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honeylations · 5 months

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KIM MINJEONG x FEM!READER

Prompt: Minjeong, your best friend (and secret crush), lied to her parents about having a girlfriend. You didn’t expect that YOU were the girlfriend. Let’s see how your heart plays out.

Warnings/Notes: loser nerd Minjeong, g!p Minjeong, eventual smut, best friends to lovers

A/N: more loser Minjeong because she’s so cute

‘Sorry, will be a few mins late!’ Was Minjeong’s last text before you found yourself sitting alone in the Uni’s library for what was supposed to be exam prepping.

However the ‘few mins’ that Minjeong said ended up being almost half an hour and you were close to ditching the plan for a matcha latte, but the taller girl touched your shoulder which almost sent you into cardiac arrest.

“Jesus Jeongie! Don’t sneak up on my like that!”

“I’m sorry for making you wait! Something happened at home so I couldn’t just leave” she sighed and sat beside you.

She was wearing her oversized Minecraft shirt and baggy jeans. Complimented with her old and extremely dirty converses that you told her to throw away. Her short hair was tied into a mini ponytail and her adorable black glasses were taped together in the middle after she accidentally got hit with a basketball in the face.

Oh your adorable nerdy Jeongie :(

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked softly once seeing her stressed state.

She nodded cutely. Like a little puppy. But that thought went out the window when she rested her arm around the back of your chair, leaning closely so no one else would hear what she was gonna say.

Your stomach started to do flips from the close proximity. Her big eyes looked into yours desperately, like she was asking for help.

“Please don’t get mad, Y/n-ie”

“What’s wrong Jeongie?”

She sighed once more and looked away for a split second before meeting your eyes again. My God, she was so hot.

“I may or may not have told my parents that you were my girlfriend…”

That’s when you lost your voice. The air around you felt thick and there was only one way you were able to respond.

You punched her face.

Minjeong grunted and fell out of her seat from the sudden blow. She held her cheek and turned to you in shock. “What the hell Y/n!”

“Are you kidding me Minjeong? What the hell happened for you to lie like that!”

She stood up, still holding her pained cheek. “Both of my sisters got girlfriends leaving me stuck like some virgin loser with no life! What else was I supposed to do? My parents are on my tail and I couldn’t let them know that I’m still refusing to have some human interaction while playing with legos”

You threw a small tantrum. “So what, we just hold hands for the rest of our lives?”

“Look, I just want you to come for dinner tonight. Have some simple conversations with them and it’ll seal the deal. They won’t bother me anymore after”

She was making it harder for you to say no. You wanted her so bad as your girlfriend since you first met but not in the situation she has currently put you in. Letting go of her face, she walked up to you and gently rubbed your shoulders.

You looked up and felt the butterflies again. Why couldn’t the girlfriend thing just be real instead?

“Please Y/n-ie. I really need your help”

Well that was enough to convince you. Talk about being whipped.

“Alright Jeongie. But you owe me big time”

“Yes yes of course! Thank you!” She cutely celebrated and pulled you in for a tight hug.

“I’ll send you my parent’s address. Come at 7 okay? You can even sleep over my dorm afterwards”

“That sounds nice. I haven’t slept over your dorm in a while”

She shrugged. “We get too busy nowadays”

“Yeah we do. Do I have to dress nicely?”

Minjeong looked up to think for a moment before nodding. “Might as well. I’ll dress nice too”

“Alright. Let’s start studying”

You stood at the front door and rang the bell, quickly adjusting the short tight dress just in time for Minjeong to open the door to greet you.

You found yourself stuck in a trance as your best friend revealed herself in a black button up and slacks. The top 3 buttons were undone to reveal the chain necklace you gifted her ages ago.

Minjeong wasn’t wearing her glasses either and her short brown hair wasn’t tied in her usual ponytail. Her hair was free and looking so fluffy as she ran her fingers through it.

“Y/n welcome!” She gave that ever so handsome smile while hugging you.

Her perfume was stronger than usual, almost intoxicating you.

“Jeongie you look so…”

“Different? Yeah I know. It feels a bit weird” she giggled and looked at her own outfit.

“I was gonna say hot but yeah that works too”

Her lips parted adorably. “You think so?”

“Don’t get too happy now” you winked as she allowed you inside and to the kitchen where her parents and two sisters were seated at the table.

“Just go with the flow. It’ll be okay” she whispered in your ear before gently holding your hand. “Everyone, this is my girlfriend, Jang Y/n. Y/n, these are my parents and my two sisters Chaewon and Taeyeon”

You bowed and flashed a bright smile. “Pleasure to finally meet you all!”

“I didn’t think our little JeongJeong was able to pull such a pretty woman” Taeyeon smiled, making you instantly blush.

You felt Minjeong’s hand tighten around yours and you noticed her jaw clenching. Chaewon picked up on it aswell and began laughing.

“Oh relax Minjeong, no one’s planning to steal your girl. Tone down the jealousy”

“I’m not jealous. Come on Y/n, take a seat” she said and pulled the chair out for you to sit on.

She took her own seat afterwards and returned to holding your hand again. “Also guys, please don’t overwhelm my girlfriend with too many questions okay? I’m sure she’s tired already from her uni lectures today”

“Oh you study Y/n?” Her Dad asked with crossed arms as if he was studying you.

“Yes sir, I’m a pharmacy student” you answered proudly, earning an impressed reaction from the family.

“Is that so? May I ask why?”

“My dad currently owns a pharmacy and I hope to open my own after graduation”

“Awe you’re such a sweetheart” Minjeong’s mom cooed, holding your free hand. “Let’s not bother her any longer, honey” She whispered to her husband and then smiling at you again.

“Let’s eat now”

And that’s how the remainder of the dinner went. Chaewon and Taeyeon asked a few more casual questions here and there to get to know you better and surprisingly the 3 of you clicked. You and Chaewon love mint chocolate ice cream whereas you and Taeyeon used to play the violin.

That’s when the two older Kim sisters brought out expensive wine for you to share and then you got a bit carried away from the delectable taste.

Chaewon was slightly worse. Only two glasses in and she was passed out at the dinner table. Taeyeon was more responsible, being the eldest sibling as she took reasonable sips of the liquor. You just chugged every pour and your red cheeks were enough of a sign for Minjeong to confiscate the glass from you.

“That’s enough, Y/n”

“Awe man” you whined and let your head fall onto her shoulder.

“I didn’t expect the dinner to end like this. Sorry Mom and Dad. I promise you she doesn’t usually drink so carelessly” Minjeong smiled sheepishly at her smiling parents

“Sometimes a uni student needs their break” Her mom giggled.

“Thanks for introducing her to us, darling. She’s a gem you need to take care of. If I find out you made her cry, I’m hunting YOU down” Her dad joked, earning a nudge from his wife.

“Thanks guys. It’s time to take her home. I’ll visit you guys again next weekend once exams are over” Minjeong told.

She stood up with you leaning into her arms like a sleepy toddler.

“That sounds lovely. Do bring Y/n again if you can”

“I’ll ask her. Have a goodnight, I love you both”

You woke up during the car ride back to Minjeong’s dorm, feeling a bit dizzy from the wine. “Jeongie?”

“Hey, silly. Didn’t expect you to wake up so soon”

You sat up in the passenger seat and started scanning the view of your supposed to be nerdy best friend driving. She looked so attractive?

She had one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear stick, unintentionally displaying the rings on her index and middle finger.

“What’s going on?”

“You’re sleeping over my place remember? Unless you changed your mind. I can drive you to your place instead”

“No no!” You quickly panicked, surprising Minjeong a little.

“Cool. You feeling better?”

The effects of the alcohol were coming back as your eyes did their own thing again, starting from your best friend’s Adam’s Apple down to her unbuttoned shirt and finally…her crotch.

You remember accidentally walking in on her changing out of her pants and seeing quite an impressive size underneath her boxers but that was when Minjeong’s dick was flaccid. It made you wonder the size when hard.

“I’d suck your dick until my jaw dislocates” You randomly blurt out.

Minjeong’s eyes went wide, almost sending the car flying with how hard she slammed on the brakes. “W-What?”

The wine was giving you more confidence than needed so you decided to continue by running a hand from her knee up to her crotch and giving a gentle squeeze. Minjeong’s hands tightened around the wheel as she continued driving.

“Y-Y/n, we’re gonna crash”

“You don’t understand how badly I’ve wanted you, Jeongie” you husked, hand never leaving her bulge.

“Y-You want me?” She cutely squeaked, eyes darting from your hand to the road.

“Always wanted you. The faster you drive us, the faster you get to fucking me, baby” you whispered hotly in her ear and kissing the lobe after.

“Fuck”

You found out that same night that Minjeong didn’t like taking things slow. You were both already naked on her bed, her hand wrapped around your throat while she kissed you like she was starved.

She quickly sat up and fished out a condom but you snatched it from her and threw it away. “I want it raw, baby”

“Do you just let anyone fuck you raw?”

“No, just you. You’re all I ever think about”

Minjeong cursed under her breath before kissing you again, already pushing in her cock inside your desperate cunt. Her lips moved to the space on your neck that her hand wasn’t covering, sucking and biting while your back arched.

“Oh my god, Jeongie”

She smirked into your skin and began moving her hips. “My pretty cock sleeve”

Her words, her actions, her tone were beyond your expectations. A loser nerd girl who was also fucking hot under the sheets and knows how to use her dick? There’s nothing else you could’ve wanted.

“Ah!” You gasped at a particular hard thrust, pushing Minjeong’s head closer to your skin that she continued marking.

“Fuck Princess, need you to be mine” she growled and the hand she had on your throat had pinned your wrists above your head, letting you see her biceps under the dim lighting and her hot face, shining with sweat.

Her chain was dangling just above your nose as her movements became rougher. She bit on her lower lip and released a muffled moan that got you clenching.

“Shit. Gonna fucking cum, Y/n-ie”

“Yes please, Jeongie! I want to be yours”

She leaned down to kiss your nipples and then your lips. “Gonna claim you, okay baby? Not only will you be my girlfriend but you’ll be my personal cum dump too. How does that sound?” She smirked evilly, watching you nod.

“Yes yes yes! Fucking have me. I’ll be anything you want!”

“Good” Minjeong simply said before flipping you over with your ass up.

She held your hips and began fucking you from behind like a mad dog, slapping your ass hard enough to leave a mark. You cried into the sheets as you fisted the ruined blanket, looking to the side and seeing the lewd reflection in the mirror.

You could see Minjeong’s lips parted as she destroyed your insides, almost setting them on fire. “Fuck, gonna cum in this delicious pussy of yours, baby”

You chanted a bunch of “yes”’s as the bed started ramming into the wall. Your eyes rolled back and you released a scream, feeling yourself explode your cum all over Minjeong’s big cock, but she continued to pound into you chasing for her own release.

“Fucking take it, bitch” she panted, feeling the familiar tightness in her abdomen. “Holy shit, Y/n!”

You moaned at the warm feeling of her cum fill your insides, certain that it was going to trickle out of you. Minjeong pulled out and kissed your right ass cheek before staring intently at the white liquid escaping your abused pussy.

“I came a lot for a virgin” she chuckled, making your head whip so fast.

“You’re a virgin?!”

“I thought it would be obvious with, you know, the Minecraft shirts, my Roblox merch…”

“You’re a virgin but you literally fucked me like that?!” You said breathlessly.

“Pleasing a woman doesn’t seem so hard. Porn sites are quite educational too” she winked and laid you beside her.

She pulled the sheets over your sweaty bodies and kissed your crown. “So…does this mean you’re my girlfriend now? Like for real?”

You looked up at her and giggled. “Yes it does”

“Yayyy” she scrunched her nose, personality returning to the loser Minjeong you fell in love with.

“I need to build my Lego soon” she added.

“It’s literally 4am”

“I said what I said”

#gxg #wlw #aespa smut #aespa #kim minjeong #minjeong smut #minjeong x reader #winter x reader #winter #winter smut

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souliebird · 7 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 9]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Words: 4.8k

"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"

The words leave your lips and the entire mood of the apartment shifts. Matt's frame stiffens and fear begins to course through you.

If the answer to the question was simple, he'd have no reason to react like he got caught in a lie, but that is exactly what he is doing. His posture is screaming that he knows you've realized something you shouldn't have, and it scares you. It scares you so much because you don't want Matt to be someone you can't trust.

You want so so badly to trust him. Everything was going so well, and you don't want it to be ruined so early. You haven't prepared your heart for that disappointment and instinctively you wrap your arms around yourself to stave off any potential pain.

"I can explain," Matt says, voice quiet and on the edge of pleading. He's looking at you with his own fear on his face and it triggers you to step back and away from him.

People have told you before that they can explain - that you are in the wrong for simply not understanding them - and it always ends with you hurt. So, you close your eyes and duck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for the metaphorical blow, whatever it may be.

But there is only silence.

No more than a minute of nothingness passes, but it feels like an eternity. You force your eyes open and are shocked to see Matt looking absolutely devastated. Instead of standing tall and confident in himself, like you are so used to seeing, he has completely deflated. His shoulders are slumped and his head hung. You can practically feel the self hating energy coming off of him - it is something you are so familiar with.

Guilt pools in your belly. You can't hurt him because of your distrust of others and past experiences - he's given you no reason to think anything he's doing is malicious or only self serving.

So, you take the ball back into your court, squeezing your eyes back shut and taking a deep breath before asking, "should…should we sit?"

You hear him inhale sharply and you really, really hope you are doing the right thing.

"Please?"

He sounds like he's trying to not beg, and the knot forming in your stomach squeezes around your heart.

"Can we sit on the couch?" You ask, motioning to it. You finally allow yourself to look at him again to see him nod. You lick your lips and hesitantly add, "it's about five feet to your left," before going to sit yourself. By the time you are sitting, Matt is at the back of the couch and moving around the side to sit next to you. You watch as his fingers brush along the back and arm, too anxious to dare to look at his face or the giant lasagna stain on his chest.

You let him settle before asking again, in a calmer tone, "How did you know where the window was? And that it was open?"

You feel so accusatory, but he's told you before he has absolutely no light perception and in the panic of the moment, he closed the window without any hesitation or confusion.

He rubs his hands over his knees before removing his glasses and setting them on the coffee table. He then leans back into the couch, while turning to face you, and to be respectful, you turn so you are facing him, though you keep your eyes down cast to your lap.

"I was a child when I lost my eyesight," he starts slowly, and you try to keep your stomach from clenching. "And whatever it was that got in my eyes, it enhanced my other senses. It took what remained and pushed them past what normal people should be able to do. I could hear conversations from blocks away. I could figure out what people had for lunch the day before by the smell still in their breath. I could feel what was happening around me, based on air movement on my skin. And now…. Now I can…I can use all of that, all those inputs, to act as kind of a 3D map to determine things. Like a sonar, but instead of just sound reflecting back, it's a bit of everything. I can't see with my eyes, but I do know what is happening around me. That's how I knew where the window was. I could feel the breeze coming in. I could hear where the noise came in more clearly, versus the slight muffling of the wall. I could sense where the couch was based on the same factors."

You take in what he is trying to tell you and nod just a tiny bit. What he is saying makes sense - kind of. You know it's possible for other people's senses to strengthen when they lose one, but not nearly to the degree he is explaining. It is a hard concept to wrap your mind around. But you try.

You can tell he's not used to explaining this and you can also tell he's waiting for you to be angry or upset with him. It's a feeling you are so very used to experiencing yourself - that you did something wrong, and the other person is going to leave. It's like it's tangible in the air.

You force your gaze up to Matt's face. His hazel eyes are truly windows to his soul, and he looks so scared that you are going to explode on him and your heart aches for him. You're by no means angry about him not telling you about this upfront - it's clear he's had issues with that in the past and it's not like you deserve to know all his trauma and secrets from day one just because you had his child.

But you are still confused and do want to understand.

You turn so are facing him even more fully and force words from your throat, "Can I ask you some questions?"

Matt nods his head, jerky with it, "Yes, anything."

You can tell he means it, and that eases your own anxiety. You rub at your thighs, needing to transfer your internal anxieties outward, and go for the first thing that comes to mind.

"You said…you can hear blocks away. What does that mean? You can hear everything in like...a two block radius?" You ask, hoping you aren't sounding like an absolute idiot.

Matt's lips twitch, like they want to go into a sad smile, but he keeps his face firmly in 'kicked puppy' territory, "A little more than two blocks. I haven't…tested the maximum range, but if I stand in the middle of Hell's Kitchen, I can hear almost all of it. Sort of - I learned to filter and push things into the background so it's not constant input. If I focus, I can hear the couple down the street debating about what they want for dinner. I can hear everyone in this building and the next. But it isn't just..." he trails off for a moment, biting his lip and wrinkling his brow. Like he's trying to figure out the right words. You wait, not wanting to rush him.

"It isn't just a macro experience; it is also micro. I can hear the way the pipes in your kitchen are creaking. The way your shirt brushes against your skin. The differences in your breath as you exhale…I can hear your lungs expand and contract. I can... Hear your heart - it was beating fast a few moments ago but it's started to calm. Or you're trying to keep calm. I can... Tell your adrenaline and fear are still high. You're nervous and I don't blame you."

Your brows scrunch up in disbelief, "you can…hear my heartbeat?" You look down at your own chest, reaching up to place your hand over your heart. You can feel it beating rather hard, but as Matt said, you feel like you are calming down now that the two of you are talking.

"I can hear your heartbeat," he confirms, then adds, "But I don't go around listening to those sorts of things. I try to give people their privacy."

That makes sense to you - you wouldn't want to constantly have to listen to people's body functions.

The thought triggers another question.

"Why aren't you a doctor?"

Matt opens his mouth as if to answer, then pauses as his expression morphs into bafflement. "What?"

"Why aren't you a doctor?" You repeat, then motion at him, "I mean, based on what you said, wouldn't it make sense to be a doctor?"

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, reminding you of a fish, before he shakes his head, finally, finally starting to smile again, "I, uh, never considered it. I've always wanted to be a lawyer, since I was a kid. I wanted to help people." He leans forward slightly, putting his elbows on his knees, "You learn I can hear your heartbeat and you ask why I'm not a doctor. Are you not…freaked out?"

"I mean, a little, yes," you admit with a shrug, "but also…" you look back down to your lap and clasp your hands together, squeezing a little too tightly, "You're telling me and…we're talking like adults about it. I get why you didn't tell me, and it's not like…it's not like it's something terrible. It's weird but…it's not the weirdest thing?" You bite into your lip, then, because your nature is to put everyone else's needs in front of yours, you can't help but ask, "Is there anything I can do to make things easier? I mean, is there anything in here that's too loud or something? Something I can adjust to make you more comfortable?"

He seems to need a minute to process what you are telling him before he shakes his head, "No. No, I've spent my life adjusting to everything." He takes a breath before his voice becomes a little softer, "I didn't want to hide this from you. Foggy and Karen know the truth and were helping me come up with a way to tell you that makes sense."

"You did a good job, it made sense," you quickly confirm. That makes him smile, just a little.

"I'm glad... they are also helping me make a binder, like you made for me. About everything," he mimics you, motioning to himself. "I'm hoping it will help you with Minnie."

You're confused at first why your daughter is mentioned, then the wheels quickly begin to turn.

Memories flash in your mind of Minnie saying things are too loud - all her weird little complaints you've heard since she started being able to articulate - and your stomach starts to turn as things start to slot into place.

She inherited Matt's senses.

It makes so much sense and you very suddenly feel like you need to throw up.

You scramble to stand up, clamping your hands over your mouth. Matt shoots up so he is standing beside you, reaching out to touch your arm while saying your name in concern.

"She's been trying to tell me,” you choke out. All of the emotion of the day is crashing into you. Your eyes are stinging, and you can feel the tears gathering.

You've been such an awful parent.

How could you have not listened to what she was saying? Toddlers say weird things, but she's been consistent about what she tells you and you thought it was just her imagination or exaggerations.

What has your poor baby been putting up with?

The thought of her suffering because her senses are being overwhelmed and you not helping her pushes you over the edge and you begin to cry.

Tears start to pour out of you and only years of training has you strangling the sob that tries to escape as well.

You see Matt move through blurry eyes and suddenly you are wrapped in his arms, tucked under his chin like Minnie had been.

"It's okay," he whispers into your temple, holding you firmly against his chest. You want to struggle because you are not used to being held when you cry. You aren't used to being held at all. You aren't used to crying around other people.

All of it is so much and it just makes you cry harder, awkwardly standing stiff as a board while Matt tries to comfort you.

"It's okay," he repeats, and you manage to shake your head, because none of it is okay. It isn't.

You think of all the tantrums that have resulted from her being overstimulated and try to imagine how awful she must have been feeling. You get headaches from things being just a little too loud and that has been all of her life - and you have no idea how much she can hear. Can she hear blocks away like her father can? How many horrible things has she heard that you don't know about?

How has it shaped her?

"Hey, hey, look at me," Matt says so softly you barely hear him over your own choked sobs. His hands go from holding you to his chest up to your face and he cups your jaw, gently forcing you to tilt your head up towards his. You squeeze your eyes shut, too ashamed of yourself to look right into his face. "You are an amazing mother. You care so much about Minnie and doing right by her. You said she's been trying to tell you and you've been listening. You have been. The headphones you got her? They do help. I promise you they help. Everything you do helps."

There's a gentle pressure against your forehead, and you realize Matt is touching his to yours. You can feel his nose brushing against your own. "I asked her at the park the other day what helps when things start getting too loud. Do you know what she said?"

You shake your head because you have no idea. You didn't even know they had talked without you present.

What else didn't you know about your daughter?

"She listens to your heart. When things get too much for her, she finds the thing that centers her and soothes her and that's the sound of your heart."

You try to process his words but it's another gut punch to your emotions. It's a swell of love for your sweet little angel with a mix of horror because how often has she needed to center herself on you?

Matt smooths his thumbs over your cheeks, pushing away tears that are still streaming down them. "You take such good care of her. It blew my mind the first time we were all together, that you're so attentive and loving. You care so much. I didn't understand how I was so lucky that you were the one I got to have a child with. Someone with such a good heart. I thought you must have been mistaken because I certainly don't deserve you. I don't deserve Minnie. But you let me in and I have been praying that I can be a fraction of what a good parent you are. Minnie loves you so much. You've done so good with her. You didn't know about her senses, but how could you, and you still did so much to help her. And now that you do know, I know you'll do everything within your power to help her. And I will as well. I promise. It's okay. She's okay."

You try to focus on Matt's words, but it is so hard. Your crying is quickly cascading from emotional crying to being completely panicked anxiety crying.

You aren't used to being comforted. You aren't used to people telling you it's okay and you did good. It's confusing and you don't know how to act. You don't know what you are supposed to do.

Are you supposed to calm down? How do you calm down? How do you just stop crying?

And his hands are so warm on your face. They are surprisingly rough, but they feel good, petting you so gently. He's so close everywhere - you're still right against him from when he was holding you. You can taste his breath.

It feels like he's right on top of you - he practically is - and you suddenly can't breathe. It feels like your esophagus has locked up and you can no longer swallow air.

Fear surges up your spine and before it can take hold, a low resonating bong goes through your mind, telling you to go get a glass of water.

It's something you've trained into your mind, taking years to perfect.

To prevent a panic attack, drink a glass of water.

"I need water," you manage to say before pulling away from Matt and go purposefully to the kitchen, ordering yourself to not rush. You have a specific glass you use on these occasions and pull it from the top shelf. You hear Matt follow you into the kitchen, but you force yourself to focus on getting out your water pitcher and pouring your glass of water. Your hands are shaking and water is splashing on the side of the glass.

Once it is full, you refill the pitcher and put it away, before returning to your glass. You drink slowly, taking a sip, swallowing, taking a breath, then repeating. Matt keeps his distance as he waits for you. He looks concerned and he keeps flexing his hands and you have to avert your gaze because it is making you anxious again.

Tears are still streaming down your face but with each breath, you regain control of your emotions. You pull them back in and reorganize your thoughts. First, you must deal in facts.

Fact - Matt has enhanced senses due to the accident where he lost his eyesight. Fact - Matt is Minnie's father. Fact - Minnie inherited Matt's enhanced senses. Fact - having enhanced senses can be overwhelming for your daughter and it causes tantrums.

These are your facts, one of which is a problem, the over stimulation, and you need to find a solution to it, but to find a solution you need to know the trigger.

You finish your glass of water and set it in the sink to wash later, then turn to face Matt. He looks so worried, but now that you are looking at him, he perks up - attentive and waiting for you to address him.

You wonder what signals your body is giving him - can he sense your change in demeanor?

"Do you know what upset her at dinner? Why she started crying?" You ask, hoping you don't sound like a complete mess.

Matt nods quickly, ready to explain, "the building behind us on this block's fire alarm started going off. Based on what I can tell, a rat chewed through a wire and set it off somehow. The second tantrum was from a fire truck arriving - it had it's sirens going off "

You stare at Matt in wonder. You heard none of that. The window was wide open and you didn't hear a siren at all, and if you did you automatically put it into the background of your mind.

"It was on the other side of the block," he says, like he knows exactly what you are thinking, "and we're facing the wrong direction. There's no chance you would have been able to hear it."

Your hands clench into fists at your side, dread starting to build up inside of you and threatening to pull more tears, "how can I protect her from things I can't hear?"

Matt's face softens into something understanding. He hesitantly steps forward, and as he reaches for you, you understand his love language is touch. He's trying to comfort you through touch, and by extension, comfort himself. This must be horrible for him, you realize with a start. He told you this big secret and you proceeded to freak the fuck out on him.

He needs comfort as well. He needs someone telling him it's okay.

You're being so selfish again.

He touches your arm and begins to ghost his fingers up and down it, barely pushing at the sleeves of your T-shirt. The back of his fingers are rough, but the sensation isn't terrible. You are still so unsure what you are supposed to do, so you take a breath and take a small step closer to him then decide the best course of action is to ignore the petting.

"You can't protect her, but we can help give her the tools to protect herself. She was born with it and has adapted naturally. I had to be taught and have had a lifetime to learn. That's why I want to make that guide for you. I fully intended to tell you everything, and still do," he ducks his head and becomes almost sheepish, “I was just…trying to do it in the right way?"

You absorb his words and let them roll around in your mind, ignoring for now the implication there are more people with enhanced senses than just Matt.

"You can teach her?" You confirm after a few moments.

"We can both teach her. I told you before, you've already helped so much. No one has ever gotten me sound proof headphones - and certainly not a dozen different pairs. We can talk to her together and she can tell us what she needs," he says and it does sound like he's thought this through.

And that brings you comfort.

He has a plan. He's coming at this prepared and with research and consultants.

He's committed.

You don't need to search for a solution because he already has one.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and your shoulders relax.

A literal sigh of relief.

"Thank you," you whisper and Matt quickly shakes his head, but before you can say anything, the larger red stain on his shirt catches your eye again and your Mom brain activates. "Matt, your shirt!"

He looks down at his chest, clearly confused by the sudden change in conversation and tone, "what about my shirt?"

"There's lasagna all over it. It's going to stain so badly. Here, let me get you another shirt," you pull away from him and start hurrying towards the bedroom. You wipe at your tears as you call back to him, "I think I can still get the stain out. It's still wet."

In the bedroom, Minnie has rolled over and is now face down on her bed, sprawled out like a starfish. You know from that she will not be awake until morning. She must be so exhausted, your poor Mouse. Guilt swirls in your belly and you vow you're going to learn to help prevent this.

You're not going to let her suffer any longer.

You look away from your daughter to rummage through your dresser. You grab one of your largest T-shirts and quickly leave the room, lest you disturb your daughter. You head back down the short hallway to the main living area, hoping what you got will be big enough for Matt.

You look up from your musings as you come around the corner and freeze.

Matt's taken his shirt off.

You are very intimately aware that he was in shape before, but this is a different level. His muscles are well defined and his biceps are at least as big as Minnie's head. You've never seen someone with v-cut abs in person and you feel your cheeks start to heat up because you are only human and your brain is definitely short circuiting.

You force your eyes away from how his hips disappear into his pants and up his chest.

There are scars, all across his torso, long and deliberate. They don't look surgical, even with the sight symmetry of some. Going over one of the smaller scars on his right side is a nasty bruise that seems to wrap around to his back. It looks painful and at least a few days old by the coloring.

Your instinct is to ask if he is alright, but you clamp it down.

You understand.

You understand this extension of trust, silent and hopeful but terrified, and you take it and cradle it to your heart. He will tell you in time. You have to trust him.

You have to trust whatever is blooming between the two of you.

But does he really need to be so insanely hot? Was it not complicated enough?

Matt calls your name, breaking you out of your thoughts. He sounds more than a little smug.

"Sorry, it has been a long day. Um, I think this will fit you," you step forward and hold it out, asking as you do, "Do I need to tell you where it is or…?"

He shakes his head with a chuckle, and you wonder how many times people have asked him such questions, "You can just toss it at me. It's okay, I understand."

You feel rude but do as you are told. He catches it easily, and after turning it over in his hands to orient it, pulls it on.

"What's it got on it?" He asks, rubbing his hands over his chest to feel the screen print, unintentionally emphasizing how broad he is.

You blame your slight delay in response on your exhaustion.

"It's... got the word 'cosmos' on it with a galaxy print behind it. It's from that old science show with um...I don't know his name. I just remember something about the universe being a pie?" You answer, wishing you'd actually looked at what you had grabbed him.

But Matt nods anyways, like he understands what you mean, "Carl Sagan?"

The name rings a bell, and you shrug, honestly not remembering in the moment, "I think that's it, I never was a big science person but the shirt was free..."

He chuckles at your answer and you have to look away from him, shuffling towards the couch instead. It isn't fair how good he looks. The shirt is one you wear every so often to sleep and now you very much understand the trope of men enjoying women wearing their t-shirts and you've already experienced too many emotions today to try to process that.

You plop down and put your head into your hands. Exhaustion is creeping into your bones and your eyes ache from crying and it feels like you've been hit with the emotional equivalent of an eighteen wheeler. You feel the couch dip as he sits beside you and a moment later, Matt's fingers are tracing up and down your spine. It feels like a feather and instead of locking up at the touch, you find yourself slumping more.

"How're you doing?" He asks and part of you wants to laugh.

"I don't know," you admit, "it is a lot to take in at once. I just want to make sure I'm doing the right thing - with Minnie. With you. Not just with…your senses, but with everything. I don't want to mess up."

"You won't mess up," Matt assures you and he sounds so confident that you want to believe him. "Things might not always be easy, but you won't mess up. I believe in you."

You don't know how to respond to that. You haven't had anyone tell you they believe in you in so long. It sends this sort of warmth through you that you don't understand and the only thing you can think of to do is hide your face more into your hands.

He doesn't press for more as you both sit there. The silence somehow isn't awkward, even as minutes start to creep by. He continues to run his fingers up and down your back and it doesn't take long for your eyes to start to feel heavy. You tell yourself to get up, you still have to clean up the mess from dinner, but your body doesn't listen.

You just want to sit.

All you want to do is just sit.

You'll get up in a minute. You just need to recharge. You keep telling yourself that, even as you feel your body start to sag and your thoughts start to fade in and out. You don't notice as your exhaustion starts to take over and you begin to drift - and you don't notice as Matt helps you lay down on the couch or when a blanket is draped over you.

As your thoughts finally allow sleep to take over, the last thing your mind lets you process is the brush of lips against your temple and gentle words whispered against your skin.

Tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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madelynraemunson · 1 month

Text

CASUAL part 2

see part one here.

modern!incel!asshole! eddie x fem!reader

It’s 7 in the morning. Eddie is seen doom-pacing in the halls of Hawkins High.

a/n: i promised y’all part 2 so here ya go. let’s make him pay. 💋 also shout out to @love-anonymous-writer for bringing this universe to life. a little angst here and there is good for the soul <3

who got the last laugh?

[WC: 1.1k words]

“Please respond…please respond…please respond…”

The soles of Eddie’s shoes slam against the tiles of Hawkins High as he rushes to your locker. Meanwhile his entire soul has left his body.

You didn’t answer any of his phone calls. All the texts he sent you were left on read. Having been so accustomed to your instant replies, Eddie essentially catapulted himself into a full-blown panic last night when he saw the ominous text you sent him...and the nothingness from you that followed soon after.

The crickets of Forrest Hills that taunted his eardrums later that night served as a vengeful metaphor of the brick wall you built between you and him. The girl who once gave him everything has now started giving him nothing. You’re nowhere, but everywhere. It’s like you’ve become a ghost.

When he sees you, color drains from Eddie’s guilty face. You look so beautiful today, hair curled down to the small of your back, a nice simple dress and some slippers, with makeup ever so gracefully applied. A class act, even when plagued with the utmost disrespect.

“Hi," he says to you as he approaches.

“Hi.”

As far as Munson knows, he no longer exists to you. He's a shadow now, a carapace of a boy you used to love 'cuz now — after hearing what you heard in his trailer — you know he's not the same boy that made you feel all the butterflies. That boy is long gone. You even start to wonder if that version of Eddie even existed.

“C-can we talk, please?” he requests.

“What’s to talk about?” you challenge him, stoically. “Don’t wanna annoy you with my rambling.”

“You never annoy me…” he attempts as you mindlessly comb through your locker for your homeroom notebook.

“Mm.”

You were casual about it. Too casual about it.

“You… uh…” he clears his throat. “You made me cookies yesterday?”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I was at your door for quite a while so you must’ve been busy. Cookies were taken care of though.”

“I see…” Eddie mutters as the pieces all start coming together.

He thinks about how he always leaves his windows cracked open. His uncle would whoop his ass if he hot-boxed the trailer again, so it became a habit. But the trailer park is small, and on certain afternoon, if someone from a nearby unit had dropped a pin, Eddie would hear it. Suddenly, fear arises in him.

Surely, you didn't hear everything he and The Boys™️ said. He had his headphones on and he couldn't have possibly been that loud, could he? Unless technology failed him again.

The warning bell sounds throughout the halls and you excuse yourself from the narrative. Eddie tags after you like a lost puppy, nearly tripping on his shoelaces along the way.

"W-wait!"

The first class of the morning is homeroom. A class you unfortunately shared with Eddie, Grant, and Harmony.

You didn't want to see any of their faces. Eddie's face would serve as a reminder of how fake and construed the fucker is. Grant's would remind you of how insignificant you were to the guys (despite how welcomed they made you feel at the start). And Harmony. Harmony's beautiful face — with a body far too developed for a girl in her grade to match — would only remind you of the fact that the girl didn't inherently do anything to you... other than be beautiful and get caught in the crossfire of horny, greasy teenage boys.

It’s a fucking mess.

You swallow hard and keep your chin up regardless. Because what other choice do you have? You either feign your confidence or let irrelevant boys crush it.

You continue strutting over to your seat as Eddie trails behind at a measurable distance. Along the way, you inevitably run into the Junior Queen of Hawkins High herself, Harmony Heathers.

Harmony issues you a sweet smile. You smile back at her in return. And you didn't even need to turn your back to know that Eddie most likely did a double-take when sliding past her.

The late bell rings, indicating the start of class.

“Okay,” your homeroom teacher Mrs. Helleck exhales as she clasps her hands together. “Good morning everybody. For Red Ribbon Week this week, we’re gonna be doing a group project. Worth 20-percent of your grade.”

The class erupts in agonistic groans while Mrs. Helleck attempts to calm them down. You feel Eddie’s gaze burn into you, indicative to the fact that he was looking forward to using you again like he always seems to do. This time around it would be for a grade instead of a two-pump fuck. But you had something else in mind.

“You will be doing a presentation,” Helleck continues. “With a partner of your choice. Your job is to create a slogan along with a list of reasons why you should stay away from drugs.”

“Drugs Instead of Hugs,” Grant mutters to Eddie.

The general vicinity collectively praises his lukewarm wannabe 4-Chan edged joke.

You roll your eyes while your poor homeroom teacher tries to proceed with her instructions, despite the immature snickers.

“You will be presenting with your partner on Friday. Do not wait until last minute to do this assignment please. Deadlines catch up to you fast.”

Mrs. Helleck makes her way over to you.

Like Dungeons and Dragons, everyone in the class is assigned a “classroom role”. You’re the leader of the pack, the ‘foreman’, to which you never understood because up until today you never had the confidence to call the shots. The alphabet has never been on your side anyways.

“Now dear,” your teacher smiles down at you. “Since your last name starts with an A, you get first choice. Who would you like to work with?”

Eddie’s gaze is extra fixated on you now. It gives you a greater deal of satisfaction than tossing those cookies ever did. It was you who had the reigns now, instead of those woman-patronizing incels.

You start to smile connivingly, to which the guys start to gulp over. You can tell they’re putting two and two together, their two brain cells collectively working over time to discover that you had a delicious upper-cut up your sleeve.

It’s the very least they can do. If they wanted to taint your name to smithereens in your absence, you’re sure as hell going to give them something else to lose their minds about in Math 3.

And when all eyes are fixated on you, you tilt your chin up to project your voice. You want to make sure everyone, especially Grant and Eddie, hear you loud and clear when you sinisterly announce,

“I pick Harmony.”

tag list: @damp4eddie @eddiesguitarskills @babygirl229 @love-anonymous-writer @ziggeddie @socially-awkward-eliza @shesahellfirebabe @ali-r3n @yourdailymemedelivery @mincloud @jupitersnights @ineedtosusoutmyreadinglist @whisperingtales @fearlessreid @emma-munson

divider by: @benkeibear

#eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson mini series #requests #maddy’s requests 🍸#part 2 #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you

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writerslittlelibrary · 7 months

Text

I'm your mother now, chapter 1

masterlist series masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

summary: when you wake up in a strange room, you soon come to realize the amazing Black Widow, who appears to be the perfect role model for girls all around the world, is greatly deranged…

pairing: Dark!Natasha x teen reader

warnings: yelling, a lot of swearing, dark themes, kinda evil Natasha

genre: angst

words: 2972

a/n: I really wanted to write a dark Natasha fic but I didn't want to make it romantic or anything, so I went with the idea of Natasha kidnapping a child. Please don't read this if you are not comfortable with dark themes. Reader is kinda abused but that's because of Natasha's trauma.

Hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think :)

(I decided to make this a series, as I have so many ideas but find them simply too long for one fic. I will probably make a separate masterlist for the series)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You dropped your bag on the floor, kicking your shoes off and walking through the house, allowing yourself to fall on the couch in exhaustion. You were in highschool, and no matter what teacher you'd ask, they all called you their best student.

You passed every test, got good grades for every project, but mentally you were slipping. You hated your life. You hated the stupid loop you were trapped in. Every day is the same. You were tired.

Your foster parents were scheduled to come home after dinner, so you knew you'd be able to lie on the couch for a while without being yelled at.

So that's what you did.

You took a nap on the couch, enjoying the quietness of the house, when a noise upstairs catches you off guard.

You get up slowly, carefully walking up the stairs. You had seen horror movies, and you knew what a bad idea it was, yet you decided to do it anyway. You creeped up the stairs, through the hallway and made it to your bedroom. It was small and there weren't many places to hide, but you were cautious anyway.

Your window was open. The curtain was moving slightly due to the breeze outside. A shiver ran down your back. You had that feeling again. The same feeling you've had for the past few weeks. The feeling of being watched.

You walked to your window carefully, pushing it close and locking it. Didn't you lock it yesterday?

Before you could even turn around, an arm clasped around your waist and a hand holding a cloth covered your mouth and nose. You tried to scream and try to get out of the person's grip, but it was of little use. The person holding you was strong. Way stronger than you were.

You flung around in their grasp, trying to hit the arms that were holding you, but it was of no use. You heard a woman's voice behind you, shushing you and telling you it's all gonna be okay. Your eyes started drooping, falling close. The last thing you heard was a simple sentence….

“Shh baby, mama's got you…”

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

Natasha had been observing you for weeks. She saw you in the park one day, sitting on a bench. You appeared to be okay, but she could see the way you were holding back tears. It took everything in her not to walk up to you and comfort you.

After that day, she decided to watch you more often. She watched you when you picked out your clothes. She watched you when you went to school. She watched you when you came home and got yelled at. She watched all of it.

After watching you for about a week, she decided to do some more research. She had to know everything about you. You were absolutely perfect.

She found out about your parents, how they left you in front of the police station one night. They didn't want you, and Natasha's heart broke. The foster families you were placed with didn't care much for you either. You were often heavily neglected, and you never knew real love.

From what Natasha had seen, you were barely capable of taking care of yourself. She wondered how often you showered, how often you ate and if you even brushed your teeth.

No one seemed to have taught you how to live, and it broke Natasha's heart. She was determined to make you feel loved. She knew it was fate. She had to take care of you. It was simply meant to be.

Natasha had been trying to have a child for so long. After her past in the Red Room, she knew she'd never be able to conceive herself, but she had tried everything there was. She had gone to adoption agencies and tried to adopt. She had applied to become a foster mom but nothing worked. She'd pass most criteria, but when the psychological tests came her test scores dropped. The authorities simply deemed her to mentally unstable to take care of a child.

Natasha was mad. Mad at the authorities and mad at herself. She just wanted a child. That's all she's ever wanted. How on earth did anyone dare deny her that.

After she was denied for foster care, she was upset, but she didn't dare give up. Natasha was determined that she would find someone for her to take care of, and she did. Anyone in their right mind could see it. You were destined to be with Natasha.

After observing you for quite a while, Natasha decided it was time. You were crying almost every night, the stress of school and your grades were simply too much. Natasha couldn't bear to see you like this any longer, so she finally decided to make her move. She snuck in when you were at school. She didn't even have to sneak in through the window. The doors had an easy lock, and she could easily pick it open.

When she made her way inside, she immediately went up to your room. She looked through it, smelling your clothes, touching your bed and everything you owned, which wasn't a lot.

She clutched your only stuffed animal tightly to her chest, a tear rolling down her cheek. She was finally going to be a mom, and she couldn't wait.

She collected some of your stuff, but only the stuff she couldn't replace, which included some notebooks, coloring books and your stuffed animal of course. She stuffed it in a bag and put all of it in her car. After she finished, she made her way back inside and waited.

When she heard you come home, she was nearly jumping at the anticipation and excitement.

She started making some noises, hoping you'd come upstairs soon. She had opened the window in your room, knowing you'd walk over to close it. You did that every day. If you forgot to close the window, you'd close it after coming home from school.

Soon enough, she heard you walking upstairs, peeking through the door of the bathroom. She waited until you went into your bedroom, indeed closing the window as she expected.

The moment you weren't looking, she snuck into your room and quickly covered your face, making you inhale the Chloroform she'd put on the cloth. You were flailing around heavily, trying to get loose from her grasp, but she just held on tight.

Natasha tried to comfort you, shushing you as you slowly lost consciousness.

After you had passed out, she carefully lifted you up, walking down the stairs and, after grabbing your school bag, walking back to her car. She was careful as she placed you on the backseat, protecting your head as you slept peacefully.

She placed your stuffed animal in your arms, smiling at the sight of you fast asleep. She got into the driver's seat and took off, driving you two far away from the big city.

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

You groaned as the light hit your eyes, covering them with your hand as you blinked a few times, trying to get used to it. You stretched your arms above your head, slowly waking up from your deep slumber.

The bed you were laying on was soft, way softer and more comfortable than you were used to, but you didn't really notice. The drugs were still wearing off, your brain pleasantly fuzzy as you slowly regained control over all of your senses.

When you yawned and brought your hand up to your face, you finally realized the clothes you were wearing were not yours.

You sat up quickly, scanning the room and realizing it looked nothing like yours. It was way too big, but it did seem to be arranged to your style and interests. You took in the room, confused as to how you got there and why it seemed to be accommodated perfectly to your wants and needs.

You slowly slid your legs off the bed, sitting on the edge and carefully standing up, afraid your weary state would make you fall over. The pajamas you were wearing were soft and seemed to be made out of an expensive silk.

You slowly stood up, walking around the room slightly. You thought you were dreaming. When you looked out the window, there was nothing but trees. You appeared to be in some clearing in the woods. You checked out the room, noticing how the books on the shelf looked an awful lot like the books you owned, except the books in this room seemed to be new and neat.

It confused you, and when you turned around, you noticed the bedding was the same bedding as you'd always had, just for a queen sized bed.

There were three doors in the room, and you ran to the closest one. When you opened it you found a closet, probably as big as your room back home. When you opened the next, you found a bathroom. It looked almost impossibly clean and the shower looked like it came straight from a millionaire's home.

When you opened the third door, you finally stood in a hallway. When you looked right, you saw another door, which was probably where the hallway ended, so you decided to go left. You walked fast, wanting to get out of the house as fast as possible.

You were very confused by the whole situation. You remembered someone kidnapping you, but these were not the circumstances you expected to wake up in.

When you stormed down the stairs, you could see a kitchen on your right. You spotted a door right in front of you. It looked like the front door, so you immediately ran towards it, trying to open it. It didn't budge. You'd need a code, a finger scan and voice recognition. You sighed as you leaned your forehead against it.

After standing there for a solid 5 minutes, you decided to explore the rest of the house.

You reckoned you were alone, as no one had approached you yet, even when you tried to leave the house. You slowly walked into the kitchen, from it spotting a living area with a few couches, and on top of it, you saw a redhead.

You froze when you saw her, unable to move or talk as fear overtook your body.

“Ah, good. I was wondering when you'd wake up. I was thinking of ordering take-out. Just come over here and we can pick something,” the woman spoke as if she'd known you for years.

You didn't move, so the woman turned around, putting her book aside and getting up. She walked towards you slowly, but she didn't seem worried she'd scare you away. “You don't want take-out?” she questioned, putting her phone on the kitchen island. You stood next to it as she now stood in front of it, crossing her arms.

“Where am I?” you shakily asked, worried you'd upset her. You knew the woman, of course. Every person in the world knew her. She was Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow and fearless Avengers, although she retired a few years back.

“What do you mean, silly? You're home of course,” Natasha spoke, looking confused as to why'd you even ask such a question.

You frowned. “This isn't my home?...” Natasha shook her head. “Of course it is.” “Why did you kidnap me?” Natasha shook her head at your question. “I just brought you home, sweetie.”

“What the fuck?! Take me home!” you yelled, and she looked a little surprised before her expression went back to normal.

“I know it's your first day here, but you do not speak to me like that. Do you understand?” she responded, but it only made you madder. “Who the fuck do you think I am? Let me go, you crazy bitch!” you yelled as you tried to push her, but Natasha easily caught your wrists.

“Careful honey. I know you're confused but that is no way to speak to your mother.” “You're not my fucking mother-”

Slap.

Natasha had slapped you across the face. Your head turned from the impact, your cheek almost immediately reddening. tears stung in your eyes as you moved your hand up to cup your cheek, a silent sob wrecking through your body.

“I am a very lenient person, but don't you ever dare speak to me in such a tone again,” she said. “Now go sit on the couch and think about what you want to order for take-out dammit.”

You moved slowly, keeping your head down as you sat on one of the couches, silently crying over the situation. After a few minutes, Natasha returned from the kitchen, holding an ice-pack. She grabbed your chin and tilted your face up without a word, pressing the ice-pack against your red cheek. She softly smiled down at you, using her free hand to pet the hair out of your face.

You sniffled, and she leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead. “Mama didn't want to hurt you like that sweetheart, but you took it too far,” she said, pulling back and smiling down at you again. “Mama loves you. I promise.” She pulled the ice-pack away and softly kissed your cheek.

She put the ice-pack on the coffee table and sat on the couch to your right. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket and seemed to scroll through something.

“So what are you feeling like?” she asked, looking at you with a smile. You sniffled quietly, looking down to avoid her gaze. “We could do burgers, or maybe sushi? I know those are your favorites,” she told you, and you instantly wondered how she'd know such a thing.

“Come on. Tell me what you want,” she urged, nodding slightly to encourage you.

“Fries…” you said quietly, and Natasha smiled. “Exactly what I was feeling. Would you like chicken nuggets on the side?” she asked you, and you nodded. “Perfect,” she said as she typed it into her phone, paying quickly and tossing it aside.

“The food will be here soon. Would you like to watch a movie while we wait, or would you rather explore the house a bit more?” she asked, patiently waiting for your answer.

You shrugged, not wanting to pick an option that might make her mad. “We can also just sit here for a while. I know you must be confused, but I promise you everything will fall right into place.”

You were mad. Mad at how Natasha acted like everything was fine. Mad at how she acted like she had any authority over you. Mad at how she'd slapped you. Mad at how she was acting like she was your mother. Mad at how she seemed unbothered and acted like your behavior was insane. But mostly, you were mad at yourself. Mad how you looked up to her. Looked up to the amazing Black Widow. She had always been your favorite Avengers. How could she not be?

After sitting on the couch for a few minutes, you looked up slowly, seeing Natasha staring at you with a smile on her face.

“Would you like to watch something now?” She asked, holding up the remote. When the hell did she grab that? You nodded slightly, and Natasha smiled widely at you for it. She pressed a few buttons on the remote, and soon the tv lit up with your favorite show ready to play. Natasha pressed play, and the show started exactly where you stopped last night.

You sat quietly as you watched the show, scared to make any noises.

After about an hour, there was a knock on the door, and Natasha got up to open it. “Just wait here,” she said as she walked away. You got up from the couch and peeked around the wall, seeing the door and catching a glimpse of a blonde woman.

She didn't look like a delivery person, and you realized Natasha must've called someone she knew to make sure no one knew the location of the house.

The woman handed Natasha the take-out bag and they spoke for a moment, before she moved to give Natasha a hug. They hugged for a second and Natasha kissed the woman's cheek. You watched as they said their goodbye's, hearing Natasha say she'll visit the blonde woman soon.

You quickly made your way back to the couches, sitting back down and waiting for Natasha to come back.

Once she did, she set the take-out on the kitchen counter. You watched silently as she moved around the kitchen, grabbing two plates and opening the bag. “Just so you know, I see and hear everything. Don't sneak up on me again. You're old enough to ask when you want something,” Natasha spoke, not looking up from her task of plating the food.

Your breath caught in your throat. You should've known. She used to be an assassin for goodness sake. Of course she could tell if you'd watch her.

Natasha grabbed the two plates and brought them back to the couches. She handed one to you, but when you went to grab it she didn't let it go. You looked at her, and she raised an eyebrow to you. “Thank you…” you said silently, and she smiled as she let you take the plate, moving to sit down herself.

You ate in silence, not missing the glances Natasha shot your way. You found it creepy. You had no idea why you were here and what Natasha wanted with you. She had referred to herself as your mother a few times now, and it confused you beyond words.

For now, you decided to let the confusion go, focusing on eating your food and surviving the night.

Who knows what tomorrow would bring…

chapter 2

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lila-lou · 5 months

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 4/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Language, sorta prostitution, kinda dirty, violence

Word Count: 1834

A/N: This is part 4 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

After another agonizing silence, you turned on the radio. But even Bob Seger couldn't lift the mood with his night moves. You groaned in despair and let your head fall against the window. Soldier Boy watched you out of the corner of his eye for a while before he patted your thigh and got over himself. “C´mon (y/n)! Don't be a grumpy little bitch", he tried his best to sound relaxed and cool but you just turned to him with your eyebrows raised. "Are you kidding? You broke my damn wrist!”. Your voice was filled with amazement and anger.

“Uh-uh! A bit more than sprained. Not quiet broken. There’s a difference”, he raised his index finger for emphasis, moving his gaze back and forth between you and the street.

“Ben!-”. “I fucking apologized, didn’t I?! It was… not intentional and certainly not planned… Who would have thought that you-". This time you interrupted him. “That I what? That I don't suddenly take off my panties for you? Ben! I thought we were friends?”. Your voice cracked slightly towards the end.

“I don’t have any friends,” was all he replied.

“Well, thanks for the clarification!”, you bit back. “How the fuck am I now the bad guy again?! I apologized! I'm trying to do the fucking right thing here and you're making it fucking hard for me not to kick you out the damn Car!". Ben was really trying to understand you, but he was new to this. It was new to him, not being adored and worshipped.

“Are you really listening to yourself, Ben? I'm probably the only person on this damn planet who cares about you. And you…why did you have to ruin that?”. This time even he could hear the disappointment in your voice. Still, he didn't know how to make amends for what he had done. “(y/n) I-”. Ben rubbed his beard and looked at you discouraged. “Why did you think I would… let you sleep with me?", you looked at him and felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "Shit, you can barely say it without blushing". Despite the depressed mood, Ben couldn't help but chuckle a little about that fact.

Another silence followed.

“You’re fucking hot (y/n), okay? And I'm horny. Since Russia it feels like I`m horny 24/7. And you doll can’t deny that it would be handy for you to let off some steam too”.

Ben’s eyes found yours. He wasn't lying, but you knew he was hiding something from you.

No matter how long your dry spell had lasted and no matter what Ben would say or do, you could never confess to him that you had been attracted to him from day one. Those words would never pass your lips. Towards no one. Ben was pretty “nice” to you, well at least by his standards. And even though you got along pretty well, it could never be anything more than friendship. Soldier Boy just wasn't a good person. He was incapable of showing emotion, let alone loving anyone but himself. So why should you get involved with him? And even though you had dreamed countless times about him giving you pleasure, fucking you stupid and giving you orgasms like no one else could, you had your principles. No sex without feelings.

“Flattering, but no”, you said, trying to be gentle.

"Why not? A shitload of women would fucking pay for that, do you realize that?”, he replied, stunned. “Okay, listen", you turned to him in the passenger seat and fixed him with your gaze. “Why do you want to sleep with me so badly? Why me? If there are so many women who would do anything to have you fuck ´em unconscious, why clinging to me? Tell me what makes me different? and… well, if I like the reason, maybe I'll think about it". You obviously upset Ben with your words. You could see all the wheels in his brain turning and even after a few minutes he didn't have an answer to your question.

"I thought so. We’re here”, you sighed, getting out of the car. “Give me 5 minutes head start”, you added before slamming the car door and walking with fast steps across the large parking lot. “Day drinking and prostitution, here I come,” you grumble to yourself.

What Butcher had told you, went absolutely against your morals, but you had felt beyond useless for the last few weeks, which was why you finally wanted to prove to yourself that you were useful for more than just tracking down Supes. Although you couldn't imagine anyone more disgusting to set an example than the Deep.

When you entered the bar, the first thing that hit you, was the smell of marijuana and cheap perfume. Even though it appeared to be an upscale local, the owners didn't seem to have much to offer their employees. You looked around and saw half naked girls dancing on poles, fat old men on the sofas in front of them with drool running down the corners of their mouths and in the middle of it all, the Deep. “You got this”, you motivated yourself before taking off your coat, placing it over a bar stool and smoothing down your too-tight and short dress. With a smooth movement of your hand, you threw back your laboriously curled hair and walked past your target's lounge with confident and elegant steps. “Three, two, one-”, you whispered as you felt a hand on your forearm.

“Hey beautiful, where are you going with those beautiful legs of yours?". Oh, how you wished you could have rolled your eyes. Instead, you spun on your heels to find the Deep leaning back into the sofa, letting go of your arm. “Don’t you want to join me?”, he grinned at you. Unfortunately, putting on a show and playing ´hard to get´ didn’t work for him because his brain cells weren’t up to it. “Oh shit, you’re the Deep, aren’t you?”, you feign surprise, holding a hand over your bright red lips. “That’s exactly what it looks like, baby. Come here, come to me”, he didn't pat the sofa, but rather his lap.

After a few minutes of small talk you could finally see Ben from a distance, but he first looked at all the dancing ladies. You tried several times to get his attention but to no avail. He was only a few steps into the bar and two girls were already grinding on him. And Ben being Ben, he wasted no time and starting with cupping their asses. One of the two pushed him onto a bar stool while the other started giving him a lap dance, wearing nothing but a lace thong.

“So baby, don’t you want to show me a little bit of yourself?”. Kevin’s right hand stroked your thigh under your dress while you lay in his left arm. He pushed you further into the sofa, his hand squeezing your ass and making you gasp. In order not to completely give up control, you pushed against his chest with all your strength and quickly slipped onto his lap. With your legs on either side of his thighs, your dress rode up. Anyone walking behind you would have been able to see your bare butt if Kevin hadn't immediately covered it up with both hands. "Hmm… You want to be in charge, don't you?". You could already feel his erection against your thigh, which only disgusted you more. “How about we dance first?”, you grinned at him, hoping to buy some time. “No, no, no, but you can sure dance for me, baby”, the Deep replied with a big ass smirk. You took Kevin's glass and drank it in one gulp before slipping off his lap and taking a few steps back. Your heart began to beat like crazy, but you gathered all your courage, ignored the lustful looks from the other guests and Kevin and started moving your hips slowly to the beat of the music.

That was also the moment when Ben finally noticed you. He sipped his whiskey, licked his lips, and watched you from his spot at the bar. He ignored the two women who were still dancing for him. His attention was solely on you. "Uhh, someone's getting really hard", the blonde moaned in his ear while her colleague stroked up and down Ben's upper arm. While your eyes were on Kevin, Ben was looking at his crotch. “Shit”, he growled, pushing both women away with a jerk.

Meanwhile, Kevin didn't hesitate anymore, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap with a strong tug before grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours, which was absolutely not the plan. You should only distract the Deep long enough for Ben to put something in his drink at the bar.

When Ben saw the Deep stick his tongue down your throat, anger overwhelmed him. Within seconds, he ripped you away, pushed you onto the sofa and grabbed the Deep by the collar of his supe suit. Kevin didn't know what was going on and could hardly say a word. “Ben! What are you doing?", you shouted at him as all the other customers stormed out of the bar one by one. “This son of a bitch is fucking disgusting. A worthless piece of shit. I should rip his head off here and now”, Ben hissed.

“Ben, stick to the damn plan”, you admonished him, slowly lifting yourself up. Ben's eyes darkened with anger.

“You better listen to your little friend”, Kevin gasped, trying to save his own dear life.

"You'd better keep your damn mouth shut, fuckface". Ben let go for a split second before sticking his large hand through Kevin's supe suit into his gills, lifting him up and shushing him.

“Ben! we can't kill him! Ben… Please.” While the Deep was panting in pain, Ben finally looked at you.

"You're going to let that fucker rub his cock on you, but make a fucking scene when I kiss you?!".

In the middle of his sentence, Ben's mood changed from angry to stunned to angry again.

Very angry.

Ben's suit-covered chest began to glow and his hand relaxed, which Deep used to escape. “Shit, shit, shit!”, you gasped. “Ben, stop!”, you tried to calm him down, but to no avail. Knowing that you had absolutely no chance of getting out of here alive if you stayed, you ran towards the exit as fast as you could. You ran for your life. Seconds later you heard a loud bang and everything around you went dark.

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A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 5

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #the boys #billy butcher #the deep #the boys fanart #the boys amazon #the boys tv #spn #ackles

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whimsyfinny · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: Nudity

Chapter Word Count: 2552

—-MDNI—-

A/N: sorry this one took a while! I’ve had so much going on, I’ve struggled to get time to myself. I wrote this over the course of several nights so pls let me know of any errors as it’s only proof read by me

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Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 7

Dean and I stood side by side in the dimly lit parking lot, trying not to make eye contact with each other as Sam stood in front of us; arms folded across his chest with his foot tapping impatiently. He gnawed on his bottom lip, frowning and shaking his head. He was the spitting image of an angry mother.

“You did what?” He asked, disbelief in his voice.

“Look, Sammy,” Dean started and I was unable to tell if he was about to be boastful or apologetic.

“Don’t you ‘look Sammy’ me. We’re on a job Dean, couldn’t you have kept it in your pants a bit longer?”

“Sam I’m so sorry, we didn’t mean for it to happen, it just sort of…did,” I stepped in, embarrassment taking over as I caught sight of my reflection in the Impalas drivers side window. My hair was tousled and my lipstick was almost completely worn off save for a few streaks under my bottom lip. That, and also the fact that my shredded underwear was currently scrunched up in Deans pocket. I couldn’t tell if I was more horrified when I saw him pick them up off the study floor and ‘save them for later’, or the fact that I may have developed a new kink for having my panties sliced off my body with a hunting knife.

“(Y/n),” Sam’s eyes softened, “you have nothing to apologise for; Dean should know better.” His words made Dean scoff.

“She’s not all sunshine and rainbows Sam, she’s the one who started it.”

“I did not! I only told you to kiss me, not fuck me into that desk!”

Sam’s eyes widened and his ears went pink, Dean snapping back at me before the younger brother had a chance to think.

“Yes you did.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Did.”

“Didn’t.”

“Yes, you definitely did. Don’t lie,” he paused, his tone changing, “you can’t deny it sweetheart - you wanted me,” Dean smirked, gesturing to himself.

“Ok, prove it - what did I say?” I crossed my arms across my chest, remembering I wasn’t wearing a bra. His smirk grew, suddenly making me very aware that I was most likely wrong about this and he was going to be obnoxious about the fact that he was right.

“You said - and I quote - ‘are you gonna fuck me or what, Winchester?’ Now to me, that sounds like you instigating this.”

I scowled at him, wanting to slap that lipstick-smeared smirk right off his face.

“Fuck you,” I spat, rapidly having to cross my legs where I stood as I started to feel more ‘essence of Dean’ trickle down my thigh.

“You already did darlin’.”

“Ok ENOUGH!” Sam got between us, putting up his hands, “let’s just finish the job and go home. But just so you know,” he pointed at us, “you are BOTH in VERY big trouble.”

The ride back to the bunker was a little awkward. I sat in the back, not wanting to move too much for fear of making a mess on the impeccable upholstery and Sam sat in total silence, giving us both the cold shoulder. Dean however drove the whole way home with the biggest grin on his face, occasionally glancing at me in the rear view mirror. Sam had taken the liberty of packing everyone’s luggage into the Impala before we had even left the auction house, so I wasn’t even granted the simple pleasure of washing Deans intoxicating scent from my hair in the motel shower. I just had to sit there for the next three hours breathing him in and replaying every red hot second of our time together in that study.

Dean pulled into the underground garage to the bunker and before he’d even put it in park I’d thrown the door open and jumped out, racing back to my room. I heard Dean shout after me but I had sprinted too far to know what he’d said. I ran through the corridors like a princess in a castle; long dress bunched up in my fists so I didn’t trip, with the rest billowing behind me as I frantically searched for my destination in this labyrinth. Upon reaching my door I flung it open and raced inside, slamming it behind me. I paced into the bathroom, heels clicking on the tiles and flicked on the light before turning the shower on and wincing at the loud clanking still coming from the plumbing in here. As the water began to patter into the shower basin I hurriedly peeled off my shoes and my dress before sticking my toe into the water now pooling in the bottom. The moment it was the perfect temperature I stepped in, sighing as the liquid poured over me and washed away the electric tingle on my skin left behind by the older Winchesters hands. I felt normal again, and much less sticky too as I lathered soap over myself. I couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as I slid down the tiles and sat down, letting the shower soak my hair. I tried my best to steady my mind and be calm, but all that I could think about was Dean. The way he touched me, running his rough hands over my soft skin. The way said my name; moaning it in a deep breathless voice. And oh boy… the way his mouth felt on mine was like something out of this world, the taste of him alone made me dizzy. I wanted to run to wherever he was right now and press my lips to his - to get high off of him again. It’s a crying shame that he’s such a jackass, so naturally I’m reluctant to give him the satisfaction. He’d be smug for days - or weeks - if I even mentioned that this was how I was feeling, let alone if I was actually acting on the impulses.

I must’ve sat in the bottom of the shower for at least twenty minutes, my brain going over the events on a loop, replaying again and again. In the end I gave up trying to silence my thoughts and turned off the water, stepped out of the shower and wrapped a fuzzy white towel around myself. I grabbed a smaller second towel and dried my hair, leaving it damp but not dripping as I walked into the bedroom. I searched for my duffle for a few minutes before it dawned on me: it was still in the car. ALL of my clothes were in there.

“Shit shit shit shit,” I searched through the wardrobe and dresser in the room, hoping to find something, ANYTHING, that I could wear to go and retrieve my bag but there was nothing to be found. I sat on the edge of the bed contemplating my options as I started to shiver, my damp hair making me cold. I considered wearing the dress again, but the stains on it made me think otherwise as I was now clean and fresh from the shower. My eyes darted to the door. There’s only one option: theft. Deans room was right opposite mine and he didn’t spend much time in there so the chances of me running into him were slim. I stood up, determination coursing through me as I marched to my bedroom door, opened it and quietly stepped into the hallway. I looked left and right, sighing in relief at the emptiness. I quietly padded across to Deans door, incredibly aware of how cold the air was out here. I grasped the handle and twisted, the door opening with a small click.

“Yes!” I whispered to myself, grateful it was already unlocked. Ducking in I closed the door behind me and spun around, pressing my back to the cool wood to observe the room. Eyes widening, my blood ran cold and I dropped to the floor. Dean was asleep - or so he seemed to be - above the covers and still fully dressed in his suit, a nudie mag open and covering his face. He had one hand behind his head and the other rested on his stomach, rising and falling with each breath. FUCK. I looked around whilst on all fours, feeling the dust from the floor sticking to my damp skin. So much for the shower. I spotted Deans dresser off to the side of the room; if he was asleep, I should be able to sneak in, grab a T-shirt and sneak out again with no problem. I crawled over to the drawers and started sliding them open painfully slowly to inspect the contents. It wasn’t until I opened the fourth drawer that I struck gold. Silently cheering to myself I snatched the first T-shirt I saw and pushed the draw closed. As I turned around to leave I near enough jumped out of my skin, shrieking a little. Dean was now laying on his side, head propped up with one hand and he watched me in total silence, the corner of his lips turned up.

“You need any help down there?” His voice was low and gravelly.

“No thank you,” I stood up, clutching his T-shirt in one hand and trying not to let my towel fall with the other, the corner now refusing to tuck in. “I got what I came for.”

“And you need one of my T-shirts because…?”

“None of your business,” I taunted, inching my way towards the door. Dean raised an eyebrow.

“It is if you’re being a little thief.”

“I’m only borrowing it.”

“Sure you are sweetheart,” he grinned, turning to lay on his back again, this time propped up on his pillows against the headboard with his hands behind his head. There was silence for a few moments as he chewed on his bottom lip, eyeing me up and down. He made me feel totally exposed. Out of nowhere he jumped up, reaching me where I stood by the door in one swift movement.

“I tell you what - you can keep the T-shirt for life on one condition,” he stepped closer, those piercing green eyes keeping mine entranced. I swallowed.

“What condition…?” My voice suddenly felt very small and quiet as a result of his close proximity.

“Drop the towel and put it on.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

I wasn’t able to stop the heat rising to my cheeks and I couldn’t tell if it was from frustration at his arrogance or the fact that the low rumble of his voice was making my knees weak. The words bouncing off the walls in my mind failed to leave my lips, and in my silence he spoke up again.

“Or unless you’re happy walking all the way to the garage in nothing but a towel, you still have the option to refuse.” I scowled and smacked his chest.

“You knew?! If you knew I’d left my bag behind, why didn’t you bring it?”

“Because,” he put his hand on the wall beside my head and leaned in a little, “where’s the fun in that?” I tried my best to hold his gaze, fighting every urge to look away as my heart started to beat faster and faster. I’ve already fucked the man so what have I got to lose? I placed my hands firmly on Deans chest and pushed with enough force to knock him back, the backs of his knees hitting the edge of the bed, making him collapse onto it. Leaning back on his hands he looked at me expectantly as I took a step towards him and away from the door. I tried my best to keep a stern expression, refusing to let him know that any of this was affecting me - the last thing I wanted was for smug old Dean Winchester to know that everything he does makes my heart hammer in my chest. I threw the T-shirt at him, hard enough that he was taken aback as he clutched the dark fabric in his large hands. A look of disappointment started to cross his face before I reached up and untucked my towel letting it fall to the floor as I stood in front of him, fighting every urge not to cover myself up. At first I was unable to look him in the eye, scared of what that alluring evergreen stare would do to me if I did. Eventually I caved in, biting my lip as I saw how entranced he was; eyes flitting over every curve on my body, studying me like a work of art. I watched him swallow, throat bobbing as he licked his lips, jaw going slack and his pupils dilating. He was silent. I took another step forward so I was in reach of him and his hand immediately shot out to touch my thigh. Right as his fingers grazed my skin I smacked his hand away, pulling him from his trance.

“Please…” was all he managed to say, all cockiness gone from his attitude. I snatched the T-shirt from his loose grip, pulling it on over my head and down over my body, finally covering myself from his burning hot gaze. Dean was finally pulled from his trance when he could no longer see the curves of my figure, his eyes eventually meeting mine again. He looked a little flustered, his hands now crossed in his lap.

“My clothes look good on you,” he said, an unusual tone to his voice - something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He eyed my chest, observing the way the loose black fabric fell over the soft curves of my breasts and did little to hide my perky nipples. His eyes travelled south, surveying the rest of me before stopping and lingering at my thighs right where his top ends, hinting at the shape of my ass cheeks hiding underneath. He probably would have sat there all evening and ogled at me, however I could feel the tiredness start to hang heavy in my body and weigh on my eyelids, getting worse as the minutes passed. I groaned internally, remembering I still needed to go and get my duffle. But there was something about the way that Dean was looking at me that was making it hard to leave. I took a few more steps towards him until I was standing between his knees, swatting his hands away as they skimmed the backs of my thighs, sending goosebumps over my skin. I grabbed his chin unexpectedly, making him flinch. However it was only a matter of seconds until he was like putty in my hands. His muscles relaxed and he looked up at me with hooded eyes, mouth agape as I tilted his chin up to face me. I leaned down, our lips millimetres apart as I felt his hot rapid breath fan over my cheeks. I watched his pupils blow wide at the close proximity, a shiver ghosting over his skin as he stared up at me.

“Goodnight Dean,” I hummed, before letting go and standing up straight, turning to leave the room. I picked up my towel and opened the door, looking over my shoulder one last time to witness the starstruck Winchester sitting in a daze right where I left him.

“Thanks for the T-shirt.”

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Taglist: @creative-writing92 @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lanassmarty @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hell0-ki11y111 @hobby27 @lilcuutiee @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @viridiesa @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @ilikw @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @vsplanet @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @raven-red10 @feyresqueen @lori69 @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog

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Up Next:

Chapter 8 part 1

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #supernatural smut #smut #eventual smut #spn #supernatural

289 notes · View notes

frenchkisstheabyss · 11 months

Text

xx 𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕘𝕚𝕣𝕝 𝕞𝕚𝕩𝕥𝕒𝕡𝕖: 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕓𝕚𝕟 xx

xx Because it's hot girl summer 24/7 I decided to write a bunch of one shots inspired by some favs on my personal playlist. I hope ya'll enjoy reading! xx

Pairing: boyfriend!changbin x chubby!fem! reader

Summary: A night in with your boyfriend where you let him have you however he wants.

Genre: smut

Word Count: 950

Warnings: cock warming, rough sex, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, edging, daddy changbin, pet names (good girl, princess, etc).

“I’m a bad bitch but tonight we do it your way” - Latto “Big Energy”

You’re staring directly at the TV but you can’t tell what’s going on. The volume’s turned up loud enough but you can’t hear a word they’re saying. Changbin has his dick buried so deep in your pussy that every bit of awareness in your body’s dedicated to the pressure building in your lower belly. Tonight’s not your anniversary. It’s not his birthday and it’s not yours either. There’s no special reason why he’s had you on his lap like this for the past hour other than the simple fact that this is how he wants you. For the most part he remains still, only shifting every now and then to hear you make that noise. “Mmph” you whine as he grips your plush hips, grinding you down against him. This is torture. All you want is to bounce up and down a little bit, just to take the edge off, but that’s not allowed.

No, you can’t do anything but sit here looking pretty, warming his cock like the good girl that you are. His hands trace your curves beneath your loose fitting t-shirt. “You like the movie?” he asks, cupping your breasts with the perfect amount of roughness. Changbin’s strength has always been a turn on for you. It’s not just that he has strength though, it’s the way he uses it. The control he has to dig his fingers into your heated flesh, palms teasing your rigid buds, firmly enough to make you feel restrained without hurting you. You arch your back, a false attempt at pulling away, and his hold on you tightens exactly like you knew it would. “I can’t really…uh…focus on that right now, Binnie.” “Really?” he pouts, rolling your nipples between two fingers, “Why not?”

He pinches your buds, sending a jolt through your system. He lets up on you for a second before he does it again, harder this time than the last. “Fuck…ah! I can’t take it anymore. Please, just…” you whine, the lines between pain and pleasure blurring so beautifully that you feel like you’re floating. Changbin opens and closes his legs, a movement that faintly tightens your soft thighs around his cock. You can feel it, every vein, every ridge, of his length, kissing your aching walls. Your heart flutters. Your breaths grow shorter the tighter he squeezes your thighs together. His lips press against your neck, his tongue licking a strip up to the back of your ear. “You gonna be a good girl and ride daddy’s cock?” he asks, reaching down to tease your clit. You clench around him, sending your juices dripping from your slit into his lap.

“Yes…fuck…yes” He slides down further on the couch, grabbing at your hips again to hold you steady, and rocks you back and forth on his dick. He's so slow and calculated, determined not to miss that moment…this one right here…where your patience wears thin and your hunger for him takes over. Your eyelids fall, curved lashes shuttering you from the dimly lit living room. Drowning in the darkest pits of desire, you bounce up and down on his dick, arousal from your tight pussy soaking your thighs. “Y/n…fuck” he mumbles, biting down on his lip, “Your pussy’s so good, baby. So fucking good.” His praises only worsen how needy you are for him.

Any focus on rhythm goes out of the window. This feeling building inside of you, possessing your whole body, has you desperately chasing the release he deprived you of all this time. “Shit, daddy. Love your dick in me so much…so…” Changbin kisses your shoulder, stroking your belly with his thumbs, “Then show me. Use it to make yourself cum. I wanna feel it.” Laying your palms flat on his knees, you lean forward enough to give your boyfriend the perfect view of your ass jiggling while you ride him. Every slam of his swollen tip against the limits of your core has your toes curling, nails cutting into his knees. “Ah…shit…gonna cum…gonna…fuck” you gasp. “Cum, princess. Drench this fucking cock” he hisses, slapping your ass. You raise up once more, slamming down around him, and the floodgates open.

“Yes! Fuck! Mmmm! So fucking…shit!” you cry out, losing control of your limbs. You surrender to the frantic tightening and releasing of your muscles, falling back against his chest. Changbin brings his arms around your waist, holding you close to him as he fucks up into you. You reach back, fingers tangled in his hair, “That’s it, daddy. Fuck my pussy. Just like that. Don’t stop.” He pumps in and out of you, dragging your orgasm out until you feel a second one coming. “Cum with me” he whispers, fucking you like wants to break you. Like he wants to see you fall apart. You’re cumming again and he’s right there with you, spilling down your walls. Between the clenching of your walls, the throbbing of his cock, and the slippery mess you’re making, it takes everything to keep your bodies connected. But you do, hips rising and falling, bodies twisting, refusing to part until you’ve taken everything from each other.

The two of you keep it up, fucking each other until he softens and slips out of you. Curling up on his lap, you rest your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking the cheek of your favorite person on this earth. “You never told me if you liked the movie” he teases, unable to resist picking on you even in a moment like this. You’re too exhausted to respond so you just give an extremely weak thumbs up. Changbin takes your hand and kisses it, “Good.”

#changbin smut #stray kids smut #changbin x reader #changbin x y/n #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #chubby smut #plus size smut #chubby reader #plus size reader

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still-with-koo · 1 year

Text

Home | JJK

summary: you’ve been having a rough time and you really miss your long distance boyfriend but he hasn’t called or messaged you all day. you start to wonder if the spark is gone.

pairing: jungkook x reader

wc: 1,013

genre/warnings/ratings: 15+, established relationship, angst, fluff, sexual innuendo, kissing. the characters in this story are my own and do not reflect on the members of bts or anyone else. i just use their names. this is all made up and just for fun, please don’t take it too seriously!

a/n: wrote this after being inspired a while back. missing the cozy winter vibes & soft snowflakes. hope you enjoy <3

Looking down at your phone again, you let out a low sigh.

He isn’t going to call, is he?

At this moment, when everything is falling apart, when you’re holding onto the world by a thread afraid you’ll be pulled under, you need him more than ever.

A simple call would be enough. You tried not to give him all of the details but he knew you were going through a hard time.

The least he could do is respond to your text.

Something simple.

Anything.

But it’s ok.

It can’t be easy for him either. The distance is hard on both of you.

Not to mention his boss has been giving him a hard time lately.

You look at your phone again.

It’s 7:32pm. He must be getting ready to go home right now.

He’s been really busy these days. His schedule is all over the place. So busy he hasn’t been able to call you the whole day. A quick text last night was all you’ve heard from him in the last 24 hours.

You think back to the first day you met. He was such a shy little bean. And awkward as hell. But that’s one of the things you loved most about him. He looked at you with the sweetest doe eyes that you are certain you fell in love with him at first sight.

Later he told you he felt exactly the same way. He wasn’t a shy person anymore but somehow you still made him feel that way. You gave him butterflies. Your aura was something he had never encountered before in his entire life. You were like a disney princess come to life, so sweet and gentle, so beautiful in the most unassuming way.

He told you he could not understand how someone could make him feel so nervous and so safe all at once.

As time went on, you fell into a rhythm with each other. You were each other’s safe place, each other’s greatest joy and comfort, each other’s home.

But these last few days you wondered if this was all a fairy tale you dreamed up in your head. It didn’t feel the same anymore.

You’ve been away from each other for so long, thousands of miles separating your bodies making you wonder if he’s used to being away from you, not that you could ever get used to that.

You want him next to you, on top of you, more than ever right at this moment. You miss him so much. You miss the way he looked into your eyes and everything felt right. Without him you’re not home anymore and you can’t help feeling absolutely miserable.

You look out the window. It’s starting to snow, little snowflakes drifting, reflecting the light from the street lamps. You can hear the rumble of cars outside, sounds of laughter and happiness drifting in through the air vents.

You’re so homesick for that feeling it almost sounds like someone is knocking on your door, a distant memory resurfacing to bring you some peace.

Wait, someone is knocking on the door.

“Y/N! Open up, it’s freezing out here!”

It can’t be.

You slowly start towards your door then break into a run. As you throw the door open, the most beautiful face turns to face you, his doe eyes creasing at the edges as a big grin crosses his face.

“Ahhhh Kookie bear!!” You jump on him, throwing your arms around his neck, throwing him off balance in the process and almost knocking him down as he grabs your legs and tightly wraps them around his torso with one hand while picking up his bag with the other.

He manoeuvres his way through the door and kicks the door closed, all the while you have him completely wrapped in your arms, tears streaming down your face as your heart soars, almost bursting out of your chest.

You start to kiss him all over, his hair, his forehead, trailing down to his eyes, his nose, and finally landing on his mouth. He drops his bag to grab your waist with his other arm, pulling you even closer as you both lose any sense of the world around you.

At this moment it’s just you and Jungkook, no one else. You can feel the electricity, as if you were kissing each other for the first time all over again. But it was better. You knew each other’s lines and indents, the ridges of your lips forming perfectly over his, drawing closer and closer, pressing into each other with such fervour as if it was your last kiss.

He starts to smile and you can’t helping smiling too as you kiss him back.

Your lips are still locked together as you start to slide down his body with his hands guiding you down, your feet landing softly on the floor in front of him.

You break apart and look into his eyes. You were surprised to see his eyes were filled with tears as well.

“I missed you so much, baby. You sounded so sad on the phone, I just had to come surprise you.”

“But how did you…? I’m just… I can’t believe you’re standing right here, right in front of me,” you smile, your hand coming up to cup his face and he leans his face into it, his eyes closing slowly as he lets out a low hum.

“I missed this, baby. I missed you so fucking much it hurt,” he whispered, as he opened his eyes and looked at you with such longing you wanted to jump on him again. You grab his hand and start leading him to your bedroom.

He stops you and you turn to face him. A smirk crosses his face as he quirks his eyebrow at you.

“I guess you kind of missed me too, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you tease, giving his hand another squeeze, “Let me show you just how much.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #lilo fics #home

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a-court-of-fics-and-errors · 4 days

Text

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 7

Azriel x Reader Fic

WARNING:

I wanted to give you a heads-up that the following portion of this fic contains mentions of rape. While it does not go into graphic detail or describe the actual event, it does acknowledge that it is happening, focusing more on the feelings of the character. There is also a short secondary scene involving an attempted rape, but again, it is not described in detail and the scene ends before the assault can take place.

Please read at your own comfort level. If this content makes you feel uncomfortable, that's completely okay. I see you, I hear you, and I deeply appreciate you taking care of yourself. To ensure you don't miss any plot points, I will provide a brief summary in a follow-up post available at this same time. It will not mention the assault. You can look for it under "Keep Moving Forwards, Part 7, Summary".

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of rape, loss of a child, and general trauma.

Word Count: 1.8K

Author's Note:

This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

Throughout the rest of the day, you continued to watch the soldiers below, noting the times when the camp seemed quiet and when it was bustling with hundreds of males. An uneasy feeling gripped your shoulders as you felt trapped, reminiscent of being confined in your cabin in the mountains. You were unsure of Azriel's true intentions, despite his kindness, and you didn't want to wait around to find out. You decided you would leave tonight.

You took one of the pillows out of its linen lining, stuffing the naked pillow under the bed before placing your stored food and small collection of knives into the pillowcase and pushing that under the bed as well. You took the ribbon that Anthea had used to tie back your hair and looped it over a few times, securing the hunting knife Azriel had given you in the inner lining of your pants where it couldn't be seen. The only thing that gave you pause was your lack of shoes. Azriel had taken your shoes when you were brought here, and while you wanted them back, asking for them would raise suspicions. Your feet would have to endure the cold. You also gathered a few candle sticks and empty bottles from around the room, intending to use them for collecting water.

When Anthea brought your dinner, a simple stew, you made an effort to eat every bite, savoring the warmth and preparing yourself for the uncertainty ahead. As she left, a sense of guilt washed over you—escaping a place where she clearly couldn't, if you could escape at all. The fear of continued confinement overwhelmed your fear of being caught. You half thought of bringing her with you, but her uneasy demeanor and the length of time she had been here made you question her ability to survive outside. If you could, you would someday return for her.

You perched by the window, watching as Azriel left for the evening. He didn't come to see you for the rest of the day, which was fine by you. When he was far enough away, you slid from your perch, grabbed the pillowcase of supplies from under the bed. You eyed the swords and axes, but when you went to pick one up, the heft of it caused your side to scream at you, and you decided it would slow you down too much to travel with it. You slipped out the door, ignoring the groaning protest from your aching side.

You found yourself in a small hallway, your room at the end. You made your way down towards the light radiating from below, the cold hardwood floor squeaking beneath your feet. Two other rooms were on this level, each with identical dark wooden doors. At the end, you descended the narrow stairwell to the lower level of the house. At the base was a modest living room with a large mantle, a red sofa, a dining room table with two chairs, and a meager-looking kitchen. Your heart raced too fast to take in much of your surroundings. Behind the stairs was a door that seemed to lead out the back—a welcome relief from having to walk out the front door. You pressed the door open and were immediately met with the smell of wet earth and excrement. Your lips curled in disgust as you pressed your sleeved arm to your nose and walked out, the mud squelching beneath your feet and oozing between your toes. You clambered up the hill, the fires being lit for the evening illuminating your path. Once you hit the treeline, you felt a renewed sense of peace as you continued forward, bumbling in the dark.

Patrols would be in these woods, you were sure of that, and the best you could do was remain as silent as possible. You continued onward, occasionally freezing at the sound of a shifting branch but otherwise mostly alone. The cold mud made your legs shiver, and goosebumps erupted over your body. You silently wished you had brought one of those furs with you.

You must have only been fifteen minutes away from the camp when you heard what sounded like quiet sobs, followed by male grunting. Your heart stopped in your chest as you listened, the sobs sounding inherently female while the male groaned and moaned. As you walked closer, the sobs became clearer, and the male grunting louder. You realized the female was Anthea, from the small squeaks she let out.

You stopped dead in your tracks, recognizing the sounds of the crying. Your mind raced as you considered your options. There was no way this was of her own accord. Knowing what you did about Illyrian males and the way females shrank around them, you knew this wasn’t the first time this had happened to Anthea. Steeling yourself, you moved closer to the sounds, the light of a single lantern shining in the distance. As the sounds grew louder, the bile in your throat rose as you heard the male, between his animalistic grunts and groans, praising his victim. You had been in her place before. You had felt what she was feeling, and the anger that grew in you bloomed into a red-hot fire.

You pulled the knife from your pants lining, gripping the handle hard within your fist, dropping the pillowcase behind you, long forgotten as you started to see red. Swallowing the rock in your throat, you moved towards the light and, without thinking, hurled yourself forward.

Your blade slashed through the wings of the male, and he howled, throwing you off him. His pants were still around his ankles as he turned to face you, breathing ragged. His face. Suddenly it all came back: the three Illyrian men, the tree, the storm. Darian.

Anthea slunk away, pressing herself against a tree, tears streaming down her scarred face.

“You,” the male hissed. “I thought you fucking died.”

You said nothing, holding the now-bloody knife as you struggled to your feet.

Darian pulled his trousers back up, tying them in place while licking his lips hungrily. “You’re going to wish you had died when I’m done with you.”

You pushed yourself upright. Though smaller than the others, he still towered over you, his wings flared out in anger, red blood streaming from the gash you had cut. He drew a long serrated hunting knife from his side, flipping it in his hand with ease, as if to show you the weapon he intended to gut you with. You swallowed any notion of fear and steadied yourself, crouching slightly to stabilize your body. The male smirked at your attempt. “Little kitty wants to play?” he laughed, crouching lower as well.

Without a sound, you launched yourself forward, your shoulder connecting with his upper chest, pushing him back slightly. Seemingly taken aback by your strength, the male stumbled and then laughed. “Strong one,” he hissed. “I like fighters, unlike that one over there.” He gestured to Anthea. “She stopped fighting a long time ago.”

His comment sent a new wave of rage through you. You yelled gutturally, slashing forward in a few long strides, but the male sidestepped immediately. When he was next to you, he wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling you tight against him. His scent turned your stomach as he leaned in close, sending his tongue up the side of your face. “Delicious,” he purred as you desperately reached to loosen his grip.

He lifted you from the ground, his continuous pressure on your neck closing your windpipe. The familiar white lining of blacking out began to creep into your vision. You gasped, your nails digging into his hardened skin as he gripped places on your body that recoiled from his touch. He laughed into your ear, breathing you in.

In a moment of panic, you clawed wildly at his face, successfully scratching a long, bloody line down his cheek and through his eye. The male yelled in pain, loosening his grip enough for you to fall to your knees, choking on the air that filled your lungs. “You bitch!” he screamed, covering his eye as he picked up his knife and stabbed it down towards you. You rolled out of the way quickly, the knife digging into the forest floor.

Ignoring the pain in your side, you stood and looked over at Anthea, who sat frozen against the tree. You stumbled over to her, croaking out, “Come on!” But Anthea merely looked at you, her eyes glazed over the same way they were when Azriel touched her, the same way you knew you looked when your mate had done this to you over and over again. “Anthea, we have to go. Now!” you urged, but she didn’t move.

Darian got to his feet, turning towards you, rage embodied. You glanced back at the trembling, half-clothed Anthea, but before you could say anything, your feet were carrying you deeper into the forest. The male came barreling after you, howling insults and threats. Your throat raw from where he had choked you, hot tears poured down your face as you ran into the midnight black. But the male was faster and more calculating. Before you made it far, he grabbed your shoulder and slammed you to the ground. The air was knocked from your lungs as you cried out.

Darian, bleeding from his cheek, laughed. “Thought you could get away?” he taunted.

He straddled you, his hulking body pressing into your midsection as he fumbled with his pants. Even in the night, you heard the sound of rope untying. You screamed, blood-curdling, begging him to stop. Your hands flew up, only for him to grab your wrists, his hands caked in blood as he tried to work your pants down. You kept screaming, begging for anything, anyone. The male laughed into your face.

Just when you thought it was all going to begin, the beginning of your end, the male screamed and lurched backward. Behind him stood Anthea, holding your knife, lodged in Darian's back. Her eyes were still glazed over. In an instant, he turned around, tackling Anthea, pulling his own knife from his holster and plunging it repeatedly into her neck and chest, howling curses at her.

You lay on the forest floor, unable to stop what was happening as Anthea was almost dead upon impact. You let out a hollow shriek, screaming for him to stop hurting her.

“Y/N!” someone called out, followed by the crashing of woodland underbrush breaking around whoever was running. You were still screaming as Azriel cleared the last fallen log and took in the sight. The male, so enraged, didn’t even turn to see Azriel. Azriel ran to you, wrapping you in his arms, and then a whoosh of cold wind carried you away from the forest.

Author's Note:

Due to the sensitive content in this chapter, I have chosen not to tag anyone. Those who requested tags will be tagged in the summary chapter instead.

I understand that rape and sexual assault are deeply troubling and painful topics in our society. I wrestled with the ethics of writing about these themes and considered whether this addition would move the story forward or if it would be better left out. I am aware that some depictions in novels and fanfictions can be harmful, as they may glorify or misuse these themes. That is not my intention at all.

My writing often reflects my journey toward healing and understanding myself in more complex and holistic ways. While I recognize that such writings don't always need to be shared, my connection to these characters, their pasts, and their traumas compelled me to include this subject matter. I frequently ask myself if scenes involving power and control over another character can be portrayed without depicting non-consent or sexual assault. If possible, I avoid these topics altogether. However, I chose to include this scene because of the ongoing systemic oppression of women in these novels, particularly Illyrian women. I aim to do justice to these characters and highlight the complex systems of oppression both in fiction and in our world.

I am still learning how to share my art with others, and my art includes a part of myself. I hope you understand that my intentions are not to use these themes as mere plot devices or for shock value, but rather to serve a greater purpose.

Please take care of yourself and make choices that honor your well-being. Know that you are loved, cared for, and valuable.

Thank you for allowing me to explore this topic. I'll see you in the next part.

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wannaeatramyeon · 11 months

Text

Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.

Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent

Chapter 6 - Please read chapter 1 first!

“Are we friends?”

Goo jolts at your question and his steps falter. He's walking you back home from work this time.

Another new habit.

There’s too many unsavoury characters like himself out at this time of night. A sweetheart like you would get eaten alive.

"Hmm," he strokes at his chin, his other hand now having found a steady second home around your shoulder.

A friend? What a novel concept. Certainly, you and him tick the boxes of traditional friendship.

Sure.

Though…

To consider you only as a friend, with his own budding feelings simmering below the surface and shoved in a dusty corner at the back of his mind. Well, it does something to his stupid little heart that he doesn’t want to unpick just yet.

He’s not sure he likes the sound of this.

Perhaps it's really for the better. Anything more will just cause complications for him that he definitely does not need.

And he really does hate when things are unnecessarily complicated.

"Why?" Goo asks, tone sweet and smile sly. Avoiding giving you a direct answer, "Want something more?"

"Goo!" You give him a rough shove with your shoulder, your comfort in his company a world away from your first meeting.

He whines immediately at the impact, probably had the whine at the ready before you even touched him. Goo rubs at his chest like you could have hurt him.

Like he isn’t a solid wall of muscle, and you haven’t seen him receive and dish out much worse damage.

“So vicious!” he teases, “You need to pay for my pain and suffering.”

“Goo!”

“Y/N!” he repeats, a mirror of your mocking pitch.

A brief stare-off.

Goo breaks first, he always does.

“Why are you asking?”

You shuffle your feet, buying time, feeling a little self-conscious and a lot cringe. “Weeeell. If we’re friends, shouldn’t we stay in contact?”

“Sure?” Goo’s brow furrows as he elongates the word, not certain where you’re going with this.

“I don’t have your number.”

Ah. That’s what this is? That’s why you started your nervous fiddling? Goo grins.

“You don’t?!” He immediately pulls his phone out, “Well why didn’t you say! Don’t give it to anyone else, ok? I’m very in-demand.”

Huffing at his self importance, "Just pass it over. We can keep in touch during vacation."

"You mean your plans don't involve me?!"

No, your plans don’t even involve being in the city.

School vacation means your working parents shipping you off to a relative. An aunt or uncle or grandparents. And usually you don’t mind.

You always fondly look back on these moments, tinged sepia with nostalgia when you remember running through wheat fields and dusty dirt paths in the countryside. Playing alongside village kids that you see a few times a year.

This time is no different, but there’s someone you’re already missing. Not even a whole 24 hour apart yet.

Listening to your grandpa snoring and watching the fireflies outside your window, you wonder if Goo, that cityslicker, would like it here. If he could appreciate the simple peace or would he go insane with boredom.

As if on cue, your phone pings. Like his ears have been burning knowing you are thinking about him.

“I’m bored,” it reads, accompanied with a selfie with finger guns against his head.

You smile as you tap back a reply.

Goo's phone pings as he narrowly misses a knife swinging at his head.

He pulls it out to read your message even when Gun tells him off for being distracted.

Another ping leads to Goo taking both hands off the steering wheel, Gun having to quickly correct the car’s trajectory to prevent it driving off the side of a cliff.

He aims a punch at his partner and it starts another fight.

Gun’s dinner is interrupted by incessant chimes from Goo’s phone, followed by the tapping of his stupid fingers on the screen.

It’s like nails on a chalkboard. He wants to break each and every one.

Gun takes the remainder of his meal and moves to the other side of the restaurant.

Goo doesn’t notice.

Gun is cut off mid-sentence as a finger is held up to his face. So close his eyes cross as he focuses on it

“...the fuck?”

“Sh sh shhhhh~ ” Goo shushes him, already half bored to tears listening to Gun talk about the merits of Jeet Kune Do. He is luckily saved by his phone ringing, pouncing on it as Gun wonders whether he should snap that finger still waving in his face or not.

The blonde is positively giddy seeing your name flashing across his screen. Oh! Your first call together and he has so missed the sound of your voice.

He swipes to answer, walking off and dismissing his partner.

“Princess! You just saved me from the dullest conversation. I thought I died and gone to hell!”

Maybe Gun should have snapped his finger and his neck.

Goo has become awfully fond of your calls and messages.

Truly, what a wonderful show of initiative from you asking for his number. He didn't realise you could be so forward.

Anytime day or night, you've become his go to for whenever he has something to say.

And he has so many things he wants to say.

This is insidious, Goo thinks, lying awake; tossing and turning as sleep evades him.

You have sunk your claws into his life. Have a terribly firm hold on him that he doesn’t know how to shake off.

It’s in the dead of night, when everything has calmed and he tries to rest, that his traitorous brain whirs.

His fondness for you has grown so naturally, so organically that he barely had time to figure out what was going on before he was already in too deep.

No wonder he clings to you so much. No wonder he makes himself front and centre of your life, insistent on your full attention which you give him with little hesitation.

Goo thinks about his future, and is disappointed to find his mind betrays him. He used to daydream about rolling around on a pile of money. Resting on stacks of cash, because who needs cushioning anyway?

Now he thinks how much fun it would be if you joined him.

You. The absolute opposite of him.

Huh. Maybe opposites do attract.

#this whole fic is so self indulgent #i am so so sorry at the quality in advance #lookism #lookism headcanons #lookism x reader #lookism hc #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #goo kim #goo kim x reader #kim joongoo #kim joongoo x reader #wannaeatramyeon #school days with princess and the delinquent

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arteastica · 5 months

Text

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (20)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 2.1k

If you were ever asked to describe nostalgia to someone who has never experienced it before, you would say it’s like walking down the hallways of a museum at sunset, with nothing but the sound of your footsteps as company, echoing down seemingly infinite walls decorated with sepia memories that belong to happier, distant times.

For you, nostalgia was always the one who spoke most clearly in the silence, and just like the corridors of that metaphorical museum, it just so happened to be ghost-quiet in your office that evening. And in such solitude, when the only heart beating in the room belonged to you, your otherwise welcoming workspace became an echo chamber of unsought feelings and unwanted thoughts.

You looked at his empty chair. So much for a quick ride. You thought. It had been hours since him and Lord Koch had ventured into the field, and even though the Sun had decided to call it a day, you hadn’t. According to the clock ominously ticking on the wall before you, as well as the animated chatter coming from the dinner hall downstairs, your shift had ended a while ago, yet somehow you found yourself still sitting at your desk, fountain pen hovering over boring administrative stuff you had read at least three times that day, working extra hours, all because you didn’t want to go home.

Not without seeing him first.

Making sure he got back safe was part of the reason, albeit a small one. Because, if you were to be honest, in the end the decision to stay working overtime for free, had come down to something way less noble. It was simple: If you were still in your office by the time he came back, there was a chance of something happening, there was a chance of something changing between the two of you. And that possibility was enough remuneration for you.

Your eyes, however, begged to differ and, tired of looking at the same words over and over, decided to wander around the room until they found the big window behind his desk. The sunset sky, with its sad pinks and nostalgic blues, held nothing but the promise of more loneliness. And that melancholic palette you would’ve otherwise found pretty, as well as the empty chair behind his desk, acted as nothing but a reminder of how much you missed him, and you didn’t mean just today.

You missed how things were back then. You missed the warmth of his skin and the gentleness of his touch. You missed getting drunk on the rich sandalwoods of his hair: musky, earthy, a little sweet, and just the right amounts of spicy. You missed the addictive taste of his lips as well as the velvety, honeyed words that would leave them in your most intimate moments. And most of all, you missed the way his cobalt eyes would make your heart soar whenever you looked his way and found he was already staring.

That was the best feeling.

And it had been so long since the last time you had experienced it.

The calendar would argue it had only been a week, but if that was the case, then that week surely had the personality of a month. The clock would call it nonsense, saying that time was measured and constant. You knew that Leon, however, would agree with you.

‘Alike are time and water.’ He had told you just earlier that day, as he read out of a small leather notebook snippets of what was, in his own words, ‘some nonsense’ he had written on his way there. ‘Flowing slowly one drop at a time, or rushing by in the blink of an eye.’ You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand. “And then I look at you and watch it freeze, knowing little has it to do with the mesmerizing view, when I find myself in the midst of that algid winter that is you.’

Maybe it was the bright oranges and mellow pinks of the sky you were staring at, or the connotation of endings that sunsets have, but your vision started to get blurry.

And sitting there, listening to the distant clatter of cutlery, unsure if the thing beating in your chest was a knot or a heart, you felt forgotten. Like the stuffed animal nobody packed before moving out, or the grandmother nobody visits anymore. And you had no one else to blame for that.

If you could, you would have pinned everything on time. On how it makes children turn into adults and forget to write home. On how it turns friends into strangers. On how it makes people grow tired of each other. On how it was starting to make him feel fictional, making you wonder if whatever beautiful thing you had, ever even existed.

If you could, you would have excused yourself behind ignorance, hiding under the blanket of confusion, claiming you didn’t know what happened.

You wished you could. But you couldn’t.

You couldn’t, because you knew exactly what had happened. You had heard the words leave your mouth that morning. Very clearly, even through the loud sounds of your own pleasure. You had said them. Words that he probably didn’t need. Words that had been distasteful enough to push him away.

Guess that saying I love you can sometimes make you unlovable, after all.

He did warn you, after all: Scouts don’t start families.

They avoid love.

They don’t marry.

But, who was even talking about marriage?

Beginning to grow frustrated with yourself, you tried to blink your feelings away. But the more you tried, the more they would pour out, and the more your eyes would start to burn as a result.

And that was a problem because, in that very moment, you heard the unmistakable sound of his footsteps down the hallway.

You rubbed your eyes one last time as they approached, trying to erase any traces of your lingering melancholy, and when the door opened, your fingers hurried to fiddle with whatever papers they found in the top drawer of your desk.

You didn’t know if he had even thrown as much as a passing glance your way, but judging by the discreet, distressingly quiet way in which he headed straight to his desk without uttering a single word, you could be forgiven for thinking he hadn’t even noticed your presence at all.

And it hurt. It sure did. His silence was so sharp it stabbed the deepest part of your chest. So loud it broke you like the wailing of singers is said to shatter glass.

But, if you were to put yourself in his shoes, you would understand.

Why would he say anything?

You tried to reason with yourself while your fingers caressed papers and closed drawers.

Why would he say anything to his dumb, incompetent assistant?

If you were him, you wouldn’t utter a single word either, out of fear of being misunderstood. Because, in the presence of someone as foolish as her, any simple, commonplace action could risk becoming fuel for even more stupid, delusional ideas forming in her little head.

However, although it had taken that little head a while, it was finally beginning to understand.

That she was just his clumsy, fuckable assistant who, after opening her legs for him a couple times, had accidentally fallen in love in the process. Nothing more than a stupid, inexperienced city girl who didn’t know anything about life in the Survey Corps.

But that same city girl was starting to learn. Yes, she was was.

You rose up from your chair.

It may take her a while, but she always learned.

You walked towards the fireplace.

And once she learned, she made sure she never forgot. Never forgot that she was hired to make his job easier, not harder. To handle his mail, not to warm the left side of his bed. To administer schedules, not to moan his name. To revise budgets, not to beg for orgasms. To bring him tea, not more problems.

And like so, with all that in mind, you retrieved the kettle from the fire.

It wasn’t hard to believe that the Commander of the Survey Corps had other things in his mind. More important, better things than his foolish, lovestruck assistant.

You carefully poured boiling water into a porcelain cup.

But to this foolish, lovestruck assistant, the problem was accepting all the aforementioned.

You sliced a lemon and watched it sink into the water.

It was hard to accept that he didn’t feel the same way you did. It was hard to accept that his lips didn’t instantly curve at the sight of you, the same way yours did at the mere thought of the cobalt in his eyes, and that little frown he did when he was tired. And you didn’t need to look at him to know he had it on his face right now.

You didn’t demand to be the first thought he had when he opened his eyes, nor the last one when he closed them at night. But you just wanted to be a thought.

Just a thought. Maybe the one he had when the first snow fell, or when new buds sprung upon old trees. When the first rain of the summer fell on him while out on the field, or when a gentle breeze mischievously shifted his hair out of place in the fall. Or when it lovingly caressed his cheeks in passing, just like you would right now.

If you could.

You knew you shouldn’t, but you threw a glance his way. He was sitting at his desk, head down, hand busy on what you guessed was the report about the new horses. And it was so very funny. If you had it in you, you would have even snorted. How something that could bring so much joy could also bring so much pain. And even more puzzling it was, how a heart could feel both at the same time.

He was so beautiful. Sunshine strands falling on his face, hiding the depths of his thoughts. The genius of those strategies that were always several moves ahead of what anyone was capable of.

So attractive. The frown in those jungle eyebrows telling you it had been a tough day for him too.

You forced your eyes to look away.

Of course anyone would fall for him.

You thought as you added a spoonful of honey and watched it melt into the boiling water.

Maybe you could forgive yourself for having done just that.

You picked up the tray with whatever steadiness your trembling hands were capable of, and, in the company of a desperate, uncomfortable hammering in your chest, cautiously made your way towards him, the hesitance present in your footsteps making you feel as if you were in some sort of cage, approaching a wild animal.

It shouldn’t be like this. You had been bringing him tea for months. Every night. Without fail. So, why did it feel as if it was a complete stranger you were about to serve? As if you didn’t know how many cubes of sugar he took or how many spoons of honey he enjoyed.

“Be careful, in case it’s too hot.” You warned him, carefully placing the tray on the empty corner he always left for his tea. “I didn’t know when you’d be coming back, so I wasn’t able to let it cool down first.” You avoided looking at him, although it wouldn’t even matter if you did, because from the corner of your eye you could tell he was doing just the same. Head down, eyes on his papers, just like yours were on the tray, as you took your sweet time adding sugar cubes to his cup.

He likes it sweet. His tea. Very sweet. You reminded yourself, stirring as slowly as you could, praying the sugar cubes would also take their sweet time melting. Because, some hopeful, silly part of you still believed he would say something. You needed to confirm he could still see you. You needed to make sure you hadn’t become a ghost from his past. Not yet.

And for that purpose, even the coldest ‘Thank you. You may go’ would do it for you.

If you couldn’t have his hand to hold or his arm around your shoulders, the smallest word of acknowledgment would be enough.

But when none of those came, you realized you had no choice but to leave. Quietly. Collectedly.

Despite the painful knot stuck in your throat.

Leave. To your room. Where you could take care of it. Where your eyes could bleed an ocean, eroding the boulder-like thing you had for a heart. Chilling what was once warm inside.

“If you don’t need anything else, Commander, may I be exc-”

“Are you going to him?” The sound of his voice made your heart explode inside your chest, and its abruptness left you wondering if he was even talking to you.

You wanted to believe he was, but he kept his head down, pen in hand, unmoving; making it hard for you, in your desperate state of mind, to tell.

“Commander?”

“Are you going to meet him now?” He asked again, and this time his eyes found yours, dissipating any doubts you may have had.

And you would have allowed yourself to indulge in some form of cheer, happy he was starting any sort of conversation with you.

You really would have.

If only his eyes weren’t the color of a midwinter night, starless, pitch black, so dark it was impossible to see what was hiding in them.

But something was for certain: whatever it was, it wasn’t there this morning when he left.

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @mchlist @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe @erwinawesomeness @apts2000 @lucifers-nipple-piercing

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64yrsold · 10 months

Text

ACHES 6. roses

18+ (please see masterlist for cw) aches masterlist previous (5)

“Hello?” I answered the phone, staring out my living room window.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he sounded busy, breathing quickly.

“Hi,” I chirped, “What’s up?”

“Are you at home?” he asked, a car honking in the background.

“Yes,” I crossed my legs, watching a man in a bright red coat shuffle down the sidewalk. “But my other boyfriends are here.”

“Room for one more?” he chuckled.

“I’ve never had a… What’s it called when you have sex with five people at once?”

“I’m outside your apartment.” And there he was, walking up to my door with a bouquet of flowers clutched in his gloved hand.

“Guess I can look it up later,” I stood up. “I’ll be right down.”

I skipped down the stairs with a stupid grin, opening the door to let him into the stairwell entrance. He smelled like snow and roses. He handed me the bouquet, crisp white roses with heavy green leaves.

“For you, pretty.”

“I love roses.” I blushed, and he kissed my pink cheek.

“Can I come up?” he shivered, mouth cold against my face.

“I turned up the heating for you,” I pulled him up the stairs, his boots echoing in the stairwell.

“I didn’t say I was coming over,” he frowned, stepping inside the apartment and escaping from his coat.

“But I told you I was free today,” I put the roses on the counter, sitting on the couch. “Right?”

“You can’t act like you know everything about me,” he joined me on the couch, pulling me to sit with my back against his chest. “It’s only been a week.”

“Maybe you’re just a simple man.”

He kissed the top of my head, “Sure.”

“You want to do anything today?” I asked, turning his hand over. I liked studying the lines in his palm, the callouses on the tips of his fingers, the dip in his pinky from his phone. He liked it when I pressed my thumbs into the meat of his palm, massaging and stretching out the tense muscle.

“Want to remember our first night together?”

I swallowed, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Don’t worry,” he laughed, “I know you don’t remember.”

“Fuck,” I sighed, “I’m really sorry.”

“Honestly,” he spoke softly into the tip of my ear, “I don’t remember everything either.”

My neck was cold where his breath ghosted over me.

“It’ll be a good one-week-anniversary activity,” he sighed as my thumb pressed harder into his hand, “What do you say?”

“I would really love that.”

“Come kiss me before we go,” he opened his arms, letting me spin around to sit on his lap, my nose pressed to his. I smiled into the thick air between us, and at the sudden negative space as we both inhaled. He closed the distance, grinning into my mouth. He was gentle and calculated, and I took quick sips of air, failing to match his easy breaths. I kissed him to savor him, and he let out quiet sighs whenever I pulled back to take a breath. I tugged at his collar, and he kissed my cheek.

“Let’s go,” he whispered.

I was buzzing and hot, but nodded. I could taste his smoke in my mouth as we walked to the bar.

-> next (7)

#matty healy #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty the 1975 #matty x reader #matty healy x reader #64matty #aches

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miryum · 1 year

Text

Foundling Villa- Chapter 7

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner

Warnings: argument, I guess? I’m not sure there’s any warnings this chapter. Sorry it’s a little short

ao3 link next chapter>>

Charles woke to creaking. Still blurry-eyed, he peeked above the couch. You were shuffling around, wedding gown clutched to your body, pulling open the door to your adjoined room.

“What’re you doing?” he croaked out, his morning voice making you freeze.

“I am,” you straightened up, hand still on the doorknob. “Leaving. Goodbye.” You felt the mocking need to drop into a curtsy, but you held yourself upright.

“Are you going to the Villa?” Charles sat up, groaning when his back twinged in discomfort. He had never slept on a couch before. He wanted to laugh, wondering if it was where he would spend most of his nights from now on.

“Yes, I am.” Before he could say another word, you swept into your room and closed the door, slumping against it.

You glanced up and froze. Elena and Sara stared back at you. Elena stifled a laugh. “I take it that the wedding night went well?” she asked.

You grumbled at her, though you both knew it had no heat against it. “Please tell me that we’re packed?”

“Yes, my Lady,” Sara smiled kindly. She gently took you by the hand and led you to the bathroom where a much-needed bath awaited. A simple travelling dress was laid out.

You made great time, hurrying out of the palace and down the steps to a carriage that was already loaded and ready to go. You felt like a runaway bride, trying to escape a marriage and a life that, in the grand scheme of things, wasn’t the worst in the world.

Enza was much more wealthy that Williams and you knew, that as royalty, you had privilege far beyond the common man. But didn’t the common man have freedom far beyond you? Prince Charles Leclerc was not the most terrible thing that could happen to you. He was devilishly handsome (that much you had to admit), had a sweet family, and was trying to establish a kind, working relationship with you.

So why were you constantly running away?

Maybe it was because of the lack of choice. The prospect that Prince Charles could have been a terrible person weighed on you ominously.

“Princess Y/n!” You were beginning to clamour into the carriage when a shout stopped you in your tracks.

Reluctantly, you turned around to see a half-dressed Prince Charles running down the steps. For a brief moment you wondered what the guards thought. Prince Charles only wore a wrinkled tunic with the laces undone and his wedding pants which were haphazardly thrown on.

“Oh my goodness sake,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. “Have a little decency, won’t you?” Once he reached you, you took the laces of his shirt and pulled them tight, knotting them into a bow.

“I-I could’ve done that,” Charles muttered.

“But you didn’t,” you pointed out. “Why are you here?”

Prince Charles looked hurt. If eyes were the window to the soul, then his soul was in a dismal state. “I am asking you why. I am asking you why you keep running away from me. I consummated the marriage as you asked. We are together joined as husband and wife for eternity.”

“But I don’t want that!” Your frustration bubbled up. “I didn’t choose to marry you, Prince Leclerc, but I am now bound to you in body and mind. I am forced to be by your side no matter your whim or folly! While I am sure you are a very pleasant man, I wasn’t able to find out for myself, nor do I now intend to. In order to preserve some sense of freedom I am leaving and giving you a very wide berth. I don’t want to be married to you, I don’t want to love you, and I most certainly do not want to be your friend.” You pivoted abruptly and sat down in the carriage. “If you find the need to communicate, you may write a letter which will be handled through my maids. I bid you adieu.”

Elena and Sara scurried in the carriage and the moment the door slammed shut, the horses took off like a gunshot.

Charles gazed after the retreating carriage that held his wife. At least he now knew that you didn’t have a problem with him- you had a problem with the rules. It was comforting to know that maybe, in another universe, you might’ve given him a chance. Maybe if you weren’t forced together, you would’ve been kind to Charles. You didn’t hate him; you hated the system.

For that moment, Charles wished for nothing more to renounce his throne. Perhaps if both him and Princess Y/n were commoners they would be able to find each other and love without the courts interfering.

Charles reeled back. What was he thinking? He didn’t want to be married to you any more than you did to him! Why was he wishing for a chance to earn your love? Why did he even care? Scoffing, he marched back inside, giving the guards a fierce glare, daring them to gossip about what they had seen.

He would not fall into a loveless trap.

The Foundling Villa was everything you dreamed it would be. When you entered, the first thing that greeted you were two wooden staircases on the left and right, leading up to the second floor. The sitting room was connected to the kitchen and a small parlour. There was a door in the kitchen that entered the servants quarters. Large glass double doors led into the expansive backyard, which you were most excited to explore. Upstairs, three bedrooms were connected together while the two others sat separately.

You instructed Elena and Sara to unpack in the master bedroom and went to meet the staff.

Chef Yuki was a very eager man, shaking your hand enthusiastically. A man who was dressed in stable master’s garb, whom you assumed was Lando, sauntered into the room as you were finishing introductions, and began to talk adamantly about the horses he picked out for you. Clearly, he had a passionate love for them. He was younger than you expected (you had trusted Elena and Sara to choose the staff) but from his words you knew that he was experienced. The other members of the staff were very kind, and obviously pleased to have someone to serve.

It was rejuvenating to see people who wouldn’t judge you or rat you out at the prospect of climbing the hierarchical ladder. You wondered if your siblings would be as happy as you were when they came to visit.

The Foundling Villa seemed like paradise, no matter how lonely you were.

#Foundling Villa #charles leclerc x reader #chalres leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #lord perceval #yuki tsunoda #lando norris #monarchy #prince!charles leclerc x reader #prince!charles leclerc

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jaime-brienne-fic-exchange · 6 months

Text

Your enthusiasm continues to surprise and delight us!

For the fourth year, y'all wanted to close out the year with some lovely gifts to fellow fans. It’s a low-key, inclusive exchange meant to celebrate our favourite knights! All fanworks are welcomed (and encouraged!)–art, fic, fanvids, any creative endevour!

Already convinced? Sign up here!

Need more information? Read on!

Important Dates

Signups: November 23rd - November 30th Assignments out: December 1st Posting Window: December 21st - January 1st Stocking Stuffer Prompts Released: December 21st

Rules

This is a low stress exchange, and the rules are simple:

1. You create one (1) fanwork, and receive one (1) fanwork. 2. If you can't complete your gift on time, please let us know as soon as you do! Life happens, but the sooner we know the easier it is to deal with. 3. For recipients: no specific, detailed scenario prompts, only a list of general likes/tropes/vibes and your squicks and triggers. For gifters, we encourage you to sleuth out any questions for your prompter yourself (anonymous tumblr asks are a great option!). If you cannot, reach out to us and we'll do our best to get back to you. 4. Have fun! This is a short period exchange, meant to round out the year with a little extra joy. You don't need to paint the Mona Lisa or write the next Westerosi novel, we promise.

FAQ

1. Who can participate? Anyone! Artists, writers, vidders, poets, interpretive dancers are all welcome! 2. What do I need to do? When you sign up, you’ll provide three general ideas of what you like--tropes, vibes, nothing too specific!--for your creator to work from. Once sign ups close, you’ll be assigned someone and you’ll need to create a fanwork for them based off the information they provided. It could be a short fic, a piece of art, a poem, a vid, an interpretive dance, whatever you like! There is no minimum requirements, but as a rough guideline, think of it as something that would brighten your day if you received it. 3. When do sign-ups open? Signups run from November 23rd to November 30th. It's a short signup period, so make sure you don't miss it! 4. What if I can't finish something in time? Please send us an email at [email protected] to let me know and we'll do what we can to either let your recipient know you'll be a little late, or organise someone else to backfill. 5. Does my fanwork have to be festive themed? Definitely not. You'll just be publishing it, or posting it, or uploading it in between December 21st and January 1st. 6. Will my prompts be private? No, they will be released to everyone on the 21st to allow for the Stocking Stuffers. This will be open for anyone to contribute to, not just the people who participate in the main exchange. 7. When is the posting window again? Between December 21 and January 1.

Important Notes:

You must have an AO3 account to participate. If you do not have an AO3 account, you can either request one via the AO3 website or email us at [email protected]

If you have any questions, please email us at [email protected]. This will be a tight turnaround for signups–about a week–so get in quick if you’re interested!

Signups close end of day November 30th!

#jaime x brienne #braime #brienne of tarth #jaime lannister #game of thrones #asoiaf #jaime x brienne festive fest

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goblinpuppy35 · 15 days

Text

Paw Prints in Fresh Soil

(Previous Chapter) - Part 7 - (Next Chapter)

Professor Remus x Male Reader

Summary: While teaching at Hogwarts Professor Lupin tries his best to conceal his strong crush for the green fingered grounds keeper Y/N but soon a strong friendship blooms into something more.

CW: Long chapter with smut at the end ;)

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It was not until the start of next week that Remus was able to properly return to his teaching once his body fully recovered. During his recovery he lay in bed staring out of the window watching the storm clouds pass by and picturing Y/Ns face close to his, side lit by the fires warm glow. Remus endlessly replayed the feeling of Y/N's hands against his cheeks and then the perfect sensation of feeling Y/N's lips on his, the memory alone made his chest rise and his groin twitch. Alas he was far too weak to do anything about it so he continued to rest, at night his mind was consumed by imaging Y/N sleeping by his side, his Y/H/C hair flopping over his face. This man has fully consumed his heart. Remus let out a loud sigh in the dark of his bedroom. He needed to see Y/N again soon.

Once Remus has emerged out of his chambers he was taken aback by the festive decorations plastered across every hallway. From conversations he overheard from students and teachers alike the Yull Ball had taken centre stage across the school. Remus thought back to his own experience of the ball when he had been a student, the night mainly consisted of him being amused by James and Sirius' failed attempts to score with their dates along with his own desire to leave the crowded hall and return to his book. He had never asked anyone to the ball, nor had anyone ever asked him to his relief.

Remus' students were ecstatic to have their favourite teacher back in class which made any last twinge of pain the Professor felt fade away. The day remained cold and cloudy till evening, while Remus was trying to get his fire going a loud screech from his open window interrupted him. A shabby looking owl with large angry eyes was glaring inside with what appeared to be the tattered remains of the letter in its beak. After a degree of tussling with the bird it finally released the paper and flew away with another abrupt screech. The Professor squinted as he began to decipher the message in-between the claw tares and smudge marks.

'Remus, so pleased to hear your up and about again. I need your help with a workshop I am having to put on for the students first period tomorrow in the outer grounds courtyard. I would explain further but as you can see these owls hate my letters. - Yours Y/N. p.s please bring your gramophone.'

Remus traced his thumb over the word 'Yours' intimately. The memory of Y/N's lips filled his head again. The back of his neck shuddered briefly. When the next morning rose, a subtle gradient of rosy sky shone bellow the continued blanket of grey clouds from the day before. Despite his desire to be punctual Remus' fatigue caused him to sleep in and once he was aware of the time he tumbled out of bed and frantically dressed himself. His wardrobe was very simple and yet he found himself digging out his best tie to wear, he wanted to look nice in front of Y/N.

Scooping up his gramophone on the way, Remus ascended down the many staircases of the castle and weaved his way through the empty corridors until he arrived in the large outer courtyard. A gentle cold breeze danced through the air. The collection of third years were all huddle in a ground paying attention to something in the middle. Near the back of the group Remus caught the eyes of the familiar faces of Harry, Ron and Hermione, he gave them three a brief wave while trying to conceal how out of breathe he was. The students returned their attention to the centre and Remus' own gaze followed them.

"As you all know the Yule Ball is imminent" called out a clear direct voice which seemed to flow along with the morning breeze. Remus' eyes widened and his crooked lip curved upwards as he saw through the bobbing heads of students Y/N standing upright with his hands behind his back. He was pacing lighting around the circle of young faces, for the first time not wearing his overalls and fully showing off an immaculate pair of wine red dress trousers which match a stunning gold and red waistcoat he was wearing. Remus straightened his own tie. "Now I'm sure some of you are excited for the event, however I'm also sure many of you feel the same way as I did at your age with the idea of a ball. That being mainly feelings of panic and nausea". A small flutter of laughs spanned across the courtyard including a chuckle escaping Remus' mouth which drew Y/N's attention immediately. "Ah Professor Lupin. Thank you so much for joining us", there was something about the playful professionalism which Y/N's voice adopted when the two of them were around students and colleagues which excited Remus. As if there was a delicious secret between them, which he supposed there was now. "Professor Lupin has kindly agreed to lend us his gramophone for this morning's lesson, if you could place it just over there Professor" Y/N's arm gestured towards a small table under the large bare oak tree near the congregation.

"Now" Y/N called out clapping his hands, Remus was impressed with his ability to capture the students attention, "Let's start by separating, boys on one side girls on another". All the students remained stationary and after a moment Y/N smirked and relaxed his posture, "No need to panic, merely a joke. Ha could you imagine" Y/N chuckled to himself and then continued. "No today I thought it would be more constructive to learn a different type of festive celebrations. As I'm sure you are all aware I didn't grow up with many wizarding customs so I thought I'd introduce you to some Muggle ones instead." Nodding towards the Professor, Lupin then placed the nearby record into his gramophone and set up the needle. A crackling filled the air momentarily and then was loudly replaced by upbeat folk string music. Many of the students laughed in amazement and looked at one another.

"Today we will be learning some traditional Celtic folk dancing" Y/N called out above the music, "grab the hand of the person next to you. come on come on." Remus watches in awe aside the gramophone as the students willingly took one another's hands forming a circular ring. Then to the beat of the music Y/N took a striding step to the left causing a ripple effect. Everyone start moving to the side to the musical tune and the ring of dancers rotated accordingly. As the dance proceeded Y/N instructed the students to switch positions and in doing so formed several inner circles, each dancing a different rotation to the other. Watching this synchronized performances from the outskirts Remus began to clap in time to the music and cry out encouragingly towards the students.

"Join us Professor!" called out a gleeful student admits the moving bodies. "Oh no no. really I couldn't" Remus stuttered timidly backing up against the large oak tree. "This is a collaborative workshop Professor Lupin, everyone must join in" insisted Y/N in-between his leaping steps in a teasing why which pretended to be stern. Before Remus could form an excuse two eager students grabbed his hands and he was flung into outer ring of dancers. The Professors movements were clumsy and disjointed as be tried to keep up with the others, several times he had to politely apologise for stepping on a students foot. As the music swayed Y/N instructed the rings of dancers to switch positions. Remus suddenly found himself thrown into the inner ring and left an overwhelming sense of confusion until a familiar feeling shoot up his right arm starting from his finger tips. Looking to the side of him he drunk in the sight of Y/N next to him, holding his hand tightly, guiding him in the right direction. Remus was consumed by watching Y/Ns Y/H/C bounce as he danced and his eyes seemed to sing with joy. How much Remus wanted to kiss ever part of the young man's face.

The rest of the dance practice went by perfectly, even Remus near the end was almost enabled to get the hang of the foot patterns. By the end of the class the students left playfully practising their foot movements and thanking Y/N for a much more enjoyable class then they were expecting. Remus hovered by his gramophone bidding students goodbye as he side eyed Y/N waiting for them to be alone. As he eagerly watched he then became aware of Harry and Hermione observing him observing Mr Y/L/N , whispering to one another and grinning towards the Professor. Remus returned them a "I'm aware of what you know regardless please leave" face and the students promptly left the courtyard. Finally Remus and Y/N were alone.

Y/N appeared to be incredibly pleased with the outcome of the class and spinning around to face Remus without warming brought the Professor in for a hug. "Thank you so much for helping Remus, that class went exactly as I was hoping it would. It's almost impossible to get students to willingly engage with any formal dance practice so I was hoping this would be a more stimulating exercise. Plus I'm revealed to finally see you recovered." Remus adored being this close to Y/N, breathing in his sent of fresh soil and wet grass. "You're a skilled teacher Y/N, you absolutely can't deny it now" mused Remus as they separated. While they began to pack away the gramophone and table Y/N began to explain the plan to decorate the courtyard for the ball.

"Since they want the event to be outside this year the plan is to cover the old oak tree with fairy lights and set up a number of lanterns around the courtyard, all easy enough to do" Y/N explained looking around the grounds, Remus could practically see the gears of the groundskeeper turning, planning the layout. "The only current set back right now is the weather though" and Y/N stared bleakly up towards the grey clouds above, "Being the Yull Ball they want it to snow but I don't think the weather is going to let up".

"Oh well that part is easy" declared Lupin "I can help with that" as he tilted his chin upwards and flicked his wrist. Y/N began to see tiny white specs appear from the pale grey clouds above them. These delicate snowflakes thickened and soon the courtyard and trees around them were lightly sprinkled with snow. Y/N's eyes glistened with joy "Remus your incredible!" he marvelled as he gripped onto the taller man's arms. Remus' eyes failed to hide how much Y/N's touch affected him as he stared down at the groundskeeper, flakes of snow falling upon the tip of his nose. This moment of silence caused Y/N to panic and he start to withdraw his embrace but before he could fully retreat Remus' large hands pressed up against Y/N's shoulders blades, bringing the young groundskeeper closer to his chest. "I've been thinking a lot about the last time we saw each other" Remus said, the words were pouring out of his mouth before he had time to assess them. "I.. I would every much like to kiss you again" by this point both men's shoulders and tops of their heads were covered in a light layer of snow, Y/Ns Y/E/C eyes smiled up at the older men as his thumb gently whipped a snowflake off the corner of Remus' moustache. "Go on then" Y/N simply said.

Remus rocked back and forth on his heels but stated in position, both men staring into each others eyes. After a minute of neither one making a move both their brow dropped in confusion which was followed by heartfelt laughter from each man as they continued to hold each other. "I'm sorry, I'm nervous" Remus replied honestly, "truly I've never felt this way towards anyone before. It's surprising and somewhat daunting" looking deep into Y/N's eyes Remus sighed "but I can't deny how much I like you Y/N" and finally Remus leaned down and pressed his lips against Y/N's. The kiss felt gentle and cool, each set of lips quivering slightly with excitement. Remus began to pull away but as if by instinct Y/N came closer and kissed the Professor again. Their mouths started to open and their tounges met one another, it felt like pure ecstasy. Something strong was building up in both men's chests, when they finally separated they both were breathing heavily, Remus rested his forehead upon Y/N's and licked his lips. Y/N tasted wonderful. "Remus" Y/N whispers intensely, he repeated the Professors name again, and again, each time causing Remus to cling onto the groundskeepers shoulders tighter. "Remus, I need you" Y/N began to whisper before moaning with pleasure as the Professor picked him up by the waist with ease, one of Remus' hand snaking around to the back of Y/Ns neck, pulling him down to Remus' mouth. Y/N's legs wrapped around Remus' waist as the Professor proceed to walk around to the back of the thick oak tree, concealing themselves from any preying eyes. Remus pushed Y/N's back against the tree as his lips hungerly descended down Y/N's jaw line and towards his neck. The younger man tilted his head back and bit his lip to stifle a whimper as he felt the Professor's lips behind to suck on his skin. These submissive sounds only turned on the Professor more as his hands slipped down Y/N's back finding the curve of his arse and pawing his hands over both cheeks. Remus let Y/N's body slip to ground level and then both men's hands were all over each other. Remus' hands were practically shaking as he undid Y/N's gold buttons of his waistcoat and then the line of buttons down his shirt. As soon as Y/Ns chest was exposed Remus' kisses followed the line of newly visible flesh. Once he reaches Y/N's stomach the Professor dropped to his knees while his hands outstretched above him, feeling over Y/N's chest and waist. Y/N softly moand as his own fingers embedded deep into Remus' thick hair.

Remus tounge was playing with the waist ban of Y/N's trousers when his fingers ran over Y/N's skin just under his nipples and felt a change in the texture of skin. Looking up Remus suddenly observed two faded but promininte scars across Y/N's chest. Starting from the centre of his torso they curved around to just under the groundskeepers armpits. Remus then felt the light touch of Y/N's fingers scooping his chin and titling his head so his eyes would met the warm pair staring down at him. Y/N smiled, "Your not the only one with scares Remus". Remus stared carefully at Y/N's face, understanding what was being conveyed and he beamed up towards the younger man before returning to passionately kissing and nibbling around Y/N's hip bones. The Professor shifty unbuckled Y/N's trousers and pulling them down, excited to already see a small wet patch of precum on the man's boxers. Remus let out a bestial growl before placing his hot lips over the wet fabric, pressing his tounge down upon it and licking repeatedly. Y/N hit his head against the tree bark and roughly cupped his own hand over his mouth to muffle his cries of pleasure. Small pricks of tears appeared in the corner of his eyes.

Just as Remus' hands had found their way again to the small of Y/N's back, squeezing and pulling the man's crouch closer to his mouth, the two men suddenly heard a sea of noise steadily approving them. The sound of the corridors being filled again and the eager noise of students was approaching. In a panic both men straightened up and Y/N frantically began to re buckle his trousers yet as the sound of the approaching crowds grow louder, Y/N turned and looked at Remus with fear in his eyes, "What are we going to do?". "It's alright" Remus whispers as he swiftly weaved his arms around Y/N's waist drawing him close and pulling out his wand he gracefully flicked it through the air and the pair araperated with only seconds to spare.

The quiet peacefulness of Remus' living room was rudely interrupted as Y/N and Remus crashed down onto the floorboards. Landing on one another and rolling across the floor slightly. Groans of mild pain transformed into sighs of relief and then slowly turning to look at one another they couldn't help was start giggling and then full blown howling with laughter. "I'm not sure where the nervous Professor I knew before has gone, but I have a feeling this new Professor is going to get me in a lot of trouble" Y/N chuckled breathlessly as he brought Remus into a sidewise hug, still laying on the floor, kissing his lips tenderly.

Even being high up in Remus living quarters the echoing sound of the school bells could be heard from afar. "We both have classes we need to be teaching right now don't we?" hummed Remus with an exhausted half smile over his face, Y/N nodded, his eyes still droopy and lost in Remus'. Begrudgingly the groundskeeper sat up and buttons his shirt and waistcoat back up, brushing his clothes down he made his way to the door. "Come here tonight!" Remus called out, still sitting on the floor, a mixture of lust and yearning in his voice. Holding onto the door handle Y/N turn back and smiled earnestly at the Professor, "Of course".

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