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#if i had a doll made of me and it was ugly i would be wrecked
cat-eared-dollwitch · 10 hours
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The doll felt its witch’s arms gently snake under its own. She held its brass and porcelain body against her, her grasp soft and tentative.
“If I asked you to hurt me, would you?” She asked her doll. Her voice was quiet and fragile. Something was wrong.
The doll hugged its witch back, thinking. Pseudo-flesh on a titanium frame. They were both dolls of a sort. Porcelain fingers splayed out on the witch’s lower back, feeling through the fabric of her shirt the tightness of synthetic muscle around her spine. Its witch liked it when that valley in between muscle groups just above the base of her tail got massaged. It had a calming effect on her. It usually made her purr, actually, but in that moment her throat stayed silent.
“I would never hurt you, ma’am.” the doll intoned.
“Even if I asked you nicely?” the witch asked, then gently nuzzled her face into the crook of the doll’s neck.
“Negative.”
Her voice was muffled by the fabric of the doll’s dress when she spoke again. “Or if I ordered you?”
The doll felt something twist in its clockwork heart. Its hands froze on its witch’s back, the massage halted. “I… think that would make this one very sad, ma’am.” It’s voice wavered a little, emotion just barely showing through.
“Oh..” the witch squeezed its doll a little tighter in her embrace.
The doll didn’t want to think about hurting its witch. The very idea made it want to cry. It said as much, voice almost breaking from the feeling in its chest. “Being forced to hurt you would make this one cry.”
The witch flinched a little. “I-I’m sorry. I won’t ask you about something like that again.”
“It is alright, ma’am.” it intoned simply. The sadness slowly began to drain out of its frame and its hands started to knead and rub its witch’s back again.
The witch was silent for a few moments, then asked another question. “If I was hurt, would you tend to my wounds?”
“Without question.” Her doll answered immediately.
The doll felt the witch shake softly. “Thank you.” she murmured against her doll’s dress.
“There is no need for thanks. Taking care of you is my job, ma’am. It would be an honor to bandage your wounds.”
A shaky half purr escaped her throat. “Thank you anyway.” she said.
“If you were broken into one thousand pieces, this one would stitch every shard back together, one by one, until you were whole again.” it said, finding its voice full of a conviction that it didn’t realize it had that much of.
“Oh doll...” the witch murmured and more shaky purring followed. And as a tail curled softly around its leg, the doll realized its shoulder was getting wet. Its witch was crying.
“Ma’am?” the doll queried.
A fragile “Mhm?” in between broken purring was all it got in response.
“Care you.”
Its witch sobbed once, an ugly sob ripped free from a throat already occupied by self-comforting vibrations. The doll held her tighter, close and secure.
“Safe.” it said simply, one word carrying the weight of so much more than just its dictionary meaning.
The witch took a moment to get her shuddering breath under control. She sniveled. “Safe.” she rasped back. She was safe. “Thank you. Care you too.” she added, and meant it with her whole artificial heart.
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snowsinterlude · 4 months
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playing dangerous.
c.w: gun play, peacekeeper coriolanus, fingering, rough sex, throatfucking, slapping, degrading, breeding, hate fucking, unproctected sex
based on this ask ! hope you like it anon, sorry if i got anything wrong. mwah
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you could say a lot of things about coriolanus snow. you could say he was mentally unstable, that he was a whiny bitch who would throw a tantrum at any small thing that made him angry.
however, you couldn't say he was a bad fuck. not when he had your face pressed down and a gun pointed at your sopping cunt. you couldn't say he was ugly either, not with that white peacekeeper uniform hugging his body so well.
"don't worry," he whispered, biting your shoulder, "it only has one bullet." he smiled, chuckling at your clear despair, a total contrast to your soaked panties. "not as if you care, though"
"of course i do! fuck it, snow. you're the reason people call cops bastards!" you said, frowning at him as if your hips weren't bucking up on the gun. you didn't even knew if what he said was actually true.
"you should be grateful i'm not playing russian roulette on your pussy, darling." he said, thanking heaven's he handcuffed your hands before all that. "if you don't like it, i know just the right place to aim it. other than that perverted wet pussy of yours. are you a pervert? god, you're soaking wet" he said, grinding the gun in your cunt.
"aim it at your head, you sickfuck." you spat, not bothering looking at him.
"i don't know if you noticed but i have a gun pointed to your pussy, if you don't wanna get shot you should start being a good girl instead of a manic bitch." he said, slapping your ass and making your body jolt.
how the hell did it come to this?! you remembered that he had returned home after deployment and your parents made you go over to his house to give him some sweet dessert as a way to ❛thank him for his services.❜ fuck it. you hated him. if depended on you, he would have been killed by a rebel or something, but god, that's the best dick you've ever seen or felt, even if through grinding. you would never admit it to him though.
"on your knees, please." he said, a fake chivalry on his sadistic tone. and did you have any other options? of course not. so now you were on your knees, gulping down and watching him unbuckle his pants, his hand slapping your face lightly to make you wake up and stop looking so much at his eight inches shaft. "god, you're drooling so much just from looking. guess i won't have to aim a gun to your head for you to suck it." he said, and you stared at him with anger.
"you better kill me already cause i am not sucking that thing." you said.
well, all your defenses were throw away as he pointed the loaded gun to your head, smiling as you opened your mouth and engulfed him obediently, still looking at him with that angry stare in your eyes, that was soon replaced with tears as you took him. god, how could a dick taste so good?
"fuck, you're taking me so good, doll." he said, smiling as you drooled on his dick, getting it all wet from your saliva. "making such a mess, crying so much... you're so pretty when you're not running your mouth around so much." he said, grabbing your hair and making you curse mentally before he started to fuck your throat, his balls meeting your chin as you took him, giving in as you moaned against his cock.
too aggressive, you thought. but it was just as good as you imagined it to be. and he was getting just what he wanted to. he was fucking that attitude out of you, your throat taking him so well he only wondered how good it would feel to fuck your cunt. with that thought in mind, he pulled back of your mouth, and you thought you were really dumb from how you tried to get him to thrust into your mouth again. you wanted to taste him, and he couldn't help but chuckle at your despair.
"i didn't even had a proper taste of your cunt and you're already dumb? thought you were stronger." he said, getting you to stand up as you were still salivating. he cleaned your tear stained cheeks, the softest thing he would do to you today. so, ripping your panties and seeing your cunt, he thrusted two fingers in it, not mindinho if you were uncomfortable. your wetness made it very clear that you weren't anywhere close to discomfort or pain. and your moans did it too.
"fuck it, get away, coriolanus!" you pleaded, not wanting to be the one moaning his name that night. and he didn’t even bother listening to you, too occupied with thrusting his entire lenght inside of you. it felt horribly good, his hot cock sloppily fucking your pussy as he fucked you in missionary, holding your left thigh to hug his waist just so he could have a better access to you. so good. so hot. it felt perfect.
you felt dumb.
your eyes closed shut as you did your best to hold in your moans, letting out a few groans and grunts as he slapped your ass, getting a hold of your other thigh and fucking you with your back against the wall, your eyes looking into his. fuck. you prayed to god that he wouldn’t end up making you say something, but god didn't seem to want to help you.
"tell me, doll," he started, groaning against your lips. "who does this pussy belongs to?" he asked, and you did your best not to answer, but the way your hips were trying to buck against his seemed as an answer. "words, bunny. use your words."
"n-no. no- i won't- fuck!" you moaned, lips opened slightly as you couldn't help but let your moans out of your mouth. you just wanted to cum already. it was too brain-mushing for you to do something other than moan and squeeze his dick inside you.
"tell me, or i'm not gonna let you cum." he said, brushing the gun on your clit, the cold metal making you mewl and cry.
"i-it's yours, c-coryo. it's yours. i'm sorry! please let me cum!" you begged, crying. he smiled, kissing your cheek and tasting your salty tear drop.
"i don't recall letting you call me coryo, bunny." he said, his dick kissing your cervix as you felt it throbbing inside you.
"o-officer! fuck, i'm sorry!" you slurred, and finally he had what he wanted.
he finally fucked the attitude out of you. not only that but he also got his dick wet. it was perfect.
"good girl." and you came, shaking on his cock as he kept thrusting in you, running for his climax.
once he did came inside you, he didn’t allow you to clean yourself, made you walk and sleep with your pussy filled by his cum.
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minihotdog · 2 months
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Have You Seen My Boyfriend?
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Summary: You see Simon in the mask for the first time
C/W: angst (?)
A/N: I've been wanting to write this fic for a while now and I didn't really know what to do with it BUT @celestialwhoree wrote this lovely fic right here and it lit a fire under my ass. I also don't think Simon would wear his mask outside of combat-active areas sooo I threw that out the window to make this work.
Word Count: 723
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He didn’t even remember that he still had that damn balaclava on when they touched down on the runway. Months had gone by and eventually, as it always did, it began to feel like a second skin.
He never let you see him with it on either. Simon made sure to keep Ghost on the field and Simon at home. He’d watched countless men throughout his career take work home with them and the damage it left on everyone they touched. He wasn’t perfect. He had his own struggles in disconnecting from the adrenaline and danger, but he’d been meticulous so far.
Since you came into his life the balaclava stayed in his ready-to-go bag that you weren’t allowed to touch.
The bulk of the unit grabs their bags and heads towards the hangar as fast as they can, happy to be freed from the C-130 they’d been cramped into like sardines for hours. Their families wait for them, cheering as they get closer.
Simon knew you didn’t like crowds and messaged you to meet him at the compound instead, he’d instructed a private to let you inside the barrack’s common area to wait for him.
You were sitting on an ugly old brown couch fidgeting with your fingers. He’d been gone for months and your excitement to have him back home was mixing with the anxiety of being in this environment that didn’t feel right for you to be in. You wondered if he’d get in trouble for letting you be there.
At some point, you get on your feet and begin pacing away from the door in case they barge in to take you away for being in a restricted area unsupervised.
Simon detours to throw his bags in his office before heading towards the common area. His weapon and clips are long gone, turned into the armory waiting for his next embarkment. His vest is still snug on his frame, his skeleton-printed gloves still donned with months of sweat and grime soaked into the fabric, and his forgotten balaclava sticking to him absentmindedly.
You jump out of your skin in fear when the door swings open and spin around on your heels to meet your awaiting demise. Your nerves don’t subside when a giant man steps into the room. All the air suddenly gets sucked out.
He’s covered head to toe and the only thing your eyes can focus on is the skull print on his face. He closes the door behind him, his eyes not leaving yours.
You swallow harshly, trying to force words out. Or do anything to save yourself.
“Have you seen my boyfriend?” You squeak out. You watch the mask move over his features and you avoid his eyes at all costs. The overcast from the eyeholes makes them look like black holes.
“Y/n,” He breathes out while taking a step closer. You swear to yourself he almost sounds like your Simon but the alarm bells continue going off at the sight of him. You take a step back and in his exhausted state, it finally clicks. His eyes close and his eyebrows furrow in disbelief. He looks over you taking in your reluctance and the fear coursing through you.
Fuckin’ Hell
He reaches up slowly to not scare you. His fingers pull at the fabric at the top of his head slowly pulling the balaclava off to reveal his all-to-familiar face, his messy blond locs sticking out in every direction.
“Jesus, Simon!” You gasp, running to him and banging on his chest. “You scared the shit out of me! What the fuck!”
He wraps his arms around you, pinning you to his chest. You writhe in his arms trying to escape.
“I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to.”
You look up into his sad chocolate brown eyes now freed from the darkness that hid them before. “I never wanted you to see that, doll. That isn’t me, I promise.” His voice comes out soft and full of regret.
He yanks his gloves off letting them fall to the ground so he can lace his fingers in your hair. He holds you against his chest, occasionally brushing his lips against your forehead.
Cats out of the bag.
He doesn’t know what to do now. What if this is the start of something he can’t prevent?
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slytherheign · 1 year
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YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker
PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 3.9k
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SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.
WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]
AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!
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DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).
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It was Friday Night.
Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever. 
Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.
“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.
You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark.  “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow. 
“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.
“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.
Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.
Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.
In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.
“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?
“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.
The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.
“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.
He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.
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“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.
“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”
“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.
“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.
“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”
“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”
“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”
“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”
“Since when did you get a dress?!” 
“Uhh… since last week?” 
“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”
“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”
“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.
“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”
“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”
“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”
“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”
“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.
“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”
“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.
You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you. 
Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.
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You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again. 
You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.
You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.
You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter. 
Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.
“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.
“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone. 
“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”
“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered. 
He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.
You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. 
You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.
All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.
But maybe he belonged with someone else.
And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?
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The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.
If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.
“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”
“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?
“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”
And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?
You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.
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Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.
You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.
For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.
Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”
You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking. 
After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.
“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”
“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.
“Oh my god.”
“MJ, what is it?” 
“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.
Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels. 
You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.
“Yes.”
You did not expect what you saw.
The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing. 
A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.
You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”
“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”
He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.
“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”
“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”
Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.
“What about Gwen?”
His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.
“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”
His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.
“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”
“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”
“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”
After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.
“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.
“Yes, and no.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”
“Pete…”
“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”
Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”
“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”
Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”
You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.
“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.
“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”
“Wait–MJ is a part of this?” 
“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”
You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?
Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.
“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”
You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.
You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.
“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.
“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.
“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.
“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.
“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”
You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.
For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.
Needless to say, the future was exciting.
If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.
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SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx
TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST:  @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan
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munsonsreputation · 3 months
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i'm falling in love, again
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: [6.7K]
warnings: no use of y/n, friends to lovers, infidelity (reader's ex), characters are in their early 20s, modern!au (they've got cellphones and text messages okay!!!), cursing, some angst w/ fluff ending.
summary: you thought the plane was going down, but somehow, someway, all the fates and all the stars aligned, and now you were lost in labyrinth of Steve Harrington’s mind forever.
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“Hey doll,” Steve greeted softly, holding out a bunch of flowers towards your figure that stood slouched against the wooden doorway, sadness filled orbs meeting his.
You pouted deeply, eyes brewing with tears that blurred him out before you blinked and set them loose. He made a sound, sighed and tsking before he finally closed the space and wrapped you up in his arms, letting you fall against him while you wept into the crook of his neck.
“H-hi Steve.” You croaked, fingers sinking into his back, trying to anchor yourself as he rubbed your skin up and down attempting to sooth the biting warmth that swarmed your body.
Pulling away slightly to look down at your tear-stained face, he gave you a tight smile and gripped you a little tighter.
“Let’s go inside, yeah?” He suggested.
You nodded, pulling yourself away from him and swiping your cheeks with your fingers, letting him step into your apartment watching as he locked the door shut and toed off his shoes.
It was emptier than usual, missing footwear from the shoe rack and lonely pegs of the key holder that used to hold another’s. Your ex had finally come around to pick up his things that were left behind. Even if it was a month of separation and him overseas preparing you to see him, it sucked the soul out of your body when he knocked and stood on the other side waiting for you to let him in now that the locks were changed and his spare was no use.
“Sorry for the mess,” You sniffled, gesturing pathetically around the disheveled area, still trying to get rid of everything that reminded you of him and the things that he left behind.
He shook his head, setting the flowers down on the kitchen table and walking over to you. You hated crying in front of him mostly because he hated seeing you so sad, but you couldn’t help what you were feeling inside.
“Don’t apologize. I’m never gonna judge you.” He reminded you never wanting you to feel bad for feeling how you did.
His hands fidgeted with your fingers, rubbing comforting circles over your skin, hoping to get the slow trail of tears to stop pouring and your breathing to even out.
“What do you wanna do?” He proposed, speaking so delicately, careful and considerate, “I can help you get rid of whatever you want out or we can sit down and talk, or we don’t have to talk at all. Whatever you want…I’m here.”
The truth is, Steve was always there through the good, the bad, the ugly, and the stunning. He was one of your closest friends who saw you through and through everything and no matter what, he always made it clear that the second you needed him or anybody, he would be there.
He was the first one to officially meet your ex before he even asked you to be his girlfriend. It all happened when you went on your first date that was soon running a little too late into the evening. Steve was sitting by himself in the corner of the pizzeria as per your request just in case your date turned out to be horrible and you needed a convenient way out.
Three taps of your foot against the tiles meant, “please get up and get me out of there,” and so when he saw you do just that, he didn’t hesitate to stand up and “run into you” by coincidence.
“Oh, hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” Steve beamed, holding his arms out wide as you smiled and stood up from your seat, embracing him in a hug.
“Hey Steve!” You greeted, pulling away and turning to your date.
“This is my friend, Steve! We actually live in the same apartment complex.” You explained, watching as they both shook hands and Steve nodded towards him.
Steve snapped his fingers, pointing at you as if he remembered something. “Don’t forget that maintenance is shutting off the water at 2 in the morning—that leak is still going at it.” He cursed, shaking his head.
You gasped, nudging his shoulder. “You’re so right! I totally forgot about that.”
Passing your date an apologetic look, you picked up your purse and slung it over your arm.
“I’m so sorry, but I think I should head home. I definitely want to shower before the water gets shut off for god knows how long.”
He stood up, nodding her head, and gesturing out the windows, “Sure thing! Did you want me to drop you—”
Steve cut him off, shaking his head and draping his arm over your shoulders.
“I think we could walk together, just makes sense since we live in the same place and it’ll save you some gas.” Steve assured him, as you nodded in agreement and said your goodbyes.
It wasn’t long before your arm hooked over his and you two were walking the busy streets back to your apartment complex only a good ten minutes away. You and Steve often walked together to do groceries, get late night pizza, or just to get out of your apartments for a while. He never let you walk alone though… that was always his rule.
“Did he say something stupid?” Steve suspected, peering over at you.
You shook your head, silently continuing to walk with him.
“Is he not funny?” He tried again.
You laughed this time, pushing against him gently as he nearly tripped over his own feet.
“He wasn’t not funny.” You chided.
He wanted to beg to differ, seeing as though you spent most of the date nodding and smiling, not much laughter going on, but maybe he was just reading too much into it. But he tried to think up what could have made you want to cut the date short and head back home thirty minutes earlier than you were supposed to.
“Do you not find him attractive?” He said once more.
Your lips curled, eyes shooting up to think to yourself as you neither shook your head nor nodded, just simply shrugging.
“He’s great, I had fun… I just don’t know where this is gonna go.” You pointed out, stopping at the crosswalk.
He leaned over you, fist knocking into the button, waiting for the light to turn red.
“Where do you want it to go?” He met your eyes, staring into them deeply, hoping to get a glimpse of the future, yet all he could see was the slight reflection of himself.
You smiled unknowingly, taking a deep breath and letting your shoulder fall.
“We’ll see.” You whispered, tugging him along through the crosswalk.
Two piles were made in the middle of your living room: trash and donate. You and Steve went through boxes of stuff your ex had left behind, clothes, old records, knick knacks — everything that he had left for you to deal with, as if breaking your heart wasn’t enough.
“Why did he always dress like he was in boarding school?” Steve cackled, folding up a pair of slacks that added to the already tall pile of dress clothes that would be going to the Salvation Army.
You giggled, sifting through the rest of the stuff you had set aside, and hid in the back of your closet, hoping to avoid until now.
“He was really going for that stuck up, private school, douchebag look I guess.” You scorned, huffing as you chucked a meaningless valentines card into the trash bag.
You didn’t care for keeping anything from him even just for memory's sake — if anything you wanted to burn him out of your memory and forget that he ever even existed to begin with.
“Well, on the bright side, someone else is gonna be wearing these clothes to their first professional interview, but hopefully whoever it is isn’t such a jackass.” Steve scoffed, moving the pile aside to make space for the rest of the things.
“Yeah, let’s hope.” You breathed, reaching the bottom of the box, plucking out the white envelope that laid by itself.
You froze for a second, throat tightening up and your heart thumping against your chest a little stronger. It had been the thing you found that confirmed your suspicions that your ex wasn’t being as loyal as he was claiming to be. In fact, he had been sharing his devotion to another woman… one that you thought was just a friend from work, though you should have read the signs way before then.
“You okay?” Steve furrowed his brows at the sudden silence, turning to see you go rigid while you stared at the piece of paper.
The front of it was marked with her initials and his in a big red heart, encasing their names like it was some kind of holy matrimony. The other side stained with her red lipstick marks that she had left behind. The contents of the letter: a confession of her love for him — how she couldn’t believe she had gotten so lucky to find someone whom she got to see every day even if it was during boring meetings and long nights at the office.
Your heart felt like it had dropped from its cages right down to your gut, a sort of free falling feeling similar to the rise of an elevator that would come plunging down. You wanted to be in denial, re-reading the letter over and over again hoping that maybe your mind was seeing things that they weren’t supposed to — but that was the joke of it all.
You weren’t supposed to see it, but you did.
You felt the rise, quickly taking you up to the floor that you were supposed to be on, only to be left hugging yourself, not even being given a warning to brace the crash.
“I—It’s the letter.” You let out, swallowing the lump in your throat, eyes staying glued to the floor as you tossed it aside.
Steve was the first to know about it, too. You had called him, practically speechless not knowing how to go about it. He swore the first five minutes of the phone call was him asking you if you were alright and if you were still there — nothing could have prepared him for what you were about to say next.
“I…I think he might be cheating on me.” You whispered, closing your eyes, doing your best to not take it out of proportion.
Steve just jeered, puffing out a ridiculous laugh. “Why do you think that? How could he ever cheat on someone as amazing as you? I think you might be overthin—”
“I found a letter.” You confessed, and he quickly shut up then the line went silent for a few seconds.
“W-what kind of letter? I-I mean, what does it say?” He stammered over his words, still trying to grasp what was happening.
“A love letter.” You cracked, taking a harsh breath, rising up from your place on the floor to get as far away from it as possible to somehow make it feel like it wasn’t real.
“I’m so sorry,” Steve rushed the apology out.
A shuffle sounding over his voice as you let out a sob and paced your apartment panicked and distraught.
“What do I do? I—I never imagined this…never in a million years. I don’t know what to do, Steve… please, tell me, what can I do?”
You were begging, trying to make sense of the situation, even trying to see it through when you both knew there was no going back from here.
Steve wouldn’t let you do that to yourself.
A knock sounded on your door, interrupting your tears as you choked, wiping them off your cheeks, pulling the phone away from your ear slightly. You unlocked it, opening it a bit only to be met with him on the other side. He caught his breath, pushing the door open with a gently hand.
“I don’t know, but right now, I’m here okay? I’ll be here as long as you need.”
Steve stayed over that night, holding you in your arms as he read the letter to himself, trying to understand why that son of a bitch could do something so cruel to you. And when your phone went off with a text message from him, saying he’d be spending the night at the office doing paperwork ahead of the big meeting the next morning — Steve was the one who texted back for you.
You both knew he was lying, spending the night at her place instead.
It took everything in Steve to not blow up, to pounce on the moment to tell him that you had found the letter and figured everything out. That he best not even bother to come home at all because you’d be throwing him out.
But he resisted… and he always did until you were ready.
He resisted the next day when you told him to go home and get some rest after he had spent the night worrying about you and soothing you back to sleep when you would wake with the nightmares of your boyfriend and his mistress.
He resisted when you told him that you’d figure out a way to break up with your him soon, even when he knew you were holding out.
He resisted when he came to check up on you a few days later, only to be met with your boyfriend answering the door, him and his stuff still there.
He resisted when you and your friends went out for dinner, and you had dropped the bombshell on them, and could say nothing when they asked if you had broken it off already.
He never understood why you waited so long to call things off, when deep down you knew how wrong the situation was. He tried to put himself into your shoes, to imagine what you must be feeling inside that made you want to stay and be tolerated instead of celebrated. But he couldn’t feel it. He only wished you could see yourself from his eyes, then maybe you’d see it a little clearer.
That you didn’t need to stay in the footnotes or the bylines of his life, when Steve was right there, so ready and willing to make you his temple, his mural, and his sky.
But he sat and watched you until you were ready to let go — until you pulled the dagger out and lost the weight of the person who was holding you back and taking advantage of your love.
He swiped the letter away, tucking it within the folded clothes to get it out of your sights. He scooted closer to you, a tender hand coming to cradle your head and let you rest it on his shoulder.
“Do you think she knew about me?” You marveled aloud, sniffling as you grazed up at him.
He didn’t answer, just letting his fingers pull your hair behind your ears, tucking them away.
“She had to have known, right?” You stared at him, hoping he would have the answers that you’d been longing to find even after all this time.
But Steve wasn’t an expert on all this. He didn’t want to fill your head with narratives that he didn’t know were exactly true; he knew it would only make you spiral with the would’ve, could’ve, should’ve’s, but to quite honest, there was nothing that you could have done to fix it and no answer Steve could have given you to change the past.
“He didn’t deserve you. I know that much.” Steve whispered, lifting your hand in his, keeping his response short with something that he knew was sure.
You squeezed against his digits, threading your fingers through his, letting the both of you stay hand in hand on your living room floor.
“Why wasn’t I enough for him?”
He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath in keeping his eyes on yours, “Because he was an idiot not satisfied with the best he had in front of him.”
Steve knew a lot about boys. After all, he once was one of them — stupid, self-centered, ignorant, and most of all ungrateful. He lived life like everything and everyone was replaceable, a kind of numbness that he had garnered since he was a little boy following the footsteps of his dad and just trying to make him proud by being a reflection of him.
Nancy Wheeler changed that for him, his first love, such a lovely experience that changed his life for the better. But it costed him losing her too. He could never step close to Jonathan Byers, the one who was man enough to love Nancy the way she wanted… the way Steve never could.
It stung for a long time. Lots of hope that maybe one day Nancy would love him again, and more hopelessness knowing that she was irrevocably in love with Jonathan and he would have hated for her to only see him in his eyes knowing her heart always belonged to him.
The heartbreak could have made him envious at the world, wanting to lash out like a wounded animal and get revenge on the entire world like some sort of villain, but it did the exact opposite.
He took it in stride even when some days were harder than the rest. There was a community of love around him, and while it wasn’t romantic, it was enough for him to see it through and know that one day when he met the one, he wouldn’t let himself let her pass by.
You released his hand, smoothing the top of his with yours as you put on a small smile taking your head off of his shoulders.
“I’m gonna make us a drink… and thank you for being here for me.” You spoke gratefully, standing up and heading for the kitchen.
He stayed there for a second, watching you closely, trying to figure out if you were running away from talking about it or if you were just over it by now. He crossed his fingers that it was the second option; he wanted you to be over it, to not be so affected and hurt anymore knowing that you were always the better half, the one who didn’t lose anything because you already had everything you needed inside of your heart.
But he also knew it tended to get like this — thoughts so loud, presence so distant, you were a world away while he was there hoping you’d find your way back home soon.
“Fuck him, he’s a piece of shit who never deserved you!”
The nightclub was so chaotic, bright lights, booming music, even louder friends who were trying to get you to feel a little better about the breakup. Nancy and Robin had arranged the night out for you with the best of intentions, seeing as though you had spent every day since the breakup inside the apartment that you used to share with him.
It didn’t help that you broke things off right before he had to go out of town for a work, all of his things still stayed where they were, not enough time for him to find a new place or ask a friend to stay with them for a while. But it wasn’t as bad as it could have been if he was still there physically.
You gulped down the shot, pinching your eyes closed when the liquid went down with a burn before being followed by the sourness of a lime. The girls cheered around you, nudging your shoulders and placing kisses on your head affectionately.
“C’mon! Let’s go dance!” Robin whistled, grabbing your hand and attempting to pull you to the dance floor with her and Nance, but you stayed grounded, just barely glued to the seat.
You flashed her a reassuring smile and waved her off to the dance floor.
“You guys go ahead! I’ll meet you there in a little…I just need some water.” You called out loud enough through the music and they both nodded, shimmying into the disco lights.
Steve tapped his fingers against the tabletop, sipping on his Coke, no alcohol added. He volunteered to be the designated driver for the night and of course, honorary body guard if anyone messed with you guys. You didn’t know if he’d want to spend the night practically babysitting three girls, but you were glad he was there nonetheless.
“You having fun?” Steve leaned over so you could hear him better.
You nodded instantly, though there was a strain in your features. Eyes shining with a glaze over them and your smile felt like it was rehearsed, something you had spent time in the mirror trying to get right so that it was believable past the frown you’d been wearing.
He looked at you unconvinced, reaching under the table to hold your hand in his, “You can tell me the truth, doll.”
“I just…” You looked around, hoping that your friends were looking at you and sure enough they were too busy dancing to the beat of the music having fun like you were supposed to be doing right then. But you definitely didn’t want to dump it on them, seeing as though they did this for you and didn’t mean any harm.
“I, I hate that everybody expects me to bounce back, just like that.” You snapped your fingers with a clack, “I want to forget about it and move on, I really do, but I just can’t do it overnight you know?”
He nodded understandingly, thumbing over your knuckles, “I know what you mean, but it only hurts this much right now because it’s raw and fresh… one day you’re gonna wake up and it won’t hurt as much.”
“I wish that day would come sooner.”
“It will,” He reassured you, squeezing your hand three times, “But what about tonight you just pretend?”
“Pretend?” You looked at him uncertainly.
“Pretend like you’re over it, or just pretend like he never even existed? Go out there and have fun and pretend like you forgot about him, just for tonight.” He told you, gesturing over to the dance floor of people who were probably doing the same.
“You think that’ll work?” You rose your brows, and he snickered, shrugging lightly.
“Won’t know if you don’t try,” Steve whistled.
“Come with me?” You tilted your head before taking the last shot on the platter.
You let it burn, not bothering with a chaser until he pushed his Coke towards you, coaxing you to take at least a sip before nodding his head with a sly smile.
“I’m following your lead, babe.”
Steve was sober, yet with his hands intertwined in yours he felt drunk on love. Laughing so hard, his cheeks hurt as he moved with you, nonstop jumping, screaming, and dancing to the music that resounded through the speakers. Even in the neon lights of the club, nothing shined as bright as you. He would do anything you wanted in order to see you this happy, even if it meant breaking his back to make you break a smile.
He stayed on that dance floor until you were tired and needed to catch a breath. His hand stayed in yours as he drove Nancy and Robin home. He stayed and held your hair back when you threw up in the toilet. And he stayed with you in his arms on your living room couch as you cried at the haunting memories until you fell asleep.
It felt like no one could put you back together, not even yourself, but Steve was the one holding onto you during those times, and he always stayed — even now.
He tossed out the trash bags into the dumpster, placing the donated ones in the trunk of his car to deal with tomorrow. Two vintage VHS tapes sat in the corner of the trunk, something he thought maybe you both could enjoy for the rest of the day.
“I found these.” He wiggled them in the air, locking the front door shut. “I was supposed to return them yesterday, but I’ll just do it when I get back to work on Monday.”
You strided over, swapping the tapes for his drink: Coke with a splash of triple sec. Inspecting the tapes, you moped, looking up at him.
“These are both rom-coms.” You grumbled, taking them towards the living room nonetheless, him following behind you.
Steve muttered out an ‘sorry’ before falling back onto the couch.
“They’re El’s. She gave them to me to return because she didn’t want to bike all the way there. But we don’t have to watch any of them. We can just sit and talk if you want?”
You snorted, setting them down near the player just in case you both decided to watch them later. “About how pathetic I am for still letting him get to me?”
“You’re not pathetic.” He sat the glass down on the coffee table, patting the cushion beside him.
“I feel like I should be over it by now.” You retorted, tossing yourself beside him, slumping into the cushions.
“It’s not that easy especially when you were in love with him.” Steve pointed out, trying to sway you to give yourself more grace.
“I want to believe that he loved me as much as I did him, but I think that would mean I’d be lying to myself.” You admitted, shaking your head at yourself and looking down at your lap while you twiddled with your fingers.
“You don’t think he loved you?” He sought, bringing his hand towards your knee, rubbing comforting circles around it.
You shook your head, scoffing towards yourself, “I don’t even think I know what it feels like to be loved by a man in that sense. I don’t think he saw me or felt that way for me.”
“Why do you think that?”
You shrugged, thinking back to the contents of the letter, the swooping words that had been engrained into your mind like a cursed image you would forever be stuck seeing every time you closed your eyes.
“Because he never showed it, really. That letter… she said that he’d bring her flowers to the office, leave her favorite coffee on her desk with a little note, bring her an extra sandwich when she forgot her lunch…”
You rolled your eyes weakly, cursing in your mind knowing you were the one who made those sandwiches every night and packed them up for him to take, only to give it to the girl he was cheating on you with.
“It’s those little things that I never got. Those small details of the effort he never gave to me.” You pinched your fingers together, half hating that you were revisiting these feelings again and more so loathing that you were dumping it all on Steve.
He gave you a comforting look, nodding for you to go on knowing you had so much to say, and he’d stay here all night until you got it all out of your system. You bit on your lip, shaking your head as you tried to gathering what you’d been feeling.
“The worst part is, I—I feel like I gave him all the best parts of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever love like that again.” You sounded disappointed in yourself, like you had given up on your fairytale happy ending that you always wanted.
Steve’s face twisted, eyebrows pulled together, and a heavy frown playing on his lips.
“Don’t say that.” He scolded tenderly, hating that you amounted yourself to that.
“It’s true,” You laughed so sure of yourself, “I don’t think I have it in me to expect someone to love me the way I really want them to.” You threw your hands into your lap, turning to look out the window.
Steve couldn’t let you live with that thought in your head any longer. He didn’t know when you starting believing that, but he’d be damned if he let you think that your happiness was over just because one guy did you bad. If he could and if you would let him, you would realize that happily ever after was right in front of you the whole time.
Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out.
“What if that someone already does?” Steve clutched your hands, pulling himself closer to you, knees knocking into each other.
Your eyes snapped back to his, staring at him puzzled by the sudden sanguine of his voice, “What?”
He squeezed your hand three times, taking a deep breath as he spoke it out loud once again — this time a little clearer in his phrasing, needing to get this right.
“What if there’s someone out there who doesn’t need to be taught how to love you because they already do?”
His voice was sure of himself, accompanied by a bit of nervousness that only you could decipher as him trying not to get tongue tied.
“What are you saying?” You looked between his eyes, searching for an answer yet only seeing a reflection of yourself clouding his irises.
“That I’m in love with you.” He blurted out without a moment's hesitation.
You stared at him motionless, not knowing if he meant it in the way you thought he did. For all you knew, he could have been referring to the friendship aspect of your relationship. You wanted to be in denial once more, knowing this couldn’t be what you thought it was.
“Steve…” you whispered, hand going slack against his, clearly taken aback.
He didn’t let you let him go, covering your intertwined hands with his free one. Your pulse was practically beating in his palms, the blood rushing through your body in a surge and your heart beating with a rapid thumpthumpthump. You could feel his hands shaking, his chest rising quicker with each second that passed with him trying to gather his words.
“I’m not just saying this. I mean it with everything inside of me.” He promised you, letting his hand release yours only to grip your wrist and bring them to his beating heart.
Despite it all — the nerves and everything that should have shut his body down — his heart stayed steady, beating in sync with yours. He gulped thickly, dropping your hands back to your lap as he stood and paced the small space between your coffee table and the couch.
“I—I’ve been in love with since I could remember you walking into Family Video and running into me and helping me pickup the tapes while you apologized profusely. I’ve known that I have loved you since forever, but I…I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you because I was terrified that you wouldn’t feel the same way.”
He halted in front of you, catching his breath hoping you were able to at least understand some of the contents of his ramble, not getting lost in it.
Your shoulders rose with a deep breath you took in. “Why didn’t just—”
“I tried! And I was going to!” He exclaimed swiftly, raking a hand through his hair and tugging in frustration towards himself, because he felt as if he could have prevented this — you getting hurt.
He slowly took his seat next to you, elbows resting on his knees as he focused his sights forward not knowing if he could bear to look into your eyes as he spilled the rest of what he had been keeping inside for so long.
“But after your first date with that idiot I wanted you to tell me that there was something wrong…that you didn’t like him at all. I was gonna swoop in and say that maybe I could make it up to you and finally take you out on a date, but I didn’t because turned out you actually liked him.”
Your heart stopped, chest rising and falling so slowly you thought you could faint. But how could you when Steve was still there confessing his undying love for you?
“I didn’t want to get in between the two of you because it wouldn’t be fair, no matter how much I feel inside for you. I didn’t want to rob you of what could’ve been between you and him.” He swallowed, hanging his head low.
You wished he had stolen your heart and never let it be tainted with the hands of someone who was only going to drop it and hurt you. You wished that he didn’t wait and had been so considerate to the other party, when in reality he was holding back because of you… because he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.
“Y-you don’t understand how hard it’s been for me to watch you be treated like a second option, while I stand there and in my head you’ve always first. I…I don’t know why I waited so long to tell you. I’m sorry.” He said hoarsely, head lifting to glance at you where you faced him still reeling from it all.
“Don’t apologize, Steve.” You sighed, shaking your head and placing a soothing hand on his shoulder.
He wiggled under your palm, grunting to himself, “No I have to, because god, maybe I could’ve saved you from that piece of shit and what he did. If I would’ve just spoken up and told you that I’m in love with you sooner, things could have been different.”
Maybe he was right, that if he would have said something after that date, things wouldn’t have gotten this far. But perhaps it was fated, the way that it hurt so much at the time and how he thought he would have to spend his whole life getting over you knowing it was going to be impossible.
Break up, break free, break through, break down.
“Things can be different now.” You murmured, jaw trembling at the notion you just let out.
He sat up calmly, beaming into your eyes. “It can?”
You nodded assuringly, taking his hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it three squeezes knowing this was going to be a long road, but you were willing to take it with him.
“You know my number by heart. You come and water my plants when I’m staying late at work, and if I’m lucky, which most times I am, you leave me dinner in the fridge.” You told him, watching as a small smile spread across his face.
Steve did things that friends didn’t always usually do. He was the one who came over and changed your locks for you to save you the stress of not knowing when your ex would show up eventually and let himself in. He was the one who spent hours watching videos on how to do it himself, going back and forth from the hardware store to get everything he needed. He didn’t even let you help, shooing you off to lie in bed and get the rest you had been missing, all the while he made sure you were going to be okay.
He knew it wasn’t going to stop him from eventually coming back, but it was enough to at least give you a warning, something that you deserved after all of it.
“You know when I’m lying and instead of trying to pry me out of it you get me to talk about how I’m feeling.”
Steve was never accusatory when it came to you. He never wanted to shine the light on something you were trying to keep hidden in order to stop him from worrying about you — he knew you had the best of intentions. But he knew he should’ve been the least of your worries. He would stare at the ceiling with you, not saying too much or reading too deep into things, as he just wanted to help you let it all out — melancholy and all.
You took a deep breath, bringing your joined hands into your lap, shaking it mildly, “Y-you care about me so much so that you pick up every call before the second ring, and you…” pausing, you smiled up at him in awe, giving into the feelings and setting yourself free.
“You love me so much that you almost thought you lost the love of your life.”
Sitting eyes wide opened, Steve only had one thing stuck in his mind — you were the love of his life, the bullet that you never were, the thing that he didn’t dodge and even if you were, he’d let you pierce through his heart knowing at least it was you that got him at the end.
“W-what?” He buzzed, swinging his head, hoping he wasn’t reading you wrong.
“I’m falling in love with you, Steve.” You professed, eyes filled with sincerity and longing.
You pursed your lips, shaking your head at yourself, going on with your words.
“I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner, but I feel like I’ve loved you my whole life, and when I met him… a piece of me died because I wasn’t with who I was supposed to be with. Like I wasted all my love on him when you were right in front of me all along.”
It made perfect sense that every time you tried to search for something in his eyes you only saw yourself, not just in the reflection sense, but deeper than that. Past the irises and clouds of hazel, you could tell he was always looking at you, even in a room of faces that in his eyes were blurred into nothing when you were before him.
And like you, when Steve looked in your eyes he saw himself. The way that you would always find him in a crowd before anyone else. He was the first sight you wanted in your views and the last, if anything were to happen to you. Every time you met his, it felt like coming home, a sort of familiarity that even your apartment couldn’t sum up.
Steve shook his head at you, bringing his free hand up to your cheek.
“You didn’t waste all of it… I know you’ve got some left in you.”
You laughed lightly, leaning into his touch as you hummed. “For you, I do.”
“You can love again, let me show you that you can,” He promised, his voice never breaking, a vow that he was ready to make and destined to keep.
Like clockwork, his hands squeezed your three times, and you nodded, knowing he was with you on that road and he wasn’t going to leave you stranded. You could trust him… you always could.
His forefingers held your chin, your eyes fluttering shut, feeling his breath fan against your face.
Oh no, I’m falling in love again.
Your faces slotted into each other, leaning in closer and closer until you felt his lips on yours. Plush skin, brushing against your lips, moving gently together and there you were afraid that it wasn’t going to last… that this was too good to be true.
Oh no, I’m falling in love again
You felt the rise of the elevator, the takeoff on the runaway, the anticipation that settled in before you let it take you wherever it wanted. His hands cupped your cheeks, yours wrapping around his neck, the two of you not daring to leave each other just yet.
Oh, I’m falling in love
Your hearts were beating out of your chest’s, the thumps resounding in the air through your eardrums, letting it be the only thing you could hear. There was no crashing, no turbulence coming through to you — no need to brace yourself for an impact that wasn’t coming.
“I love you,” you whispered breathlessly against him, foreheads pressed together as you both opened your eyes and stared into each other.
“I knew you could.” He beamed, pulling you back to him as you giggled into another kiss that would be many of a lifetime.
You thought the plane was going down, but somehow Steve turned it right around — this time the love would last… just like that.
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: this somehow turned into a 6k fic when it was supposed to be a small little blurb...oopsies!!! anyways, i hope you guys like this one -- i feel myself slowly coming out of my writers slump and it's been really nice and refreshing to get to write again without the pressure on my shoulders. labyrinth is also becoming one of my favorites off midnights, i just adore it so much and while it's not so lyric heavy, the production ties it all together. let me know what you guys think and isn't stevie a cutie patootie??!
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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bunnys-kisses · 20 days
Text
bright as the morning
simon "ghost" riley
cw: plus sized!reader, smut, pwp, body worship, possessive behavior, jealousy, age (early 20s/mid 30s), simon can pretty much bench-press you, oral sex, missionary the mating press
bunny says: like fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? request your own! (title inspired by hozier's 'too sweet')
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there was a period of time you thought you were ugly. you thought guys either ignored you or made comments because of your size. the sight of you made them gag and they'd rather be single than date you. even now with more confidence, you still couldn't believe when men hit on you.
you were waiting for your boyfriend at the mechanic's shop. you were in nothing too special, just wanted to join simon as he got his car. but you were adamantly listening to a mechanic around your age talk your ear off about cars. you thought he was just being nice.
but then you felt the presence of your boyfriend. the air got cold when he was near and he looked over you like a shadow, "the car's here."
you looked over and smiled up at your lover. he took your hand in his hand and headed away from the mechanic. you tried to keep in pace with him but his strides were just too big. then in front of the car, he looked over at he other man and pulled you close to him and kissed you through his mask.
"my doll." he said quietly, "was he causin' ya any problems?"
you looked up at him and shook his head, "nope. he was just being nice."
he chuckled, "yeah... nice. let's get ya home, i heard you were makin' me somethin' special for dinner." then pulled away but kept his eyes on you.
you smiled, "it's canned soup, simon." and turned away to get to the other side of the car. you could feel his heavy gaze on you as you got into the vehicle. simon got in soon after, you didn't even notice the look he gaze the other man as he put his hand on your thigh.
he pulled away for a moment to put the keys in the ignition, but it was soon back on your thigh as he pulled away and headed home. the entire way home, his large hand was on your thigh. his strong fingers squeezed a little at their softness.
"are you okay?" you asked as you looked to him. you placed a hand over his, the roughness of his knuckled brushed against you palm.
"fine, love." he said gruffly.
you sighed, "i know you better than you know yourself then. tell me, did the mechanic over change you?"
"nah." he said, "just some punk talkin' to my girl."
you raised an eyebrows, "simon. he was just being sweet. nothing to be jealous over." you patted his shoulder and continued to look at him.
he replied, "after all these years, ya still don't know how beautiful you are." then looked over quickly to reach over and pinch your round cheek, "prettiest damn girl i've ever seen."
-
simon knew exactly how he was going to show how beautiful he thought you were. he liked how your thighs touched together, he loved the roundness of your face. he loved how you felt in his arms. you never held a gun, you never had to starve while on missions. you were content with the life you led up to that point. it wasn't marked by violence. you were safe enough to be a little softer around the middle, and simon though it was beautiful.
even if all your personality was extracted, he would still worship you like a devotee. worshiped your softness, kiss the plush skin. perfect.
you were in your bedroom and simon had you in his arms. he was pulling the t-shirt over your head. you wiggled out of it and helped him get off your body. he dropped the shirts then felt you up, his hard grasp lingered around your arms. he toyed with your breasts and groaned to himself.
his mask had long since been taken off. you could see the scarring on his lower face. as he played with your curves, you leaned up and kissed him on the scar on his chin.
he sighed contently, "he can't have this. only me." he let out a short chuckle through his nose before he went in for the deep kiss. he thought of the young mechanic who was trying to hit on you. it wasn't that he couldn't believe that someone would flirt with you, he just didn't get that someone couldn't see that you were already a taken woman!
no one else was allowed to flirt with him, but him!
he soon dropped to his knees and pulled your pants down. then soon your underwear followed to around your ankles. he spread your thighs a little and dipped his head between your legs.
you let out a small noise and tangled your hands in his blond hair. your face felt aflame from his attention. you said, "simon!"
he chuckled, "too sweet." he kissed your thigh, "too sweet for me." then continued to orally pleasure you. he felt his soft thighs in his hands was a feeling that made him excitement.
you quivered a little and he held you up against him. you held onto his hand as his tongue lapped against your clit. you tasted like a dream, while a weaker man would expect his girl to taste like candy. but the nature taste of your wetness made his cock strain in his jeans.
"shit... simon." you whimpered.
he continued to lick at your sweet pussy and marveled in the sounds that you made. it was music to his ears as he heard you. he wanted to make sure you knew how good you looked to him.
a lesser man would ignore you for your size, but what did they know. simon knew better, he was a real man. and he loved a partner who was soft. meant it let him protect you.
he pulled away and looked up at you with wetness staining his chin. he said, 'c'mon, love. get those legs around my head." and then slowly got you up on his shoulders with your pussy right in his face once more.
he held you up by your lower back and continued to pleasure you orally. when he hit a sweet spot, your thighs clenched around his head. he made sure you were secure up there. perfect against him as made you feel good.
and with your hands in his hair, he felt amazing. his cock strained against his pants as he held you up. he often told you that it was like a bag of grapes when he picked you up. he was trained to hold up a lot more, so it was quite easy for him to pick you up.
you yelped from the sensation of his tongue on you, you panted as you held his head tighter. his forehead up against your stomach. it was a sore spot to acknowledge, but he knew how to make every inch of you feel special. even if you were insecure.
"always mine, doll." he said softly, his kisses littered the soft skin of your cunt. his touches were forms of worship across your back. he was a devotee to the religion of your love. he remembered the first time he made you orgasm on his fingers, he felt the thump in his chest. his cold heart shattered into a beating organ.
he had found a life post-war. something beyond blood and conflict. a place he could nestle his aching bones and rest. you had opened your heart and home to him, and he would be forever grateful.
it often shocked him that you weren't the most confident woman to ever exist. but he'd just have to show his worship every day until you believed it too.
he raked his blunt nails down your back side and over your ass before he held onto you lower back once more and tried to get as deep as he could against your cunt.
"please!" you whimpered, "i can't cum like this."
he said something then smacked your ass. he groaned between your thighs. it was his mission now to make sure you came on his tongue. he could hold you up all day if he had to. he felt you tense up and his assault on your clit gave way for you to hold onto him tightly and kicked out your legs as you finished on his tongue.
he chuckled as he got up slowly and headed to the bed. he placed you down gently and gazed at your naked body. simon saw the birth of venus painting when in a mission in italy. but he could believe he was seeing it for a second time when he looked at you.
you looked up at him, your face felt hot as you rubbed your wet thighs together. you didn't know what to do with your hands so you held onto the covers under you as you watched your boyfriend strip down into nothing.
that strong body, with a little more insulation than when you first met. but he was strong and imposing. he could still kill as effectively as he could when he was in the military. you swallowed and covered your face.
"don't hide from me. i want to see it all." he said as he gazed down at you.
you moved up the bed and he got on top of you. he handled you easily and with care. he loved the feeling of your softness against him. you felt like a dream, a warm heat he could find comfort in.
he didn't want anyone else to have you. he wanted you all to himself. to enjoy and love. to make him feel complete as he rubbed his cock up against your slit him holding your legs.
"i love you."
"i love you too."
he continued to rub up against you, teasing your pussy before he sank his length into you. he was tempted to pin you down to the bed, but he liked when you got all shy. he found in endearing when he made you blush so much that you hide yourself from him.
"do you like that?"
"love it."
he then slipped his cock into you, he sank in easily thanks to all his work on your pussy. he held your legs up as he pushed in fully. he exhaled deeply as he felt the air leave his chest.
you tried to kick out your legs once more but he kept them pinned to him as he started to rock back and forth. he moved against you, letting your wetness give him access to the deepest parts of you.
he moved against you and you held onto the bed under you.
"you look amazing." he said, "i wanted to kill that guy for talkin' to ya. i want you, and i want you all to myself. you're too perfect. all mine."
you looked at him and replied, you breathed deeply, "i only want you too, simon. i wouldn't want anyone else." you felt yourself get dragged as he got off the bed and held you up by the hips a she pushed down into your cock which almost left you in a mating press.
you felt your stomach in your throat as he pushed down into you. the sounds of sex filled the air as the two of you fucked on the bed you shared.
"i think you're just perfect." he said, "no other girlie like you. you make me wanna be a good man."
you replied innocently, "you are a good man." if you only you knew what he had done before he met you. he leaned forward and kissed you once more which squished your further.
he thrusted into you at a quick but steady pace. he watched your face changed the more he brought you pleasure. you were a sight to behold in front of him. he watched your body move against him, your curves shake with his movements.
you two fucked on the bed, well at the edge of the bed. it wasn't long however before you two felt close to orgasm. he cotninued to thrust into your body, he loved the feeling of the two of you against one another. it was a comforting feeling.
he thought you were sexy, but also a place of comfort for him. a place where he could rest his head and find content with life. he just thought you were amazing. the perfect woman.
with another hard thrust, he finished inside of you. and soon you clamped around his cock and came around it. you held onto the covers for support as he railed you. once you were over the tip of your orgasm, you felt the fight leave your body.
you both got to the top of the bed and cuddled in each other's arms naked. he rubbed your curves and kissed at your neck. he could feel the sweat on your neck. he sighed contently.
"simon."
"yes, love."
"you really do think i'm pretty?'
"i don't think you're pretty. i think every woman should be jealous of you." he chuckled softly as his lips went into your hair where he buried his nose in your strands. you were his mornings, afternoons and evenings, and no snot nosed mechanic is going to get in the way of that. <3
xoxo, bunny
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after-witch · 6 months
Text
Horrorfest: To Make me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]
Title: To Make Me Fret or Make Me Frown [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]
Synopsis: You bought a life-size puppet in terrible condition and restored it. But now it doesn't want to let you go.
For Horrorfest request:
Might be cheesy, but Scaramouche haunted puppet for horrorfest? Maybe reader inherits an uncannily lifelike doll, or finds him as an antique?
Word count: 1156
notes: yandere, puppet shenanigans
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“He’s creepy,” your friend says. Her nose crinkles and she puts a hand up as if she can ward away whatever haunting abominations she imagines must be inside the doll, waiting to slither through her nostrils. “And weird,” she continues. “And broken.” 
The doll has colorful blue hair and most of his strings are missing; one of his eyes is missing its pupil and an arm is cracked, a jagged wound that goes all the way to the fingers. If the doll were to be lifted, the damaged pinky on that arm would probably come right off--maybe the forefinger, too. He’s dirty and wearing only some cast-off shirt, itself probably too damaged to be sold by the secondhand store. 
Your friend moves on, eager to head to the second floor where all the nice, expensive secondhand goods are kept, often behind glass cases so they don’t get damaged by looky-loos.
But you stay where you are.
Because the moment you took one look at the damaged life-size puppet propped up at the back of the store, in the same pricetag-less limbo as piles of tupperware with no lid, ripped books and ugly dolls missing arms, and your heart swelled. 
“He’s perfect.” 
--
The pinky on the damaged arm did come off before you even left the store, but you were able to salvage the original forefinger. The pinky, sadly, couldn’t be repaired--but you made a new one using the original as a mold and unless you’re staring quite intensely (which to be fair, you often do, when working on the puppet) you wouldn't be able to tell that it’s not original to the hand. 
“I’d like to keep all your original parts as much as I can,” you murmur in the direction of the puppet, currently propped up on a chair you’d dragged into your workroom for the sole purpose of letting him have somewhere to sit while you worked. “You really are exquisite, you know? I can’t believe someone let you get into such rough shape.” 
You sigh, lamenting the treatment of such  a unique piece of craftsmanship, and place the finishing touches on the puppet’s repaired eye. The pupil needed to be filled in with new material but you went ahead and refreshed the iris of both eyes to make them look newer. 
“Good as new, see?” You hold up both repaired eyes to the puppet, but realize your mistake when you’re greeted with a prim looking puppet with two black holes where his eyes should be. 
“Oops.” You carefully slide the eyes back into the socket, fiddling with your finger until they slot right into place. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t thinking. There!” You grab the magnifying mirror from your desk and hold it up in front of the puppet. “Now, see? Much better.”
It took a few months of work, but the puppet was just about restored, in your view. You’d even bought a new outfit for him, a simple white blouse with ruffles and plain trousers. It wasn’t exactly what you imagined he might have worn originally, but that was fine. 
“I’m glad I found you,” you say, to the puppet--and to yourself. “I’ve had a really nice time working on you!” You hum to yourself and start tidying up your work bench. “Now all that’s left is attaching your new strings, and I can have you picked up.” You smile, to yourself, to the puppet, to no one in particular. “I can’t believe that antique shop gave you away for free--they had no idea they were sitting on such a rare item!” 
But you, who repaired dolls and the like for a living, immediately knew what the puppet was worth; and who to contact as soon as you were able to get it home, as you knew a friend with an antique shop that took special requests, and he had a particularly wealthy customer who was dying for one of these rare life-sized pieces. 
The puppet with freshly painted eyes stares back at you and says nothing.
--
Something is sitting on your chest. Something heavy and cool to the touch. 
Sleep paralysis?  It wouldn’t be the first time. You did sleep on your back, after all, and your nights were sometimes restless. 
But you open your eyes without trouble, and the sensation does not go away. It takes a few moments, blinking in the dark, to realize who (no--what) is sitting on you.
It’s the puppet. 
Freshly painted eyes stare down at you, a face framed by the carefully sewn-in hair. In the dark, you can’t see the wood grains of his skin or the repair marks that you’d buffed until smooth. All you can see is his human shape, the gleam of glass eyes. 
“What--” you say, before a wooden finger presses to your lips.
“You were going to sell me.” It’s the puppet--the puppet is speaking.
You nod, terrified, every nerve in your body inflamed.
This can’t be happening, and yet it is. 
“Why?”
Your lips are dry and you stutter out an answer, hoping to wake up from this dream at any moment. But the more time goes on, the more you realize that you’re living in reality. An awful one, but reality all the same.
“I-I needed the money, you… you’re worth a lot.”
There’s a sound that comes from the puppet’s wooden throat, but you can’t quite place it. 
“You can’t sell me,” he says, simply. If you weren’t sure that you’d lost your mind, you might say that he sounds upset. Not just angry, but--hurt. 
“I-I won’t.” You swallow. “Just um. Get off me and I can…”
“No.” The glass eyes bore down on you, and you wish your eyes weren’t becoming accustomed to the dark. It was better not to see the cool stillness in them, unmoving, unblinking.
It’s then that you notice the strings.
Not on the puppet--but on you. 
The strings are wrapped around your wrists, tight, pinching into the skin. When you look up you see he’s attached them not to a marionette control bar, but to his own fingers. To himself. 
He raises his repaired pinky and your wrist goes along with it--too fast and harsh, nearly flopping over your face.
”Ah.” He regards your flopped appendage with curiosity, before simply lifting it himself and placing it back on your chest. “Well. I’ll have plenty of time to figure that out.” 
He leans forward, pressing his weight down on you, until his face was close enough that you could spot your own work; spot the little fine details in the paint, the grooves of his wooden flesh, the way his hair fell in a certain manner thanks to the placement of your carefully created knots. 
Oh, you thought, as his face came closer to yours, as he kissed you with puppet eyes wide open and wooden lips stiff. 
The paint on his lips needed to be touched up. 
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babygirl-riley · 5 months
Note
Helloo, could you do a Drabble of ghost with a reader who’s insecure about hyperpigmentation on her inner thighs and her privates. Thankss!!!
Sorry if it’s weird ask
Inside and Out
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You are insecure about the darken patches on your skin. Simon just doesn’t tell you he shows you how beautiful they really are
A/N: OMG this Anon! I have a old friend that has hyperpigmentation and they are truly beautiful! 🖤🖤 Hope this is something you were thinking of! Hope this is something you like anon! PS not weird at all! I love it 🫶🏻
“Some truths are hard to define.”
Warnings: Angst, fluff, reader!insecure, soft!simon, mentions of smut at the end, small drabble, swearing
simon x reader guide
simon x reader fluff/angst
You looked down at your thighs in the dress Simon bought you. He thought about you, especially when passing this lingerie set. You bite your lower lip as you stared at the particular large spot of darker skin. You had hyperpigmentations across your body, places that you could hide better than other because you thought they weren’t…the cutest.
You never had Simon seen them, you made sure to wear enough clothing to hide your thighs, upper back, and most embarrassing for you…your lower regions. Simon and you have been dating for 9 months with no clothes off or anything. You would be relieved when Simon didn’t want to have sex early in the relationship let alone few months ago. But now it’s happening.
You want him sure…But you were scared once walking out of the bathroom door that he will leave…think you adds some disgusting human. You inhaled deeply before reaching the handle. “Okay but don’t laugh!” You yelled for him to hear you.
Simon chuckled. “Lovie I would never. ‘M dyin’ to see ya, come show me love.”
You winced as you opened the door slowly, trying to hand the baby doll dress go lower to meet the lady panties. It was truly beautiful, pure white, the dress hugging your sides and SEE THROUGH, panties are a thing that showed everything as well. When you walked out you stood, Simon stood still as he looked at you up and down.
You started go cover yourself feeling like his eyes was burning your skin. Tears starting to fall from your cheeks. Simon’s face changed from desire and adoration to concern and worry. “Si I don’t know, I feel like that it makes me looks like…like….” You started to stumble as he walked closer.
Simon went down to his knees, clicking his tongue. “You better be saying that you look like a fuckin’ angel.”
You shivered once his hands started to place on your skin, especially near the patches of skin you disliked. “But those, they make me look ugly and I don’t want you to be disgu…”
Simon snapped his up at you, your face going red. Never have you seen a man of his stature be on their knees in front of you. Let alone so close to you. Let alone the facial expression he gave you. “Don’t you dare finish that lovie,” His finger tips were light against your skin as he rose up. Standing over you, grabbing your chin with his index finger and thumb. “Ya beautiful these little things make you special.”
“Simon it’s just…” You mumbled tears spilling more before he wiped some with his thumb then moved down your sides.
His hands rubbed up and down your thighs. Your face lighting up red once more. “These ‘patches’ are destinations for me,” You scoffed as you felt his hands squeeze a bit. “Shows me where to kiss the most at, show love for.”
“You’re being dramatic Simon.” You joked as he glared at you before he kissed you softly.
“Hm, maybe so,” He kissed you again before swiping your tongue. “But it’s true. Just like when you say my scars are stars that you love to trace. These marks are mine.” He kissed your neck sucking a bit as he kissed a mark on your shoulder, making you shiver when he softly bit on it.
Simon sloppily kissed it once again. Before he lifted the hem of the babydoll dress to wrap his fingers around your panties. Snapping them. Making you jump and softly moan. “Fuck even your beautiful destinations have marked the one place I would love to devour anytime,” You blushed as you giggled before you slapped his shoulder playfully. Simon chuckled as he kissed your chest. “Maybe the destinations lead me to where the treasure is at.”
Before you could snap a comeback about how the ‘treasure’ is your cunt. He pinched your nipples, rolling them, making you hum and stumble your stance. You hated how your hyperpigmentation was down on your kitty but never once has Simon mentioned about it besides how beautiful it looks. And tastes.
Slowly his touches and actions was making your chest less heavy. No one made you feel that way, make you feel beautiful even though you didn’t feel that way. You knew you are but moments like these makes you feel like you were some beautiful goddess. Simon would kneel for you and show you how he thought you are beautiful and speak adoration of how you are beautiful on the inside. As he knelt he kissed each mark he could find as he led his lips more on your thighs.
You hummed as he kissed further up to where you needed him the most. Simon sucked on one of your bigger marks on the inner of your thigh. You gasped as you grabbed his blonde locks. It made your stomach turn the way he kissed and sucked on it. Simon bites it harder than your shoulder and then stopped as he stood up, kissing more spots, watching you make your lip pout. He smiled as he kissed you passionately. “Get on the bed dove,” He mumbled against your lips while pushing your panties down. “Let me show ya how beautiful you really are.”
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candycandy00 · 2 months
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The Doll House - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic Part 4 (Final)
You sell yourself to the Doll House to pay your mom’s medical expenses, only to discover your trainer is the guy who bullied you relentlessly in high school: Gojo Satoru.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Read Geto’s Part Here!
Read Toji’s Part Here!
Read Nanami’s Part Here!
Read Sukuna’s Part Here!
Read Choso’s Part Here!
Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!
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AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Gojo’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!
Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Chubby Reader. Dubcon. Pet Play. Bullying. Collars/Leashes. Fingering. Anal sex. Vaginal sex. Bondage. Dildos. Humiliation. Oral sex. Tons and tons of cum. Gojo being an asshole.
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Gojo looks confused, as if you just spoke a different language to him. “Hurting you? Was I too rough with the training? I’m sorry, I thought you liked-“
“No, not the training!” you yell. The training was the only part of this whole thing you enjoyed. “It’s all the sarcastic remarks about me being cute or little or ‘highlighting my best features’! Saying all those things when I know what you really think of me! And now saying you love me?! You want to keep me?! How stupid do you think I am? How cruel do you have to be to try to get my hopes up just so you can laugh at me?!”
“What are you talking about?” he asks. “Why would I try to trick you? I wasn’t being sarcastic! Fuck, why are you so insecure?!”
You stare at him with your mouth dropped open, totally stunned. “You made me this way!” you scream, tears flooding your eyes. “You gave me this insecurity!”
He actually looks offended. “How?!”
“You made fun of my looks for two years! You, the most beautiful person in the school, laughed at me, said horrible things about my clothes and body, gave me that awful nickname, made me feel ugly and disgusting… made me hate myself!”
“I never made fun of your looks!” he says, his voice getting loud. “I thought you were beautiful! Why would I make fun of your looks?!”
“You called me Chubby Bunny!”
“It’s a cute nickname!”
You shake your head in disbelief. “Even if you thought that, didn’t you notice that everyone was laughing at me because of it? You started that! And you laughed right along with the others! You made my life hell!”
He draws back as if he’s been slapped. “I… I just teased you… I-“
“That was more than teasing, Gojo! I was terrified of you! You were my boogeyman. If I heard your voice coming down the hall, I ducked into a room or hid around a corner until you were gone, because I was so afraid of what you would say or do to me!”
“What? No! I never hurt you! I couldn’t have… I was crazy about you!”
You can’t believe what you’re hearing. Is he actually rewriting history to make himself feel better? “What about when you tripped me in the hallway? I twisted my ankle. I couldn’t even get up by myself. Geto had to help me! And while I was on the floor, another boy walked by and said I looked like a seal! A few of them made seal barking noises at me for days after that!”
The outrage in his expression is gone, replaced by a look of uncertainty. “I didn’t know anyone said that. I was just joking around. I tripped my friends all the time, even Shoko! I just wanted to see your reaction.”
“So you saw it,” you say, your voice a little more quiet now. “Did you enjoy it? Watching me limp away in tears?”
“No! I actually felt bad about it, I swear! I even thought about apologizing, but Suguru said I should just leave you alone.”
“But you didn’t leave me alone, did you? You took my things, you made constant comments about my clothes. You laughed so loud whenever I made a mistake in class or even dropped a pencil, which got everyone else laughing too. You made me the laughingstock of the class! Why did you do that to me?! What did I ever do to you?!”
He looks hurt, almost sad. “I wanted your attention. You always ignored me. Every girl in the whole school paid attention to me, except the one girl I wanted. And the only way I could get that was to make you mad. I just… wanted you to look at me.” 
“I did look at you then, didn’t I?” you ask. “I looked at you with fear. You made me dread going to school.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, taking one step toward you. “I didn’t realize I hurt you so much. I was just a dumb kid back then. I can make it up to you, I can-“
“No, Gojo, you can’t.” Tears are running down your face. You wipe them with the back of your hand before going on. “Do you remember when you grabbed that love letter I was about to put in someone’s locker, and read it out loud?”
He flinches. He definitely remembers. “Yeah, and I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done that, I know!”
“There’s something you don’t know about that letter,” you say. “I actually wrote it two years before that. I wrote it for you, back when I was in love with you. But I was too shy to even anonymously sneak it into your locker. I was afraid you would somehow find out it was from me, and be disgusted. But I couldn’t throw it away, just like I couldn’t completely throw away my feelings for you, no matter how badly you treated me. So I held onto it. And when I started liking someone else, I realized all those same feelings applied to him. So I tried to drop it in his locker. But you grabbed it, and read it, and laughed. What you were laughing at, Gojo, were my feelings for you!”
Horror is written on his face. He has the same expression as someone who has just been informed that a family member has been in an accident. “I didn’t know… I was jealous… I’m so sorry!”
You don’t engage with his apology. You don’t have the mental strength to do that right now, so you continue airing your feelings. “Even after graduating, I had a complex about my body. I wouldn’t let anyone see me naked, not even my boyfriend. He probably broke up with me because of my hang ups. Eventually I was able to bury my feelings for you, the love and the hate. But then… I came here…” you say, your voice breaking as you begin crying again. “And all those feelings came rushing back to me! I worked so hard to forget about you! And now… now my heart is in tatters!”
There’s a flicker of light in his eyes. “So you do have feelings for me! Even now!”
You scoff, wiping your eyes again. “Yes, but that’s the problem! Loving you is hurting me! Because it makes me feel low and weak and pathetic. I even started feeling lucky that someone as perfect as you could hold back their disgust long enough to fuck me.”
“Don’t say that!” he practically yells, his face twisted in pain. “This whole time I thought I was the lucky one! Fuck, I’ve practically been permanently hard since you got here! I spent my high school years dreaming of touching you. Even when I’ve been training dolls, even when I was fucking them, I imagined they were you!”
You shake your head. “It’s too late. You already did the damage. I can’t be your doll. Whether you knew it or not, you’ve owned me for far too long. I can’t let you literally, legally own me for ten more years. It would destroy me.”
He seems to be at a loss for words, his eyes shimmering and wet, like he’s about to cry. 
You wipe your face again. “I can’t stay in here tonight. If you touch me, I might crumble. If you’re serious about feeling anything at all for me, you won’t do that to me. I’ll ask the owner if I can sleep in one of the empty rooms.”
“No, I’ll go. You can stay here,” he says, his voice unusually gentle. He grabs a few things and then heads for the door. Before stepping out, he looks at you again. “I really am sorry,” he says to you, and then he’s gone. 
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Not long after, Gojo is knocking on Suguru’s door, not caring what he might be interrupting. It takes a few minutes for his friend to answer, his long hair slightly messy and his face annoyed. “What is it, Satoru?” 
Gojo doesn’t even say anything, just looks at him. 
Suguru’s eyes narrow. “Let me guess. You told her you’re keeping her and she told you to go to hell.”
“It was so much worse than that!” Gojo practically whines. 
With a sigh, Suguru says, “Let me clean up in here and I’ll meet you in the dining hall.”
An hour later, the two friends are sitting at a table, cups of tea in front of them. Gojo has told Suguru every word of the conversation he had with his doll, twice. 
Suguru takes another sip from his cup. “I tried to warn you when she first got here, but you wouldn’t listen. You never listen.”
Gojo is leaning over the table, his head on his arms. “I thought it would work out. I thought making her fall in love with me again would be easy. And it sort of was. She said she still has feelings for me!”
“Yes, you’ve mentioned that part a dozen times already,” Suguru says, sitting his cup back on the table. “But for her, you’re the person who ruined her life just to get attention. Loving you only makes her feel worse. I don’t blame her for wanting to get away from you.”
Gojo looks up. “But I didn’t know! I didn’t know so many other people were making fun of her because of stuff I did, I didn’t know about the letter. I didn’t know I was hurting her so much!”
“Now you know,” Suguru tells him. “The question is, now that you know, what are you going to do about it?”
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The next morning, you wake up in Gojo’s bed. It smells like him, and you can’t help remembering all the things you’ve done in this bed with him. 
But it’s over now. You’re going to talk to the owner and tell her to find a buyer for you as soon as possible. Gojo can move on to his next doll and hopefully both of you can put this whole mess behind you. 
The owner agrees to meet you in the welcome room to discuss your situation, and you find her standing in the center of the room. A folder is tucked under her arm.  
You open your mouth to speak to her, but Gojo suddenly rushes in. “Did you bring it?” he asks the owner, not even looking at you. 
The owner opens the folder and pulls out a paper. “Here it is, her contract. She is now your doll.”
“Wait!” you yell, confused and angry. How dare he do this after everything you said last night! You read your contract, you know you can reject him as your owner if you give sufficient reason. You’re pretty sure your history with Gojo would qualify. Still, the fact that he’s ignoring your wishes makes you livid. 
Before you can approach him, he turns to face you and holds your contract up in front of him. “You probably won’t believe me, but I planned to do this from the very start.”
With that, he rips the contract into tiny pieces and lets them fall to the floor. 
You freeze, watching the shreds of paper falling before your eyes. 
“You’re free,” he says. “You’re not a doll anymore.”
Your eyes widen. The owner sighs and shakes her head, saying, “Gojo, do you understand what you’re doing? This was your one doll to keep. You can’t ever pick another.”
“I know. I’ll never want another doll anyway,”
he says, then looks at you again. “I know this doesn’t make up for what I did to you, but I hope it can be a start.”
You feel your eyes becoming wet again. You’re free! You don’t have to give up ten years of your life after all! You glance at Gojo, unsure of what to say. 
“I never wanted to own you,” he says, his face a little sad. “I just want you to be happy. If you believe anything I’ve told you, believe that.”
“I… uh…” you flounder for a moment, trying to decide what words to use before finally settling on, “Thank you.”
He smiles at you. “Maybe someday, if you want to, we could try being friends? No pressure or anything. Just think about it.”
You nod, somewhat dazed. In the end, you leave with his phone number and return to your normal life. 
It takes over a month for you to text him. Just an awkward, “How are you?” that he replies to within seconds. You can almost feel his excitement to hear from you. 
“I quit my job as a trainer,” he tells you. “I just wasn’t all that into it anymore.”
You wonder if it’s because of what happened between the two of you, but don’t ask. A small part of you is relieved that he doesn’t currently have some other woman on a leash in his room. 
For the next couple of weeks, you and Gojo talk via text and phone calls. He never asks to meet up, and never tries to pressure you in any way. You do discuss your past some more, calmly this time. He listens quietly to everything you say, apologizes over and over, and (only when you’re ready to hear it) explains why he did all those things. 
His reasons were so childish and petty, it makes you realize he was just fifteen or sixteen years old when he did those things. Maybe it’s not fair to keep punishing someone for things they did at that age, if they’re trying to make it right as an adult. 
One night you have another anemic spell, and your friend is at work. The only family you have is your mother, and she’s still hospitalized. Nervously, you text Gojo. He’s already told you to let him know if you ever need anything, but the thought of seeing him face to face again makes you uneasy. 
Still, he shows up at your door in a flash, a bag full of food and DVD’s hanging on his arm. Seeing him standing there in your living room, so tall and so beautiful, makes your heart race.
“Did you faint again?” he asks, looking so worried. 
“No, I just felt dizzy and weak,” you tell him. 
“Then just relax,” he says with a smile. “I’ll take care of you.”
And he does. He cooks for you, brings you hot tea, and sits on the couch with you watching movies. He stays until the next morning, and you’re a little surprised that he never tried to tempt you into sleeping with him. You remember that the last time you weren’t feeling well, he did the same thing. 
To be honest, you’re a little disappointed. 
After that, the two of you are officially friends. You talk often, always checking in on each other’s days, getting to know each other’s habits and schedules. 
The friendship doesn’t last long. 
The first time you go to his place to “hang out just as friends”, both of you give in. 
One minute you’re sitting on his couch, laughing and talking, and the next you’re wrapped in his arms, his tongue in your mouth, his hands tugging at your clothes. 
He spreads you out naked on the cushions and eats your pussy like a man starved, saying how much he missed you, missed tasting you, missed watching you cum. He goes at it for over an hour, making you climax so many times you practically forget how to speak, only able to whimper and gasp. 
Then, he fucks your ass, absolutely railing you. You’re so overstimulated by this point that you just want him inside you, no matter what hole he uses. Overwhelmed by your own feelings, you start crying. Gojo holds you close to him, hugging you gently, rubbing your hair, whispering sweet words into your ear as he fucks you relentlessly. 
“It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re so beautiful. Feels so good inside you… Fuck, you’re incredible!”
You know what he’s doing, and it only makes you even more emotional. He wants you to know what he thinks of you. He doesn’t want you to question how attractive he finds you. He doesn’t want you to feel insecure. 
The two of you begin dating after that. You couldn’t ask for a sweeter, more supportive boyfriend. He takes care of you, pampers you, treats you like a queen. He even goes with you to visit your mom in the hospital. And through all this, you feel like you’re finally beginning to heal. 
And when the two of you are alone, and very horny, sometimes you go back to being his Bunny. Not Chubby Bunny, he’s never called you that since finding out how much it bothered you, but just Bunny. 
Right now, you’re in the living room of his apartment, all the curtains closed and the door locked. You’re wearing your collar, bunny ears, and thigh high stockings, and nothing else. Your hands are handcuffed in front of you, and you’re on your hands and knees, your legs trembling as you crawl toward Gojo, who is tugging on your leash. 
It’s hard to crawl with two huge dildos shoved inside you, one in each hole, both of them vibrating and rotating wildly. Earlier, Gojo got on his knees behind you and jacked off until ready to cum. Then he stuck just the tip into your pussy and filled it full. With his fingers, he scooped up the cum that leaked out and pushed it into your ass. Then he put the dildos in, leaving them to churn and stir up his cum, telling you not to let them fall out. 
It feels so good, being full of his cum, the sensation of it swirling inside you. But there’s one more hole that hasn’t had any yet. So you crawl between his spread thighs while he sits on the couch, looking down at you lovingly. You nuzzle his clothed crotch with your face and say, “Please fill my mouth, Satoru~”
You’ve only recently started calling him that. It felt a little weird at first, after calling him Gojo for all these years, but you love the effect it has on him when you purr out his name like that. 
You hear his breath catch in his throat, but he manages to compose himself. “Such a naughty, greedy Bunny! I’ve already filled two of your holes! Why don’t I just put the third dildo in your mouth?”
“No, please! The real thing… in my mouth… please,” you whine, staring up at him with glossy eyes. “Your cock tastes so good, Satoru… please feed me your cum!”
His eyes go wide, and you can just barely hear him mutter, “Holy fucking fuck!”
You’ve leaned by now that he’s totally weak to your begging. You’re the one handcuffed and leashed, but Gojo would move heaven and earth to please you, to watch you lose yourself to pleasure. 
“Th-then I guess I’ll fill that pretty mouth,” he says, his hands fumbling with his pants in his hurry to get them open. He stands up, towering over you. There’s a faint blush across his pale features, and he’s breathing a little harder than usual as he pulls out his cock. You open your lips, your tongue partially out. He grins. “You’re gonna have to open wider than that, Bunny, or this huge dick won’t fit.”
You lick your lips, then open your mouth wider, and he immediately shoves in. He fucks your mouth, thrusting into it, hitting the back of your throat, groaning when your tongue laps at every inch it can reach. 
“F-fuck! Your fucking mouth… so good…”
These moments together are so much hotter now that you can fully enjoy them, knowing he finds you irresistible. It makes you feel sexy, desired, loved. Knowing you can make him lose his mind gets you wet every time. 
Just when your jaw is starting to get sore, he pulls out so that he’s barely in your mouth, and shoots his load inside it. There’s so much! 
“Don’t swallow it yet,” he says, his face slightly red, his hair messy. He grabs the third dildo and pushes it into your mouth, turning it on low so that it can slowly stir his cum in your mouth, spreading it to every inch. Then he stands back and watches as all three of your holes, full of his seed, are fucked by the gyrating toys. 
You moan around the dildo in your mouth, locking eyes with him. He’s panting, his eyes wild with desire. Before your eyes, his cock gets hard again, standing tall and gorgeous just like him. 
He drops to his knees behind you and uses his hand to pump the dildo in your ass, in and out, making obscene squelching noises. With his other hand, you feel him pull the dildo out of your pussy. He holds it up, and you look at it over your shoulder. It’s dripping with his cum and your wetness. 
“Gotta be inside this pussy,” he mumbles, and then he’s thrusting into you, deep and hard enough to make your body jerk with his motions. You’re sore from being fucked by the dildos, which are almost as big as Gojo’s cock, but you wouldn’t pass this up for anything in the world. He pushes the dildo into your ass to the same rhythm as he fucks your pussy, making your eyes roll back as you release muffled cries. 
Gojo is grunting behind you, losing himself, babbling out words. 
“Fuck… fuck… I love you so much… this cock belongs to you… every ounce of my cum belongs to you… everything I am… yours…”
He thrusts in deep enough to make you scream, and shoots loads of hot cum into your core. After pulling out, he quickly pulls out the dildo in your ass, sticks his cock in, and shoots out the rest of his load. 
He’s panting as he turns you over, so that you’re lying on your back, your legs splayed, creamy cum dripping out of both holes. He reaches over and gently pulls the dildo from your mouth, watching as your tongue continues to lick at it, collecting any remaining cum from the sticky object. 
“Just how much do you love my cum?” he asks, staring down at you in awe. 
You run your tongue around the edge of your mouth. “It’s delicious,” you say. 
“God, you’re beautiful,” he says, pulling you up and unfastening the collar. 
You snuggle into his arms as he helps you to the bathroom, enjoying how incredibly sweet he is during after care. 
The two of you have come a long way.  Even now, you’re not certain you’ve one hundred percent forgiven him. And occasionally you remember something terrible he did to you and it makes you uncomfortable around him for a few days. But he’s putting in the work to make it up to you, and you’re having a wonderful time enjoying being his girlfriend. You couldn’t ask for a happier ending than that. 
Tag List:
@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx @deegausserr @voids-universe @hinata7346 @maflorex @issracollen @xkittiecatx @ryumurin @emrys3456 @mysecretesc8pe @typicalloser3 @gabriiiiiiii @fvsm4x @tyunhyukamyloves @rottmntrulesall
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justcressida · 8 months
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ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- DEAR VİLLAİNESS
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"I coped with living in that damn house for so long, then got accepted to a prestigious college, and I had gotten my own home. Even if it was cramped and dirty, I could be completely at rest in it. I had finally escaped those bastards. So why?! It's not even Normal Mode. At this rate, this is no better than before…!"
Record Of Ragnarok X Penelope Eckhart!Reader
POSEİDON
Even among all these gods, Poseidon's hatred and arrogance for humans was evident.
Yet the only reason for his interest in this human woman was her incredible will to live.
Never before had he seen a mortal act so frankly, so boldly towards a God.
It caught his attention. The woman was beautiful, more beautiful than a Goddess could ever be. She was daring. It was easy to get lost in his catlike squinting eyes and be caught in the cold but firm aura of the mortal.
"Your daring and indiscretion have limits, mortal. What do you think you are? What do you trust to utter such bold words to a god?"
The woman squinted her eyes, shining with anger. "Why should there be a limit to my audacity? What have you got to set boundaries with me? First you create a lineage and then you send them disasters and hardships. Then when you get bored, 'Let's destroy humanity!' Are you making a joke that isn't funny to yourself? Why should I obey? Why should I be good? Whose wrong is right based on? How can one expect creation to be pure when there is evil in the heart of God?"
A deep silence reigned throughout the arena, while all the immortals who had been mocking her until a few seconds ago, in silence and tension, turned their eyes to the Tyrant of the Seas and then to this noble woman.
He couldn't help but was impressed. Although what he really needed to do was slit her throat with his trident and punish her disrespect, a wild instinct whispered that he shouldn't punish her in this way. Punish in a different way.
The Tyrant of the Seas' lips curved slightly as the tense wait continued. "Will you stand by what you say, mortal? If you kneel right now and apologize and beg, I won't punish you." Although his tone was calm, his gaze made everyone shudder.
"Y/N! Apologize!" As Reynold screamed, Derrick grabbed his arms and pulled him back. As the beautiful woman's eyes turned towards that direction, her eyes narrowed like a cat.
"It's not worth it, Reynold." Derrick's cold words echoed throughout the arena. The woman smiled sarcastically, after all she got used to it. It didn't hurt anymore.
"I'd rather die." Their eyes met. It was like the gaze of the sky and the ocean.
"You asked for it, mortal."
Thus began your life in prison. It was more of a fait accompli than a mistreatment.
Every day you were dressed like a doll and did whatever Poseidon wanted.
You could have dinner with him if he wanted.
If he wanted, you would go to the meeting of the Gods with him.
Everything was his order, if he didn't want it, you couldn't even breathe.
You'd still rather get beaten.
Yet all you gave in regards to your feelings was your hatred of the open ocean.
"Don't make me angry and come here mortal."
"I don't want."
"I didn't ask if you wanted it. Come with me, if you're afraid I'll keep it."
"No way. I won't." Poseidon looked at the beautiful mortal as the woman shrugged stubbornly.
"It's pointless mortal that you hate the ocean so much." He didn't want to ask directly why.
She looked thoughtfully into the water as she shrugged.
"Tell me the reason for this hatred of the ocean, mortal."
"Water plays with you, water imprisons you, water makes you crazy, and the insane cannot live in society. The water overflows."
Poseidon wanted to deny it, but mortal was right. That's how he summed up his thousands of years of life.
"Let's go inside, mortal. Don't be cold."
The Tyrant of the Seas sighs as he walks ashore.
Perhaps he could leave the mortal a little to himself.
Of course he wasn't forgiven.
For now, at least, he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back.
"You are so ugly."
"You're being disrespectful again, mortal.
"But are you ugly?"
"Shut up and get in, damn mortal."
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bruisedboys · 4 months
Note
hello!!! i saw that you write for bradley and i’m OVER THE MOON RN. could i possibly request a hurt/comfort fic with a shy!plus size! reader combo? maybe a first date scenario where bradley is super late to said date and reader thinks he stood her up or asked her out as a joke so she goes home super embarrassed like “why did i think i could be w him in the first place??” bradley is devastated because he’s liked this girl for so long and he just blew it but he’s able to get her back in the end 🤩 please and thank you!!
hello angel!! thank u so so much for the sweet request, I hope it’s okay! mwah
bradley bradshaw x shy!fem!plus-size!reader cw for body insecurities
You stare at yourself in the mirror, miserable. You haven’t cried yet, but the way your stomach looks in this top might be your breaking point. You’d actually felt pretty, earlier in the evening, all dolled up in your new clothes. But then you’d waited an agonising 45 minutes at the restaurant for Bradley to show up, only to realise he wasn’t coming and you’d made a complete fool of yourself. Now you just feel ugly and so, so embarrassed.
Why would he even want me? You think, glaring at your body in the mirror. You lift your top and squeeze a handful of your soft stomach cruelly, half wishing you could rip it clean off. He probably asked you as a joke, you suppose. And you were stupid enough to buy into it.
A single, hot tear rolls down the slope of your cheek.
You’re wiping at it angrily when there’s a loud, sharp knock on your door. You flinch. It’s enough to scare you out of your miserable state, at least. You freeze, thinking maybe if you ignore it, whoever it is will leave you alone.
“Y/N?”
Bradley? You recognise his voice immediately and your heart climbs to your throat. What is he doing here? Did he not just stand you up? Is he here to antagonise you further? You creep out into the entryway, where Bradley’s voice is clearer. He bangs on the door again.
“Y/N, honey,” he’s saying. He sounds stressed and a little desperate. “I know you probably hate me right now, but please would you come to the door? I really need to talk to you.”
You feel as though an invisible force is pulling you towards the door, towards Bradley. You don’t know why on earth you do it, but you lift a hand and open the door.
Bradley stands on your doorstep, in jeans and a nice linen shirt that doesn’t have an ugly Hawaiian print, for once. His aviators hang from the collar. He’s still strikingly handsome even though you’re upset with him.
“Y/N,” he breathes out. He lowers his fist from where he’d been rapping on your poor door. “Hey. Hi.”
You shift on your socked feet and grip the door handle like it’s your lifeline. “Hello.”
Bradley gives you a look akin to devastation. “Listen, honey. I’m so, so sorry about our date. I got caught up at work, and then my car wouldn’t start, so I had to— hey, are you crying?”
Unfortunately, you are. Why now? You think to yourself. Warm, salty tears spill over your lower lashes against your will. You scrub at your cheeks harshly. Bradley frowns at you.
“Hey. Hey, don’t.” He steps forward and takes your wrists in his hands. He encourages your hands from your face and replaces them with his own, thumbs swiping at your hot tears. He’s a hundred times more gentle than you had been.
“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I feel like such a dick … I’ve had a crush on you for ages and ages and now I’ve made you cry.” He pulls you into a hug and gives a self deprecating sort of laugh, rubbing your back in quick, smooth sweeps. “What kind of loser am I?”
You sniffle. His hug is overwhelmingly warm. You feel a bit dumbfounded, and wonder if you’ve heard him right.
“You—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat and pull back out of his arms. “You have a crush on me?”
Bradley gives you a look of confusion, his hands on your shoulders. “Well, yeah, honey,” he says. His brings his thumb up to swipe at a tear collecting in the corner of your eye. “That’s why I asked you out.”
You blink at him. So … it wasn’t a joke? He didn’t do it to make fun of you? “I— are you serious?”
Bradley frowns at you. His eyebrows pinch in the middle. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Well, that’s the big question, isn’t it? You draw a shaky breath. “I don’t know, I guess because I’m not— I mean, I’m not really like other girls, Brad.”
Bradley continues to look even more confused than before. “So?” He asks, incredulous. “That’s why I like you so much, babe.”
What? This is not how you thought this would go. Why isn’t he getting it?
“But— but I’m big,” you say, feeling a bit sick. You don’t like to call yourself big, you know it doesn’t matter, but it’s the only way to make Bradley understand. “I don’t have a nice body. And. And I’m too quiet. I thought maybe you didn’t turn up because …”
You trail off. Because I’m fat. Because I’m shy. Because you’re lean and handsome and I’m nowhere near to being in your league. All things you’ve been thinking since he didn’t show up to your date. You don’t say them out loud, but they hang in the air between you and Bradley like burning hot stars anyway.
Bradley stares at you hard. You feel the heat of your confession on your neck, your cheeks.
“Honey,” he says, serious and sweet simultaneously. “Sweet girl. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.”
You duck your head. The way he’s looking at you is too much. If he keeps this up you’ll be a puddle in seconds.
“It’s not your fault,” you say quietly. It’s not. Really, it’s your own for assuming the worst of him.
“Doesn’t matter,” Bradley says firmly. “I upset you, didn’t I? I’m really sorry.” He slides his hand under your chin. You know you have more pudge there than another girl would. And yet, you find you don’t mind his touch as much as you feared you would. “Would you look at me?”
Shy, you tilt your head up with the help of his gentle hand until you’re meeting his eyes. You’re struck, suddenly, by how close he is.
Bradley smiles. He’s so, so handsome you almost feel sick by it.
“I really like you,” he says, earnest. “So much. I don’t mind that your body is different. Everyone’s body is different, isn’t it? It’s not a bad thing, and I happen to really like how you look. You’re beautiful exactly the way you are.”
You blink rapidly. Your chest feels like it’s on fire. You don’t think you’ve ever been spoken to in such an honest tone, with such lovely words. It sets you aflame from the inside out. You’re melting, a lovesick puddle of a girl.
“I don’t mind that you’re quiet, either,” he says, and somehow he’s just getting lovelier by the second, and you can’t believe you ever thought he had ill intentions when he’s being so achingly kind to you. “I think I talk quite enough for the both of us, don’t you?”
You laugh, breathless. You’re hyper aware of his hand on your face, of his chest where it’s inches from yours. Normally you’d feel self conscious with another person so close to you, your insecurities on display in full. With Bradley, and the way he’s looking at you, soft brown eyes and a kind smile, you feel special. A flower blooms in your chest, rearing towards Bradley like he’s the sun.
“I’m so sorry for ruining our first date,” Bradley says in a low voice. He brings a hand to your waist. You feel his heat through your clothes. He’s touching you like you’re something precious, like porcelain or starlight. “Do you think you could give me another chance?”
Well, when he asks like that, you know you couldn’t say no even if you wanted to.
288 notes · View notes
snowsinterlude · 4 months
Text
overprotective, lovesick, deranged.
(yandere coriolanus x reader)
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summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.
if i can't have you, no one can.
trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.
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"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.
Heads rolling for the one I adore
This may become a little brutal if I'm honest
But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"
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overprotective.
coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.
lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.
when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.
valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.
coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.
you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.
when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.
"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."
you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.
you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.
"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."
and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.
lovesick.
with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.
it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.
maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.
it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?
well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.
why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?
he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.
for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?
coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.
once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.
"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.
"yes?"
"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.
but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you
"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."
he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.
you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.
it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.
but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.
"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"
"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.
your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.
"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.
"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.
"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"
your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.
"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.
"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.
you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.
dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.
"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"
you shook your head, panic taking over you.
"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.
your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.
"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."
you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.
"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.
you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.
you were doomed.
deranged.
his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.
you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.
you still loved him after all, who would know?
not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.
"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.
"i do."
"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.
"i do."
you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.
that's what love is about.
1K notes · View notes
maislovebot · 5 months
Text
I just threw out the love of my dreams
Chuuya x reader
This one won the pole! So here it is, expect that Aku and Atsu threesome soon, don’t worry:3
Contains: afab reader, they/them prns, makeup sex, Chuuya spoils you after an argument, porn with plot, but the plot is just buildup for smut, foreplay, Chuuya calls reader pretty + darling + doll, face sitting/riding/oral (reader receiving), slight hair pulling, overstim, brief dry humping, Chuuya’s needy and vocal, squirting, creampie & belly bulge BUT I don’t explicitly mention either of them, reader is wearing a dress, proofread, aftercare
Chuuya considered himself an angry person. Things can easily tick him off, but he’s learned how to manage his anger pretty well when it comes to you. He would shut his lips whenever he felt like making a snide remark because he had a particularly bad day, and whenever things did slip, he’d apologize right afterwards.
This, however, was not one of those times.
He wasn’t even mad at you, you were just..there, and you wouldn’t stop asking him how his day was. He was really mad at Dazai, who he had happened to run into in town, and Dazai just wouldn’t leave Chuuya alone. He wouldn’t quit teasing him about his height, ‘ugly’ hats, and so on. It was mainly just light teasing though, so he decided to be the bigger person and just grumble and walk away. It clearly left Dazai dumbfounded, as he had never met a Chuuya who turned the other cheek. It stunned him, and that did uplift Chuuya’s mood a little. That was until Ougai interrupted his wonderful shopping and forced him into a mission, when he was off the clock. Ougai was claiming that times have been tight, and he needs more help than usual, but considering the type of person Ougai is, Chuuya was suspicious that the boss was just giving him more work because he knew Chuuya was in a long term relationship, and he wanted to make life as hard on Chuuya as physically possible.
The mission in of itself was fairly simple, trick some cops into thinking that the Port Mafia had absolutely nothing to do with a case (they had everything to do with the case), and considering how good of an actor Chuuya is, he was the prime candidate.
Many cops are corrupt and just want to close a case as soon as possible, so Chuuya assumed he wouldn’t need to put on a very convincing performance, but he was gravely mistaken by a certain cop. She was extremely observant, and clearly well respected in her profession. She wanted to do this thing called ‘actually getting to the bottom of the case’, and while that is a respectful ideology, it made his work so much harder than it had to be.
All that Chuuya really wanted to do was go home to you, have sex, hang out, and go to bed. But clearly he was going to have to push that schedule back.
He ultimately managed to get the cop to believe him, and he went on with his day. Briefly reporting to the boss, and going home on his motorcycle. He was just dreaming about going home and holding you close after such a long day, but he fucked that all up.
It really wasn’t your fault, but he couldn’t help but get annoyed.
“Chuu, how was it? How’d shopping go?”
You were met with silence. You assumed he didn’t hear you.
“Uhh..Chuuuyaaa how was your day?”
Chuuya grumbled, not really saying anything. Keep it in, he thought to himself. It isn’t their fault. You heard his grumble, tilting your head, attempting to grab Chuuya’s hand as he walked to your joint bedroom.
“Chuuya? What’s wrong?” You questioned.
“Leave me alone..”
“Why?”
Chuuya took a deep breath in, “please. Just leave me. the fuck. alone. I don’t wanna talk about it.”He raised his voice. “You’re being so annoying right now.”
He never did that. He’d leave a snide remark here and there, sure, but it was always apologized for pretty much the second it left his mouth.
You pulled your hand away, freezing for a few moments. You waited for an apology. He always gave you an apology.
He didn’t apologize.
You shook your head, coming back to your senses. Chuuya noticed you grabbing some shoes and a coat, then your keys. What Chuuya had done finally settled in his mind, and he grabbed your wrist. He was sufficiently stronger than you, so he did manage to hold you in place, until you jerked your arm away and headed towards the door of the lovely penthouse you two were staying in.
“Doll, I’m sorry—I don’t know why I said that!”
You kept quiet. You could feel tears bubbling at your eyes, making it hard to see as you fidgeted with your keys to find the one to the front door. You finally did, walking outside and to the elevator that took you downstairs. Chuuya followed you out, trying to convince you to talk it out. You two rarely argued, but when you did you always had a problem with running away instead of talking it out. Chuuya tried to understand it from your perspective. You shut the elevator doors on him, effectively shutting him out. Considering his powers, he could probably do something to mess with the elevator doors and make them come back up, but Chuuya didn’t want to force you to be around him when you clearly wanted space. He instead shamefully walked back to the front door, walking in and leaning against the door as he broke into a cold sweat.
He really just did that.
Chuuya looked next to him, and noticed your phone sitting on the side table next to the front door. He had no way of contacting you either.
You needed space, you’d come back in a few hours. He knew you would.
10:24 pm. It was 10:24 pm and there was still no sign of you. Every time he heard a car passing by he’d jump up and check the window to see if it was you, and it never was. He was seriously worried, after all, you had no phone and he had no other way of figuring out where you were or if you were in trouble. To make things worse, he knew you didn’t tell anyone where you were going. You never did. Anytime you were upset you were gone before anyone could even ask where you were going, and it was really biting him in the ass.
He wanted to give you space, but he was seriously worried, so he decided to get onto his motorcycle and bring his extra helmet with him. He didn’t know where you were going, but he had a pretty good idea.
You really fucked up. You would always go places without telling anyone, especially when you were sad, and now you were seriously regretting it. You had realized you’d forgotten your phone a while ago, and you had driven to a dirt road in the woods, one you always went to when you were bored, or upset, or honestly just because you could. You ultimately came here because you wanted to get away from everyone for a little bit, only to realize you were completely out of gas and parking on the side of the road. You had absolutely zero gas left anywhere.
You would consider walking down the road until you found somewhere to go, but it was currently dark out and you knew it would be rash to walk in the middle of the woods in a short dress with no phone or car, or even a map. If only you’d just stayed home.
Your car door was locked tight, scared of what might happen if it wasn’t. You simply sat in the drivers side, sort of dumbfounded. What the hell were you gonna do? You took a deep breath in, okay, to start, let’s move to the back seat and lay down so no one sees you in the car. Then, sit and wait till someone gets you?
‘God I really dug your own grave with this one,” was all you could think. Your own mistake bounced around your head on repeat, regret filling your veins
You couldn’t help but think of Chuuya. You missed him so badly, and even if you were still a little hurt by his outburst, you would kill to just be home with him again. You couldn’t help but think of what you’d do with Chuuya once you got home. You’d hold him close, cradle his face, kiss him and feel him up.
You were distracted from your thoughts from hearing a motorcycle driving up behind you, and you couldn’t help but perk up praying it was Chuuya. You expected it to be a pipe dream, but you noticed the motorcycle slowing down, and it was definitely his. He parked it in front of your car, before walking back and you scrambled to the front seat to unlock the doors. He opened the door and placed his helmet in the back seat, barely having enough time to move his hands back before you moved yourself over the center console and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“I was so scared I was gonna have to stay the night here..”
“I’d never let that happen.”
“How did you find me anyways?”
“I remember you saying something or other about this mountain being a nice place to relax. It was just a lucky guess.”
Chuuya couldn’t help but chuckle at the way you nestled your face in his jacket, and he raked his hands through your hair. He held your head in place to help calm you down.
“Listen..I’m so sorry for what I said..it was an asshole move.” Chuuya grabbed your shoulders and pushed you back, kissing you on the cheek quickly before pulling away.
“It’s fine..just don’t do it again.” You said, looking away from him.
“Is that it?” Chuuya questioned.
“What do you mean?”
“Well..I caused all this, why forgive me right away?”
You shook your head.
“What, do you expect me to ask you to get on your knees and grovel at my feet?” You poked his cheek and looked at him with a grin.
“Well, no but..”
“Listen, Chuuya, you apologized, and that’s enough. Just make an effort to not do it again.”
Chuuya nodded, before getting a sly expression.
“Well..I should still try and say sorry for what I did, right? Should I spoil you once we get home?” Chuuya’s question had undeniable flirty undertones, and you couldn’t help but heat up at his insinuation.
“Well? Should l?”
You looked right at Chuuya.
“Of course you can. But..” you trailed off.
“What is it?”
You looked at Chuuya with a dumb look. How does he not know?
“Well my car is out of gas and I don’t really wanna leave it here overnight..”
Chuuya giggled, looking overly confident. What bullshit was he gonna stir up now?
“I think you’ve forgotten I can control gravity.”
You laughed at what he was insinuating and how proud he looked at his rebuttal.
“Alright but you better not drop my car!”
Chuuya nodded, chuckling and leading you to his motorcycle.
Luckily, Chuuya didn’t drop your car. You honestly didn’t know how he managed to hide it from everyone and drive his motorcycle at the same time, but he is a man of many talents.
Once you and Chuuya arrived at your shared penthouse, he entered the elevator and picked you up bridal style and carried you inside of your house, and once you entered the door you pushed Chuuya up against the door. Chuuya looked taken aback at your bold move, but he quickly melted into the kiss and let you wrap your arms around his waist. As much as Chuuya loved how you pressed him against the door and yourself against him, he wanted to pamper you today, and he couldn’t really do that like this. He gripped your arms and spun until you were pressed against the door instead, and he leaned back in to keep kissing your lips. He pressed his knee into your crotch while trailing down to kiss you on your neck, and settling atop your chest, kissing and licking your exposed skin.
Chuuya kept one hand on the side of your head and the other slowly crept up your shirt, until he made contact with your bra and reached behind your back to undo the bra strap. Once your bra was undone, he brought both of his hands down to lift your shirt up and over your frame. He was still kissing you, running his hands over your chest and pulling and twisting over your nipples. You gently moaned into the kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. The new position gave Chuuya more power, so he relentlessly pressed you into the wall and kissed you even deeper, reaching his hand down into your shorts to rub short circles into your clit.
You moaned louder into his mouth, and Chuuya finally decided that was enough and carried you over to the bed and sat down on it with your legs still wrapped around him. He moaned at the way you tugged on his hair when he gently bit down on your nipple.
Chuuya removed your shorts and underwear by hooking his finger on them, adoring the way you kicked them off of your legs. You reached down to unbutton his vest, and he sat up to pull his jacket and vest off in one go. He reached up and unbuttoned his white button up shirt, letting it sit on him like a jacket.
Chuuya laid back, gripping your ass and trying to push you up.
“You wanna sit on my face?”
Your eyes widened, before turning away embarrassed.
“What’s the hold up?” Chuuya asked.
“Well it’s a little embarrassing,”
“It’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
You swallowed thickly, “and every time it’s embarrassing.”
Chuuya smiled, rubbing circles into your thighs to calm you down.
“You’re so pretty, especially when your pretty cunt is all over my face.”
You would’ve been more worrisome, but ever since you got home you’d been desperate. Chuuya was so good with his tongue, you couldn’t help but fantasize and subconsciously lift yourself up and over his face.
“There you go,” Chuuya praised.
You hovered over Chuuya’s face, and Chuuya was running out of patience. He gripped your thighs to bring you closer to him, and once his tongue made contact with your cunt you saw stars. You shamelessly ground yourself onto his tongue, as Chuuya guided you back and forth on his face, rocking you back and forth. Chuuya loved the small moans that left your mouth.
“Mmnn..Chuu..”
“Hm?” Chuuya hummed from under you.
“Feels good..” you mumbled; Chuuya chuckled. He kept licking your clit to the best of his abilities, proving to be slightly difficult as you rocked yourself against his face. Chuuya loved your desperacy, but he wanted to please you himself. He felt awful about what he said to you earlier, and all he wanted was to was fuck you so good all the crying and negative thoughts swirling through your head from his unkind words would be completely forgotten, and instead replaced with pleasure. He gripped your thighs tight enough to keep you in place, using the opportunity to swirl his tongue around your clit. He loved how your thighs tightened around his head.
Chuuya was practically drooling at the taste of your cunt, small amounts of saliva dribbling around the corner of his mouth. He licked a stripe up your cunt, moaning at your taste.
“So good..” Chuuya mumbled, voice muffled by your thighs.
Chuuya reached his tongue up to your hole, licking around it before slowly pushing his tongue inside. You jumped at his actions, grinding your cunt onto his face. You feared you may hurt him if you kept at it, but the feeling was so addicting you couldn’t stop.
Chuuya’s tongue was as deep inside you as it could go, thrusting his tongue desperately. You tasted amazing, your sensitivity was alluring, you looked amazing above him.
How had he ever said those terrible things to you?
You grinding yourself into Chuuya’s mouth eventually evolved into you just riding his face. His nose swirled your clit as you humped on him, and your legs started shaking even more as you gripped the bedsheets and Chuuya’s hair. Chuuya was barely even moving his mouth at this point, as you were doing most of the work for yourself. Chuuya wanted to do all of the work, but he let it slide because he could tell how good it felt.
“Chuuya, ‘m cumming!” You yelped out. Chuuya couldn’t help but reach his hand down to touch his raging hard on. He rubbed on it, causing small whimpers to leave his mouth, the vibrations sending you over the edge and making you cum with a cry. Your cum dripped down onto his face, and he had no shame in licking it up. Still leaning over his face, he would lick your sensitive cunt while cleaning up your cum, and he would always twitch at your overstimulated cries. He couldn’t help it anymore, he shamelessly began to tug his pants down while you were still lingering above him and catching your breath. He tugged his pants and boxers down until there was just enough room for his cock, and he began pumping himself desperately.
“You taste so good..I can’t help it..” he said. His voice had a tinge of regret in it, and you could tell he was sitting in shame from what he said to you.
You lifted yourself off of Chuuya on shaky thighs, and Chuuya gripped your thighs to help you gently lift yourself off of him. You fell to Chuuya’s side, lifting yourself to lay your face next to him. You rested your hand in his hair, ruffling it.
“I’m sorry for being such an asshole earlier.” Chuuya grumbled, not towards you but himself. He still couldn’t get over how dumb he was. What was the point in insulting you? Why did he say those things? Why would he ever say anything to hurt you when you’ve never shown him anything but kindness? You’re so patient with him, he can’t even imagine why he would ever hurt you, even if it was a fit of anger.
“Don’t freak out, Chuuya. It’s fine now. I know you’re sorry.”
“Even if you forgive me, let me treat you good. Make you forget all those things I said.” Chuuya said as he turned over to you and leaned above you, towering over you with his hands on either side of your face. Chuuya currently had his pants and boxers pulled down to his mid thigh, and you giggled when his legs faltered from above you because of the lack of space. Chuuya noticed this and reddened a little bit, pulling his pants the rest of the way down. With this he took his white button up off the rest of the way, leaving himself completely naked. He straddled your hips so he could lean down and kiss and nibble on your neck, and you giggled as he prodded into your thigh.
Chuuya brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit, and you jumped at the overstimulation. He ground himself against your leg as he slowly pushed two of his fingers past your tight hole. Pulling his fingers apart to scissor and stretch you out as preparation. You felt dizzy, partially from crying in your car earlier but also from his actions. He slowly pushed a third finger inside, and you groaned at the stretch. The burn was slight, but you couldn’t even think about that as you thrust your hips up and down on his hand. His fingers were so nice. They were pretty and long and had little scars spread sporadically across them from what you presumed were past battles, leaving some spots white in comparison to the rest of his skin.
He leaned down, his chest flush with yours as he panted into your neck. He would occasionally suck on the side of your neck until it turned purple, keeping a firm grip on your hair in the process. Chuuya’s cock was throbbing, and he couldn’t help himself from grinding himself down on your thigh here and there.
“Pretty..”
Chuuya has decided that he had stretched you out plenty, so he slowly pulled his fingers out and licked them clean as you stared at him in awe. Chuuya lifted himself from your thigh, twitching at the warm feeling of your pussy as he slowly pushed himself inside. He only had the tip, but it was more than enough for him to whimper slightly. He wasn’t typically this sensitive, but after everything that happened today, he was pitifully needy. He needed to feel you around him and taste you on his tongue, and so much more. He had to make up for everything he did.
Chuuya slowly pushed himself past your tight entrance, throwing his head back as you clenched around him. It was strange to see him so needy, but it certainly wasn’t bad. It was foreign but comfortable despite it. He finally reached the hilt, and he almost immediately started pulsing and twitching inside of you. Chuuya sat there for a few moments, waiting for you to adjust, before you whined and started thrusting your hips yourself.
“Please move..Chuuya..”
Chuuya wanted to let you get comfortable, but you clearly had other plans, and who was he to deny you what you wanted? Tonight was all about you. Chuuya gripped your hips, holding you in place.
“Let me do all the work, darling.”
Chuuya slowly pulled out to the tip, snapping his hips back in place. You yelped, moving your hands up to hold his shoulders to get some sense of stability, but you ended up digging your nails into his shoulders to help ground yourself. Chuuya could feel the sting as his shoulders turned white where your nails were, but he loved it. The sting felt so good, almost deserved. Even if you didn’t do it with any malicious intent, or do it for some revenge plan, it helped him to feel somewhat even with you. Not to mention, it just felt really good.
Chuuya kept thrusting into you relentlessly. After getting some semblance of self control, he started aiming himself towards your g-spot, which he knew by heart. He knew exactly where it was and how you liked to have it touched, and once he quickly found it, he started targeting that spot without stopping. It was, for lack of a better word, overstimulating. You pulled Chuuya down towards your face, wanting to hold him close. You removed one of his hands from your hips and entangled it with your fingers, holding his hand as it rested next to your head. Chuuya loved the feeling, moving his other hand from your hip as well. He held your hands above your head, leaving you to arch your back up into him. You reached your head up just enough to make contact with his lips, and he pushed your head down into the mattress, kissing you deeply. His tongue danced along yours.
He moved his lips to barely hover over yours, moving his dominant hand down to press on your stomach.
“You like that, pretty? Like how deep you can feel me?”
You whimpered and nodded your head, moving your now free hand to tangle in his hair. Chuuya trailed his hand down to brush over your stomach and eventually your clit, rubbing circles on it. You cried into Chuuya’s mouth, the sound muffled. You moved your hand down to his back, holding him in place.
“Keep going, ‘m close..”
Chuuya kept his pace, his legs never faltering. He rubbed circles on your clit with excellency. You always wondered how he had gotten so experienced despite his lack of free time. You kept holding Chuuya in place, pulling him to lay flush with your stomach. His lips still lingered over yours, and you tightened around him and came with a loud moan. What you didn’t realize, however, was that you had squirted, drenching his entire lower abdomen in your cum. Chuuya’s eyes widened at this. Chuuya lifted himself up and looked down to where your bodies met. He smirked at the sight, and when he looked up and saw your embarrassed face he grinned, kissing your temple.
Chuuya could feel himself twitching inside of you. He was right on the edge. He was so close, and it was making him feel emotional.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I called you annoying.”
Chuuya was teetering so close to the edge, and the way you held him close only made it worse. He was feeling so many conflicted emotions, he couldn’t help it.
“I don’t know why I told you to leave me alone, I don’t know what I’d do if you really did.” Chuuya cut himself off, rubbing circles on your clit again. Overstimulated, you shut your eyes and dug them into his neck.
“You being gone for just a few hours was driving me crazy.”
You pulled your head away and brought your hand up to play with Chuuya’s hair.
“It’s alright, Chuu. I know you’re sorry. You don’t have to be mad at yourself forever.” You brushed your fingers through Chuuya’s hair, curling his hair around your finger in a perfect manner. “I’m not even mad at you anymore.” As you spoke, Chuuya was slowing down his movements and he came. You forgave him, and he could rest easy. The confirmation slowed his heart rate down, his body slowing down as well before eventually leading to a halt. He kissed your collarbones and nipples before pulling out of you. Chuuya flipped your positions so you could rest above him, burying your face in his neck as your legs intertwined. Chuuya smiled when you wrapped your arms around his neck.
He rubbed gentle circles on your hips to help soothe what he could only assume was sore, before lifting you up and carrying you to the bathroom.
“You did so good for me,” Chuuya whispered right in your ear as he carried you, placing you inside the bathtub.
“‘M sorry..” Chuuya mumbled yet again, clearly a little ashamed.
You didn’t respond, instead gripping his arm to pull him into the bath with you. Chuuya landed on top of you and you giggled. All he could have hoped for is that you’d forgive him, and it seemed like you did.
Wc - 4.3k
When Chuuya pinned reader to the wall, all I could think about was how he’d have to be on his tippy toes to kiss me bc I’m so much taller than him😭 he’s so cute :’)
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chuuyaswifeandhoe · 25 days
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If this was heaven
Pairing: Chuuya x femreader
Warnings: pure fluff
A/N: I don't have any energy to write the last part of my angst series so I'm emptying my drafts. Please enjoy this fluff I wrote sometime ago for someone special to me. It will take a very long while until I get back into writing, so please be patient.
Chuuya was exhausted. Today was hell, a mission, then paperworks, then again another mission. The only thing he wanted was to melt away on the sofa at home, with a glass of wine in front of him. But he was so tired that he only made it to the sofa and left his head on the headrest, eyes closed. He did not even know where you were. You did not greet him at the entrance as you usually do. He missed your kind smile and how you would tackle him down into a hug. He was so tired that he didn’t even have the force to call your name to see if you’re home. He sighed, if he had the option he would abandon the Mafia in an instant and run away with you. He wanted slow mornings in which he can cuddle with you, kiss away the sleep from your eyes, and just be with you for as long as he wanted too.
Chuuya was so caught up in daydreaming to a better situation for the both of you that he did not hear your little tip-toes. You were in his office, reading something for your work and just had the vague impression he came home. Founding Chuuya sprawled out on the sofa like a puppy, warmed your heart. He was probably exhausted, so you thought you should spoil him a little.
You gently touched his knees to make him aware of your presence and don’t startle him.
“ Hi, my handsome boy.” you smiled, towering over him.
He lazily raised his head up and opened his beautiful blue orbs. “Hi, my love.” Chuuya then extended one hand gently tugging you to come and sit over him, and you obliged, smiling.
You grabbed his face gently with your warm hands, stroking his cheeks. That was enough to make your boy melt.
"Tough day darling?” You smiled while looking in those ocean eyes. You could drown in them over and over again.
“You have no idea” he closed back his eyelids and turned his face to kiss the palm of your hand.
It was moments like this that kept Chuuya sane. Having you care for him almost washed away the stress accumulated through the day. Your sweet giggles were music to his ears.
“Then I might have an idea to make you forget about this ugly day. Do you trust me, my angel?” Your fingers turned his face back to face you. He let out a laugh, the pet name was definitely not the one suitable for his person, but he couldn't deny you anything in this world. Not even if you'd ask him for the sun.
“I'm all yours, doll.” he crooked a tired smile at you, closing his eyes, letting you take the lead. Your heart swole at this sight. His pretty face was at your mercy. So you started kissing every inch of it, starting with his eyelids, whispering him sweet words
“I love you”. Then you kissed the other one. “You're such an amazing boyfriend”. Then got to plaster lots of kisses on his nose “you're so handsome”, moved to the space between his eyebrows “you're my sweet boy”. Your lips left praises and kisses all over his beautiful face. His forehead was next, going down on his cheeks then his jaw, his chin then hovering over his lips. “Enjoying it, Chuu?”
Chuuya felt like he touched the gates of heaven. His cheeks were dusted pink , from being overwhelmed by the sweetness of your actions. God, how much he loved you. You had the power to take away all his worries, all the stress from every cell in his body. He felt spoiled with affection and he cherished every moment like this that you were offering him.
“You forgot one spot” he whispered, barely opening one eye. He saw your content grin before you smashed your lips on his. He put his hand on the sides of your head and kissed you like it was his last day on earth. His heart could burst out at any moment from the warmth you spread inside his body. He felt he reached the skies and was granted to enter the land of the innocents.
If this was heaven, Chuuya would do anything to rest here and never have to get back to his daily hell. If this was heaven, he'd gladly be dead and have an angel like you pampering him in kisses. If this was heaven, he was a sinner who received the mercy of the gods, kissed by a star who was casting away his sins even just for one evening.
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holylulusworld · 4 months
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Double the trouble
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Summary: Two for the price of one.
Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Mafia!Nick Fowler x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, language, betrayal, lies, secrets, kinda of stalking
Catch up here: Fool me twice
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That night you get to know the truth about your boyfriend. He and his twin brother are the head of the mob in town. In an attempt to keep you safe, they agreed to hide the fact that Bucky has a brother.
Nick took his place whenever Bucky had to attend one of their not-so-legal business meetings. In the beginning, Nick saw protecting you as his duty. He was loyal to his brother. Until. One day. He felt something else for you.
A connection. Love maybe.
He didn’t know and tried to hide his feelings from you and his brother. Every time you tried to get intimate, he found an excuse to not touch you. Nick even refused to kiss you to not betray his brother.
But this morning, he just couldn’t hold back any longer. You feel apart in his arms so sweetly, and he admitted his sin.
His brother didn’t take Nick’s betrayal well. The confession led to a fight. The first one between the brothers since they were kids.
“How could you do this to me?” You step away when Bucky tries to reach out for you. “Don’t touch me.” You visibly shudder. “I believed he’s you. He made me believe it. I sleep with a man I don’t even know.”
Bucky winces as you start to cry. “Baby doll, I’m so fucking sorry. It never was in my plans that he touched you. I almost killed Nick for touching you.”
“Y/N, I’m not a stranger to you,” Nick sounds almost hurt. “We know each other almost as long as you know Bucky. We went to that junk market, and we had dinner at that awful restaurant you wanted to try. I let you cry into my chest when after you watched this ridiculous rom-com movie.”
“Yeah!” You shake your head. “Because I believed you are Bucky. I didn’t even know your name until tonight. When we had sex, you…you kinda…” You sniffle and look away. “I feel dirty and used.”
“Y/N,” Bucky steps toward you, but you step away. “I won’t hurt your, doll. God, I would kill myself before hurting you.”
“And yet, you let your brother take your place and—” you bite your tongue. “Even if I initiated what happened this morning, he should’ve stopped me. But no. He took advantage of me, and the fact that I didn’t know it wasn’t you.”
“His face doesn’t look like that because I went easy on him,” Bucky tries to calm you but it’s no use. Anytime he gets close to you, you step away and shake your head. “I broke his face, and more than one rip. I’m not done with him yet for what he did this morning. But it’s not completely his fault. I shouldn’t have asked him to keep an eye on you.”
“Exactly,” you point out. “You’re as guilty as he is. I ended up sleeping with a stranger because you let him into my life. Bucky, how can you say that you wanted to protect me from getting hurt, but you let your brother do this to me?”
“Baby, I—” Bucky sniffs as you start to cry again. “Please. I’ll do anything. Y/N, please don’t cry.”
“Colibri,” Nick slowly steps toward you. “Hi.” He softly says as you. “Please let us explain. We never wanted things to get so complicated. It’s my fault that I fell for you so easily.”
“You make it sound like you didn’t abuse me this morning,” you snap at Nick. “Yes, I asked you to join me in the showers, but I believed you are the man I love.”
“I am the man you love,” he raises his voice and regrets it in an instant. You flinch and take a step toward the door. “We spend as much time together as you spend with Bucky. I made you laugh, and giggle. You fell asleep in my arms. I won that ugly bear for you at the fair.”
“Nick, you’re not helpful,” Bucky tries to calm his aching heart. Nick is not wrong. You got to know his brother over the months you spent with him too. “We need to calm her first.”
“I’m trying to calm her,” Nick argues. “All you did was hit me, instead of respecting the feelings I have for Y/N.”
“Well, I see this is all about the two of you,” you sneer. “I’m not needed here any longer. Whatever is wrong with you, you should get your shit figured out. And please don’t do this to another woman.”
“Doll! Wait!” Bucky gasps as you leave the room and slam the door shut. He wants to run after you, wants to chase you and bring you into his arms but he knows, he cannot face you again before he and Nick settle their score…”
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Five months later the dust settled. You left town that night, never looking back. It was hard to leave your job, home, and the town you learned to love.
But Bucky Barnes and his brother are dangerous men. Or so you heard. 
If you wanted to start a new life, far away from the men breaking your heart and betraying you, it was necessary to leave and never look back.
This is how you ended up in the sleepiest town you can imagine. 
It’s a nice one, with friendly people and not much crime. The perfect environment to start a new life, or at least get a break from your former life.
“Morning, Y/N,” Carol, the waitress at your favorite diner chirps as you sit down at the diner counter. Well, it’s the only diner in town, and the food is not too bad. “The usual.”
“You know me,” you wink at her and chuckle. “I’m a simple girl, and I love your breakfast.”
“How are the eggs?” Someone plops down on the diner stool to your right. “What can you recommend, Colibri?”
Your body goes stiff. “No…”
“Doll, is the bacon good at this diner?” Bucky plops down on the diner stool to your left. You’re trapped between the mobsters. Again.
“How’d you find me?” You sniff and look around the diner. “Why now?”
“We found you right after you left?” Nick shrugs. “Bucky decided it’s for the best to leave you alone and keep an eye on you.”
“You stalked me?” You glare at Bucky. “Seriously?”
“We kept you safe, doll. That’s a difference.”
“No. It’s not!”
“It is,” Nick winks at the waitress. “I’ll take the pancakes, eggs, and coffee. Black.”
“Like his soul,” you grunt. “Carol don’t give them anything. They won’t stay.”
“Miss, I’m having what she’s having,” Bucky says. He points at your plate, filled with all the things you wanted to eat this morning. Now you have lost your appetite.
“Why are you here?” You sigh and hide your face in the palms of your hands. “I told the last time we saw each other that I never want to see you again.”
“The last time we saw each other you sneaked out of the house and left in the dead of the night. That’s what happened.”
“Who asked you, imposer,” you glare at Nick. “I left because you both lied to me for months! I had sex with you.”
“I remember,” he dares to smirk. “You didn’t moan my brother’s name, Colibri. You called me your strong bear because I won the plushie at the fair for you. In that moment, you fucked me, not Bucky.”
“Nick don’t,” Bucky warns. “Y/N, we need to talk.” He looks around the diner. “Not here, though. Please give us a chance to explain why we cannot let you go.”
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megamindsecretlair · 5 months
Text
The King and I, Part 1
Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. This is more background than anything, so mentions of violence, violence against women, brief mentions of rape, torture, murder, slave trade, and suicidal ideation. Hopefully this will be 3 parts, will lead to smut! Ya heathens, I know what you here for LOL. And you all deserve forehead kisses.
Summary: Raised to be perfect, your father has had it with your disobedience. He marches you to the palace and throws you at the King's feet. You'd rather die than be another person's property. But the King surprises you in many ways.
Word Count: 3,533k
A/N: Couldn't get this idea out of my brain and it definitely doesn't follow the canon in the movie. AH well, LOL. I love it and that's all that matters. Hopefully, my brain continues to cooperate. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!
Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion
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Before you had a chance to be a little girl, you were coveted for your looks. How pretty you were. How nice your hair was. Paraded out in front of many odd, adult people who looked at you with strange things in their eyes. Things you were too young to understand.
As you got older, it only got worse. You were expected to sit there like a doll and let people talk over you or around you, as if you were no more than grass beneath their feet. Wind in their hair. Something always there and easily ignored.
So you made the decision to be seen. You gave opinions when they weren’t wanted. You stayed in other people’s business. You resisted and rebelled. It was nice while it lasted.
Your father made sure to curb you of such habits. But somehow, the punishments never took like they were supposed to. You continued to speak. To use the gifts the gods gave you. If they did not want you to speak, they should have taken your tongue.
At his end, your father gave up his pursuit of a wealthy match for you. “If you will not listen to me, I will give you to someone you have no choice but to obey!” Spittle flew from your father’s mouth.
As you were marched to the palace, that was the one thing you focused on. Your father was a proud man. Perhaps you had gone a step too far if he was letting spit fly from his mouth with abandon. This was the least of your concern, true, but being cast off on the newly appointed King Ghezo was too big to face head on.
People in the village watched as you were marched there, your father’s grip on your arm near bruising. His thick fingers were wrapped around your upper arm. He set a brutal pace and walked forward whether you were able to keep up or not. You stared at the people. You made them look at you.
You didn’t expect them to do anything to help you. No one ever lifted a finger to help little girls. You were many years an adult by now, but to everyone, you were still so young. Young in the ways of the world. But growing up, weren’t you taught the ways of the world? 
The powerful were in charge with no one to challenge them otherwise. While everyone else was sheep, forced to do their bidding. 
Your feet tripped over rocks in the dirt road. Your father continued marching. The palace gates were not far now. Dread started to inch its way to your heart. You had never seen the King, but you heard how your parents whispered about him. How he was both similar and different from his father and brother.
His father had been a cruel man, living in ways that your people hadn’t lived before. Surely, his son would be no different. When you learned that you were going to be given to the new king, you pictured how ugly he must be. How cruel. 
Your father was handing you over like a piece of meat. Handing his daughter over as if he had no hand in birthing you, raising you, guiding, and protecting you. Now you were nothing to him. You looked at him as he jostled you down the street. His eyes were set forward, a frown on his face.
Did he not feel anything at all? All these years you had been in his care and there wasn’t an ounce of feeling in him.
“Did you ever love me?” You asked. You were out of breath and it was said softly. Perhaps he didn’t hear you. You hoped. You didn’t really want to hear his answer. Hear that despite everything else, he did not share that love for you as you did for him all these years.
“You are an insolent child. I will make more of you. I will instill in them obedience where you had none,” he spat. 
You refused to cry. You had an idea that he didn’t truly love you. Sometimes he’d look at you with such…hate. As if you were a stubborn stain he could not remove. You thought it was because of your looks. Because it was all anyone could talk about. But even when it was just you and your mother, he would still look at you as if he could cast you out with a single look.
At the palace gates, the guards halted your father. The red doors were large, stretching high above you. Anyone who went in, never came back out. You heard whispered words about why the King would need so many women. There was talk of him eating flesh. If he sold it, was there a big stretch to eating it? 
You’d die before you got eaten. As your father argued with the guards, telling how he had a disobedient child that the King could do whatever he wanted with, you made the second biggest decision of your life. You will die before harm befell you. In whatever form that was. 
If the King forced himself on you, you’d kill him and take yourself with him. If he tried to put you in a stew, you’d make him watch as you bled all over his fancy robes. The guards finally opened the gates enough for you to peek through.
Women were engaged in combat. Your mouth dropped open at how fierce they looked. You were not allowed to look upon the Agojie when they returned from their battles beyond the walls of the kingdom. But now you dared not to look away. 
Your father pushed you forward. One of the guards caught you and you turned your head to your father. This was the most satisfied you had ever seen him. He hoped that the King did something awful to you. He was counting on it.
You straightened up behind the walls of the palace. You looked your father in the eyes and you smiled. You spat on the ground at his feet, that smile still on your face. His smile faltered, rage contorting his features. You turned your back on him and walked into the lion’s lair.
The guards handed you off one by one until a young guard escorted you to the front of the palace. In the training yard, men and women walked around with heads held high. It had never been your intention to become Agojie, but perhaps the mad King will let you once he found out how unsuitable for a wife you were. 
The thought of killing anyone made you ill, but it would be better than to be bound to someone who could have you killed with one word. 
The guard took you to the door that led to the inner palace. An Agojie met you there, a tall woman with beautiful features and sharp nails. She looked you up and down and conversed with the guard. You didn’t pay attention. You were marching to your death, what did the particulars matter? 
The woman took possession of you, leading you into the inner palace where it was women only. Everywhere you looked, there were Dahomey women walking freely. They laughed! They trained, they ran, and hugged each other without abandon. There were a few women from other tribes there, but…this sight robbed you of clear thought.
“You will catch flies if you leave your mouth open like that,” the Agojie said. 
The Agojie stalked forward, a hand on the hilt of her weapon. You briefly wondered how you could steal one unnoticed. You searched around you. There were weapons everywhere but there were so many Agojie, you doubted you’d be able to capture one. 
“What’s your name?” You asked.
“Nanisca,” the warrior said. “You’d do well to listen to whatever the King wants.” 
You didn’t need to be reminded of the King’s cruelty. It was all your father taunted you with for days as he made his decision to hand you over. You followed Nanisca to the palace proper. There, a man dressed in bright purple robes greeted you. He was bald with lots of jewelry hanging from his nose, ears, and around his neck. He looked you up and down and then rolled his eyes towards Nanisca.
“I suppose we will have this to look forward to from now on,” he said.
“As long as our King breathes air,” Nanisca said. She left you there with the man. 
“Come,” he said. You followed him, though dread made your steps wooden and your limbs frozen. You were too deep to escape now. But escape to where? Outside the kingdom, you ran the risk of slavers. Rapists. Murderous thugs who would know where you came from and kill you just for being born in the wrong tribe.
The palace was nice, almost peaceful. There was the clank of weapons outside. Grunts and sounds from the Agojie as they practiced. The palace was big but also felt empty. As if there weren’t a lot of people there.
The King must be fat then. Perhaps he ate all the servants and would-be brides. The bald man led you through to a chamber with many chairs. On a raised dais, there was a large throne and a smaller one beside. 
“Wait here,” the man said. He twirled and disappeared down the hall. You took a step forward, looking at the displayed riches and art work. If a king was cruel, did he know anything about art? Or beauty? 
“Is this necessary?” You heard mumbling and turned towards the door, ready to face the King head on. To see what kind of monster your parents have subjected you to. 
A young man walked in, with thick curled hair and light facial hair. He wore robes of gold, his robe split open revealing a well defined chest. He stood in the doorway and gazed at you as you did him.
He certainly didn’t look monstrous. You knew that evil things often came in the prettiest packages, but he was beautiful. Strong. Solid. 
He was still your new jailor, you mustn’t forget. So you stood there and looked him in the eye. You were not a victim and you will not be treated as such. 
“What is your name?” He asked. He pressed into the room further, looking you up and down with desire in his eyes. Your parents taught you well. How to spot it in others. 
You told him your name and he repeated it. As if to savor it around his tongue. He walked closer until he was within reach. Up close, he was even more handsome. You had to fight yourself from getting distracted by his looks. He was still cruel. You remembered all the horrible stories about his brother. He couldn’t be any different.
“So your father has given you away to me.” 
It wasn’t a question, but you answered anyway. “He has, my King,” you said.
“Do you wish to be given away?” He asked.
You gasped and looked at him. You looked to the bald man for help but he was turned away from the two of you. You looked back towards King Ghezo. It was the first time anyone had asked what you wished. For it to come from a king who should not care what you wanted…you weren’t sure what to do with the information.
“N-No,” you said.
King Ghezo nodded. “I wish I could make it easier for you. But you are too beautiful to be Agojie and if I turn you from this palace, you will have nowhere to go.” He reached for your hand and you snatched it from him. He smiled patiently as he held out his hand to you.
He was only pretending to be nice. A stupid, hopeful part of you had thought he wasn’t like the stories. He was worse. Still, he was correct. If he turned you away, you had nowhere to go. Once you had been here, everyone would assume the King used you and not deemed you worthy. Cast you out like a whore. You would be forced to sell your body. 
You took his hand. He gripped it lightly and smiled. He kissed the back of your hand. “Welcome, my Queen,” he said.
The next few days were a blur. King Ghezo’s first wife saw to your preparation for the wedding. The eunuch from earlier saw to your lessons, what was expected of you. No different than what your father had wanted from you. To be on your best behavior and only speak when spoken to. 
You hadn’t seen the King since then, but you caught glimpses every now and then. You were given your own quarters and servant, someone to tend to your needs. It was odd to have someone help bathe you, but the King preferred cleanliness to all else. He was vain on top of a liar.
The feast arrived in no time and you were painted up like a doll. At the wedding, you stood there as expected. If you had smiled any harder, it would have split your face in two. You had stood there like a goat on the pasture, ready to be bought and chopped up. King Ghezo studied you, encircled you, and found you acceptable. You had been tense, near trembling. You hated every second of it.
But now you are married. You sat beside King Ghezo at the high table, while he joked and laughed with his advisors. His other wife sat on your side, quiet and dull. You pitied her. The fight had left her long ago. You were still young. There was still time for you. While everyone smiled and laughed and enjoyed the feast, you hid a knife up your sleeve. It wasn’t that sharp, but it’d do the trick when the King tried to climb in your bed tonight.
You smiled in his face and feigned an innocent routine. You waited for the casual cruelty. When he would hiss for you to shut up, eat more, eat less, sit up straight. It never came. He only gave you brief glances, each always polite. A smile on those plump lips. You couldn’t shake your resolve though. Tonight, you’d be free. Whether free in death or free in life was entirely up to him. 
That night, you lay in your bed. There was a door there that led to a small balcony overlooking the rest of the kingdom. It was mostly the trees in the forest, but they were tall and mighty and more than the view you got back home. You did not spare your father a thought, but you thought of your mother. It had not been her choice to marry such a cruel man. 
It had not been your choice to marry a cruel man either. However, you felt as if you had a child, you would have moved the heavens and the earth to protect it. To not let what happened to you, happen to your own daughter. You supposed that dream was gone now. You’d either die tonight and never have a kid, or face the wrath of the kingdom and bear one without your permission. Somehow death seemed kinder. 
You did not want to die. But how could you live within these walls? With that monster? Admittedly, you did not hear any screams late in the night. His first wife seemed unbothered. Untouched. She had borne him his first son, so perhaps he left her alone. And perhaps goats flew over the moon. 
Men were only interested in one thing from a woman. And it was not her brain. 
A soft knock tore you from your musings. You tensed up, sliding your hand beneath your pillow to wrap around the handle of the knife. Maybe if you pretended to be sleep, he’d come back another night.
The door pushed open, soft feet padded inside, and the door closed again. You lay on your side, turned towards the open balcony. If you screamed, would no one come to your aid? 
“Are you awake?” King Ghezo’s soft voice reached you. You didn’t answer. Your breaths were stalled in your chest. Your hand cramped from holding the knife too hard. 
The King poked at your shoulder before making you roll over. “I know you are not…”
You sat up and had the knife at his throat in one fell swoop. The King’s eyes widened, but he looked at you, not the knife.
“Will you kill me, my Queen?” He asked. 
You pressed the knife into his skin, hard enough to know you meant business but careful not to break the skin. You were already committing treason, but somehow, it was important not to mar the king. 
He stared at you. Those deep brown eyes set in such a handsome face. You looked for the cruel man you heard about. Where was he? You could harm a cruel man. They deserved it tenfold. Why wasn’t he making this easy on you?
“I don’t want to,” you finally admitted. “I have to.”
“Why?” 
What did he mean, why? “Aren’t you angry?” 
“Angry at a scared woman who has no one on her side? No,” he said. He was so calm, so patient. This was at odds with everything you built up about him in your head.
“Don’t pity me,” you said. You pushed the knife in deeper. 
He leaned away and held his hands up. “I do not pity you. I will not pretend to know your life. But I can promise that you’re safe here,” he said.
You scoffed. “I’m not safe anywhere,” you said. You pressed your lips together. That hadn’t been what you meant to say. You meant to throw it back on him, that he could not promise safety when he dealt in the slave trade. When he looked at his people and only saw money from white devils. 
His eyes softened and he slowly smiled. “No man intact can enter this palace. Beyond that, we are protected by the fiercest warriors in the world. Beyond them, there is a first legion still to defend this palace from enemies. Here in the heart of it, you are the safest you’ve ever been.” 
“But who will keep me safe from you?” 
King Ghezo leaned forward, making you choose between cutting him or retreating. You eased up on the pressure. “You can do a finer job protecting yourself than most women can,” he said.
You stared at him. Your arm began to shake from holding the knife for so long. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t kill him. You were weak and would never be accepted as an Agojie. You would never fare well beyond these walls. 
You dropped the knife on the bed and held out your wrists. “I’m ready for my punishment, my King,” you said.
King Ghezo let out a long breath. You noticed now that he wore a deep, royal purple that highlighted his rich, dark skin. He wore minimal jewelry. He was just that magnificent on his own. Especially when the candle light flickered across his features.
“Punishment?” 
“I’ve threatened the King. I am ready for whatever punishment you hand out,” you said.
The King ignored the knife on the bed between you. It was within his right to take it and kill you. Or take it as evidence of your deceit. He could brand it for all to see as he threw you out of the palace. 
He did none of those things. He reached out his hand slowly and enclosed yours in his. You stared at your hands in comparison to his. He watched you as he brought your hands to his lips and placed a small kiss there.
“Plot how next you’ll kill me. If I have not convinced you of my intentions, of my character by then, you may carry through,” he said.
“What? No, no!” You said. You pulled your hands back but he held on. He pulled you closer until your hands were pressed against his warm, smooth chest. 
“Keep the knife, my Queen. This will be interesting between us,” he said.
This was surely a trap. A way for him to play and toy with you while he tightened the noose about your neck. Or gathered wood to burn you alive. Or for the Agojie to sharpen their swords to take your head with it.
“My King…”
“One day, I wish for you to call me your love,” he said. “But I will earn it or die trying.” A cocky grin spread across his face. It transformed him from a king to a man. A man who you were married to, sitting on your bed, with intentions involving you. 
He placed one more kiss on your hands and then retreated from the room. He never gave you his back, but he did smile and bow. Then he was gone from your room. A chill from outside caressed your bare skin and you shivered.
Was the king truly mad? Or were you? And why did he make you want to find out which?
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Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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