nothing but him. And he can’t focus on anything other than you. Rolling around together until the golden hue of the setting sun shifts into a light pink as it rises above the horizon. But it feels like no time has passed at all.

Suguru draws soft circles into your skin, holding you tight against his sweat-glistened chest. Your body trembles from the copious amount of pleasure coursing through you. A gentle peck is placed on the top of your head before he looks toward the ceiling. A sense of contentment washes over him, dancing with the soft pulse of his many orgasms still reverberating through his body. After years of waiting, you are finally his, and he is determined to grant you your well-deserved peace.

Dawning a robe, you sit on your balcony, listening to the birds sing you their habitual 'good morning'. The door slides open behind you, and Suguru takes a seat, presenting you with a cup of tea. A quiet thank you leaves your lips as the two of you take in the scenery before you.

“We should probably get some sleep now, huh?” You ask, turning to him as you take a sip, smiling at the fact that he knows exactly how you take your tea. But, of course he does. It’s Suguru.

He grins, “No…I don’t want to leave this moment behind just yet.” You blush, reaching your hand out to grasp his.

“Me neither.”

In his eyes, you are precious, the most important person in his life. The deep-rooted fear of not being worthy of love is disproven in the form of Suguru’s undying loyalty to you. He has waited years to be with you, and he would have waited years more. And as the two of you sit together, with your fingers intertwined and heartbeats in sync, you know there is nowhere else you want to be…no one else you want to be with. An unfamiliar feeling of safety creeps into your chest. You’re in good hands now.

Maybe opening yourself back up to love wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

author notes: this fic is incredibly self-serving...but i really needed this. i just want a pretty boy named suguru to save me from the heartache i feel rn ugh

my reqs are closed at the moment, but thirsts and chats are always welcome !!

alsoooo !! i just wanted to send out a big big thank you for 700 followers...im literally in shock i cannot believe it. im spinning around my room rn just thinking abt it. yall are amazing n i appreciate every single one of you 🫶🏼

tag list: @anxious-chick @call-memissbrightside @the-weeb-of-the-uchiha @sadmonke

likes, reblogs, and comments are always greatly appreciated !!

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rynwritesreid · 5 months

Text

A night to remember-Spencer Reid

A/N: Okay, firstly thank you for all the love on mind-games, honestly I might post the next chapter next week but I am not sure. Also, for some reason even if you @ is correct and everything, some times tumblr won’t let me tag you :(

Summary: Spencer is back from prison, and he’s changed but not in all the ways you want. You discuss with Spencer something you’ve been wanting to try and he is willing to give it a shot.

Content: Post prison Spencer. Fem!reader. Mean dom spencer. Sub!reader. Pet names/name calling. Degrading kink. Overstimulation. Orgasm denial. Begging. Established relationship. Smut (and some fluff). Spencer asks a lot of time for your consent (as they should, especially if you are in BDSM dom/sub relationship). Begging. Sex toys. Virginal fingering. Handcuffs(slight bondage ig) 18+

Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation

It wasn’t a secret that prison, and the whole Cat Adams situation, had changed Spencer. It was evident in the way Spencer carried himself, the hardened glint in his eyes that pierced through the darkness. The weight of his experiences behind bars had etched lines on his face, transforming him into someone unrecognizable.

He seemed darker; he didn’t seem to mind having to kill in order to protect anymore. He had told you on several occasions that he would kill for you, well his exact words were; “you I’d kill for you. I mean if anyone ever tried to hurt you, I would make sure that’s the last ever thing they’d do.”

Though Spencer had always been protective, this was new, and while the rest of the team knew what he had been through recently had changed him, they had no idea just how much it had changed him.

Spencer had also changed how he was at home; he was no longer ‘vanilla’, but he wasn’t exactly rough. He treated you like a princess; he would not let you go to sleep until he had at least made you cum twice. And while you loved this, you wanted him to be rough with you, degrade you, to spank you and to deny you the pleasure he so often gives you.

But you didn’t know how to bring this up with him. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, or like he wasn’t good enough and that you weren’t enjoying what he was doing. However, you also knew nothing would change if you didn’t bring this up with him.

One evening, as Spencer cooked dinner for the both of them, you couldn't help but find the perfect opportunity to broach the subject. The room was filled with the aroma of his signature dish, a comforting reminder of the old Spencer, and you felt a pang of nostalgia.

As you sat across from him, you took a deep breath and began, "Spencer, I know things have changed since your time in prison, but I need to tell you something that's been on my mind."

He halted mid-stir, his knife-wielding hand trembling slightly. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes, trying to process the implications of your words.

"I want to try something new in the bedroom. I want you to be rough with me, to dominate me, to make me feel as if I'm entirely under your control. I mean don’t get me wrong I enjoy what you do now, but I want this, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Spencer set the knife down carefully on the cutting board, wiping his hand on his apron before turning to face you. The look of concern had faded, replaced by a hint of curiosity and intrigue. He had always been good at reading people; this was no different.

"Is that all?" he asked, eyebrows raised. "You want me to be rough with you? To dominate you?"

You nodded, glancing down at your own hands, fidgeting nervously in your lap. A sudden surge of heat filled your cheeks as you spoke, "Yes, Spencer. I want you to control me. I want you to take me in a way that I've never been taken before. I want to feel completely vulnerable and at your mercy.

It was a request he had never received before, but he saw the raw desire in your eyes. He could sense the urgency in your voice, and the hunger that was burning deep within you.

"Alright, but I need you to trust me," he said, taking a deep breath. "This will be different, and it might be intense."

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. You had never felt this way before, this desperate need to be dominated, to give yourself completely to him. The thought of it made you shudder with excitement.

“Well, we can’t do anything now, we need to eat, so you just sit there and look pretty for the time been while I finish dinner, okay?” Spencer chuckled under his breath, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. The look in your eyes told him that this wasn't just some fleeting desire, it was something that had been simmering deep within you for quite some time. He knew that he had to tread carefully, as this was uncharted territory for both of them.

Spencer continued to prepare the meal, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. He knew that he had to show you the intensity and control you craved without truly hurting you. He needed to make you trusted him completely, and only then could he truly take control.

As dinner was ready, Spencer dished up the meal and served it onto the plates. Sitting down, he took a moment to observe you. Your eyes were filled with a mixture of anticipation and a slight hint of trepidation. He knew you were scared, but he also knew that you trusted him enough to explore this new territory.

"You have my word," he said softly, looking directly into your eyes. "I'll take care of you, and I'll make sure you feel safe and cherished throughout this whole experience. But you have to trust me. Can you do that?"

You looked into his eyes, feeling a wave of relief wash over you at his promise. Trusting him was easy, you knew that. You trusted him with your life, and that was no small thing.

"Yes, Spencer," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I trust you."

He smiled; relief evident in his expression. "Good," he said, taking your hand in his. "Then let's eat, and we'll talk about what this entails later."

As you ate, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you. This wasn't just about trying something new; it was about exploring a side of your relationship that you had never dared too before. You knew it would be intense, but you trusted Spencer to guide you through it.

After dinner, you both sat on the couch, the dishes cleaned up and put away. Spencer turned to face you; his expression serious but gentle.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubts.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. "I trust you, Spencer. I know you'll take care of me."

He smiled, reaching out to cup your face in his hands. "I won't let you down," he promised, his voice firm and reassuring.

With that, he leaned in and kissed you lightly, a tender touch that spoke of the trust and affection that had always been the foundation of your relationship.

You watched as he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours. He kissed you again, this time with more passion, his lips lingering on yours. You could feel his hand gently brushing your hair off your face, his touch sending a shiver through your body.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice low and intense.

You smiled up at him, your heart racing. This was it, the moment you had been waiting for. You knew that it would be intense, that it would test your limits, but you trusted him completely.

"I'm yours," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Spencer slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. He could feel the heat radiating from your skin, a testament to the desire that was coursing through you.

He stood up, towering over you, his body tense with anticipation. You could see the change in him, the alpha male dominance that had been dormant for so long beginning to surface.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.

You nodded, your heart racing. You were ready for this, ready to explore the darker side of your desires.

With that, Spencer reached down and grabbed your hand, pulling you to your feet. He led you to the bedroom, the air thick with anticipation.

As you entered the bedroom, Spencer turned to face you, his eyes burning with intensity. He was no longer the gentle man you had known before, but a powerful and dominating presence that filled the room.

"Kneel," he commanded, his voice thick with desire.

You quickly obeyed, your heart pounding with excitement as you looked up at him. He stood over you, his muscles tense, his eyes fixed on your face.

"You're mine," he repeated, his voice a low growl. "And you will submit to me completely."

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself to him completely. He reached down and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to your feet.

"Take off your clothes," he ordered, his voice firm.

You did as he commanded, feeling a thrill of excitement as you stripped down to your underwear. He watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your body. He knew what he wanted, and he was going to take it.

He took a step forward, touching your skin for the first time. His fingers traced the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

His hands moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.

Spencer's lips met your neck, his tongue tracing the curve of your throat, and his teeth gently nipping at your skin. He moved down to one of your breasts, taking it into his mouth and sucking it gently. You arched your back, thrusting your chest out to meet his lips, and he took the other breast in his mouth as well.

He stood up, undressing himself as he did so. You watched, mesmerized, as his body revealed itself to you. He was everything you had imagined and more.

He stood in front of you, his erection hard and ready. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped you.

"No," he commanded, his voice firm. "I decide when you touch me.”

You looked up at him, your eyes pleading. You wanted so much to touch him, but you trusted him enough to follow his lead.

"Turn around," he commanded, his voice low and seductive.

You complied, your heart racing as you did so. You knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for, and you were ready to give yourself to him completely.

Spencer stood behind you, his hands resting gently on your hips. He leaned in and whispered in your ear, "You're mine, and I'm going to take you in ways you've never imagined before."

He slowly began to touch your skin, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip, the soft skin of your stomach, and the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You shivered, feeling a flood of pleasure course through your body. His fingers moved up to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, kneading them gently. You moaned softly, your desire for him growing stronger by the second.

"You ready for this?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice shaking with anticipation.

As you spoke, you felt his hands on your waist, pulling you closer. His erection was now pressed against your back, a reminder of what was to come.

He guided you towards the bed, gently placing you down on the soft sheets. You could feel the anticipation building inside you, your heart pounding with excitement.

Spencer climbed on top of you, his body hovering above you. He looked into your eyes, his expression intense and full of desire.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked one last time, his voice deep and commanding.

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "I trust you," you whispered. "I'm yours."

With that, he leaned down and kissed you passionately, his lips crushing against yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring, and tasting you, as if to mark his territory.

You could feel his breath against your skin, hot and ragged, matched only by your own. His hips moved against yours, his erection pulsing with desire, and you knew that this was it. This was the moment you had been waiting for, the moment when you would give yourself completely to him.

He slowly pulled away, his eyes never leaving yours. He traced his fingers along your jaw, his touch gentle but firm. You could feel the tingle of his fingers on your skin, a reminder of the journey you were about to embark on.

He reached down and grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. You felt the rush of dominance that flowed through him, a primal instinct that had been dormant for so long but was now fully alive.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "And you will do as I say."

His eyes bored into yours, filled with a fierce intensity that made your heart race even faster. You could see the animalistic hunger in him, the raw desire that couldn't be contained any longer.

He leaned down and nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, causing you to moan in pleasure. You could feel the heat of his body against your own, and you knew that there was no turning back now.

Spencer's lips moved up to your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "You're going to love this."

You felt his erection throbbing against your thigh, a reminder of what was to come. You were ready for this, ready to give yourself completely to him.

He slowly moved his hand down your body, trailing his fingers along your side until they reached your inner thigh. You could feel the heat and desire radiating from his body, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

As his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin near your core, you felt a surge of pleasure and arousal coursing through your body. You arched your back, pressing yourself against him, wanting more.

Spencer's hand continued to explore your body, moving lower and lower until he finally reached your most intimate place. He slowly slid one finger inside you, feeling the warmth and wetness that welcomed him.

You moaned softly, your body trembling with pleasure as his finger moved inside you. He pulled it out and brought it up to your lips, smearing your essence on them.

"Taste yourself," he commanded, his voice deep and authoritative.

You complied, licking his finger clean, savouring the taste of your own desire. It only fuelled your desire for him even more.

"You taste delicious, don’t you," Spencer whispered, his eyes burning with desire.

With his other hand, he slowly pulled your legs apart, spreading them wide open for him. You could feel the heat between your legs growing, and you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for.

As his fingers continued to explore your body, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you like a tidal wave. You knew that you were completely at his mercy and that he was going to take you to places you never thought possible.

Spencer's hand continued to move between your legs, teasing and taunting you with its every touch. You were more than ready for him, your body trembling with anticipation, and yet he seemed to want to savour this moment.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your breath coming quicker and quicker as you felt his fingers slowly enter you again. This time, he didn't stop, pulling out and plunging back in, faster and harder with each thrust.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned, his voice ragged with desire. "I want you so bad."

You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh, throbbing with need, and you wanted nothing more than to feel him inside you.

"I'm going to make you scream my name," Spencer promised, his voice low and sultry.

As he continued to thrust into you, his fingers moving in and out of you in a rhythm that was both maddening and intoxicating, you couldn't help but moan softly, your body arching in response to his touch. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second.

“You look so beautiful like this, surrendering yourself to me, letting me make you moan like the slut you really are.” He whispered; his voice filled with lust.

Your body trembled in response, your arousal increasing with every word. You knew that you were completely at his mercy, and you loved every moment of it.

Spencer's fingers continued to move inside you, pulsing rhythmically with his thrusts. You could feel his erection growing harder and thicker against your thigh, and you knew that he was close.

"I want to hear you scream," Spencer hissed.

Just as you were about cum, he pulled a way, a small smirk on his face.

“Did you think I was going to let you cum that easily?” he asked, his voice filled with amusement.

You gasped, your body flush with disappointment but also anticipation. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, and it was thrilling.

Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to make you beg for it," he whispered, “and remember when you are begging for it, you asked for this, you wanted this.”

He slowly put his fingers back in you, but his pace no longer fast, it was slow, and it was deliberate.

"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, your body craving the release that he was denying you.

“Is that all you’ve got baby? And is this all it’s taken me?” he taunted, his lips still brushing against your ear. "You're going to have to do better than that, little one."

His fingers moved in and out of you, teasing your most sensitive spot, and you knew that he was going to make you beg for it. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your body trembling with the need to cum.

And just like before he stopped, he wasn’t going to give in even though it was killing him not too. Your eyes were pleading with him, begging him to continue, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“Now if I remember correctly, you brought toys to replace me while I was gone, didn’t you?” he smirked, his eyes locked on yours, “I think it’s time to put them to use.”

Spencer’s eyes were scanning the room, trying to see where you might have put them, he knew it wouldn’t have been in any of the normal places. That’s when his eyes landed on the wardrobe, and he looked back at you.

“I can see that look in your eyes, baby. You’re so desperate for it, aren’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “Now did you hide them in there, princess?”

You nod yes, unable to form any more words as you feel a surge of anticipation and desire.

Spencer walks over to the wardrobe and opens it, revealing a small collection of sex toys that you had purchased while he was away. He grabs a vibrator and a pair of handcuffs, his eyes never leaving yours.

"I knew you couldn't resist," he smirks, his voice filled with victory. "Now, let's see how much you can take, shall we?"

He walks back over to you, the vibrator in his hand, and secures your hands above your head with the handcuffs. You struggle slightly, but the desire coursing through you is too intense to resist.

You watch as Spencer approaches you, his eyes burning with hunger. He runs the tip of the vibrator along your sensitive skin, teasing you mercilessly.

"This is going to feel so good, baby," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. His tone is commanding, and you have no choice but to obey.

He turns on the vibrator and presses it against your clit, and you let out a soft moan. The sensation is intense, and you can feel your body responding to it.

"That's it, baby," Spencer encourages. "You're so wet, so ready for me."

He pushes the vibrator inside you, and you feel it pulsate against your inner walls. "Take it all, you slut."

Your eyes roll back as the sensation overwhelms you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. Spencer smiles slyly, watching as you lose control.

"There's my good girl," he purrs. "You're such a dirty little slut."

He increases the speed of the vibrator, and you arch your back, trying to get closer to the pleasure. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body trembling with each pulse of the vibrator.

"Please," you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. "Don't stop."

Spencer grins, his eyes locked on yours. "Not yet baby. I want to see you beg for it."

He pulls the vibrator out of you and turns it off, leaving you desperate for more. You look at him in desperation, your pupils dilated, your breathing ragged.

"Please, Spencer," you beg, your voice shaking with need. "Please, I need it so badly."

He smirks at your desperation, his eyes never leaving yours. "You want it?”

With a sly grin, he takes the vibrator and runs it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You can't help but moan softly, your body arching towards him in response.

"Beg for it, baby," he commands, his voice a mix of desire and amusement. "Tell me how much you need it."

Your breath hitches in your throat, your desire for him growing stronger with each passing second. "I need it so badly, Spencer. Please, I'm begging you."

He chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's my good girl. You know exactly what you want."

And with that, he pressed the vibrator back inside you, and you let out a loud moan of pleasure. It felt amazing, better than anything you had ever experienced before. He continued to tease you with the vibrator, moving it in and out of you, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

"Please, Spencer," you pleaded, your voice shaking with need. "Please let me cum. Please make me cum."

He smirked at your desperation; his eyes locked on yours. "You're going to have to beg for it, my dear," he said, his voice low and sultry.

But you didn't care. You needed this. You needed him. And so, you let out a desperate moan, your body trembling with the need to cum. "Please, Spencer," you pleaded, "I need it so badly. Please make me cum.”

You were past the point of no return, Spencer's commands and denial only adding fuel to the fire. Your body was on fire, desperately craving the release he was denying you. You knew you could take it no longer, and yet, you found yourself begging for more.

"Please, Spencer," you moaned, your voice pleading. "Let me cum."

He chuckled, a wicked glimmer in his eyes. "Not yet baby. I want to draw this out," he said, running the vibrator over your clit, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

"Please, Spencer," you begged, your voice hoarse. "I need it so badly."

He smirked, a devilish look on his face. "But you're forgetting something, you asked for this. You wanted to be treated like a slut, but now you’re begging for me to make you cum?”

You knew you needed to beg for it. You needed to surrender to him, to let him have control over your body, your mind, your very being.

"Please, Spencer," you whimpered, "please make me cum. Please, I can't take it anymore.”

He took the vibrator and ran it along your outer lips, teasing you mercilessly. You could feel the pulsating sensation building up inside you, your body arching towards him in response.

"Please, Spencer," you begged. "I need it so badly."

He chuckled; his eyes locked on yours. "You really are a dirty slut, aren't you?"

You nodded, your mind reeling with the intensity of the experience. Spencer did take some pity on you; he could see your eyes were filling with tears and he did love to watch you cum.

"That's it, baby," he whispered, his voice full of desire. "Beg for it, let me hear how much you need it."

You choked out the words, your voice rough with need. "Please, Spencer. Please make me cum. I need it so badly."

He smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "Well, aren't you the perfect slut?"

With that, he turned on the vibrator and ran it over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back, your hips bucking against the vibrator.

"That's it, baby," he urged, his voice filled with command. “Cum for me, letting me see what I can do to you.”

And with that, you felt the orgasm building up inside you, closer and closer until you couldn't take it anymore. You let out a loud moan of pleasure, feeling the waves rush through your body as you finally succumbed to the desire that had been building up inside you.

"That's it, baby," Spencer said, his voice filled with triumph. "You're mine, every bit of you, and you'll never forget this moment."

You lay there, panting and sweating, feeling completely spent. Your body was trembling, your mind was still reeling from the sensations you had just experienced. You felt like you had been pushed to the limit and beyond, but you also knew that you had never felt more alive.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, you couldn't help but feel a sense of submission, a feeling of being completely under Spencer's control. You knew that you had begged for it, and you had enjoyed every moment of it.

Spencer leaned down and kissed your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "That was incredible, baby. You'll always be my dirty little slut."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of pride in the role you had played in this scene. You knew that you had given him exactly what he wanted, and that feeling of power was exhilarating.

“Now I am going to go get some water, because that was intense.” You watched as Spencer got up to go get some water, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for him.

You knew that Spencer was also going to need so aftercare, because that was his first time doing something like this, but you also knew you were going to have to drink before you could do anything.

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1K notes · View notes

sukunarii · 8 months

Text

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader Warning: (Spoiler from chapter 216!)

Synopsis: (Name) was kidnapped by Yorozu

A/N: It's been a while oops, but I was suddenly inspired to write this fanfic after rereading all the Sukuna scenes. Everything that Sukuna has done lately in the manga and Shibuya in anime coming soon too, no words can express how happy I am 😍😍

“Oh dear, you’ve switched skins? Why don’t you change your face back?”

Sukuna was unamused and ignored her, “Yorozu, where is (Name)?”

“How cruel Sukuna, you’re finally reunited with your future wife after a thousand years and you’re asking about another girl?”, Yorozu taunts back but clearly bitter by the King of Curses’s reaction.

Sukuna was starting to grow impatient, he has no interest in Yorozu’s antics and without a warning, he attacks Yorozu. With his incredible speed, he appears right before her in a split second and lands a solid kick on her torso which sends her flying backwards but she manages to stay on her feet.

“What do you want, Yorozu”, he calls out to her.

Yorozu appears barely affected by the kick and sticks her tongue out, “Bleh, You know what I want. I want to be the one who kills you and I want you to be the one who kills me. This is true love. And if you’re alive after I win, you will let me be your wife.”

“Whatever you want,” Sukuna says, “If I lose that means I am dead and didn’t protect (Name). If that happens it doesn’t matter what you do with a corpse.”

“I heard you say it!” Yorozu’s lips twitches up in an evil smile, “I’ll be your true wife, you will marry me then I will dispose of that annoying girl, maybe cut her up bit by bit and make her unrecognizable later.”

“Later? Do you really think you’ll still be around?”, Sukuna says, rage clearly in his eyes. No one talks about his (Name) like this, especially not to his face. But the King of Curses keeps his composure and despite his anger, a smirk finds its way on his face. Sukuna bends down and makes the hand sign of a dog “Divine dog” he summons.

From the shadows, the shape of multiple dogs takes form and charges towards Yorozu. Yorozu dodges them and tries to counterattack Sukuna but her attack fails to reach him.

“What is this?” Yorozu shouts with anger, “This isn’t your cursed technique! You think you can beat me without Malevolent Shrine?”

“No I won’t use that. I won’t need it,” Sukuna replies.

Yorozu was pissed, “Fine. I will give you (Name).”

Yorozu effortlessly jumps up to the top of a light pole to distance herself from Sukuna. She pulls out a cube from her robe and makes the hand signs to unseal it. Suddenly the cube emits a shadow and (Name) appears. Yorozu holds (Name) by her neck, hanging her mid air and her feet frantically kicks trying to get herself free, “Still not going to use Shrine?”, Yorozu calls out to Sukuna while her grip on (Name)’s neck tightens.

In a quick motion, Sukuna lunges towards Yorozu and punches her but Yorozu jumps off from the light pole while hands still gripping (Name). However, she notices that Sukuna has already summoned Round Deer which is waiting to attack Yorozu from the ground. Swiftly she let’s go of (Name), and the girl screams as she falls. Yorozu sends a wave of attack, aiming it to where (Name) will land to ensure that the girl will be finished.

(Name) closes her eyes, readying herself for the fall but instead, she falls into a warm and familiar embrace.

“(Name), I’m sorry I was late,” Sukuna says.

(Name) opens her eyes to see that she is safe in Sukuna’s arms. However, it seems that the last attack Yorozu sent hit Sukuna as there’s a deep wound on his shoulder, he used himself to shield (Name). But Sukuna was not concerned by it at all.

“You have a cut on your beautiful face,” he says while looking at (Name) and he passes his hands over the cut and uses reverse curse technique to easily heal it up.

“Sukuna, I’m sorry I was careless,” (Name) starts.

“Shhh,” Sukuna shushes her, “Let’s go home.”

Behind them, Yorozu interrupts the couple, clearly jealous, “Where do you think you’re going Sukuna? This fight isn’t over yet. I am going to be your wife, I am going to be the one who will show you what love is. Who is she to you anyways?”

Sukuna doesn’t bother turning back to look at Yorozu. His eyes are fixed on (Name) in his arms, “She is my queen.”

“Haa?”, Yorozu calls out, pissed, “I’m gonna fucking kill her then kill you, I won't allow any mistresses in this marriage,” Yorozu shouts as she charges at them.

Sukuna doesn't seem to care. His attention is already removed from Yorozu. With (Name) still his arms, she is the only person in his world. He has no interest in giving any more of his time to Yorozu.

Sukuna, mumbles, “With this treasure, I summon…”

Mahoraga appears from the shadows and towers in front of Yorozu. "You're gonna use this to finish me off? How dare you Sukuna!" Yorozu shouts at him as she engages in battle with the Shikigami but she is no match for Mahoraga's powers. She screams and pleads while getting defeated by Mahoraga but it all fell to deaf ears.

(Name) still in Sukuna's arms, quietly says “You don't have to carry me Sukuna, I can still walk.”

“My queen should rest,” Sukuna replies and gives her a soft kiss on her forehead, “I’m never letting you go.”

Being the King of Curses, Sukuna has attracted a lot of admirers. But he was indifferent to all of them. The only person he cares about other than himself is (Name), his queen.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #im a little rusty ngl

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buttertrait · 10 days

Text

thank you all so so much for 1.5k followers!! as a little thank you i decided to make some more base sims!! i did this a little while ago and it was so much fun so i decided to do it again :)

🐸rules!

you can:

give them names, traits, aspirations, and pronouns (the ones they have currently are just place holders so feel free to change them)

you can make minor changes to them to fit your sim style just please dont change them so theyre completely unrecognizable

you can change their eye and hair colour

you can make them into actual occults

you dont have to make over all of them, its entirely up to you whether you do one, two, or all four!!

use the hashtag #buttersims2 and/or tag me so i can see all of your lovely makeovers!!

you cannot:

claim them as your own

change their skin tone

download (mediafire, pick and choose)

pictures taken with my default skin and default eyes

#i cant wait to see people's makeovers last time it was so fun just seeing the different ways people made them over!!#buttersims2 #ts4 #ts4 cas #ts4 screenshots #ts4 sim dump #the sims 4 #sims 4 #my sims

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jordanemb · 1 year

Text

joel miller - our little secret

summary: you begin a secret relationship with joel while living with bill and frank

joel miller x female reader

warnings: making out

word count: 1553

---

It had been around 3 years since you started living with Bill and Frank and in those past 3 years, you have felt the safest that you had ever been.

Ever since the outbreak began, your life had never been stable and you were constantly losing the people you loved. You deeply missed the mundane things you would do in your life before such as running errands, going to class, and even doing laundry.

You were ready to end it all until one day, Frank had found you trapped inside of one of Bill’s many traps and saved you. He always told you that he had been trapped the same way.

At first, Bill wasn’t very fond of you. He didn’t trust you and believed that you would overtake his base camp one day due to your young age, although you would never think to do such a thing.

Frank had always been welcoming and kind to you and it took Bill a little longer to warm up to you.

Now, you felt as if you, Bill, and Frank were a little family.

You followed the same routine everyday: Wake up, change, eat, do your various chores around the neighborhood, eat, and go to sleep.

Not much had changed over the past few months until Frank had announced that he had been talking to a woman over the radio.

This made Bill livid.

He did not want to be in contact with anyone else. When he had planned his base, all those years ago, he planned for it to be just him. Then Frank. Then you.

Bill didn’t want a random woman finding the location to his base and bringing trouble. He did not trust her one bit.

“Come on, Bill,” Frank pleaded, “She could have the resources that we desperately need.”

“I don’t want to hear it, Frank. This is my home and I don’t want any outsiders coming in,” Bill said sternly.

“We were outsiders once too,” Frank said softly, taking Bill’s hand.

“That’s different,” Bill looked away.

“Please, Bill, all I’m asking is that you consider it. This could be very beneficial to us. Think of Y/n, she hasn’t seen anyone besides us in a very long time,” Frank said, having the last word.

A few weeks passed by and the day had come for the two outsiders to make a visit to your home.

Bill had been reluctant to let them visit, but after Frank's endless pleading, he agreed on one condition. That condition was that they would not know of your existence.

Bill did not know these people’s true intentions and he desperately wanted to protect you.

From what you had gathered from eavesdropping on Frank’s radio conversations with the two, there is a man and a woman coming to visit. The woman’s name is Tess and the man is called Joel. You were pretty sure that they were in a relationship from hearing the way they talk to each other, but it was never confirmed.

Frank and Bill had set up a nice table in their front yard, aligning it with your window so that you could watch the exchange.

Even though the two were not going to see you, you still put on your nicest outfit which consisted of a simple black dress and a jacket to keep yourself warm. You put your hair back in a braid and put on some old lipstick that you had once found in one of Bill’s drawers.

You waited patiently at your window until you heard the sound of two unrecognizable voices.

Outside of the window, you could see a woman with long, light brown hair walking with an older man who also had brown hair.

They all sat down and began discussing things which you deemed boring such as where their camps are and what they had to offer.

You were about to get up and go find some other way to entertain yourself until you looked out of your window and made eye contact with the man, Joel.

Your heart dropped as he looked up at you with a blank stare. You weren't sure if he even registered that you were there but you prayed that he didn’t.

You saw him open his mouth to say something, but then he looked back up at you and decided not to.

His eyes stared straight into yours and he was not breaking eye contact until the woman he was with, Tess, tapped him on the shoulder.

“Is everything ok, Joel?” She followed his gaze and you immediately ducked down.

“Yeah, sorry, I just thought I saw something,” He said, shaking her off.

“Anyways,” she broke the awkward silence, “We really appreciate this, Bill and Frank. I do hope we are able to help each other, but Joel and I need to get going before curfew.”

“Of course, please keep in contact on the radio, we are looking forward to it, right Bill?” Frank smiled at Tess, nudging Bill.

“Sure,” Bill mumbled, not making eye contact.

The two of them left as Bill and Frank began cleaning up the table.

As soon as you were sure that the two were truly gone, you made your way downstairs and asked Bill and Frank how it went.

Frank went on and on about how much he enjoyed the company while Bill stood there silently.

You smiled at Frank's enthusiasm as you helped them clean up.

A few months later, Joel and Tess had been regularly trading with Bill and Frank. It was a great help to you because they brought different foods that you never thought you would be able to eat again.

Even though Bill and Frank were beginning to completely trust Joel and Tess, you were still not allowed to meet them.

You kept asking them when you could, but they would always brush it off, going on about how unsafe it was for a young woman in this time.

One day, Bill and Frank had taken a short trip to the paint store across town so you decided to go to the garden in the front yard to help out with the crops.

“I knew I wasn’t buggin,” you jumped at the noise.

You held the shovel that you were using in front of you to protect yourself.

“Don’t come any closer!” you tried to sound intimidating, “I’ll hurt you, I swear it.”

“Darlin, if I wanted to kill you, I already would have,” the man stepped closer, his hand on his gun holster.

“Joel,” you said, recognizing the man.

“Now, what’s Bill and Frank hiding a pretty woman like you for? What’s your name?” he asked, taking another step closer.

“Just wait until Bill sees you. You’ll be in trouble then,” you tried to sound threatening.

Joel started laughing at this, “I ain’t scared of Bill. Now, answer my question, darlin.”

“Y/n.”

“When I saw you, I thought I was goin crazy. But here we are,” he took another step forward.

“Bill is coming back and he will hurt you,” you threatened again.

“I’m not here for trouble, darlin, I just came to pick up my supplies,” he put his hands up.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You saw Bill approaching behind Joel with his gun up.

Joel gave you one last look and then put his hands up, “I swear I’m not lookin for trouble, Bill. I just need my supplies, as we discussed last week.”

Bill inched closer to Joel with his gun raised, “Stay right where you are and I’ll get it. If I find out that you have done anything to Y/n here, you and Tess will be dead.”

“I know, I know, Bill. As I said, I just need my supplies,” Joel tried to sound calm.

Bill grabbed the supplies for Joel and he made his way back to the QZ.

A few months later, you were braiding your hair when you heard the very familiar voice of Joel from your window.

It was another scheduled day for Bill and Frank to exchange supplies with Joel and Tess. These days had soon become the only things you were looking forward to because it was your only chance to see Joel.

“Hey, darlin,” you heard from behind you.

“Joel!” you exclaimed, walking over to him.

Joel wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.

“I can’t get you out of my head. I had to see you,” he said.

You blushed and looked up at Joel, “How did you get away?”

“I told them that I had to use the bathroom,” he laughed.

Tess was still oblivious of your existence and Bill and Frank were becoming suspicious of you and Joel’s relationship.

You kept denying it, but they still were still doubtful.

You were envious of Tess because she got to be around Joel so much while you only had minutes with him once a week.

“What are you thinkin about?” Joel asked, leading you to your bed.

“You,” you smiled at him, sitting down on the bed.

In response, Joel softly kissed you as you got on his lap.

He pulled you in and a smile formed on your mouth.

“I wish we didn’t have to hide,” you pulled away.

“I know, darlin, I know.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fluff

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bouncybongfairy · 14 days

Note

Werewolf Ghost looses control on the full moon and fucks the new recruit. New recruit doesnt know who it was cause they were face down in the dirt the whole time getting the best fuck of their lives.

Brainrot

Animal Like Rage

Werewolf Ghost x Fem Reader

Summary: As a new recruit you hear alot of tales and stories about Ghost on the feild. You chalked it up to overexaterations based on his intimidating apearance. After being paired for a mission with him, you see first hand these account, if anything played-down.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Rough Smut, Sex in Forest, Masocistic Ghost, Blood Kink.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Everyone knew that there was some underlying reason why they called Simon ‘Ghost’. As a new recruit you heard stories about seeing Ghost do remarkable things on missions. Ripping a man's throat out with his teeth. Beating men twice his size into an unrecognizable pile of messy flesh. While hanging out with other recruits, they would exchange rumors heard about him. After hearing all the tales you came to the conclusion that it was all just over exaggerations. Maybe you were just telling yourself that in order to comfort yourself for the upcoming mission you had with Ghost. All your friends were making a big deal of it.

As if he was going to chew you up and spit you out or something. The two of you were driving towards the perimeter you’d be guarding. It was actually quite a picturesque section of forest. Lots of trees and wildlife living among them. The mission was to simply look out for the assailants if they fled in your said direction. The two of you both knew it would be a boring night. The sun had set about an hour ago, and the moon was beautiful. Full and completely illuminated the sky with its burnt yellow tone.

“It’s really nice tonight right I mean, look at the moon-” you started to make conversation but then realized Ghost was no longer with you.

Your initial reaction was that he was fucking with you. Trying to pull a fast one on you so he could entertain his friends with a story of a gullible recruit. You called out his name a couple times over coms but got no response. Yelling his name out wasn’t an option, seeing as that could give away your location. For about 20 minutes you continued to check the perimeter of the area but to no avail. Eventually you decided to go into the forest to look for him. Starting to get uneasy, feeling like you were seeing things out of the corner of your eye. You stumbled across both of Ghost’s guns placed upright against a tree.

Immediately you bend down to investigate the scene. As soon as your knees hit the ground, you felt someone on top of you. Hitting the ground so hard, it knocked the wind out of you; rendering you completely disoriented. The taste of copper started to flood your mouth. Immediately you assume it’s one of the target’s men. Especially when he ripped the radio off your vest. You reach down for your knife and go to fight back. However, he uses his palm against your back; shoving your upper body against the dirt. You tried to get up but the person’s strength was unparalleled, like a cement wall. Heavy breathing and growls could be heard from above you.

Ghost’s mind was wrapped in a fog of lust and greed. Ever since he first saw you, he knew he wanted to lay much more than his eyes on your body. He had so much pent up sexual aggression that he’d been carrying for weeks. He was practically shaking with anticipation, he ripped your pants off. His claws leave abrasions on your hips and upper thighs. Blood starts to create droplets along the vertical lines. Only to be smeared by his hands gripping your sides, lifting your body and forcing you to change positions. Grabbing your hips and forcing you onto your knees. The dirt and mulch from the forest floor cutting up your skin.

He grabs your ass and spreads you apart, watching as you desperately try to get away. Not wasting any time, he shoves his cock into your entrance. Loving the way you squirm and clench around him; not used to the burning and stretching. Most of you was scared but there was a small part that found this exhilarating. Being bent over in the middle of the forest while you were supposed to be on guard. Apart of one of the deadliest task forces to ever exist but still being used like a bitch in heat.

He began rocking his hips in and out of you, loving how your tight pussy hugged his length. Like you didn’t want to let his member go. His bloody hands grip onto your ass, his claws digging into the soft flesh. He was growling and snarling; drool dripping from his mouth and onto your back. He’d been watching you for a while, walking around the barracks practically half naked. He’d been waiting for an opportunity to get you alone and when he found out you two were together on this mission… It was like fate was trying to satisfy his hunger. He loved watching you, completely in submission for him. Your face was buried in the dirt and your blinks were slow. Gradually becoming more braindead and pliable. So cock-drunk that you were pushing your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Such a little pain slut, you want more?” he asked, voice raspy and low.

His thrusts were so hard his thighs were spanking your ass, starting to leave the skin reddened and raw. His hip bones leave bruises from them assaulting your skin. You were going in and out of consciousness, his tip hitting your cervix is what brought you back whenever things went black. He was starting to get sloppy, losing rhythm and frantically groping your body. Pushing your body flat against the ground and pile driving you. You never felt someone so deep inside you, like he could literally rip through you.

Having no control of the situation but loving every fucking second of it. The burning feeling in your stomach boils into your climax. Holding your breath while trying to rub yourself against the ground; overstimulated and desperate for any type of friction. Seeing you becoming so disheveled and desperate made him cum. Letting his body weight fall onto you, bucking his hips and growling into your ear. Once he’d finished up, he got the both of you dressed and carried you back to the safe house. Where you were treated for injuries sustained by a ‘animal attack’.

#cod ghost #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty smut #cod #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost x y/n #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley imagine #tw blood

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aphroditesmoon · 3 months

Text

lacrymosa [part 2]

clarisse la rue x fem!hecatecabin!reader [boarding school au]

PART 1

summary: you were sent to a prestigious boarding school to be rid from your father as a burden, but when strange things begins to happen upon your arrival, you wonder what truly lies behind the school walls. And as you attract attention from an infamous student, your plans to lie low is disrupted for the semester.

warnings: nightmares, a lil argument, enemies to lovers in a way.

a/n: under a special request, Olivia's name has been CHANGED to Tella, i hopenyou guys don't find the change too weird! And thank you for the love for this series so far, I hope u all can be patient with me writing every part in my own time🩷

wc: 6k

taglist: @bbybubbles @asvterias @kyuupidwrites @lyzsaphrodite @priyajoyy @yourmom-25s-blog

Something was not right. The thunderstorm outside felt unreal, the lightning struck again, and you only saw white slashing in front of you through the glass.

“Get away from the window, sweetheart.” A female voice you’ve never heard of, advised you. You turn around at the same time you felt her hand grip your shoulder.

“Mama?” You’ve seen her before. Of course you had. In pictures, and albums. But you’ve never heard her speak. She pulls you back onto the velvet chair that sat in the middle of the living room. Everything was unrecognizable. She and the place both was.

“What did I tell you about standing too close to the window? It’s already cool enough here- Oh, see? Your fingers are freezing.” True to her words, your fingers were pruning up.

Your mother’s hands loosened from your arm as she walked back into the kitchen. “I’m making some hot cocoa, do you want some?”

You didn’t respond, too busy examining your surroundings. The structure of the building gave you a sense of deja vu. And the view outside, even through the rain and storms, brought out a sinking feeling in your chest.

You walked back towards the window and saw a glimpse of yourself and flinched back. You’re a child.

It registered to you then that it was all a dream. And more fear erupted from your chest. Were you supposed to be this aware in dreams? It’s never happened before. And yet as you eye the pavement outside being splashed with water whilst your mother called for you from the kitchen, you knew it couldn’t be real.

This is a dream. This is a dream. This is a dream.

You pinched yourself, and still found yourself unmoving.

There is a statue outside on the grounds. A tall white something, you can't tell. But even in the fog and drizzle, it stands magnificent in all it's glory.

The third time your mother called for you, you turned towards her.

Her face glitches as she nears you with a mug in hand. A colorless mug, changing colors the same way her face changes too. You took a step back, frightened. But as your mother cocks her head to the side in question, your feet halts in its place.

“What did I tell you about the window, darling?”

“Mama?” you asked again, against your own resistance. Your mother smiled and moved closer. She wore a necklace with a circular shaped object that laid on her chest. It had rubies on it’s edge, and a triangle cut out in the middle, like a button you could push. It stood out like your mothers dark black eyes that bore no reflection.

“What did I tell you about standing too close to the window, sweetheart?” She asked again, stoically despite her toothy smile.

She glitched again, and for a moment, you thought her face had cracks all over it, filled with red burning glow that looked like lava.

Your hand itched to touch her, to pull her by her collar and scream, you are not my mother. To hug her, to cry in her chest and ask her why she left you.

But instead, you just stood there and hear her calling out for your name again.

The last call clashed with the sound of a thunder, and you felt yourself jump as your shooked out of your nightmare.

The earth below you felt like it had broken into two.

It was raining. It was actually fucking raining.

And for some reason, you looked up to the sky and felt rain water pouring down your whole entire body as lightning struck again from the clouds.

You were standing outside your school building at god knows what hour, in the rain.

“What the hell are you doing?” A thunderous voice shouted from behind you.

You twist your neck to look back, and found the last person you wanted to see in this kind of situation. “Clarisse.” You breathed out with tired eyes.

She stands under the roof of the dorm building, far from you, but close enough to be able to hear her yelling.

Clarisse sprinted towards you from your left with an umbrella that wasn't really standing a chance with the heaviness of the wind and water. Immediately, she pulled you under the pathetic excuse of a shelter and stared at you in disbelief, open mouthed and weirded out.

“Are you insane?” She bellowed out, somehow loud enough to hear. “I- I don't know what happened.” You shouted back.

“What do you mean?” She was beginning to pull you by your arm towards your dorm building, the two of you skipping quickly until you're finally in safety.

“I just woke up and I'm here.” Clarise took the umbrella and harshly flapped it to her side and tried wringing the water out from it. “You sleepwalked?” She asks as she's squeezing the umbrella.

“Yeah.” She then placed the umbrella against the walls of the ground floor, along with the other umbrellas placed there for emergency before taking you by the hand again towards the elevator.

“This has got to be the craziest case of sleepwalking, you could've had hypothermia.” She says it like it's your fault. You almost snapped back at her to say that she shouldn't be awake at this time too, but had the sense to keep your mouth shut. “It's never happened before.” You say instead.

“What never happened? Sleepwalking, or sleepwalking out of a building?”

“Both.” She nodded with an ‘ah’.

The elevator dings open, and her hand slips away from yours as she enters it before you.

“What were you doing awake anyways?” You finally ask her.

“I went down to use the water dispenser to fill up my bottle, then I saw a crazy girl in short shorts in the middle of a storm.”

Your cheeks heated up when you remembered that you were still in a tank top and shorts. A city girl's definition of pajamas.

“Thanks.” You muttered awkwardly, she acknowledges it with another nod.

Once the elevator stops at her level, she exits it and stops in her tracks when she realizes you weren't following her. “Come on.”

“I'm on level 20.” You say dumbly.

“I know, I've seen your dorm. You should come change at my place, unless you want to have to explain to your roommates why you're soaked at 3am.” You considered her proposal quickly and steps out before the doors could close.

“What about your roommates?” You asks.

“Don't have any.” She responds, clicking her tongue.

“Seriously?” She hums positively. “Legacy students have solo rooms.”

The walk towards her room was silent. You let your eyes wander through the red coloured halls and the decorations hung on them. She was an Ares girl, that one is obvious.

There are shields and trophies inside glass boxes along the way to the corridor, and you could assume that the Ares dorm kids are known for their competitiveness, alongside their ferocity.

Once you reach the end of a corridor, she unlocks the singular door that exists in this corner of the level and shoos you inside, following you right after.

Her room was unexpectedly neat, not that you let yourself really look around.

But it was difficult not to notice the air conditioner along with her much-larger-than-yours closet.

She passes you a new and folded towel for you to dry your hair and body while she searches for something to wear.

“Do you want to take a shower first?” She asks whilst rummaging through her closet. “No, it's fine.” It would be too suspicious if you skipped a shower a few hours after your friends woke up.

“Suit yourself.” She answers before handing over to you a thick Princeton sweater with long sleevss and cuffs with a pair of long cotton trousers.

Clarisse had the decency to turn around as you changed and only turned back around once you were done. “Just give me the towel.” She says. “It's laundry day tomorrow anyways.”

You stand near her bedside table after that, eyeing the small picture frame that sat there in solidarity. There was a picture of her, much younger than she is now, and an older woman with her hands around her shoulder.

“Is that your mom?” You asked. Clarisse walked over and shoved the frame down on the table, a CLACK noise following the action. “Someone's chatty.” She noted. But you thought you heard a slight tremble.

“Right, sorry. I should go now.” You feel whatever friendliness that managed to slip through the cracks ofnyour interaction with her, begin to dissolve.

It was easy to be reminded of who Clarisse La Rue actually was.

“What's the rush, I'm sure the rain water have woken you up quite well.” She replies, sitting down on her bed. “Look, I appreciate the help. But if my roommates wake up and they see that I'm gone, they-”

“They'll think you're using the bathroom.” She cuts you off. “For 20 minutes?” Clarisse shrugs. “Some people have issues.”

You sighed at her answer and felt your feet beginning to hurt from standing up for too long without shoes outside the school. You're tired and easily irritated after what just happened, and her push and pull behavior isn't helping.

“I don't know why you want me to stay, I'm tired, you're tired. And it's almost 4am.” You throw your arms up in exasperation. “I just wanna go back to sleep and act like this never happened.”

“You know, I'm just trying to make sure you're alright. Because despite your objection, that did happen. And that's not normal. So a thank you would suffice.” Her demeanor had changed into frustration, she was not someone who takes rejection well.

“I already thanked you. And I don't need a free counseling session from a bully- who by the way, ripped a drawing out of my sketchbook.” Clarisse's head jerked back at your words. She stood up to properly face you before you could run out of her room.

“Oh that's it, isn't it? I'm such a terrible person and your moral righteousness can't stand it, and yet you dedicated a whole page to my face.” You could no longer tell what she was feeling from her tone of voice. Was she amused or defensive?

“That book isn't yours to see, let alone to take.” You snapped back.

“It has my face on it, of course it's mine to take.” she scoffed, folding her arms together.

“Oh wow, I wonder what else you assume is yours to take with that kind of pretentiousness.” You retorted, laughing dryly at her face.

The smugness disappeared, and for a second, you felt proud.

“You know, for someone I can easily make life living hell for, you're starting to get way too daring. It's not cute anymore.” Clarisse's feet stepped closer to you, until your noses were inches away from each other.

There is fear in crossing the point where you can never go back when it comes to her anger. But you have never been the kind of girl to lay back and take a kick from anyone else.

You're also not the type of girl to think that you owe anyone anything for some common decency.

“I’m so genuinely curious Clarisse, who do you think you are? You're just another girl in this place, like the rest of us. Legacy student or not.”

An unhumourous smile paints her face as she shakes her head at you. “You have no idea who I am. And at this point, I'm starting to think that I should've just left you in the rain to freeze and die.”

“I would've woken up and left anyway, even if you weren't there.” As upset as you are with her, that part specifically caused you guilt to say aloud. She was obnoxious, but she did help you.

“Oh sure, miss tortured artist galloping in the thunderstorm-”

“I wasn't gallop- you know what?” It felt like the 100th time you were telling her off. “I'm actually leaving this time. So, thank you, for helping me, and thank you for your narcissism.”

You gripped the door handle tightly and spared her no glance as you pull it open and walked out away from her. You wanted to slam the door on her face but thought twice when you remembered that it's 4am and someone could've heard you.

You tiptoed your way back into the elevator and up to level 20. The dorm room was unlocked, unsurprisingly so.

The dark room's only source of light is the bright moon glowing numbly through the closed curtains behind Harper's bed. The rain have subsided, all the nightmarish lighting qnd thunder have stopped.

You gently climbed up onto your bed, eager to get under the covers. You could see the shadows of your friends from where you lay. Their silhouette giving you a peace of mind.

If either of them had heard of what just happened to you, they would panic. It's been 2 days, and yet they care for you so easily.

You rub your feet together, trying to diffuse the coldness away.

Tonight, whatever that had happened, felt unreal. But tomorrow all will be well. It had to be.

You had not slept a wink for the rest of the hours before your alarm went off.

There were times where you almost dozed off, but for some reason it felt like your tired body was unable to fully shut down and let go of the main control.

You know that sleepiness was evident in your face, but your roommates said nothing of it as they rose up, preparing to rush for the bathroom before the other girls could.

"Did you change clothes last night?" Harper asks absentmindedly. She pulls her hair up into a bun and grabbed her towel from the spinning chair by her table.

You looked down at the sweatshirt and back up at her. "Oh-uh, yeah. I got cold last night, with the rain and all."

"I figured. I just know the chill out there is gonna be crazy today." The both of them left after that for their shower and secured you a booth to get in to after they were done. Thankfully, there was a bit of hot water left for you to indulge in.

It was exactly what you needed after the horrifics you've experienced through a few hours before.

You had spent the hours before getting up, going over the dream you had. It was rare for you to remember your nightmares, let alone be aware that you were dreaming while you're doing it.

You could also remember small details like the glass window with the giant statue, your mother's necklace and the way her face appeared and disappeared. You've never been a superstitious person, but was there a possibility that dreams like that meant something? Or was it just another lucid dream?

You'd thought that you'd feel comforted, seeing your mother that way, and the way she fussed over you. But all you felt was a strong distinction. An awareness that she was not real, and that she'd never be.

There were 2 other girls in the bathroom with you when you were done showering. One was using the sink on your left, and another was still cleaning themselves up.

You forced the freezing water all over your face, trying to refresh yourself and hopefully make your face look less beated. Looking into the mirror felt like a challenge. The dream still haunts you even now. You almost expect a child to stare back from the glass. And god, how you feel like a child right now, out of place and confused.

After a few more splashes, you wiped the droplets off with your towel and clenched your toes as you walked back to your dorm.

The girls were halfway done getting ready when you entered. Their bags were stacked by the door on the way out. "You're a bit slow today." Tella noted as she struggles to keep her hair up without the strands falling out.

"Couldn't really sleep last night." You told them as you began putting on your plaited skirt. The zip had completely fallen off as you tried to pull it up. You swore aloud and had to restrain yourself from banging your head on your table. Everything was going wrong today. From the 3am sleepwalking to your stupid skirt dysfunction.

"What? What is it?" Harper asked in response to your outburst.

"My zip fell off." You mumbled in annoyance. Her head tilted towards you in concern. "I have a safety pin, I think it'd work. Do you want it?"

"Yes please." You answer. She pulls out a tiny box of safety pins from her drawer and hands you one to use. "Thanks."

"Don't sweat it." Harper was the first to finish. She helped Tella fix her ponytail for the 5th time, slapping her hand away when she tried to tighten it herself.

Once the three of you were all done, you left together, locking the dorm doors and going down through the full elevator.

You had stuffed Clarisse's still clean clothes inside your school bag when they were showering. You planned to return it to her owner, and let that be the last time you'll ever owe Clarisse La Rue anything.

The girls had probably assumed your behavior had something to do with homesickness, as they went on without question. You were grateful for the lack of conversation. The last thing you wanted to do today was talk.

You had questions bugging your mind and the need to isolate yourself. It's what you always do whenever you're feeling disturbed and overwhelmed, you black out from the rest of the world.

Carefully walking down the school halls to your locker, you half expected people to stare at you differently, afraid that someone else might've seen you from last night, but everyone minded their business, and so uou did too.

You were pulling out your books from the locker when you hear Tella turning around to greet someone, taking a step further away from you and Harper. You twist your neck to meet the mystery man who's in conversation with your friend.

Sharing a look with Harper, she only shook her head nonchalantly before leaning closer to you. "That's Luke Castellan." She whispered.

The name was recognised quickly, old conversations with Tella being brought back in memory. "That's the guy she likes?"

Harper nodded. "Well, does he like her back?"

Harper shrugged. "They compared hand sizes, so I think so. But who knows with boys." You made a face at her and nodded warily. "As long as she's happy." You tell her. It wasn't that Luke was unattractive, it's that he sounded so much like a regular teenage boy that you have grown to have an automatic dislike for.

It wasn't his fault that the species of his sex have failed in their entirety.

Harper was about to say something else when Tella suddenly called for you and had gotten closer. "This is our new roommate I was talking about." She says to Luke, gesturing to you.

Up close, you could see that he has a scar on his cheek. He also had dark curls and brown eyes that seemed to fit the whole american sweetheart vibes that Tella was obviously into.

"Hey." You greeted him without any animosity. He smiled and returned the greeting, giving you a small wave. "How do you like it here so far?" He asks.

"Well, it's only been 2 days but I think it's alright." You answer dishonestly. Obviously you weren't going to tell him that this place has conjured some deeply problematic things from inside of you like sleepwalking and attracting assholes.

His grin doesn't falter as he takes in your words. "Not exactly an exciting place, is it? At least you're in good company." You forced out a tight smile for him. God only knows just how exciting it's been for you, and it hasn't even been a week.

You thought of cutting to the chase by telling him it's nice knowing him and walking off before your eyes landed on a girl walking past the lot of you.

Clarisse La Rue kept her eyes straight ahead as she headed for the classroom at the back. Her clothes are still in your bag that's sat on the floor. You picked it up and slung it over your shoulder and excused yourself from all three of them, making Luke and Tella move to the side to give you space. “I gotta go.”

"See you in recess." Tella called out. You raise your arm and give her a thumbs up and keep walking down the same path Clarisse did.

What a coincidence that you two are on the same class today? History is an interesting subject, one you're fully prepared to enjoy. But the thought of being anywhere close to the curly haired girl, makes your stomach feel like they're tied in knots.

You managed to chase after her before she was seated on her desk. And the class was thankfully still half empty since the bell hadn't rang yet. Your mind is racked on how you're supposed to just pass her a plastic of her clothes in the most subtle way possible.

But of course, your mouth had a mind of its own when you impulsively shouted out her name.

Clarisse had just dropped her own bag down against her table when she heard your call. She instantly turned around to face you. "New girl." She addressed you.

She widens her eyes in question. You push the plastic bag in your arms into her chest, and your fingers brush as she takes it from you to examine it. "Oh, this."

"Thank you for the clothes." You say monotonously. Neither of you looked pleased to see each other, but what's unexpected still, is that she also didn't look like she wanted to kill you like she did last night.

Clarisse waved it off and crouched down to keep the plastic inside her own bag.

You stood there waiting until she was gone and stood back up to see you. Something is supposed to be said in a moment like this, but none of you did.

And so with a small nod to enclose the interaction, you spun on your heels to egt to your table. Your feet was locked in place when you felt her hands on your shoulder.

You looked at her with raised brows in expectation.

"This is yours." She says, passing you a folded A4 paper. Your first thought was that this was your drawing that she took. But you hadn't used the kind of paper she was giving. You took the paper suspiciously. “What's this?” You asked.

She only says: “You'll see,” with a shrug.

The moment her grip was lifted from your shoulder, you walked and sat yourself at your desk, and tried your hardest not to turn around.

The bell had just begun to ring outside of the class, and other students were filling into the small space.

Whatever it was, you'd look at it later. For now, it's folded four times more and stuffed into your pencil case.

When one grows up, constantly having to take care of themselves without adult supervision or emotional support, they are also forced to belittle and diminish their own fears in an attempt to rise over their struggles to survive in a hostile environment.

And so you’ve had to learn to do things such as walking home from school alone and risking unwanted attention from men and how to hide a knife under your knuckles for prevention purposes.

And yet as you overcame these fears one by one, only two you had found impossible to fight. And that is your fear of moths and butterflies, and your fear of heights.

And yet, standing up here on the roof, arms placed against the railing and looking down, all you could think of is how beautiful the view was from up here. You could see the closed area of the school from above here. Green grass filled the large space that is guarded behind white walls and a large sign that said ‘NO ENTRY.’

The railing shook slightly, making you jerk back. The cringing noise it made hurts your ear as it vibrates. Taking a few steps back, you figured it’s safer to watch from a distance.

You cocked your head down again, taking one last glance down and tried to memorize the image of the flowery laced garden. Your friends would be looking for you now, you thought..

Your feet moved you to the closed door that awaits for your exits, and yet, as your hand wraps against the holder, the heaviness of it suddenly becomes unbearable. You wiped your hands on your skirt and tried to open the door again, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath. There wasn’t even a lock on this thing. Or was there? You couldn’t remember. You completely let go of the door and sprinted back towards the railing. Was there anyone that could help you?

No, of course not. The area was prohibited for anyone to cross. The same grasses and dying flowers watching you from underneath.

The railing shook again as you scanned the place thoroughly. This time it jerks so harshly that the left side of it completely pulls away from its metal and threatens to fall off. You jumped back just in time to not fall off, but your heart drops so strongly that it feels like you’ve already fallen.

You consider trying to pull back the railing and somehow pressing it back on it’s screw, but the damage was unfixable when you observed it in closer view. You think back to your main problem, escaping this place.

There was no other choice than to simply try pulling the door harder, and to scream for help.

You give all of your strength into pulling. “Help!” You shouted. “I'm stuck on the roof! Hello?”

The door felt like it shook a little, your cramped fingers kept on pulling until you were sure it really was opening. You paused for a minute to squeeze your fingers inside your palms.

“One last try.” You breathed out. Your hands give your best tug while your feet stay on the ground, unmoving. You hear a creak and your heart almost bursts out of hope.

Consistently pulling still, you could actually see the edges of the door sliding through, opening slowly. One, two three-

It opens widely with a slam, you're pushed back until your back hits the ground. Getting back up onto your knees, you rose up and aimed for the door. But the emptiness on the other side of the door held you back.

You gasped loudly. There was no staircase on your opposite. There was no concrete or flat ground for you to land your feet on. Only air and steepness. It was like a never ending hole to fall into, the kind of hole you imagined Alice had jumped inside of to arrive in wonderland.

Panic washed all over you. And as you're pacing around at the roof, you hear someone calling your name. It was help, somebody had arrived to help. The shouting was faint, but you heard it clearly anyways. You returned to the railing and searched for any spot of people, but no one wasn't there.

You hear the voice again, calling your name. It's getting louder, but you're not sure where it's coming from. You yell back on the top of your lungs. “I'm here!” And the response became more vivid.

“Miss?” You hear it like it's behind you.

You snapped your head to your back, nothing.

“Wake up.” The voice insisted. “I'm not dreaming.” You pushed. “This isn't a dream.”

“Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.” The shouting was shrilling, your ears could be bleeding and you'd believe it.

“Wake up.” It screamed into your ear as you knelt down on the ground, covering your ears with both hands.

“Wake up!” You felt hands shaking your back. Your head looks up in a state of disorientation.

“Miss?” It was your biology teacher, bending down to meet your eyes, skeptically watching you.

“Everyone left, sweetheart.” She says, pointing at all the empty tables in the classroom. You hate that pet name. It always sounds so mocking.

This was the last class you had for today, the lack of sleep must've caught up with you. You straightened your back and apologized to Ms. Rhodes for keeping her waiting. She only shook her head and tells you to take care before leaving the classroom.

You looked around the class and tried to remind yourself that whatever you had seen in your mind, was just a dream. It wasn't real. And yet it felt like it, just like the dream you had last night. And in both dreams, you had been aware of the surroundings in ways you shouldn't be.

You wiped your hands over your face and yawned quietly. The clock above the board shows that it's already past 6pm. You cracked your knuckles together and lifted your bag onto your shoulders. If you're quick, you could still make it to the dorm showers before 7.

You stopped by your locker to stack your books inside of it. The hallway is empty, you're not sure how long you fell asleep, but everyone else seems to dread being inside this building more than they needed to.

You think of the vividness of the school landscape from your dream. The place had a staircase that led to the rooftop by the janitor's closet at the back. A small voice encourages you to try and retrace the steps in your dream, just to see how different iit was compared to real life.

But instead of going up the stairs, you notice the space behind it, and ducked your head down underneath instead.

There is a closed door a few steps away from the roof entrance staircase. It was a glass door covered with black plastic and a No Entry sign plastered on it. Those words ring a bell in your head.

You pushed it open gently and was pleased to see that it wasn't even locked. Whoever's trying to guard this place from students obviously isn't very good at their job.

The door opened up just enough for you to slide yourself inside. You weren't surprised to see a room of forests hidden inside.

This must be the garden. It wasn't quite like you dreamed it, but it was accurate enough. It's smaller than expected, and it's much more empty than I envisioned.

You circle the place, paying attention to the roots and veins that have crawled up the walls, stepping your feet on the overgrown weeds and leaves.

You flinched when you hear the leaves ruffles and turn to see the invader. Your shock immediately subsided and morphed into irritation when you saw her.

“Are you following me?” You ask in disbelief.

Clarisse frowned and denies it. “No? I was-?” She takes the time to think of an excuse until eventually she just sighs and shook her head. “Yes, okay maybe I did follow you here- but only because this is forbidden ground.”

“And you're so good at obeying rules?” You sarcastically question, earning an eye roll. “No, really though, what are you doing here?”

“I had a dream about the garden.” Clarisse waved her hands in confusion and frowned deeper. “Okay…that’s great?” You gave up trying to explain to her and focused back on your surrounding.

You tilted your head up at the sky, almost expecting to see the roof and a broken railing, but there is tinted dark glass coves the school roof for the safety of the mids, you thought.}, so all you saw staring back down is a closed building.

“You know, there you used to be a weeping angel here.” Clarisse spoke suddenly. “Hm?”

“A statue. Right in the middle.” She clarifies.

“Did they remove it because of Samara?” You asked. Clarisse's eyes widen and she looks you up and down with her hands on her hips. “Who told you about Samara?”

“My roommates.”

“Of course they did. Can't keep their mouth shut for shit.” Clarise scoffed. You feel overprotective over your friends, knowing them to have good intentions. “Don't talk about them like that.”

Clarisse ignores your warnings and instead moves like she's about to leave. “We should go. The teachers like to do a 360 before locking shit up.” She walks out without waiting. And despite your annoyance, you followed her still.

The two of you quietly walked side by side until you're out of school grounds and entered the dorm building together. There were some girls hanging out on the water fountain and near the elevator, but they paid no mind to either of you.

Clarisse's head is aimed straight ahead, and you consider it the longest she's gone without saying something stupid to you.

Once the elevator stops at her level, she gives you one last glance, her fierce eyes boring deep into yours for that split second. You thought you saw a shadow of a smile ghosting over her face, but before you could confirm, the door closes, and you're on your way to the Hecate level.

After unlocking the door of your dorm, you threw your bag onto the ground and basically swung yourself on your bed, making Harper jump while she's putting on her skincare. “You look like shit.” She tells you.

You snorted and rolled over until you're facing the ceiling. “I feel like it.”

She hummed casually and went on with her business.

You lifted your head up slightly to see Tella, but she's nowhere to be found.

“Where's Tella?” You asks Harper. “Showering.” She responds. “I don't know what's taking her so long, but you'll probably see her when you go to the bathroom.”

You nodded in understanding and began to undress yourself from the school clothes, putting them on the side for washing later.

You then started pulling out your notebooks that had homework in it and stacked it on your desk. Only after you pulled your pencil case out, you remembered about the piece of paper Clarisse had given you.

Curiously, you basically snatched it from inside your case, and unfold the paper from its small size into a large white A4 again.

Inside was the ugliest cartoonish image you’ve ever seen in your whole life.

It's a drawing. A badly drawn girl, half up only, with hair that supposedly, looks like yours. And a nose that didn't have the right proportions for the face size.

You smiled at the image subconsciously. You're sure Clarissebhad given this to you as some sort of trade, her picture for her, and your picture for you. It could even mean a truce between you two.

But instead of stressing over what deeper meaning does her doodles really have, you folded it back and kept it by your night lamp.

“Why are you smiling like that?” Harper asks, you meet her eyes through the mirror. “Nothing, I just remembered something funny.” You lied. She squints her eyes really hard as if she’s trying to read through you for any lies but then gives up after a few seconds of it.

Your smile disappeared as soon as it came, you picked your towel up and acted as if nothing happened and made your way to the bathroom.

What is your stance towards Clarisse? Inconclusive. She’s there behind every ostracizing event that has occurred to you so far. And you wonder just how big of a part does she really play into all of this. Her gaze still burns in the back of your mind, it’s almost impossible to escape her even when she’s not centered around any of the issues.

Should you let things play out in her way or should you keep fighting her off, stubborn to break the cycle of a moth to a flame,

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #dior goodjohn #dior goodjohn x reader #pjo series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader

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keresnotceres · 11 months

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You, With the Watercolor Eyes

Ghost x Civilian!Reader (gn / undescribed)

[sfw] cw(s): heavy angst, mentions of ghost’s backstory, mentioned/implied self harm, disordered eating (aka ghost’s really bad habits).

1.3k words. not proofread. wrote this in, like, an hour.

While on deployment, Ghost has a recurring nightmare -- you’ve fallen out of love with him. The thought pervaded him for weeks, it wrecks him to a point his teammate notices a change in his demeanor, and he’s fallen into his old habits.

When he first woke up, he didn’t recognize the room he was in. Simon tensed under the thin sheet on top of him, hands twitching at his sides as if reaching for his pistol. Finally, he took into account the jacket hanging on the far end of his bedpost.

He remembered that he is Ghost. Simon does not exist here. And yet, Ghost felt his chest tighten as he recalled the dream that plagued him prior.

It was of you, his charming lover, untouched by the terrors of war and bloodshed. But not just your regular self, you were distant, callous. Something had caused you to change, something he didn’t know, something you wouldn’t tell him. He remembered trying to ask you what was wrong, and you only ignored him. It reminded him, briefly, of his father.

It wasn’t until a man with a blurry, unrecognizable face stepped into the room. If he squinted, Ghost could make out a gunshot wound in the middle of his forehead. When you made your way to the man, you fell into his arms, pressed up against him like he was a lifeboat and you were drowning.

“I don’t want you anymore.”

It was your voice, the voice that whispered “I love you“ in the night. The voice that muttered and screamed his name.

“I don’t love you.” Maybe it had been, “I never loved you;” Ghost couldn’t quite recall. Either way, they conveyed the same message: you weren’t in love with him anymore. You were leaving him for another man, one who could be with you, one who could say just how much he loved you all the time.

He couldn’t utter a word to you as you faded from his view, leaving him alone in an imitation of the living room in your home.

The next several days, Ghost felt more removed from himself than usual. The thought of you, the person he would rip the world apart for, the person who gave him something to live for, leaving him stayed with him. It haunted him.

Memories of his childhood surfaced, the thought of your relationship breaking down into what his parents had ripped into his head. When he was alone, Ghost would toss his gloves to the side just to feel his fingernails dig into his palms to try and feel a different pain. Soon enough, it evolved to drawing blood.

Ghost found himself skipping over meals to busy himself with other tasks, the hunger pains providing him with some sort of distraction from the gnawing hurt that the thought of not having you brought. Deep down, he knew that if you knew what he was doing to himself, you would plea him to stop. But the nightmare kept coming back, and so did the need to feel a different pain, and Ghost couldn’t stop.

Weeks later, the nightmares finally let him be. But the thought of you leaving clung to him like a wet shirt.

Ghost’s eyes glazed over the crowd of recruits in front of him, lingering on a few of the most competent-looking ones before he dismissed them. He watched inanimately as they dispersed, several clumping together to form a smaller, condensed group of friends. Others left on their own, likely to go find their own friends.

Ghost found that the others found him, more often then not it was Soap who came barging into his office to talk idly. It hadn’t happened in a few days, Ghost had taken advantage of not having a distraction to bury himself in paperwork, pushing away all the thoughts of you that clouded his mind.

He left the training area of the outside, making his way to his office. It had become some sort of hellish safe-haven. Ghost could slip away for a few minutes and Simon could claw his way forward.

There were very few times he thought of you normally, without the splotchy pain that came from his nightmares. Ghost found a difficult peace in the thoughts of you untainted by his unconscious, he’d caught himself reaching out to nothing as if you were there with him. It was then that the marred version of your relationship returned to him, you weren’t there because you left. You didn’t love him any more; how could you love a man like him?

While he thudded through the hallways, Ghost was unaware of an uncharacteristically silent Soap by his side. It wasn’t until he swung open his office door several minutes later and was stopped from slamming it shut by Soap grabbing it.

Soap frowned at him, stepping forward to push Ghost into his office without touching him at all. Ghost stepped back, disgust tearing at his throat at the thought of physical contact.

The two stood at a standstill, eyes locked, until Ghost was irked enough by the presence of something other than his own thoughts to turn on his heel and stalk over to his desk. He looked back at Soap, the action a silent question of ‘what the hell do you want.’

Soap frowned deeper and shut the door behind him. he crossed his arms over his chest and rocked forward a bit, stopping when he came to decision. “You’re actin’ wrong.”

Ghost’s eyes bored into Soap’s, unfeeling. “Pardon?”

Soap’s eyebrows set, his gaze hard. “Don’t act dumb. Actin’ more heartless than usual.”

Ghost set a hand on the desk, leaning his weight on it. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Sergeant.” His eyes strayed to the papers that littered the desk, organization thrown to the wind.

“Bullshit.” Ghost’s eyes flicked to Soap, a tide of irritation crashing in them. “Tell me.” Soap took a step closer, a look of determination clashing with Ghost’s displeasure.

“Got nothing to tell you.”

“You have quite a lot to tell me, Lt.” Soap stepped closer again, his hands thrown to his sides, one balling into a fist.

“Johnny,” Ghost started, an obvious anger in his voice. “Lay off it”“ Soap glared at Ghost, and with all the exasperation and concern he could mange through a fit of anger, he retaliated.

“Simon,” the same vigor Ghost has used present in his voice. “What the fuck happened to you?” The way Soap spat out the words make it seem more like a statement; Ghost almost saw his father in front of him.

Ghost looked at him, defeated, tired. “Nightmares.” Soap looked utterly unconvinced and Ghost could do nothing but cede to the look on Soap's face. Ghost choked back the urge to conceal his personal life, internally clawing at his chest to stop talking. “My partner.”

It took two words for Soap's demeanor to change entirely. In the next moment, he's suddenly John MacTavish, the military personality is thrown to the side. Ghost considers doing the same, if only for a few seconds of comfort.

“I'm sorry, Lt.” Ghost half expected Soap to say something else, to call him an idiot. “Was it bad? Did they...” Soap trailed off, not wanting to say what they both know he was thinking.

Ghost shook his head, “no. Left for someone else, left nothing behind.” Soap grimaced, his hand raised up slightly, but fell down.

“It wasn't real.” Soap offered his best solace, and it made Ghost scoff a laugh out.

“Sure felt like it.”

“They love you,” Soap's voice was oddly serious, “I know it.” Ghost peered up at Soap, searching his face for a hint of falsity. “You could call, check in. Sure they'd love to hear from you.”

Ghost's mouth twitched, not that Soap could see.

“I'll do it, even.” He offered, a twist of compassion seeped through his words. “But I'll talk about how you've been skipping meals. How you stay long past clock to do paperwork.”

“You will not,’ Ghost sounded almost like his normal self, and Soap smiled at him a bit wickedly.

“Then you better call before I do.”

#cod headcanons #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley angst #simon ghost riley angst #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #mw2 x reader #simon riley fanfic

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biscuitbox23 · 5 months

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The other woman.

Summary: The other woman will spend her life alone…

Authors Note: am back with another fic. I always thought about Lori and Shane and whatever happens, it’s always the song ‘The other woman’ from Lana del Rey. Poor rick :( in this case I wanted it to be like Rick still dealing with the grief and loss of his wife while Y/n fills in the gap because we all know Rick would NEVER EVER cheat on Lori.

Warnings: Suggestive themes but no actual smut comes in (still be cautious with this), angst, unrequited love. If I missed anything don’t be shy to comment on it, please do.

word count: 1.8k

The other woman has time to manicure her nails The other woman is perfect where her rival fails And she's never seen with pin curls in her hair anywhere.

You can almost feel his gaze in your cell room. You lay on your belly on the bed as you flipped through old gossip magazines like the ones you'd see in the front of a convenience store. It had radiant colors and models, actresses, you name it. It didn't help take away the longing ogling at you as you stared back at him, putting your magazine down.

It didn't help that you had your pajamas still on. It was a small tank top with a lace neckline with matching shorts. It was silky, and it hugged onto your skin snuggly. It was coral-colored. It was Rick's favorite. It was no surprise. You liked to get his attention from time to time.

You tried to put on this unrecognizable facade of cluelessness. It made you look more compliant. You like to paint your nails as leisure while everyone does their business and the jobs they have to contribute to the prison. You loved to feel pretty. Even at times like this, where you kill or get killed.

You'd see Rick pace around the prison like a madman. Carl had to deal with losing his mother. You didn't blame him. Rick was married to her for a long time. Sometimes, the widower would scream at nothing. It would wake you up in the night. Now you warm his bed.

The other woman enchants her clothes with French perfume The other woman keeps fresh cut flowers in each room And there are never toys that's scattered everywhere.

You always kept yourself clean. It was important. You can never go a week without showering. Ever since the apocalypse, it has been difficult for you. So you tried your best to smell good and be presentable for yourself. You kept your cell tidy and pristine, too. You cared for Judith when Beth had to spend some time with her father, Hershel. Play her, dress her, change her, almost as if you were her mother. You only did it so you could contribute to the group. You did not want to get kicked out like last time.

You were being weak and useless. That was what your last group would say. It was not your fault. You realize they made you live bait. Then you found Rick just a few days later. Unfortunately, Rick was not feeling so well when you came.

You had always had an odd attraction to him. At first, you would hate him for being rude to you, then feel your heart pull towards him. You understood his grief, though. The death of his wife brought the worst in him. You wanted to fix it, somehow.

So you tried your best to make up for it. Tidying cells, checking up on people, eating less so the rest of the group can have more rations. You wanted to fit in, to feel a part of it. The people were genuine, especially Carol. You felt his presence in every corner of the prison. You did not mind it. You would feel your core start to feel something else.

But it was never you who he was imagining. Was it? Whenever both of you share the night.

In sleepless nights with him, you can feel his breath on your ear, whispering honeyed words and insincere thoughts while his hands anticipate the need to hold your flesh as his body towers over you. Sometimes, you wonder what was going on in his mind, whether it was you or his deceased lover whom he sees underneath him. The simple acknowledgment of your company or the unending bereavement that engulfed his very own consciousness. The ghost of the prison halls haunted by his late wife.

As he was by your side, it was almost as if he was not the same madman as he was in the first few days of your arrival. He was gentle and careful with you, like a craftsman handling a porcelain doll, unlike the man who yelled at you for arriving at their prison.

He would lie next to you. He still had his wedding band. You thought about removing it without him noticing. You knew it was wrong to think that way, but you could not help it. You wanted him for yourself, but you also did not want to hurt him. You did not want to be the cause of any more pain in his life. You pushed those thoughts aside and tried to focus on being a good member.

The wedding band on his finger was a cue of his wife, a memory forever etched in his mind. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy whenever you caught a glimpse of it, knowing that you could never replace what he had lost. Despite your desires, you made a conscious effort to act as support and to be there for his and Lori's baby, even Carl. You knew that his healing process would take time, but you were willing to be patient, even if it meant that you could never have him for yourself.

And when her old man comes to call He finds her waiting like a lonesome queen 'Cause to be by her side It's such a change from old routine

There are nights when you think he will finally confess his feelings towards you. The strong emotions that both of you shared mutually would finally be real all this time. The longing melancholy that you endured to feel him again. Things that only the other woman can feel.

You're lying down on the empty cot that held your tired body. The blanket lazily covered your body as you stared at the prison ceiling. You breathe rapidly, and your chest heaves as your eyes wander on Rick's body, glistening in the faint glow of the candle.

You'd be his if he asked you to.

He wouldn't be willing to do that for you. It's been only a few months since Lori's demise, his beloved partner. It's a woman you always envied despite her absence. The grief is still fresh, and he hasn't had enough time to heal yet.

As you lay there, watching Rick dress himself up and ready to leave, you couldn't help but wonder if there was a chance for something more between you two. However, deep down, you knew it was only a fantasy that would never come true. Despite the pain of unrequited love, you couldn't help but admire the man in front of you with his charming grace and loving body, grateful for the moments you shared even if they were limited.

Amidst a world ravaged by the undead, it felt like chasing after your heart's desires was a lost cause. You could only yearn for what you could have had. If only the world wasn't a grim and hopeless place you might have been Rick's beloved wife by now. You could have felt his longing gaze upon you as your bodies entwined in a loving moment, free from the fear and chaos that had consumed the world around you.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh The other woman will always cry herself to sleep The other woman will never have his love to keep And as the years go by, the other woman will spend her life alone.

Alone and heartbroken, you don't find comfort in your cell room after he left. Your body aches with humiliation as you feel your eyes well up. They sting in pain as tears form and trickle down your rosy cheeks and your neck, which bruised under his lustrous kisses.

The way he groans Lori's name from time to time, the way he shuts his eyes almost throughout the night as he claims your body for himself. You hated it all and despised Rick for it. Oh, but how could you hate him? It was impossible for you, wrapped around his finger like a pathetic toy used for his desire.

But he doesn't realize it. You were afraid to point it out, terrified that he would stop seeing you every night.

It is as if you longed for this twisted idea of true love. Sleeping with a widower, knowing you can't have his love for yourself. Yet, it entices you. Every night you spend with him, every chance you get. You did not like that feeling at all. Whatever happened, his heart belonged to his deceased wife. Someone he will never touch, kiss, hold.

How could Rick leave you yearning for him again and again? Disappearing as the sun rises, pretend like nothing is going on between you and him. That left you sobbing pathetically on your cot like a crybaby. You will never get the luxury of holding hands, cuddling with him on the bed, and sharing kisses. You longed for everything truly romantic, wishing what you had with Rick was similar to what Glenn and Maggie had.

Days passed, and you and Rick slowly stopped seeing each other every night. He started to heal from his grief a bit. He acknowledges you as a member, but never more than that, despite the intimacy both of you shared during his times of mental anguish.

Alone.

During your childhood, you seldom had any friends. Even if you did manage to find someone to hang out with, your friendship was usually brief and fleeting. Your parents had their hands full with your younger siblings, and you often found yourself waiting alone for bedtime stories. Solitude became your constant companion until the apocalypse turned your world upside down.

It's an unfortunate reality that every person we love will eventually leave us in this world. You've had to face your fair share of losses, starting with the passing of your mother, father, and even your siblings. The apocalypse further compounded your feelings of isolation and grief as you were forced to journey alone, with nobody to rely on but yourself.

Along the way, you encountered a group of people who initially seemed like they could be allies, but it quickly became apparent that their intentions were far from honorable. With no other options, you continued your journey until you eventually stumbled upon a prison that had been into a small group home.

Despite your initial reservations, you soon found yourself safe and protected among the survivors who had made the prison their home. You were grateful to finally have a sense of belonging after so much loss and chaos.

You have been alone your whole life, but you've never felt so lonely as it is now.

———————————————————

A/n: I pictured this so much better than what I thought… I mean it’s not that good, I tried my best since I needed to clear out my WIPs, I’m sorry if this doesn’t meet up to ya’lls standards. I tried making it less sexual but let me know if I should dumb it down a little.

tags : @richardsamboramylove55 @musicownsme

#the walking dead #rick grimes x reader #twd #twd fanfic #andrew lincoln #rick grimes #the walking dead fanfiction #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x you #twd rick #twd x reader #biscuitwrites

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eeunoia · 14 days

Text

ENHYPEN Series

sinag | psh.

chapter nine

pairings: park sunghoon x reader

synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: contains harrassment, violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some.

note: hi guys, please send me feedbacks about the fic. i would really like to hear from you. anyway, enjoy reading! ily, stay safe.

The man laying at the cold concrete floor crawled slowly, trying to escape from his own death. He grunts as he felt his body aches because of all the beatings he just had. His face almost unrecognizable because of the amount of bruises and blood covering all over.

“P-Please,” his plea came out as a mumble as his lips already felt numb. When he saw a pair of shoes in front of him that have blood stains over it, of him he trembles in fear as he slowly raised his head up to look at the person standing proudly while looking down at him.

His hair soaked in mixed blood and sweat and was pushed back a bit messy but that didn't even made him less attractive. The fine man have this placid look plastered over his face, showing no remorse and inch by inch losing his patience. Dark and dangerous, that’s what his full aura gives off making the man lose his shit.

“Do you even hear yourself? A fucking mafia,” he scoffed humorless.

“pleading?” his tone completely sarcastic and full of insult but the man at the cold ground don’t even care about any of that. All he can think of is to make it out here alive. To earn his mercy.

“I’ll d-do anything. Just don’t kill me.” he once again plead.

In all honesty, the man doesn’t even know the point of begging him nonstop to spare him. He knew very well who's this powerful young mafia in front of him. Park Sunghoon. If wrath and ruthless will be a person, he will surely pass to be the main epitome of it.

He’s known for his arrogant personality. He have short patience and can act wrecklessly whenever he feels like to. Just a mere mention of his name, everyone instantly assumed that there is trouble and death.

The amused grin of the person in front of him fell and he’s surprise at how fast the young man changed his expressions. Now, his eyes were dead and blank once again while he eye him.

“I would’ve spared you if you only gave me the information I want from you.” he uttered coldly.

“I already told you, I didn't know that girl! Hell, I didn’t even saw that face of her in my entire life.” his tone slightly raising because of frustration and pressure of having his life in line just because of a girl he had never seen in his whole life.

The man kept his blank face, unconvinced with his words. His men that are standing a few feet away from him shows nothing but ignorance. They stood silence while they watch their boss mercilessly beat him like an animal.

“Do you think I’m lying? I can never forget such face if I already laid eyes on her! She’s beautiful--” his sentence was caught off as a bullet was suddenly fired over his head, causing him to lost his life. Sunghoon didn’t even blink or flinch as the loud bang echoed inside the room.

“You run your mouth too much.” he mumbled and even gave the poor man’s head a kick before he turned around to light himself a cigarette.

He puffed once as his jaw clenched hardly, his men now started to clean the whole place. He was trying to calm himself down when suddenly, his phone rang.

“Yeah?” he greeted then took another puff from his cigar.

“Dude, where the fuck are you? Jake and I are gonna meet tonight.” his friend, Jay, was the person calling.

He shut his eyes and bit his lower lip out of frustration. He can feel his inside trembling in anger and all other negative emotions that he’s trying to suppress inside him taking over his mind.

“Dude?” his friend called out when he didn’t respond.

“I can’t today. I'm out of the country.” he answered. The person from the other line grew silent for a while before he heaved a sigh.

“You’re searching for her again, am I right, Hoon?”

Of course, his friend knew what he’s doing. They’re probably already used to it by now. If ever he went away and went missing in action, it only means he’s searching for this girl. His girl.

He was so ready to hear an earful from his friend once again. Out of all of them, he was the one who disagrees on him searching for this girl like a mad man. If he isn’t his friend, he might’ve planted multiple bullets to his head already.

“She visited my dream again, Jay. I couldn't sleep for days. I n-need to fucking find her or I’ll really lose my mind any time soon.” Sunghoon said then threw the lit up cigarette over the floor before running his hand over his hair.

His friend sighed, “It's been years, Hoon. Don’t you think if she really exist, you should’ve find her by now?”

This isn’t the first time his friend tried to knock up sense into his brain but Sunghoon was very much determine to find you. He’s a man of principles and the type of person who stands up for his own beliefs. He won’t just surrender and he will prove him that he was right. If he may search the whole world, he will.

“I have to go, Jay.” he said coldly, dismissing any more of his friend’s plan to stop him from his crazy decisions. Before he can even complain, he ended the call and just roamed his eyes around.

A room full of dead bodies. A familiar scene for him already. He was told that the man he just killed may had known the girl he was looking for but here he is, disappointed again not to get any information about you. Sunghoon’s eyes grew colder at the feeling of having a blank space in him. He knew that the only person who can fill it was you and nobody else.

“Boss, the car is ready.” Sunghoon’s head look over to his shoulder when Icarus called out his attention.

He shut his eyes for a while before he tilted his head over to the side then slowly walked out the place. His broad shoulder were hanging low as his eyes grew colder as he take steps further outside. Once again, he was disappointed. He doesn't know why he even always raise his expectations at these things when he know clearly that the ratio of finding you was low.

“Where to, boss?” his driver asked.

Sunghoon’s eyes were shut close, trying to calm himself and give his mind some peace even though he knew he’s slowly losing it. He fluttered his eyes open as he looked over the window. The bright city lights are the first who greeted him, they seem fancy but he doesn't care.

“Take me to the nearest bar.” he ordered and his driver just quietly muttered an ‘Right away, boss.’ and followed his order.

On the other hand, you arrived at the country where the seminar will be held. The hotel seems very fancy, clearly the company have budget for this trip. They also booked you a four day trip even though the seminar will be in just one day. Over all, you just planned to enjoy this trip as much as you could.

The plane ride was not so bad, but you couldn’t even take a nap out of all the overthinking you did the whole duration. When you arrived the hotel, they assist you right away and even had staffs aligned to welcome your arrival. It was a little odd and overwhelming, but you just shrugged it off.

Luke wasn’t happy about this trip. When did he ever been happy about your achievements anyway? It didn’t surprise you anymore. At this point, you’re just fed up with his immature behaviors.

Seems like overthinking got you all riled up because despite the night falling deeper, you found yourself unsleepy. After taking a very refreshing shower, you found a card at the center table. It was a pass for this exclusive bar just beside this very hotel. Thinking that having a few drinks may help you to sleep, you decided to go check it out.

It didn’t disappoint you as the ambiance of the whole place is relaxing. Although there are just some weird feeling inside you. Like something’s ain’t right.

“Did you hear anything from Luke?” you bit your lower lip as you wait for your friend to answer your question. One hand holding your phone over at your ears while the other one played over the glass of liqour.

“No... Are you still not okay?” she asked from the other line.

You pursed your lips and let go of the glass before carefully caressing your forehead. You rested both of your elbows at the bar counter and pursed your lips.

“He’s still mad, I guess?” you mumbled and lowered your shoulder then started playing with the glass again.

Your friend scoffed, “Why would he be mad anyway? You went there because of work. It isn't like you went there for a vacation!” Lucie hissed and you know she have a point.

“You're right but I also kind of forgot to tell him before my trip. I happen to remember the day of my flight.” you said. The other line went silent for a while before your friend let out a sigh.

“Well, okay. But at least he needs to understand and be supportive. You’re finally facing your fears!” her tone got excited once more. A small smile appeared over your face.

“Yes. Finally. I just hope everything won’t turn like how it used to be before.”

She sighs, “Stop overthinking, okay? If anything happens, you can call me. I will catch the next flight to you right away!”

That made you feel so much better. Lucie really does care and very sweet. You are very thankful for a friend like her. Someone very reliable and trustworthy.

“Just think of it as a small get away from all the stress.” she tries to comfort you that its okay to be here right now. That everything will be just fine.

“All right. How about you? Are you okay alone there?” you asks a little worried to leave her alone for the first time ever since you two started living togther.

She chuckles, “Of course! I’m not five, okay? Anyway, just think of yourself. Reflect on your life and appreciate that you are finally at the best point of your life.”

“Am I?” you murmured under your breath. It was low so you knew she missed it.

You gulped trying to get rid of the lump over your throat. You are thankful for everything that you have right now. A stable job, good friends, parents (although they’re mostly just there to ask money from you), and a boyfriend. You know you should be contented at it but at some point, you feel like something’s not right... like something’s missing.

“Y/n... stop overthinking and enjoy.” she said, more like a reminder.

At the end, you had no other choice but to oblige to what she said. You are already here and maybe the fear of being in a foreign country again gets into you too much. Its making you overthink everything.

As you continue your chitchat with your friend, your eyes unconsciously darted over to these group of men that just made its entrance to the bar. They were wearing uniforms that were similar, like some bodyguards or something and they have this weird vibe.

You shrugged it off and just diverted your attention back to your glass of liquor. Thankfully, you shut the topic off and decided to talk about something else. You chuckled as you listen to your friend’s funny story, unaware of the pair of eyes who are piercing at you.

Sunghoon was at dazed. He feels like his mind was floating or something while he watch you converse over your phone. He doesn't know if its the desperation, (clearly can’t blame the alcohol since he just arrived) that cause him to start seeing things.

Is he really going out of his mind? Did he lose it? Sunghoon wonders, but his eyes never left your direction. He’s afraid that you’ll disappear, even if it really is his hallucinations, he don’t want to risk it.

“Icarus...” he calls for his assistant. He struts a bit closer, but not too close. He still made sure he kept Sunghoon’s personal space, something he’s really fond of.

“I took my meds today, right? Tell me I’m not seeing things.” his chest heaves up and down, eyes still fixed at you laughing about something that your friend uttered from the other line.

Sunghoon was beyond astonished. His heart races, feet stoned at the position, and slowly all the noise around him are turning into a muffled sound. Like they’re being thrown away somewhere far from where the two of you are.

Icarus' eyes follows his line of sight and he was surprised as well. He gazes over the three other men near him and like him, they looked staggered. He fished his phone and quickly pulls up the painted picture that they’ve been using to search for you. He glanced back and fort multiple times and there’s no doubt that it was you.

“It is her, Boss.” he confirmed that ringed at the back of his mind.

Icarus took a glance over his boss and he quickly started dialling someone through his phone. This is the sole purpose of their nonstop search countries by countries, and yet now that you are there all of them are just stunned. They couldn’t process it properly.

Multiple times that people labelled Sunghoon to be crazy and now, you are here. Proving everyone that they are indeed wrong because you do really exist. Sunghoon’s overwhelmed. He was out of words and just kept staring. Like he was caught in a trance.

He wanted so bad to approach you and steal you out from here. Sunghoon fights all his demons just so he can hold back from holding you right there and then. He’s been waiting for this moment for so long and so he knows he shouldn’t act impulsively.

While Sunghoon enjoys watching you silently after he ordered something to drink, he felt a presence approaches him.

“Sir, we found the hotel where she’s staying at. Beside this establishment.” Icarus announced. Sunghoon nodded his head without sparing him a glance and tilts his head.

“I will go with some of our men to check her room for informations.” he added, informing and asking for permission from Sunghoon.

“All right, you can do that. Hurry up before she decides to go back. I don’t want her to be suspicious of anything.” despite the spark over his eyes, his tone ice cold as he speak to his assistant.

Icarus silently nodded his head, “Noted, boss.” and with that he exits himself taking a few of their men to go with him.

You have no idea that some men are planning to intrude your hotel room. All you care about that night was to loosen up and get rid of these negative thoughts inside your mind.

The corner of Sunghoon’s lips lifts up a little as he watches you made face after a hard shot. It was very adorable for the young mafia boss.

He taps the table once, catching one of the bartender’s attention. He wasn’t a regular, but he sure is known around here. Of course not about good things. There were never goodness in him.

“Give whatever she needs and wants. I’ll pay for it.” his words were firm and cold. The intimidated worker glanced over at your direction and quickly gave Sunghoon a nod, eyes flashes fear.

The night continued and Sunghoon took a few shots. It was incomparable to what you just had. You’re now gulping your eleventh shot and it was obvious that you’re more than drunk. He bet you are now incapable of walking straightly.

Also the sensual gazes from multiple men inside this bar that peers at you didn’t slip from him. He wasn’t too happy about it, fighting the urge of snapping their heads off one by one. Thankfully, the fact that he finally found you kind of made him more calmer. And as long as nobody tries to lay their hands on you, they’ll be good.

He saw you stood up and kind of impressed that you managed to put yourself on your feet. He smirks dangerously and stood up, placing a stack of money at the bar counter. It was way too much as a payment, but he does not care. You seem like you enjoyed your night, the barternders deserves tips for satisfying a customer. Especially if that customer is none other than you.

His smirk fell when he saw you stumble over a man that’s already grinning maliciously. He did not liked it in one bit. The man licks his disgusting lips as he racked his eyes all over your body. Sunghoon snapped at the sight of it and quickly marched near your direction.

You’re basically so drunk that you passed out, unable to even recognize the man holding you.

“Do you need some help pretty girl?” the man whispered meaningfully and was about to grab you by the waist when a hand yanked it hardly making the man scream so loud.

It caught attention, but that’s the least Sunghoon cares about.

“You might be the one that’ll be needing help.” he grunts angrily as his free hand held you over your waist to make sure you aren’t crashing down the floor now that he lets go of you.

The man groans and brows furrowing in a displeased expression. He lifts his head, ready to curse out the man that was doing this to him, but instead the color to his face all drained out.

People inside the bar stayed at their places, doesn’t really want to get involve once caught glance at the Park Sunghoon. All they can do is to stare, because they knew if they try to get involve, its going to be hell for them too.

“M-Mr. Park, I w-was just—” the man yet again shrieked eerily, his eyes grew when the man pulled his wrist and broke it with no remorse.

He fell down on the ground crying out of pain. He called out for help nonstop, but nobody even tried to call an ambulance. They were just there, watching the awful scene.

Sunghoon held your waist and checks on your passed out state. With his furrowed brows he scanned you carefully, making sure no injury was inflicted. After making sure you’re all right, he carries you effortlessly by his arms and heads outside the bar.

“Let’s call it a night now, princess.” he mumbles softly.

“Sir, what are we going to do about the man in the bar?” one of his man stalks behind him.

Sunghoon’s eyes turned murderous once it left you. “Get rid of him.” he coldly said before walking inside the lobby of the luxurious hotel you’re currently staying on.

The moment he stepped foot, he saw Icarus talking carefully with the staff of the hotel. He was sure he’s discussing with them what to do and not to do. He have no idea who owns this place, but he will surely make sure none of the things they did will be come known and that you will be enjoying your stay.

His eyes looked panic when he saw Sunghoon carrying you by his arms, unconscious. He excused himself from the girl at the front desk and slowly approaches him. The staffs that gets to see the view looked bothered, but what can they do about it? It’s Park Sunghoon. It’s either they kept their mouth shut or he will shut their mouth forever.

“W-What happened...?” he was hesitant as he ask that question to Sunghoon.

The original plan if ever they manage to find you is to observe and never engage too near. But why does he carrying you like this and passed out? Did his boss lose control and forcedly took you here?

“She passed out from drinking.” he explained shortly that somehow ease his worry.

He told Sunghoon the number of your room and he went there by himself. Icarus left to go and check on the mess Sunghoon just made by the bar.

The mirror of the elevator reflects the two of you. It was a sight Sunghoon never expected to see this soon. Numerous times he imagined holding you like this by his arms and now that you’re here, it feel sureal.

He strides the hotel hallway, his long legs makes it a short travel from the elevator to your room. The whole floor is now vacant as he ordered Icarus to rent all the rooms so they can ensure your safety and that you can rest properly.

After he opened your room, he walked over the bed and placed you carefully. He smashed his lips together as he inhaled your scent, making his head all fuzzy. You smell so good and its making him crazy. He leans away and stared at your sleeping figure.

He still couldn’t believe it. Thinking that he’s in a dream. And if ever he is, he don’t want to wake up anymore. He wants to stay in this dream, with you.

He extends his hand and slowly tried to brush some strands of hair that was on your face. He jolts when you suddenly moved, the tip of his finger grazed on your soft skin. He heaves a sigh, feeling his heart thumped like crazy.

He stares at his big hand for a while before he smirks a little. His eyes trailed back at your sleeping state and he noticed the clothes you are wearing. It doesn’t look uncomfortable, but you won’t be able to rest properly.

He fished his phone from his pocket while still watching you sleep, not allowing to take his sight out of you. Like afraid that you’ll suddenly vanish.

“Boss?”

“Ask for room service for her room. I want them all girls and also someone who can dress her into a more comfy clothes.” he ordered that his assistant quick assists.

He sighs. He doesn’t want to leave yet, but he knew he has to. Slowly, he sat down at the side of the bed and stared at you peacefully sleeping.

He reaches for your hand and with a racing heart he held your hand. Lifts it and placed a soft kiss on top of it while his eyes darted directly at you.

“Sleep well, my pretty. I’ll have you for myself soon.”

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chococolte · 2 years

Note

PLEASE AM BEGGING, HOW WOULD , ZHONGLI, CHILDE, AND HEIZOU 'PROVE THEMSELVES' TO THE CREATOR READER, LIKE WHAT EXACTLY, WOULD THEY GO ON A FULL FLEDGED KILLING SPREE IN THE NAME OF THE CREATOR OR ARE THEY MORE DOCILE AND VANILLA???

U could add characters u might want to write for, but these aee ones u said u have a brain rot for sooo..

Thanks! <3

word count. 1.1k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, religious & cult themes, sagau + cult au shit, g/n reader. i do not condone yanderes irl.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. man im such a slow writer ☠️ apologies zhongli's is longer than the rest, also im sorry if this isn't exactly what u wanted 😭

zhongli

Zhongli is old, strong like tempered glass. He has endured like the earth; only time has weathered his jagged cliffs and jeweled karsts. He has been strong in preparation of you, holding on when so many times he has wanted to let go.

All he wants now is to serve you. That is his final request, his only demand of you. Just let him take care of you as you are now in your mortal form, until you take to the skies and ascend past what is known. Zhongli desires to worship you at your feet, where he has only imagined himself before. To kneel before you and finally let go of his worldly responsibilities is his only wish.

That you may question his devotion to you is terrifying. All he can do to stop himself from begging at your feet to please let him stay is to dig his nails into the palms of his hands, to assure himself that you must know how much he loves you. How many years he spent worshiping you from afar, how happy he was to feel the light of your control, how euphoric it was to finally see you.

The real you. The one that lived and breathed, the one that laughed and cried. Zhongli imagined the moment so many times until it was ingrained into his head, but it didn't stop him from shaking upon making eye contact. Surely, you know how long he waited for that moment?

That you may doubt him— the mere thought of it sends him into a frenzy, so unlike him. Your thoughts, your perception, your impression of him; your opinion is holy, sacred. If you think he isn't enough, that he's lacking in some form, then he is. Even if he doesn't know why, even if he's never felt so sick before, he will do everything in his power to prove himself to you. If you find him unsatisfactory, or inadequate— he must find whatever part of him you dislike and cut it off.

You don't like the way he brews tea, perhaps? That's understandable. You're his God, after all, and your palate must be refined. His lowly tea leaves could never please you. There has to be a replacement, however? Something you enjoy. Just tell him the name, and he'll go fetch it for you.

Is it his form that you find distasteful? The way he ties his hair, his attire— did you prefer his half-adeptus form, perhaps? He'll happily revert back to it, if you'd like. Do you like women more? That's fine. It's not difficult for him to change his body to fit your preferences.

Did you dislike that he faked his death? If it's your desire, Zhongli will gladly take back the mantle of Geo Archon. His wants are nothing. If you will it so, then so it will be. Rule beside him if you'd like; use him as a puppet ruler, a toy. Your plaything. Whatever you want.

It doesn't matter who he has to hurt, what extent he has to reach. Whatever you ask of him, he will follow without question. He will pick up his blade, sully himself even further; become unrecognizable to anyone but himself.

If he must burn down all of Liyue, so be it. To fall in line beneath your command is his greatest desire.

childe

Childe feels like throwing up.

It doesn't cross his mind that maybe you're the one who's forsaken him. No, he's the one who failed you. He disappointed you in some way, made you upset with him. You don't want him anymore— but that's okay. He just has to work harder, then. He'll push himself until he's weak and withered, until he can finally feel the weight of your gaze again. Until he's worthy enough to bear it.

You are everything. The dazzling stars that flare in the night sky, the whispers of morning dew that brush against his legs. You are his first and final breath, encompassing and overwhelming. To Childe, you are a fire that burns eternally; in the frigid north of Snezhnaya, you are the only source of warmth.

Without you, he is nothing. Childe will go to any lengths to assure his spot by your side. He'll burn any bridges, destroy whatever stands in his way. The Tsarista may have given him purpose, but you gave him life. If it was you who asked, Childe would happily throw his loyalty to the side. Nobody else matters. Nothing else matters. The mere thought of you discarding him is enough to make him sick.

How many have killed for you, like he has? How many have stained their hands until the blood is skin deep, in their vessels and veins? Childe has done so much for you. He's killed so many— soiled his soul, all in your name. Perhaps he should find such an idea distasteful, but he can't find it in him. This is what he has to do to prove himself. To make sure you know he is worthy enough.

Whoever it is he has to kill, whatever beast he has to slay— if you want him to kneel before you and beg on all fours like a dog, he will. If you want him to hurt himself, he will.

Whatever you want. Just don't throw him away.

heizou

Heizou, ever since he has learned of you, has devoted his life to you.

You are the ultimate justice in this world. The only good that exists. You burn away all evil. You share his ideals, his hope for the future. It's only right that he worships you, that he kneel before your light.

It's for this reason that he panics like no other when turned away. You want proof of his devotion? For him to prove himself worthy? So be it. Regardless of the sick feeling in his stomach, of the panic and dread that settles at the bottom of his soul, Heizou will push himself into the deep end.

He will forgo any sense of self that he has. Whatever self-worth he harbors is thrown to the side, desolate and forgotten. None of it matters anymore. You've thrown him away, and he must prove that he's worth to keep.

To become justice, to eradicate all evil: his tenets of self, what drove him forward. Heizou can't find it in himself to care anymore, not like he used to. He'll dirty himself until he's wrapped in sin, suffocating in its abyss, until you reach for him again and heal him of his wickedness.

Heizou will dirty his hands with blood, of the vile and the innocent. Mortality no longer matters, it does not serve a purpose in his actions. It is only whether this is enough for you— it is, isn't it?

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steveshairychest · 1 year

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previous anon! :D

child actors steve and eddie who worked on a movie together and developed crushes on each other. after the movie, they dont see each other again until eddie is playing music at this fancy party. he recognizes steve immediately because steve became a famous model. it takes steve a second to recognize eddie, but steve knows it's eddie because of his eyes. they have a reunion and kiss. 💅🏼

oh this is delightful! Child actors steddie has got my brain worms spinning around.

The first and only movie they ever did together became quite a hit. Steve and Eddie both played the love interest for the other young girl in the movie, but the reason the movie became so popular is because of the amazing chemistry between the supposed rival characters that Steve and Eddie played.

They spent a lot of time together on set. Eddie was 14, Steve was 13, so they got in quite a bit of trouble for causing mischief on set, as was to be expected of teen boys. They also rehearsed their lines together and when no one was looking, Eddie would lean in close and kiss Steve's cheek just like he had to do with the girl. "I've got to practice!" He'd say.

Steve never denied him. Not even when he accidentally misjudged and planted a kiss right on Steve's lips.

That was Steve's first kiss. Eddie's too.

"Look at her, not at Steve!" The director would scold Eddie while he was giving his lines. He never looked at Steve on purpose, he just found his eyes wandered while giving the sweet lines.

It was just a coincidence that his eyes always found Steve while delivering the line, "I think I love you."

After the movie and all the press was over, the boys went their separate ways and very rarely saw each other.

Eddie sometimes saw Steve's face plastered on billboards while he walked the streets because Steve had abandoned acting and chosen to model. If he stopped and stared for an obscenely long time, well that was his own business. Eddie always used to tell Steve he was pretty.

Acting didn't work out for Eddie either. He got enough money from the one gig to set him up but now he spent most of his time making music and performing at other famous people's parties. It's not the type of stage he wanted to perform on but it was better than nothing.

He was performing at his old co-stars party that night, the girl from the movie, he barely remembered her name. The only thing he remembered from back then was Steve. He still knew that Steve's favourite colour was sunflower yellow and that he liked 3 sugars in his coffee. They used to drink so much coffee at that age to stay awake.

Sometimes he wondered if Steve would even remember him. Would he stop and say hi if he saw Eddie on the street or would he keep walking? Would he add him back if Eddie was man enough to follow him on instagram? Probably not.

Eddie had changed since they were kids. Lots of tattoos and piercings and long hair instead of a buzz cut made him nearly unrecognizable. Steve had barely changed. Eddie could still see the young boy he'd had a crush on in the handsome face that stared at him from billboards.

He's tuning his guitar while the party guests meander into the crazy huge mansion when he spots a familiar face in the crowd. A face that caused him to stop and just stare, his eyes unable to look away from Steve Harrington. He watched Steve glide through the crowd, his smile bright and friendly as he hugged and greeted people, some he kissed on the cheek which made Eddie remember the first time he kissed Steve's cheek.

Steve didn't see him at first, his focus on the people around him, but then Eddie bumped into the mic and caused a feedback screech to echo around the building. "Sorry." He laughed into the mic.

And then Steve's eyes meet his and Eddie could see no hint of recognition in them at all. He smiled up at Eddie as if to say, 'It's ok', but then something changed. His smile dropped and his mouth fell open into a surprised little oh.

Eddie could see Steve mouth his name, could see the realization wash over him as he took in Eddie on the stage.

"Hi." Eddie said into the mic, both to the audience and to Steve, who was walking slowly towards the stage.

"Hi." Steve mouthed the words to him.

Eddie was glad that he took this gig, was glad that he took the time to put on his best outfit and brush his hair.

But most of all he was glad that Steve remembered him.

#HI ITS SO HOT HERE IM MELTING I KINDA RUSHED THIS #BUT THANKS ANON I LOVED THIS #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington

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chokememaximoff · 8 months

Text

No is a full sentence

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Abstract:In a tale of heartache and healing, Y/N, an Avenger, finds solace in her deepening connection with Wanda, her empathetic friend. As their bond grows stronger, they navigate the trauma of Y/N's toxic relationship with Hannah, ultimately finding the courage to confront the past. Their journey from pain to love unfolds amidst the backdrop of the Avengers' world, offering hope and the promise of a brighter future.

TW:Abusive relationship, manipulation, substance abuse, non-consensual actions, emotional distress.

Y/N Y/L/N, an Avenger living in the bustling compound with her superhero peers, had been in a turbulent relationship with Hannah for three grueling years. In the beginning, their love had been a beacon of hope, but over time, it had morphed into a chaotic, unrecognizable mess.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the compound, Y/N mustered the courage to confront Hannah about her infidelity. They sat on the balcony, the faint hum of the city below serving as an eerie backdrop to their strained conversation.

Y/N sighed, "Hannah, we need to talk. I can't keep pretending that everything's okay when it's not."

Hannah glanced away, her eyes avoiding Y/N's gaze. "What do you mean? Everything's fine."

Y/N's voice trembled with frustration, "No, it's not fine, Hannah. You've been cheating on me, openly, for months. Every time I bring it up, you turn it into a fight, making me feel like I'm the one in the wrong."

Hannah's face twisted into a scowl, "I'm not your property, Y/N. I can have other people around. You're too possessive."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she responded, "It's not about possession, it's about trust and respect. I thought we had that."

Their argument escalated, with hurtful words exchanged. It wasn't the first time such a conversation had devolved into a shouting match, and it wouldn't be the last.

The next issue was Hannah's self-destructive behavior. She had developed a habit of excessive drinking and substance abuse. Y/N knew it was a coping mechanism, but it tore at the fabric of their relationship.

One night, after a particularly wild party, Hannah stumbled into the compound, reeking of alcohol and barely able to stand. Y/N rushed to her side, struggling to keep her voice steady, "Hannah, you can't keep doing this to yourself. It's killing you, and it's tearing us apart."

Hannah slurred her words, "I promise, Y/N, I won't do it again. I'll change."

But the promise felt hollow, as it had so many times before. Y/N knew she'd be the one cleaning up the mess, both literally and figuratively, as she laid down on the cold floor with headphones, while Hannah snored obliviously in Y/N's bed.

The cycle continued, love and despair intertwined, as Y/N clung to the faint hope that someday things would change, that the person she loved would find her way back from the abyss.

...

As Y/N's relationship with Hannah continued to deteriorate, a new Avenger named Wanda Maximoff entered the compound, immediately catching Y/N's attention. Wanda was undeniably attractive and alluring, but Y/N was committed to Hannah, even if Hannah's commitment was shaky at best. Y/N decided to forge a friendship with Wanda, as she genuinely enjoyed her company.

Over the course of a month, Y/N and Wanda became inseparable. Wanda hadn't been a favorite among all the Avengers in the compound, but she found solace in Y/N's friendship, as well as with Natasha and Clint. Her troubled past had given her a unique bond with Y/N, and she cherished having her in her life, despite others' opinions.

However, there was one aspect of Y/N that weighed heavily on Wanda's mind – her thoughts. Y/N's mental turmoil regarding Hannah was like a constant storm in Wanda's mind. As a mind reader, she couldn't help but pick up on Y/N's inner struggles. Whenever Y/N's thoughts spiraled into despair about Hannah, Wanda's heart ached in sympathy.

As days turned into weeks, Wanda became increasingly aware of just how toxic Y/N's relationship had become. She witnessed the physical toll it took on Y/N, who spent countless nights caring for Hannah, leaving her exhausted and with heavy bags under her eyes, concealed by layers of makeup.

Wanda couldn't ignore it any longer. She sought Natasha's counsel, hoping to find a way to help Y/N. Natasha sighed deeply, remembering her own failed attempt to intervene in the past. "I tried to step in about a year ago," Natasha admitted, "but Y/N got defensive and didn't speak to me for a month. Hannah has hated me ever since. So, I stopped trying."

Wanda felt conflicted. She wanted to help Y/N escape this toxic relationship, but she feared pushing Y/N away like Natasha had experienced. She understood that Y/N needed to make her own choices, even if they were painful ones. But she couldn't help but worry about her friend's well-being and how much longer Y/N could endure this torment.

...

In the dead of night, Y/N was jolted awake by the sound of her bedroom door being pushed open violently. Startled, she sat up in bed, heart racing, and fumbled to switch on the lights. The sudden intrusion was none other than Hannah, stumbling into the room, reeking of alcohol and swaying unsteadily.

Before Y/N could react, Hannah locked the bedroom door and plopped down on the bed, sitting in front of her. Y/N rubbed her eyes, trying to comprehend the situation, and let out a weary sigh as she saw the extent of Hannah's drunkenness.

Hannah began to speak, her words slurring, "I'm... I'm so sorry, Y/N. I ruin everything, don't I? I'm just... I'm just a screw-up."

Y/N's exhaustion was palpable as she replied, "It's okay, babe. Let's just get you to sleep, alright? I'll help you brush your teeth."

Hannah shook her head vigorously, her words filled with a desperate urgency, "No, you don't understand. I'm apologizing right now, and you... you just want me to sleep."

Y/N sighed, realizing that this wasn't going to be a peaceful night. She tried to explain, "Hannah, I have a mission tomorrow. I need rest. If you're in the mood to fight tonight, I'll have to go to Wanda's room for the night."

At the mention of Wanda's name, Hannah's gaze darkened, and she chuckled bitterly, "Oh, so that's how it is, huh?"

Y/N felt her nerves prickle as she hurriedly clarified, "Babe, I was just suggesting, I didn't mean—"

But before she could finish her sentence, Hannah pounced on Y/N, pinning her down to the bed, and all words were lost in the intensity of the moment. Hannah's hand was on Y/N's neck in the speed of light, ripping the air out of Y/N's lungs.

Hannah's grip was relentless on Y/N's neck,nails digging into skin leaving angry red marks. She kissed Y/N who reluctantly kissed back and when Y/N struggled too hard to breathe Hannah let go, making Y/N gasp for air.

Hannah went to pull off Y/Ns shorts and Y/N held Hannah's hand saying, "Hannah no, I don't want to tonight.".But Hannah's grip on Y/Ns hips was harsh and she yanked the shorts off.

"You were going to go to Wanda's room to whore yourself out, so I will treat you like the whore you are now." Y/N's heart dropped as Hannah spat those words at her.

"No Hannah please stop."...

...

The following day, Y/N found herself on a mission, but the exhaustion from the previous night's turmoil weighed heavily on her. She couldn't focus on the task at hand, her mind clouded with worry about Hannah and the strange turn their relationship had taken.

As the mission unfolded, Y/N's distraction became apparent. She moved mechanically, not fully engaged in the fight. It was only a matter of time before an enemy took advantage of her distracted state, raising a weapon to take a shot at her.

In that critical moment, Wanda's panic surged. She reacted instinctively, using her telekinetic powers to yank Y/N out of harm's way. Wide-eyed and filled with concern, Wanda hissed, "What the hell are you doing, Y/N? You almost got killed!"

Y/N, however, seemed oddly nonchalant. She shrugged off Wanda's grip and, with an effortless grace, swiftly eliminated the enemy who had posed a threat to her. It was a stark contrast to her distracted state just moments ago.

Wanda's worry only deepened as she observed Y/N's behavior. Something was clearly wrong. After the mission, Y/N retreated to her room to shower off the day's events. Unbeknownst to her, Wanda had quietly slipped into her room, waiting for her to emerge.

When Y/N finally stepped out of the shower, dressed in only shorts and a tank top, her wet hair slicked back, she was startled to find Wanda sitting on her bed. Y/N's instinctive reaction was to quickly cover the sides of her neck with her hands, but it was too late. Wanda had already seen the telltale scratches and bruising.

Wanda's heart sank as she realized that Y/N couldn't have sustained those injuries during the mission. She had been right behind Y/N the entire time, and there had been no opportunity for her to get hurt without Wanda noticing. There was only one explanation for the marks on Y/N's neck, and it filled Wanda with a deep sense of dread.

Y/N quickly moved her hair to conceal the bruising on her neck, her nerves making her voice tremble as she asked, "Wanda, what are you doing here? Are you okay?"

Wanda gestured for Y/N to sit beside her, and Y/N, nervous and shaken, complied. Y/N sighed and began to apologize for her distraction during the mission, but Wanda shook her head, her eyes filled with concern.

"No, Y/N, it's not about the mission," Wanda said softly, raising her hand to move Y/N's hair away from her neck. However, as her fingers approached, Y/N flinched, and Wanda's heart shattered. She gently pushed the hair aside, revealing the angry red scratches and bruising on Y/N's neck.

Y/N choked on her words, attempting to concoct a lie, but when Wanda touched her hips, she hissed in pain. Wanda's eyes widened as she uncovered matching marks on Y/N's hips. Tears welled up in her eyes as she asked, "Honey, what happened?"

Y/N couldn't hold back her tears any longer. She confessed, "She was drunk, and I mentioned I needed rest. I said she could take my room, and I could go to yours. But then she got mad, and she... she wanted... you know. I didn't want to because I was tired, and she was completely wasted, but she really wanted to, and that's where the bruises came from."

After a deep, shuddering breath, Y/N continued, "After an hour of her being so harsh, trying to get me to do what she wanted, I just... I gave in."

Wanda's tears flowed freely as she pulled Y/N into a tight hug, whispering reassuring words, "It's okay, Y/N. I won't let her do anything to you anymore. You're safe now." Holding Y/N close, she silently vowed to protect her friend from any further harm.

...

The next day, Y/N and Wanda decided to spend their day together, trying to put the recent events behind them. They watched movies, talked, and laughed, enjoying each other's company. Meanwhile, Hannah's calls and messages filled Y/N's phone, but she ignored them, determined to have a peaceful day with Wanda.

As they settled in Y/N's room for another movie, Wanda paused it to use the bathroom. During her absence, the door to Y/N's room swung open, and in stormed an enraged Hannah. Y/N froze in place as Hannah angrily demanded, "Do you not have a fucking phone?"

Y/N stammered, "I do, I just didn't want to talk after what happened."

Hannah scoffed, "What happened? You wanted me to do that. Now you're pretending to be a saint."

Y/N shook her head, tears streaming down her face, as she cried, "No, Hannah, you know I didn't want it. I was tired and you were drunk..."

Just as Hannah was about to approach Y/N aggressively, the bathroom door swung open, and Wanda emerged. Anger immediately overtook Hannah as she saw Wanda there. She sneered at Y/N, accusing her of replacing her with Wanda.

"You just decided to replace me with her now, huh?" Hannah seethed. "And I'm the bad one."

Hannah went to grab Y/N's jaw, but before she could, Wanda reacted with lightning speed. She used her telekinetic powers to pin Hannah to the wall, her eyes shining bright red with anger. She hissed at Hannah, "You're a disgrace of a woman. No one should ever do what you did. Y/N is done with you. If you ever come near her again, I will hurt you in ways you can't even think of. Understood?"

Hannah's eyes widened with fear as she nodded quickly. Wanda pushed her out of the room harshly and followed her until she was sure Hannah was out of the compound. When she returned to the room, Y/N hugged her tightly, whispering, "Thank you."

Wanda held her close and assured her, "No one can hurt you when you're with me." The two friends found solace in each other's presence, hoping for a brighter and safer future.

...

Wanda couldn't help but notice Y/N's stressed expression as she glanced at her phone, clearly agitated about something. As she approached Y/N, she noticed that Y/N quickly put her phone away. Wanda raised an eyebrow and asked, "What are you doing?"

Y/N tried to brush it off, replying, "Oh, just texting Natasha."

Wanda hummed, not entirely convinced by Y/N's answer. She decided to involve Natasha in the conversation. When Natasha walked into the room, Wanda called her over and questioned, "So, Natasha, what were you and Y/N texting about just now?"

Natasha looked confused as she responded, "We weren't texting. We haven't texted since two days ago."

Wanda's suspicions deepened, and she gently took Y/N's hand, pulling her aside to a more private space. She asked, "Y/N, are you texting with Hannah?"

Y/N sighed, the weight of her recent interactions with Hannah bearing down on her. She admitted, "She's pissed, and I mean, it's my fault. Maybe I really did want it, and if I didn't want it, I'm stronger than her. I could have just pushed her away or even hit her or something to stop her."

Wanda sighed, realizing that Hannah was manipulating Y/N once again. She gently inquired, "Y/N, did you say no to Hannah that night?"

Y/N's voice trembled as she replied, "I did. I kept saying it over and over again, trying to push her off. But she was just so rough and pushy about it that after a while, I was hurting so much that I just let her."

Wanda nodded in understanding and said, "You know, 'no' is a full sentence, right?"

Y/N sighed and confessed, "You're right. I just... I feel like I didn't do enough."

Wanda cupped Y/N's cheeks, looking into her eyes earnestly, and said, "You did what you had to do to survive, what you felt was right in that moment because you were scared. The only one at fault there is Hannah, and she doesn't deserve for you to even talk to her."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she said, "You're right, Wanda. I'm sorry."

Wanda shook her head and reassured Y/N, "Don't apologize. I just care about you way more than you could ever realize. But that's not important right now. All that matters is I won't let anyone hurt you or make you feel bad."

Y/N was a bit puzzled by Wanda's words but decided to trust her. She sighed, realizing that blocking Hannah from her life was the right choice. Meanwhile, Wanda was inwardly panicking, hoping she hadn't inadvertently revealed her true feelings for Y/N, which ran deeper than friendship.

...

During one of the Avengers' lively parties, Y/N found herself indulging a bit too much in alcohol. As the night progressed, she grew increasingly drunk, stumbling through the festivities until she spotted Wanda amidst the crowd.

With unsteady steps, Y/N made her way to Wanda, her drunken confidence fueling her actions. She grabbed Wanda's suit collar and pulled her closer, pressing her lips onto Wanda's in a passionate, albeit inebriated, kiss. To Y/N's surprise, Wanda responded with equal fervor, at least for a brief moment.

Wanda gently pulled back, her concern evident in her eyes. She murmured, "Wait, Y/N. You're drunk. I don't want to do this when you're like that."

Y/N pouted and tried to kiss Wanda again, but Wanda stopped her firmly, realizing the importance of consent and sobriety. Instead, she decided it was best to get Y/N back to her room and ensure she was safe.

With some effort, Wanda managed to guide Y/N to her room, where Y/N promptly fell onto the bed. She tugged Wanda down with her, and Wanda landed on top of her. Y/N seized Wanda's lips once more, prompting a brief kiss before Wanda gently pulled back again, repeating, "Y/N, I said no. If you want to do this, we'll do it when you're sober."

Y/N pouted but eventually relented, mumbling, "Okay, I don't wanna be like Hannah, not gonna force you."

Wanda frowned, caressing Y/N's cheek tenderly. "You're nothing like her, babygirl," she reassured Y/N. "Now, let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed."

Wanda helped Y/N brush her teeth, and the process of getting Y/N out of her dress proved challenging but ultimately successful. Y/N, now clad in just her underwear, crawled into bed and tucked herself in.

Wanda, ever the caring friend, chuckled at Y/N's antics and placed a bucket nearby in case Y/N felt sick. She leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on Y/N's forehead. "Goodnight," she whispered.

As Wanda moved to pull away, Y/N grabbed her by the suit, pulling her close. "Stay in bed tonight with me, please," Y/N pleaded. "I hate sleeping alone."

Wanda smiled warmly and agreed, "Okay, angel." She quickly shed her suit, found some pajamas in Y/N's closet, and settled into the bed beside her intoxicated friend, ready to keep her company throughout the night.

In the morning, Y/N woke up with a pounding headache, regretting the excessive drinking from the previous night. With closed eyes, she turned in the bed, hoping to find some comfort. However, when she felt someone's presence next to her, her eyes snapped open in surprise.

Y/N's bleary gaze fell on Wanda, who was already awake and scrolling through her phone. Y/N let out a groggy stretch, trying to shake off the remnants of her hangover. As she moved, she became acutely aware of her state of undress, clad only in her underwear. Her cheeks flushed crimson, and she muttered an embarrassed "fuck" under her breath.

Wanda, hearing Y/N's mumbled exclamation, glanced over at her with a teasing smirk and said, "Feeling a bit exposed there, Y/N?"

Y/N buried her face in the pillow, her voice muffled as she replied, "Don't remind me. Last night was a blur."

Wanda chuckled softly and continued scrolling through her phone, giving Y/N a moment to gather her thoughts and recover from the effects of the night before.

With a nervous blush still lingering on her cheeks, Y/N gathered the courage to ask, "Um, Wanda, did we... you know?"

Wanda shook her head gently and replied, "No, we didn't. You wanted to, but I didn't want to do anything until you were sober."

Y/N felt a mixture of relief and embarrassment flood over her. She stammered, "I'm sorry. I, uh, remember I kissed you, and that's all."

Wanda smiled warmly and reassured her, "Yes, you did, and I'm happy because of that. Don't get me wrong; I've been wanting to do that for a while. But I didn't want it to solely happen because you were drunk."

Y/N raised her eyebrows in surprise and asked, "You wanted to kiss me?"

Wanda sighed, her gaze softening as she admitted, "I've liked you since I saw you. But I didn't want to overwhelm you with my feelings, especially with everything going on in your life."

Y/N couldn't help but smile at Wanda's confession. She cupped Wanda's cheeks and leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet and genuine kiss. Wanda kissed her back, their connection growing stronger with each passing moment.

When they pulled back, Y/N asked with a playful glint in her eye, "Is that okay?"

Wanda hummed contentedly and replied, "Only if you let me take you out on a date."

Y/N laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time, and agreed, "It's a deal." They sealed their newfound understanding with another passionate kiss, looking forward to what the future held for their budding relationship.

#wanda x reader #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff

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