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floswife · 4 months

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SORE LOSER - T.N X READER

Pairing: Theodore Nott x reader

Summary: Theodore and Y/n learn how to better focus their hate for each other

Warnings: SMUT, oral, dubcon..?

Author’s notes: this is my first time writing smut so I honestly apologise for how inevitably bad this will be 💀

Y/n didn’t know what it was about seeing the anger flash before Theo’s eyes when she’d taunt him, but it honestly was her main motivation when competing against him.

Like now in this quidditch match as she threw the quaffle threw the goal hoops once more, she had to turn to look at Theo for a split second just for the sake of rubbing salt into the wound. She would like to lie and say she was ashamed of her pettiness but what’s the point in that?

She had been out to get him ever since he made her cauldron explode in potions, which prompted Snape to hate her even more than he usually did with Gryffindors. Which was quite a feat, she wasn’t on a Harry Potter level of hatred but on the other hand Snape didn’t have a perpetual hard on for her mother either so that probably helped her too.

In hindsight it was a petty reason to name someone your sworn enemy, but his smug smile when he saw her turn to glare at him was enough to set her eleven year old brain off. Plus she just really liked being a hater for no reason.

After successfully winning the game she went over to Theo who was leaning against the wall, looking like a kicked puppy, she couldn’t lie, seeing him like that really did numbers on her but she wasn’t about to let that get in the way of her favourite thing to do with Theo, gloat.

“How does it feel to lose yet again, Nott?” She called out cheerily, the broad grin he loved hated so much painted across her face.

He groaned in annoyance at the sound of her voice, “leave me alone, l/n, I’m not in the mood.”

He had always been a sore loser, she laughed in amusement “or what? I’m sorry but the last I checked you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Theo glared at her as she stood in front of him, both of them still in their quidditch uniforms, he towered over her but she did well to push that thought to the back of her mind as she had been doing ever since he annoyingly hit a growth spurt in third year. She remembered how ranted about it to her friends later on, pretending to ignore her friends knowing smirks as she’d feel a rosy blush rise to her cheeks every time she had to crane her neck to meet his cold gaze.

“Why do you always have to be such a brat?” He sneered at the girl.

“Oh I’m the brat? I’m not the one sulking like a child because I lost a match.” Y/n’s continuous retorts just made him snap.

He grabbed her wrist and yanked her to follow after him, practically dragging her, and took her under the quidditch stands.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She rubbed her wrist in annoyance at his harsh grip.

“I’m gonna teach you how to shut up.” He pushed her down to her knees and she looked up at him in shock, she looked forward and saw the prominent tent in his trousers, “now be a good girl and listen to me for once.” His voice was slightly whiny as he said that, like he was begging her.

Y/n gulped, really beginning to question her morals, but all her internal monologue silenced when he unzipped his trousers and freed his member from its constraints with a throaty groan, wetness pooled between her legs at the sound and just the sight of his pretty cock. Merlin he was big.

He rubbed the tip along her lips, the salty taste of his precum invaded her tastebuds.

“Open your mouth and put that mouth to good use.” He demanded, she did as she was told and tentatively kitten licked the tip, he threw his head back in satisfaction and let out a whimper? She then wrapped her mouth around his tip and sucked.

He moaned her name out even louder, making her moan around his cock at the sound, she took as much of him down her throat as possible, she gagged when he hit the back of her throat but she powered through, bobbing her head up and down and using her hand to pump at the parts of his shaft that couldn’t fit in her mouth.

“Fuck! Just like that. Taking me so well.”

He was groaning loudly, and she suddenly gained awareness that they weren’t exactly in the most private of places, she tried to pull away to tell him to shut up but he just wrapped a hand in her hair and pushed her back down, he began thrusting his hips and fucked her mouth, tears ran down her cheeks and saliva dribbled out the corners of her mouth as he used her as he pleased. The thought of how blatantly he was using her as just an object couldn’t help but arouse her.

“Being such a good girl for me.”

He held her head down on his cock and she struggled to breath, he twitched before releasing down her throat, he pulled out and tapped her cheek, “swallow.”

He tucked himself away and she got up and stuck out her tongue to show him she swallowed.

He now smirked, “it wasn’t that hard to listen now was it?”

Y/n was still in a haze as she tried to compose herself and have the decency to at least pretend to be embarrassed and tried to pull away but he firmly placed his hands on her hips and pulled her right back against him again, “Shut up, Nott.”

He raised his brows teasingly and she couldn’t help but grow frustrated at how he had switched the tables on her so quickly when she was so clearly set up for a win.

“That’s not how someone who just had my cock down my throat should be speaking, now is it?” His voice was mocking, condescending.

She get that familiar heat pool between her thighs once more and she remained speechless, he smirked.

“Such a shame, you were gonna get a reward for being such a good girl.”

She tried to gain her composure as she scoffed, “like I’d want it.” She really did want it

He leaned in, that stupid lazy smirk on his lips again, “so you’re not soaked right now?”

Her eyes widened and he then inched his hand from her hip to under her waistband, as soon as his fingers touched her wetness that had completely soaked through her panties she moaned lightly, her eyes rolling back at the contact she was yearning this whole time.

“Theo!” She gasped.

He pulled his fingers away just as quickly as it came he pulled his finger and he brought it to his lips to suck her juices clean from it and he hummed, “so sweet.. on second thought, let’s continue this tonight, room of requirements?”

“What-“

And just like that he left her there, needy for his touch.

She really did hate him.

But he was so hot.

Looks like she had plans for the night.

Part two?

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cherry-leclerc · 6 months

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thinking of her ☆ cl16

genre: angst, marriage trope

word count: 1.8k

You and Charles take a visit to marriage counseling.

inspired by this !

req!... had some free time to write so thought i would work on a request i just got! short one, but i hope you enjoy :)

“Tell me why you’re both here.”

The room is silent and slightly cold. A large canvas hangs right in front of you as you take time to pretend you care about the family painted on it. Part of you actually does.

“Well, she thought it would be a good idea to drag us into this.”

Your eyes flicker to Charles and you would only hope that he could tell that you weren’t impressed by his answer. It was true, it was your idea to go to couple’s counseling, but only because you cared. You cared a lot. Sometimes you thought for sure he didn’t anymore.

“Honey, tell me what made you decide this.”

You wanted to burst with anger. To prove to her that this wasn’t completely your fault. He wasn’t perfect, he tested your patience and despite it all, you still loved him enough to try and salvage your marriage.

Your therapist stares back, pen ready to scribble possible solutions as if her words would really matter. Maybe, deep down, you didn’t like being here either, but you wanted to prove to Charles how he’s been a shit husband.

You wanted someone to back you up.

Taking a deep breath, you play with your wedding band. The one that you would normally admire, but now it just felt like pure suffocation. “He’s given me plenty of reasons to not trust him the way I once did and now I sit here like a fool thinking he might change.”

The way her pen glides is something you hate.

Looking back up at you both she takes a moment to analyze the couple. Charles sits with a blank expression, as if he really did have somewhere better to be. In his mind, he did. Then, there was you. Regardless of your words pouring with pure vexation, your body language displayed something else.

Your eyes were sad and tired. She easily noticed the way your hand would want to reach out to Charles, but would quickly grip tighter to your lap.

“Please, if you don’t mind, would you care to explain.”

You press your lips together. “I first noticed a difference 2 years into our marriage.”

“Chicken or fish?”

It was Charles’ day off from work in a long time and you were currently on a call with Pascale trying to figure out what to surprise him with. He always raved about how much he loved what you cooked for him.

“Fish. You guys were just here yesterday and I made grilled chicken, remember?”

You hum as you get into your car and start driving to the market. The conversation is cut short when you finally reach your destination. Walking through the aisle you decide it would be a fine idea to grab some wine you both love.

“Charles?” The brunette looks up, red wine in his hand, as you smile a bit confused. “What are you doing here? I thought you were playing padel with Lorenzo.”

“I was! Finished the game early and thought I would grab us some wine for later.” He gets closer as he kisses you and takes the kart from you. “Shopping for dinner?” You nod.

“Thought it’d be nice…” You look at the bottle and yes it’s red, but it's not the kind you both like. “Honey, you got the wrong one.” A panicked look flashes his face before he lets out a nervous laugh. Of course! I’ll change it right now.

“It only took a couple more slip ups for me to find out.”

The therapist nods as her attention turns to Charles, where he plays with his bracelets. “And what made you stay?” You want to laugh. Are we just going to spend time on me? She shakes her head. “We’ll get to him, I just want to hear from you first.”

“After I confronted him he swore he’d stop seeing her. I guess it was my fault for even believing him.”

“Amour!”

He runs into the living room, kitchen, basement, everywhere. Breathing hard he looks around the house as if the furniture will give up and tell him where you are. A loud thud echoes from upstairs. Two steps at a time, he darts up quickly into your bedroom. His heart stops when he sees you packing a suitcase. What are you doing?

You don’t answer. Don’t even spare a passing glance. Instead you slip the gold band off your finger as you throw it behind you. It only falls a few steps in front of him. He picks it up as he makes his way to you. “I’m so sorry.”

Your back faces him, but you don’t dare make a single sound. You curl your hand against the dress you were folding, bite hard on your lip to not let out a single sob. But your chest hurts, your tears feel like acid against your skin and you’re almost thankful for pain like that, that way what Charles did wouldn’t be the only thing that hurt.

He makes his way to kneel down in front of you as you stare down at the carpet. You had begged him only a few days ago to put down the deposit on it and for a while he said it wouldn’t be financially responsible, but later agreed. You hated the carpet now.

“Why? Just why?”

He’s far too embarrassed to even come up with an answer. “...I don’t know.”

When you finally look up at him he sees what he’s caused. Your eyes are bloodshot as your nose is rosy. Cheeks are so bright pink, it almost looked as if someone pinched them.

You let out a wet laugh as you drop your hands against your lap. “You know, when I woke up this morning and you were gone I thought to myself, ‘Wow. What did I do to deserve a husband who wakes up early enough to get me breakfast on my birthday?’ And I waited. And waited. But whatever! That’s fine! He probably got busy. Then Pascale called to confirm if we were still going out for dinner, to which I said, ‘Yes! Of course!...Yes, the gold bracelet! It was beautiful, thank you for helping him pick it out.’ I thought it was sweet, I did, but you never came. And again, the presents are not what mattered, but it was you. I texted you. I called you. I told myself you were probably too busy planning something sweet the way you always did. They all asked where you were and I had to lie and tell them you were going to be late. Do you know how stupid I felt when I saw you and her enter the restaurant holding hands? And then what did I do? I purposefully had you see me run out so you could chase after me, so that your family would never find out about your…fling.”

Charles keeps bowing his head lower and lower almost as if to hide from his mistakes.

“...So where’s my bracelet, huh? Because you got it for me for my birthday, right?” Extending your hand out hurts because you know deep down it was never for you.

“I don’t have it…” You click your tongue as you retract your arm. Of course you don’t, you seethe. With all your strength, you stand with wobbly knees as you start to walk away.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

And he should feel relieved, but instead he feels like a complete asshole. How could he ruin things with his wife who swore to love him with all her being? He knew you well enough to know that you always will and he couldn’t let that go. He would fix this.

He runs to the door to close it. Move, you spit out. He shakes his head as he hugs you.

“S-stop,” you say in a shaky voice as warm tears begin to flow once more. “It’s okay, just let me go…”

You go stiff when you realize he’s crying into your neck. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…He just keeps repeating it and you can’t stop yourself from hugging him back. He loved you and you loved him. That’s all that mattered.

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“So he cheated: you forgave him. He put her first and your marriage second.”

You flinch at her words because they only remind you how true they are. For a while, you thought you could both get over it, but you never really did. Not when you were already both standing on opposite sides of the road.

“Mom always did say I always saw the best in people.”

“And you…” Charles gulps. “What made you fall into an affair?”

Months ago, when you first found out, he didn’t have any answer to that question. But he did now.

“I wasn’t smart enough to appreciate my wife.” He looks at you as you avoid eye contact because you know the moment you looked into his eyes, you would fall all over again.

But you still did.

His eyes are sorry, you could tell, and the way his hand makes his way to you is enough for you to grow warm despite the cold room.

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes - I know that - but none of them could compare to what I did to us. For putting you through so much doubt…For making you think I didn’t love you, but I always did.”

You're crying now as you nod because this is all you ever needed to hear.

“If this was the bump in the road that we had to overcome to grow closer then I accept it because I love you too, Charles. It’s about time you realized that.”

Charles feels lighter, happier. Now that he gets to hold your hand after many fights, he’s reminded about all the things he loves about you. But nothing could have prepared him for you to let go of his hand.

“I want a divorce.”

He’s stunned. W-what? We just decided that we were fine, that we were moving on…

You shake your head as you laugh. “My apologies, God, did I make you believe a lie? Feels awful, doesn’t it?”

He furrows his brows as he tries to reach out for you but you keep stepping further back. “Back there you almost had me…You said, ‘...none of them would compare to what I did to us.’ Us. Did you suffer? Did you spend countless, empty nights, crying yourself to sleep wondering what you did wrong? No, because it was all me. It wasn’t what you did to us, it's what you did to me.” You spin your ring one last time before slipping it off and placing it in his hand. He wants to say something to make you change your mind, to oversee his past mistakes one more time, because he swore to himself it would be the last time. But he could tell you’ve made up your mind. You twist your heel, ready to walk away before taking one last look into his green eyes you once loved.

“And the baby is getting my last name.”

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

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I could be a better boyfriend —

Vox x Reader ,, 1.1k Words

summary — Reader yells at Valentino for being an asshole to Vox, spiraling them into an argument that eventually causes feelings to come out.

warnings — angst-ish, Vox and Val being the worst, toxic relationships, mild sexual tension

a/n — I had a great time writing this, to be honest. Hope I didn’t make Vox seem to innocent. Just to clarify he’s also the worst and a manipulator, he’s just the worst and a manipulated who’s desperate for validation and deserves better.

“Um, what the fuck was that?” Vox spat at you, after leading you into a different room.

The two of you were in Val’s porn studio. You, only to see Vox, and Vox because, well, who knows why he would go to that god awful place unprompted.

You didn’t want to start a fight with Val, but it was so easy when you saw how he treated people. Especially Vox. It got under your skin, how they affected each other.

It was so embarrassingly apparent to everyone that they were dysfunctional, and all Val did was stress Vox out with his useless bitching and overall toxic attitude

“I know, he’s such a snobby dick. I can’t believe you hang around with that guy—“ You turn to face him and realize it wasn’t Val he was talking about.

Your chest swelled when a deep gust of anger overtook you. Not necessarily at Vox, but at his inability to understand how the situation escalated.

It started with normal flirting between the two, normal, obnoxious, terribly disgusting attempts at flirting. The word ‘attempt’ is used because calling it ‘flirting’ implies there were any undertones of romance.

However, unsurprisingly considering the current company, there was none. Val spoke only from his dick, and it was agonizing to watch.

Especially after the two inevitably started arguing because that’s what happens when they’re in each others company for too long.

“Oh, come on, Vox. I’m the problem here?” You scoff and nod to the other room.

“Well, you did try to start a fight with a powerful overlord who’s, oh yeah, right, also my boyfriend,” Vox shouted, screen glitching out slightly.

Still, you didn’t see error in your ways. You considered yourself a level-headed person, so when you lost your shit it really meant something.

And, oh, it really did this time.

It was almost impossible to remember what Val had been bitching about on this ever-so joyous occasion. Something about Vox being in his space and crowding his area. ‘Fucking up his concentration,’ or something.

Of course, Vox fired back, and then Valentino, and so on. You almost rolled your eyes and left when Valentino had rose from his directors chair and started yelling at Vox like he had just committed the worst form of betrayal ever.

This time though, you could tell some of Valentinos words had gotten to Vox because, just for a second, his anger flickered into despair. It wasn’t noticeable, you were sure no one else picked up on it. After all, Vox would rather die than show vulnerability in front of a room full of pornstars.

But before Vox had a chance to fire back, you had stepped in. Your face scrunched up recalling the moment.

“Vox, I was looking out for you, jesus christ. God forbid I help a friend stand up to his shitty, awful boyfriend,” your hands fly up in the air mockingly as you recount the events in your head.

You didn’t remember exactly what you said, just that you went off. You do, however remember leaving the studio speechless after your outburst.

And Vox having to drag you away, with you still yelling at Val, in order to prevent a physical fight. That’s how you ended up here; a break room in a porn studio, being reprimanded for attempting to be a good friend. How tragic.

“What makes you think you need to look out for me? I am well aware of Val’s—” he searched for the word, “—quirks. It’s nothing I can’t handle on my own, like I have been doing for the past decade, you asshole.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it on your own,” you reasoned, voice still harsh and cold, “Maybe, if you were dating someone better—“

“Oh? Like who? Who would possibly ever—“

“Me, you fucking dumbass,” You yelled in a moment of thoughtless impulse.

That shut him up fast. Whatever argument he was cooking up slowly faded away into a blank stare.

The silence lasted too long.

“What— what are you saying?” Vox inquired, quieter than before. His eyes searched yours, desperately wanting you to explain yourself.

“You deserve someone who would treat you better, Vox. Someone, well, preferably me.” You finish, stepping towards him.

“I could treat you better, so much better. And hell, if not me, please just choose anyone but Valentino. I can’t—“ You try to grab his hand but he steps back.

“How?” He looks at you, trying to stay composed but silently pleading with you for an answer.

“How, what?”

“How would you treat me better?”

You simply look at him. His performative walls were slowly coming down. Or at least they will, depending on how you answer.

Still, you stay quiet for too long.

“Well, I wouldn’t yell at you for just being around me,” You try, but continue after realizing it wasn’t enough, “I’d listen to you, actually listen. Not just complain and expect unconditional comfort or support.”

That sparked his interest so you keep going.

“I’d make you coffee when you work late, black, just how you like it. Oh, and I wouldn’t forget our anniversary, thats…fucked. I’d let you lean on my shoulder when you were tired and— and I’d take care of you when you bite off more than you could chew, work wise. I wouldn’t yell at you. Not too much, anyways. I’d compliment you and praise you, tell you how proud of you I am.”

You had inched closer and closer to him during this speech, until your bodies were practically pressed together.

His usual facade was almost completely gone, he looked needy, no desperate, miserably craving something from you. He didn’t know if he wanted to be fucked stupid, or hugged until he fell asleep.

“Well, I…” He tried, but unfortunately Vox’s charismatic demeanor wasn’t helping him here, “…I wasn’t aware you felt that way.”

Your hands fell on his cheeks, or more accurately where they would be, and caressed them gently.

His eyes fluttered shut out how gentle you were. His hands subconsciously flew to your hips to brace himself when he leaned in to kiss you.

You kissed back, harder, as if you’ve been waiting forever. Which, it felt like you had. His hands drifted up to pull you in by your shirt collar, deepening the kiss, as yours fell to rest on his chest. Eventually, they went you his back and pulled him closer to you than before.

The kiss was tender, sweet, but hungry and depraved. When you finally broke, neither of you spoke for a long time, still breathing heavily, foreheads almost pushed together.

“Why didn’t we—“ Vox panted, “—why didn’t we do that before?”

You laugh weakly. “So, what’s it gonna be?” You ask, “Me or Valentino?”

a/n — Probably gonna be the last fic of the night. I am SO tired. So sadly no railing Vox fic, like I hoped.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel fluff #vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox

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mrswint3rs · 3 months

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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐟𝟏𝟒𝟏 + 𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 ❦

(fem reader)

Cw- manhandling, marking, unprotected sex, oral sex, subby konig, daddy kink (Price), use of pet names, face fucking, size difference, CNC (Ghost) ❦

𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐣𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐬 ❤︎︎

After a shit day, you’re the one thing he has to look forward to. He’ll take his anger out on you in whatever way he sees fit, knowing you’ll let him.

His hand tangles in your hair, pinning you down to whatever surface is nearby. Wall, bed, floor, doesn’t matter to him. As long as you writhe beneath him.

He loves hitting you, marking you just to see your face contort. And he absolutely can’t stand it when you pay visits to the other men. He knows he can’t own you, instead he’ll fuck you til’ the only thing you remember is his name, as well as the rest of the force since you’re so loud.

“Take it, conejito” he groans, stuffing your cunt over and over again despite practically shooting blanks. “This pussy belongs to me. Molded to fit me. Only I can make you shake like this, eh?”

𝐊𝐨̈𝐧𝐢𝐠 ❤︎︎

He just likes to please you in general. Seeing you satisfied is what pleases him and he’ll drop to his knees in an instant. You’re in charge. (most of the time)

“Does that feel good, mein schatz?” he asks, mouth completely buried in your cunt. His face is a complete mess and he’s lapping up everything you offer like a starved puppy.

Hearing your whimpers and moans caused by him makes him go absolutely crazy. He’ll stroke himself through his cargos, tip leaking through the fabric. He doesn’t really care that much about getting himself off, it just feels good.

Either way, he does. When you suffocate him with your thighs, exclaim how good he’s doing, it completely breaks him into a whiney mess. He cums in his pants, not bothering to whip it out. You’re his focus, practically his goddess.

He’ll sit in it until you’re completely satisfied, til you can’t handle another orgasm.

𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 ❤︎︎

He has a bit of a daddy kink. (don’t ask me why i think this. i just know.)

He loves missionary, simply because he gets to look into your teary eyes, watch your pretty tits bounce in delay from his thrusts. The way you hold eye contact makes him weak. Your eyes say so much about how his cock is making you feel.

“Cum for daddy, princess.” he urges, slamming into your sloppy pussy in repetition. “Hear how wet you are? All for your daddy, isn’t it.”

His calloused thumb circles your little nub, making you tighten and twitch as you near your end. “Cum for me,” he repeats softly to you.

“Make daddy’s cock a mess.”

𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞 ’𝐆𝐚𝐳’ 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 ❤︎︎

He just loves using your mouth. But he’s gentle with it.

He slips just the tip past your lips, letting you take it at your own pace. He hates making you feel uncomfortable.

“Easy, baby.” he croons, peering down at you with concern as you try to take him deeper. He doesn’t know where to put his hands so he plays with your hair.

Your tongue traces his length as you sink further down while your hand corkscrews the remainder and milking out his load into your mouth.

“You’re too good at that…” he moans out, struggling to catch his breath.

𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 ’��𝐨𝐚𝐩’ 𝐌𝐚𝐜𝐓𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐡 ❤︎︎

Also likes using your mouth except he’s rougher. He’ll stand towering over you as you’re on your back, head hung level with his waist.

He’ll hold a hand to your neck, feeling where his cock reaches. He loves watching you struggling not to choke on it. Boosts his ego.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Just like that.” he rolls his hips, jabbing in and out of your throat with no mercy, using you like a fleshlight.

He rapidly thrusts until you tap out. He wasn’t mean, of course he stopped when you needed a break. He sits you up for a minute to let you catch your breath and he’ll wait until you’re ready for him again.

𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 ❤︎︎

Has a major size kink.

He’ll fuck the life out of your smaller form, making you cry and beg for mercy. He loves it when you can hardly handle him.

“This is what you’re made for, love.” he says, girth stretching your poor hole to fit him. He’s so much bigger and stronger than you, it’s so easy to force you into submission.

He traps you underneath his heavy weight, holding you down while you squirm. “C’mon take it for me. Quit fussin’.” he says sternly as if frustrated. But you both know it’s just for show.

You make him feel so good it’s unreal. He just likes to watch you try to wriggle away from him when you know can’t.

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amentomensmut · 3 months

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first time for everything pt2

Drug Dealer! Mike Schmidt x fem!reader wc: 5k

this is part 2 to my fic first time for everything! read the first part here.

Summary: After an unforgettable hookup with your friend Sara’s drug dealer, Mike Schmidt, you go to a college party to try and put a stop to your constant stream of thoughts about it, and more specifically, him. However, when you wind up bumping into the man you had been thinking about non-stop at the party, you can’t help but give in to the one person who started it all.

Warnings: 18+ content, so much banter. Like, so much. Mike is a smug bastard, alcohol consumption, swearing, kissing, dirty talk, use of pet names, fingering, cunnilingus, finger sucking, unprotected sex

Note: we are so back. also i really hope you guys like this omg. (p.s. sorry that this part has no cannabis use in it. I know that’s like kinda the whole point, but with the story i wanted to tell i couldn’t find a place to put it and i didn’t just want to shove it in randomly so i sorta just left it out.)

Like smoke filling up your lungs, Mike Schmidt has infiltrated your mind in every way possible.

Thoughts of him invading every corner and crevice of your brain, making them impossible to shake. To say the least, ever since you had the pleasure of meeting him, your mind has been rather occupied.

His lips on yours, the smoke from his mouth permeating your own, his hands on your body, your skin on his skin—it's all too much, you think. In fact, if you could go back and erase the entire interaction, you would. It’s the only thing you’ve been able to think about, and it’s all Mike Schmidt’s fault.

You wonder if he thinks about you too. You know it’s probably unlikely, but you can’t help but feel like he might. Like he also dreams about it. Like he also yearns for you again. Maybe he gets off thinking about it, like you do. You shake those thoughts away, however, when you come to the conclusion that it probably wasn’t as special to him as it was to you.

"Okay, Y/n, what the fuck?” Sara's voice cuts through your thoughts, startling you.

You whip your head around to see Sara standing behind you. Her arms are crossed against her chest, and her face is painted with a worried expression.

“What?” you respond, confusion evident in your voice.

“You’ve been staring at that wall for 20 minutes.” Sara says it with an accusatory tone, like she caught you doing something you shouldn’t be.

“I’m just thinking.” You shrug, trying to play it cool. I mean, you’re not lying. You were trying to do your homework, and then you started…daydreaming. Thinking. Whatever you want to call it.

“Yeah, I know. Thinking is all you’ve been doing this week. What’s going on?” Sara sighs, and you can see the genuine concern in her face. She sits on your bed next to your desk, trying to meet your eyes. You have a hard time lying to her, and catching her gaze will only make you more vulnerable, so instead, you choose to stare down at your homework.

“This isn’t like you. You’re the most studious person I know, and you can’t even focus enough to finish a couple questions. Tell me what’s going on.” She continues. You weigh your options. You could tell her you fucked her drug dealer. She couldn’t be that mad, right? Or, you could keep it a secret, but continuing to lie to her is the last thing you want to do. You let out a deep breath and just decide to bite the bullet.

“Okay, um, remember when I went to your drug dealer's house last week?” You wearily start. Sara nods her head, signalling for you to continue.

“Well, one thing led to another, and we kinda, sorta had…sex?” The room is silent after your confession, the weight of your words hanging in the air. When you look over at Sara, you expect to see disappointment or anger on her face, but instead, she's looking at you with one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen.

“I knew it!” Sara exclaims, jumping up in a rush of excitement.

“I knew there was a reason that you were practically glowing when you got back from his house!” You groan at her loudness, putting your hands over your face to hide your embarrassment. You should’ve known she wouldn’t have been upset with you; she practically shoves you at any man who gives you some sort of attention in the hopes that you’ll break your introverted habits. “Wait,” she excitedly adds. “Does this mean you can get me a discount?”

“No, Sara, I can’t fucking get you a discount. I haven’t seen him since it happened.” You say, and you try your best to mask the disappointment in your tone. I mean, what did you expect? That he’d come running to you the next day, get down on one knee, and propose? You knew it would most likely be a one time thing, so why were you so upset about it?

“So that’s why you’ve been so out of it this week. Plagued by the thoughts of a good fuck. Trust me, I've been there. ” Sara sighs dramatically, shaking her head like she knows this feeling all too well.

“I don’t know... as cheesy as it sounds, I sort of can’t stop thinking about him? It was so good, and now it’s all I think about.” You admit, and Sara takes her place back on the end of your bed. She takes one of your hands in hers, and she nods her head in an understanding manner.

“You know what you need?” She says, and you shake your head, "No.".

“To get your head out of your chemistry books and go to a goddam party! No wonder you’ve been thinking about him; all you’ve been doing is thinking.” She says, motioning to the copious amounts of school-related papers on your desk.

“Trust me, Y/n. The best sort of remedy for this kind of thing is to just let loose and forget about all your shit for a little while, you know?” As much as you’ve tried to avoid parties and distractions during your college experience, you can’t imagine there’d be much harm in going to one party. Besides, if you can get your mind off of Mike for a few hours and just have some fun, it’ll be worth it.

“Alright. Yeah, I think you’re right.” You say, and Sara jumps up excitedly as she begins to talk about one of her good friends that is throwing a party that night, and that it’ll be the perfect excuse to get away from all stress of exams. You nod along, a smile plastered on your face as you try to match Saras excitement. You’re not quite sure if this “remedy” will work or not; however, you’d just about try anything at this point. And like Sara always says, you’re a hermit, so this will be a good way to break you out of your shell. I mean, the last time Sara told you to do something, it ended up going better than expected, so what’s the worst that could happen?

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“Sara, I feel like I’m going to flash someone.” You say as you pull on the hem of your very mini skirt. The walk to the party wasn’t long, but your bare legs are cold and you’re itching to get warm. You’ve never really worn something as revealing as this, but Sara insisted you wear something from her wardrobe.

“Your skirt isn’t that short; don’t be dramatic.” Sara teases as she leads you towards a house that's booming with both music and people. You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous. You haven’t been to a party during your time at college, and to be honest, you weren’t ever planning to. Focusing on getting your degree without any distractions was always your goal. An unrealistic goal? Maybe, but it had been working well for you up until a week ago. However, things don’t always go as planned, and now you’re stepping into a house full of sweaty, inebriated bodies and music so loud it makes the entire house shake. The air is thick and humid, and you’d get lost in the house’s dim lighting if it weren’t for Sara’s hand in yours guiding you through the sea of bodies. Your shoes stick to the floor as you walk through the house, and you know alcohol drunkenly spilled from overflowing, cheap solo cups is the culprit. Sara drags you to the kitchen, where all the alcohol is stashed.

“We should do a shot! To commemorate the first party of your college career!” Sara yells over the music, already pouring each of you a shot of tequila. You give a little laugh at Sara’s enthusiasm, and you nod your head in agreement. As you wait for Sara to hand you your drink, you notice just how many people there are. You watch through the kitchen window as someone throws up on the lawn. You wince a little at the sight and at the thought of how much alcohol they probably drank. You briefly wonder if going to this party was even a good idea, but you try to shake away any negative thoughts.

“Babe, you’re thinking too much again.” Sara says, waving her hand in front of your face as she passes you the shot.

“Sorry!” You half-yell, but Sara dismisses your apology with a wave of her hand.

“Don’t be sorry, just have fun!” Sara replies as she effortlessly downs her shot. You also attempt down your tequila; however, it’s not as effortless, and you grimace at the sharp taste of the tequila on your tongue. It takes everything in you to swallow it without gagging, and you wish you had something to chase it with.

“Fuck, that’s awful.” You groan as you pull a face. You don’t typically drink alcohol, and when you do, tequila is certainly not your first choice. Sara laughs and places a hand on your shoulder.

“That’s what makes it good!”

The next hour or so goes by pretty smoothly. You’ve essentially been following Sara around like a lost puppy, accompanying her as she greets her friends, which feels like just about everyone at this party. You watch as Sara effortlessly navigates the room, her laughter ringing out above the chatter and deafening music. As you stand alongside Sara, watching as she converses with a group of people you recognise as being on the school's soccer team, you feel a wave of insecurity wash over you, like an invisible barrier separating you from everyone else. You feel out of place at this party, and in a way you are. You haven’t been to a party in your three years at school, and now you've realised that you barely know anyone around here. You haven’t seen one familiar face, other than Sara, in the past hour and a half since you arrived here. You begin to wonder how different your college experience would be if you just got over your fear of people and parties, and went out like Sara had. You try to dismiss your destructive thoughts, but it’s no use. You feel like somehow everyone knows that you’re not really supposed to be here, and it makes your throat feel dry with anxiety.

“Hey, Sara, I’m going to get something to drink. Do you want anything?” You loudly whisper in her ear, trying not to interrupt the conversation she was currently in. You’re anxiously wanting to get away from the crowd, and your body language shamelessly shows it as you bounce your leg and bite the skin off your lips.

“No, I’m okay,” Sara says, and you watch as her eyes survey your body, her eyebrows knitting together. “Do you need me to come with you?” She bends down to speak in your ear, although her words are slightly slurred, and you softly giggle at the way her alcohol intake has affected her speech.

“No, I’ll be okay.” You assure her as you walk away from the group, giving Sara a little wave as you make your way to the kitchen.

You had intended on getting a drink, but when you got to the kitchen and saw the door to the backyard, your desire to escape the muggy, stale air landed you on the back patio instead. Your lungs thank you for the fresh air as soon as you step outside, and the cool winter breeze feels refreshing on your sweaty skin. There’s still plenty of partygoers outside, but it’s certainly not as packed as it was inside. You watch as people play beer pong on a ping pong table on the lawn, and the sight only solidifies your fear of missing out. The sound of hearty laughter and the smell of weed only make you want to go home more, and you sigh as you push off the patio railing to leave. You turn around to make your way back inside when you see him.

At first, you thought it was your eyes playing tricks on you. Like you had been thinking about him so much that an apparition of him was here to taunt you. Like your thoughts of him for the past week had now turned you delusional. However, his eyes lock with yours, and now you so badly want it to be a hallucination, or your mind playing tricks on you. Dread washes over you and you wish you had never come to this party. You want the ground to swallow you whole when you see him beginning to walk towards you, and for a split second, you consider running away.

You mean for your words to come out nicely; you truly do. However, they don’t come out that way, and instead you say this:

“What the fuck are you doing here?” If your words shock or hurt Mike, he doesn’t show it as he now stands in front of you with that goddamn smirk on his face.

“I have a business to run, Y/n. But you’d know a thing or two about that, wouldn’t you?” You’re not sure if you want to kiss or slap him, but you roll your eyes anyway at his smug tone. He gives an unbothered laugh at your attitude and actually, you’d definitely rather slap him right now.

“Your business is selling weed to intoxicated college students?” You retort with a scoff, crossing your arms against your chest like it’s a defence mechanism. You hate that his presence is making you jittery, but you hold your ground, your eyes never veering away from his.

“Funnily enough, they’re my top customers.” Mike smugly says, and you don’t even try to hide the scowl on your face. You squint your eyes at him, trying to read his intentions. He smells like weed and spicy cologne, and it immediately brings you back to his house, and more specifically, his living room. There's a pregnant pause between the two of you, and before you can work up the courage to say something, he speaks again.

“Cute outfit, by the way. Have you dropped the innocent act yet?” He asks, obviously satisfied with his words. He's clearly trying to get under your skin, and you won't let him.

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” You fib, shrugging your shoulders like the question is irrelevant. If he's going to try to tease you about your hookup, you won't feed into it.

“You know, after that night, I don’t think you can really call yourself a good girl. You’d be lying to everyone. You're lying to me right now.”

“Fuck you, Mike.”

“You should come by my house tomorrow. You're probably all out of the weed I sold to you last time you were around, right?” He says nonchalantly, changing the subject. You furrow your eyebrows at the change of conversation, and your stubbornness to let Mike have any satisfaction during this conversation doesn’t falter.

“I don't smoke weed.” You quip.

“Lie all you’d like, Y/n. It doesn’t change the truth.” He says, brushing a stray hair out of your face before walking back into the house without giving you another look.

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Usually people use the phrase “walk of shame” when you’re walking home from a hookup, however, that phrase pretty much sums up how you feel as you walk up Mike Schmidt's driveway.

You’re not sure how you’ve ended up back on Mike Schmidtd’s doorstep again. Maybe it was the satisfying sting of weed going down your throat and into your lungs, or the insatiable hunger for the man who supplied it to you. Either way, the front door is being opened and the man who you’ve been thinking about non stop for the past week is behind it.

“Had a feeling you’d be back.” He says with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, and you’re high before any weed has even entered your system.

“Don’t cream your pants.” You mutter as you push past him and walk inside. You would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t know why you were here, you both knew. After Mike left you at the party, you knew you were completely and utterly fucked. That any other attempts of trying to forget him would be worthless. That like a bee to a flower, you’d be back here, in Mike’s house, searching for the one thing you had been denying yourself for the past week.

“So I was right then, you’re all out of weed.” He says as he closes the front door. You take your jacket and scarf off, hanging them on the coat hanger at the door. You face Mike, who's currently leaning against the front door, watching you.

“Can I have a soda?” You ask, and Mike cracks a smile at the familiarity of the situation.

“I would’ve offered, but I wasn’t sure how long you’d be here.” He says, trying to bite back his smile. You follow him to the kitchen, watching as he grabs two cans of soda. Your fingers brush as he hands you the cold can, and you look up at him as he clears his throat.

“So…an eighth again?” He inquires, looking at you over his can of soda as he takes a sip.

“Mike, I’m not here for your goddamn weed.” You laugh. Mike laughs as well, and the exuberant sound is like music to your ears.

“So you came for my soda instead?” Mike teases, and you shake your head with a smile.

“I think you know why I’m here.” You say, and your cheeks heat up at the thought of what happened last time you were in his house. Your fingers tighten around the soda can at the thought of touching Mike again, and you so badly want to reach out for him.

“I’m not sure if you deserve it. You weren’t very nice to me last night at the party.” He smirks, crossing his arms against his chest and leaning against the kitchen counter. He places his soda can on the kitchen counter and tilts his head at you, waiting for your rebuttal.

“I was nice enough.” You simper, shrugging your shoulders. If he’s going to make you work for it, you’ll play along.

“Say please. I can’t believe I have to teach you how to use your manners.” He coos, and you huff when you realise you won’t get what you want right away.

“I'm very polite.” You stubbornly stand your ground, but you can feel your resolve weakening with every word that comes out of Mike's mouth.

“You might be polite, but apparently you forgot how to ask for things.”

“Please, Mike.”

His lips are on yours as soon as the words leave your mouth. All the build up from the past week, all the sexual tension between you and Mike is released into the kiss. The kiss is frantic and needy, like even being this close isn’t enough. His want for you shows in the way his rough hands grab any part of your body they can reach. You blindly slide your soda can on the kitchen counter before threading your fingers through his hair, softly pulling at the root making him moan into your mouth. He tastes like cream soda and weed and his hands caressing your body send a shiver up your spine, and you haven’t felt this way since the last time he touched you.

“You have no idea how much I've been thinking about you.” He says in a gruff voice as he walks you backwards and lifts you up onto the kitchen counter. You spread your legs so he can slot himself between them, and he presses soft kisses into your neck. His hands are on your waist, stabilising you as he kneads the soft skin there.

“I thought you might’ve forgotten about me.” You shyly admit, and he softly bites your neck, almost scolding you for your words.

“Are you serious?” He asks incredulously, removing his head from your neck to look at you. His heavy lidded gaze makes you feel nervous, and his reaction makes you feel like you said something you shouldn’t have. Your silence serves as an answer to his question and he shakes his head at you disapprovingly as he slowly gets on his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact. You suck in a quick breath at the sight of Mike in between your legs, and an involuntary whine escapes from your lips when he begins to undo the button of your pants.

“Y/n, the only thing i’ve been able to think about is you.” He groans, and you lift your hips off the counter to help Mike as he pulls your pants down over your ass. Your pants hit the floor and Mike is pressing open mouthed kisses into the insides of your plush thighs. He takes his time, kissing and sucking on the expanse of your thighs, and you think you might go crazy if he continues to tease you. Your thighs slightly close around Mike’s head, looking for any friction you can get. Mike lets out a laugh and you throw your head back in frustration.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there something you’d like?” Mike innocently asks, looking up at you as his mouth gets dangerously close to your pantie clad pussy. A sadistic smile paints his face and you put your hands in Mike's hair, trying to pull him closer to the place you need him the most.

“Mike, stop fucking teasing.” You pant, and a dissatisfied sigh leaves Mike's lips.

“I thought we talked about using your manners.” He mocks, and although he's the one on his knees in front of you, that doesn’t change the fact that he’s certainly still in control.

“Please, Mike. Please, I need you.” You beg, and not long after, Mike is licking a hot stripe up your covered cunt. You bite your bottom lip, your chest heaving as Mike continues to press messy, open mouthed kisses to the wet spot on your panties. His grip on your thighs is strong, and the feeling of his blunt nails digging into the soft skin makes your head spin. Soon enough, his thick fingers are hooking into your underwear and pulling it down your legs. He wastes no time, quickly latching his lips to your swollen clit and making out with your pussy like a man starved. Your jaw drops in pleasure, and your hand tugging at his hair makes him moan into you.

“Mike, h-holy shit.” You cry out, as he enters one of his long fingers into you. His tongue swirls around your clit as he pumps his finger in and out of you, and the sounds of him eating your pussy are absolutely sinful. Mike replaces his tongue with his thumb, rubbing your clit in slow circles as he slowly enters another finger into you.

“You’re so tight.” He mutters, and his eyes are glued on your soaked cunt and the way it sucks his fingers in. He begins pumping his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace, curling them upwards, hitting a spot that makes you jerk your hips upward.

“M-Mike, I’m gonna-” You start, but cut yourself off with a moan as Mike reattaches hip lips to your clit. With his fingers rapidly moving in and out of you, and his mouth doing god's work on your clit, you swear you’re starting to hear colours. Your thighs begin to shake as you start to grind yourself on Mike's face as you near your orgasm. You let out a loud moan as you finally release, the only thing you can feel is the pure pleasure surging through your body as you cum, and Mike coaxing you through it. Your breathing is heavy as you come down from your high. Mike removes his fingers and mouth from your pussy, pressing a final kiss to your clit before he stands back up in front of you.

“Open your mouth.” He softly demands, and you do, letting Mike shove his cum covered fingers into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around the digits, humming as he lets his fingers travel to the back of your throat, making you gag. “That's it.” He praises, caressing your cheek as you suck his fingers. He removes his hand from your mouth and places them on your hips, helping you off the counter. He turns you around so you’re facing away from him, and he presses a hand to the centre of your back, bending you over the counter. He presses himself into you, and pushes your ass back against his covered erection. Mike leans over you, wrapping a hand around your throat to pull you up against his chest as he brings his lips to your ear.

“How could I forget about you when you look like a fucking angel when you cum.” He confesses in your ear, bucking his hips against you as he releases you, letting you fall back over the counter. The sound of him undoing his belt and pants makes you involuntarily clench your legs together, and you turn your head, watching as Mike spits in his hand and strokes himself a couple times before lining himself up with your pussy.

“Have you been thinking about this?” Mike taunts, teasing the head of his cock up and down your slit.

“You have no idea.” You whine, pushing your hips back in an attempt to just get Mike to fuck you. However, Mike holds your hips steady, restraining you from grinding back on him.

“Enlighten me, then.” Mike responds, like he has all the time in the world. But to you, it feels like the end of the world with the way your pussy is throbbing and in need of stimulation. A defeated sob leaves your lips at Mike’s teasing,

“All the fucking time, Mike. I felt like I was going crazy.” You babble, and your words seem to be good enough for Mike, because he’s filling you up with his thick cock. All your thoughts, any worries you’ve had over the past week are gone. The only thing you can focus on is the way he fits perfectly inside you, and the way the grunts and groans leaving his lips sound like perfect melodies to your ears. His hips snap into yours roughly, and you know you’ll be sore tomorrow.

“I couldn’t get high without thinking about you. You fucking ruined weed for me.” Mike admits with a laugh, like the whole thing is preposterous. His fingers work quick circles on your clit and you shiver as Mike places a hand under your jaw, lifting you so he can press kisses into your neck.

“Good. Maybe you’ll smoke it less. It’s bad for your lungs.” You breathily tease, and Mike sucks a particularly dark spot into your neck in response to your words. Mike continues his rough pace, and you clench hard around him.

“Gonna cum.” You whine and Mike only continues to fuck you, wanting to get you there. You cum for the second time, your body jerking as the overwhelming sensation hits you. Mike holds your shaky body up as he cums inside of you, letting out a strained “fuck” as his own orgasm washes over him. You both stand there afterwards, catching your breath as Mike release slowly begins to leak out of you and down your thighs.

“Did I seriously ruin weed for you?” You hoarsely ask in a disbelieving voice. You feel Mike’s chest rumble as he laughs, and actually, you think his laugh is the most perfect sounding melody.

“Trust me, It’s embarrassing to admit.” He says, and you let out a quick breath as he pulls out of you. He grabs a cloth out of a kitchen drawer and runs it under warm water in the sink before cleaning up the cum between your legs. He tucks himself back into his boxers before pulling his pants up, and you follow suit.

“Maybe I’m rubbing off on you.” You jest as you button your pants.

“Maybe.” Mike says with a smile, and when you look at him, you think you wouldn’t even need weed to get high. You’d just need this feeling.

taglist: @slutf0rmilfs, @angie-likes-to-art, @spenciesprincess, @janitorhutcherson, @leahdhopkins4321, @pickingchoosinglovinghope, @esebabe, @under-sedationnn, @celestbarnes, @brechdan-ham, @souldzaboj, @t0byisher3, @rottingpeache, @joshs-big-toe, @p3talll

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson smut #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #smut #fnafmovie #fnaf

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yanderenightmare · 9 months

Note

idk if you write for naoya but i have an idea...maybe darling is like maki but actually weak and naoya bullies and takes advantage of them?

love your work btw!! <3

JJK ! IMAGINE

Zenin Naoya x maid ! darling

TW: yandere, mentions of abuse, bullying

Proposal Gift

Sharp hazel eyes follow you in your innocence, narrowing while he judges – concluding once again, as he’d done before, that there really isn’t a single cursed bone in you – only a humble body of warm squeezable flesh and a heart he bets is all too easy to break.

You’ve always been like that. Quick to smile and quick to cry. A bundle of emotions unfit to be raised in such a ruthless clan.

He’s a few years older than you and remembers well what a weak constitution you’ve always had. Anyone could see it, and everyone knew it from the moment you were born – you were never going to amount to much.

He used to find your weakness quite disgusting – used to push your face into the gravel until snot and tears would wet the dirt in a pitiful puddle – with his foot pressed down between your shoulder blades – sometimes until hearing a pop and shriek loud enough to echo off the walls. With words cutting even deeper – telling you what a curse you were, born so weak and so useless – a stain on the great Zenin name.

But now that you’ve grown up, he bites his tongue – silently watching with a strange type of lusty entitlement forming in his gut…

He’s only been away on a mission for a handful of months – who’d have known he’d come back to see you grown into something so… precious.

You’re the prettiest out of the maids – the cutest one too, and undoubtedly the sweetest as well. Walking about the garden where you have most of your chores – watering plants in the sun and picking herbs for healing. You’re quiet and graceful, taking slow steps in your plank shoes that knock softly on the tiles where you peacefully wade through the maze in a pretty flower-patterned yukata.

You look nothing like the snot-nosed brat he’d left in the dirt. You have a swell of breasts now and a feminine face wiped clean of soot – painted with pretty red on your lips and fresh blue on your eyes.

You’re a lady now.

And while your weakness used to disgust him, he’s now realizing what a blessing it is instead. Smirking the more he glares at you – now sitting on a bench in the shade doing some hand stitching, knowing no ill will – he understands he’s quite lucky you turned out such a fragile little thing.

“Naoya-sama-” You spluttered, eyes widening into big round glass orbs.

Jumping to your feet, you nearly threw your needlework down on the bench before folding your fingers together and bowing – much lower than necessary – with a rush that could only be excused with fear.

You hadn’t known he was back yet and felt the surprise like a vice grip wrapped tight around your throat.

Swallowing thickly, you made your excuse while maintaining your bow, praying he’d show you mercy. “Pardon my lack of awareness- I was absorbed in my chores, you see- please forgive me-”

He folded his hands within his pants and raised his chin with a smirk at your spluttering, licking his teeth in enjoyment at your pretty display of courtesy. Eyeing you for a long moment before speaking, mainly to watch you begin to tremble in the wait – cutely dreading the bite of his punishment.

But punishing you wasn't what he was interested in at the moment.

“You’re not in maid robes.” He said instead, ignoring your previous stuttering. His face, jaded with a tone just as callous, aided by that weighty air of authority he always has surrounding him – the one that never fails to make your skin feel raw in the cold.

“Oh-” You fumbled, halting at his lack of anger – wary of the unexpected behavior as it was pretty odd for him not to jump at the opportunity to punish someone like you if and when the chance presented itself.

Though, it wasn’t yet decided he wouldn’t do just that – the way his steely and strangling presence nearly knocked you over with its vicious intensity alone – staring you down sharply with that otherwise smooth hazel.

In return, you had your doe-eyes yielding and down-cast, eying your fabrics with a bite to your lip – trying to keep your voice from shivering while uttering the next line, heat in your cheeks while at it. “These are- uhm- proposal gifts I’ve been asked to wear.”

He snorted at that, and you flinched at the abrasive sound – eyes shifty while eyeing the ground, lowering your head some more, looking down at the paint on your toenails instead.

“From whom?” He asked a beat later.

Your brows pinched at his curiosity and how awfully unlike him it was. Naoya-sama had never struck you as the type to make trivial conversation, especially with the likes of you.

“I’m- uhm- not exactly sure…” You confessed, twiddling your fingers. “You see, Father doesn’t want to confuse me- after all… it’ll be his decision in the end, anyway.”

You kept your head bowed while explaining, feeling awkward before him. Trying to think of a time when he’d paid any type of regard to you or your life – remembering none.

“B- but my marital status must be of no interest to you, Naoya-sama.” You blurted then, finding it to be a rather strange matter to discuss with him of all people.

But all the man responded with was a slight hum, keeping his gaze on you and the way you timidly glanced up at him only to look away when seeing him stare back.

Ears burning, you chewed and sucked your lip under his glare, thinking of how badly you’d witness him beating other maids – having needed to treat many a cut and gash and bruise and broken bone he’d left on bodies much smaller than himself – not to mention the ones on your own frail self he’d given you in your youth.

“Please excuse my arrogance-” Your memory prompted you to gush. “Doing anything but welcome you home from your mission is rude of me- I heard you lead our clan into many victories- you must be very proud.”

You decided to try you r luck charming him instead, hoping it could sway him from the urge to hurt you.

“Or maybe it doesn’t come as a surprise anymore. You’ve always been rather strong, after all.” You continued but choked on it only a second later – spurring with yet another apology on your lips. “That was thoughtless of me to say- you should feel proud either way- please forgive me for my stupid words, Naoya-sama- I fear the heat has gone to my head and made a complete airhead out of me…”

But despite the obvious hints of regret and panic in your draining face, the man gave no indication of even having heard what you’d said until offering your ramble another rather unusually relaxed response.

“It’s true.” He agreed – much to your surprise, where you’d braced your face for a backhand and your stomach for a gut punch. “It’s become boring.”

You dared glance up at him through the lashes of your bow – only to see his face still as expressionless as always – a type of stone-cold that made the hairs at your nape rise.

“Still… you must be tired from the trip, if not the mission” You softly started in spite of it – hoping to end the conversation soon. “You shouldn’t stay out here in the sun for too long…” You tried, praying he couldn’t see straight through your intentions. “And- uhm- I should really hurry along- help prep supper for you and your soldiers with the other maids.” You excused, once again bowing your head, waiting for his nod of dismissal – ever relieved when he gave it.

You swallowed your tremors, feeling lightheaded and dizzy while offering up whatever type of smile you could muster.

“It was good seeing you, Naoya-sama.” You lied. “Welcome home.”

You bowed yet again, dismissing yourself before turning and leaving him.

He kept his eyes fixed on you despite it. Observing the distressed spring in your step and how it disturbed the former peace you walked the gardens with earlier.

A smile inched up his face watching it.

You look very nice in his proposal gift.

He looks forward to having you in his bed.

tip-jar: Kofi

#yandere naoya zenin #yandere zenin #yandere zenin naoya #yandere naoya #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #naoya zenin #naoya x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #yander naoya zenin #zenin naoya

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am-i-interrupting · 1 month

Text

Affection | Vox x Fem!Reader

Summary: Vox and Valentino get into it. Vox looks for a way to get payback and stumbles upon you. He didn’t expect you to actually care.

Warnings: sex work, a bit of a mommy kink

He was used to the petty yelling, the constant spats, even the object throwing. What crossed the line was when he had to replace his screen.

Vox and Valentino got into a lot of arguments, normally started by the latter instead of the former. This one was bad though. Vox didn’t even want to think about it but it was all that was on his mind.

He was angry.

He was angry because it was easier to be angry rather than something else, something more vulnerable. He didn’t want to and couldn’t afford to be vulnerable right now. He had to hold onto this anger so he didn’t go crawling back to Valentino.

Currently, he was at his desk, looking through documents about ads that were just waiting for Vox’s stamp of approval. He stumbled upon yours and he paused.

He recognized you. Why?

He copied your name into a search bar and looked at your Sinstagram profile. Flipping through the pictures, he found one of you at a bar and that’s when he remembered.

Valentino tried to contract you and you’d basically laughed at him. You’d tossed back a shot and then turned to Valentino, asking if he needed you to pay for it since he was clearly so desperate for new recruits as he was only preying on people too stupidly drunk to realize how bad of an idea it was to say yes. Oh, he remembered Valentino seething that night.

He approved your ad but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He opened the closed tag again as he actually read through your ad.

You were advertising music. Which, when say side by side with your Sinstagram made sense as he saw a picture of you with Verosika Mayday. There wasn’t really anything interesting on the advert.

He scrolled up to the top of your Sinstagram in order to look at them in order from most to least relevant. That is when he caught sight of a link in your bio. He clicked it.

He was brought to a website. He wasn’t sure what he expected but he did raise an eyebrow nonetheless. It was an escort sight. A home page that had you and several other people scantily dressed with a description of what every person and the services you offered.

Maybe he was being more vindictive than he thought because he immediately clicked on the tab that sent him to your page and booked a time with you.

It was far out, months away in fact. He honestly had forgotten about it until he got an email the week before asking if he was still available and inviting him to a pre-session consultation. Not willing to back out and have it potentially mess with his image, he made the time.

He logged into a video call several days later and was greeted with you in the middle of putting on your makeup.

“Well, hello, Mr. Vox,” you said with a soft purr. He replied with a formal greeting of your name. “You’re a busy guy and I’m a busy gal so I’ll keep this quick. This is just a little meeting for boundaries. I know it bothers some people to make them in person so I’ve found this to be an easier way.

“I’ll go first. No hickies, no bruises, no scratches, no cuts, no burns, just no marks. It might be pretty and fun in the moment but it costs me later. Not everyone enjoys having sex with someone who’s clearly had it with someone else not long before. It may be part of my work but people do like an illusion.

“I don’t do bondage where I’m the one tied up. It’s nothing personal, just a safety issue. On the topic of safety, if you bring in anything that could be used as a weapon. I’m done and you’re leaving. All I need from you is that pretty little body of yours and payment. I’ll provide the rest.

“On the topic of payment, I know you’ve already made your upfront payments for this little consultation. The rest can be brought when you come in cash. Any questions so far?”

He surprised himself by saying, “Not so far, no.”

You we’re far more thorough than he thought. He’d bought time before but it was never this professionally done, even by Valentino’s standards. Granted, with Valentino’s sex workers, there was really only one rule, payment upfront. He didn’t give a fuck about anything else.

You though? You had clearly given this a lot of thought on all parts.

“Good, I’m glad,” you said. “Those are my hard rules. Everything else is a little more flexible. So, tell me, what is it you want from tonight?”

“To have a good time.”

“Of course, we all want to have a good time, Vox, but I’m talking specifics. Don’t be naive,” you said. “I have full confidence you know better. Maybe it’d be easier if I told you what I’m best at.”

The lid of your lipstick clicked closed. You looked at the camera, looking at him directly on his screen by proxy, for the first time.

“I can do just about anything your cold, dead heart desires but I enjoy specific things more than others. I’m a bit of a dominatrix, I’d you will. I enjoy the power and control of giving people what they need instead of what they want. How does that sound to you?”

“It sounds to me like a very overlord thing to do,” he replied.

“Not there yet,” you said. “So, is that the role you prefer to play?”

“It’s one I play often.”

“Yes, I’ve gathered that but do you prefer it?”

Vox didn’t know why he didn’t just say yes. He should have. It went with his image to say yes and that’s why he was still agreeing to do this even though he and Valentino weren’t on the worst of terms right now.

He hadn’t crawled back to Valentino yet. It’d been one of their longer spells away from one another. Five months without even falling back into bed once.

Perhaps that’s why he said what he said. He was pent up. He hadn’t had time to unwind and the person he normally would go to for that he was still upset with. That’s the reason he’d go with anyway.

“It’s the role I play most often,” he said.

“But is it the role you like?” you asked. When he didn’t answer you smiled, a more genuine one than any flirty or sarcastic one you’d shot his way before. “Stubborn, I’ll keep that noted.”

“I am not—“

“You’re proving my point. Now,” you stood up and rummaged through a drawer he couldn’t see, “pick a set for me.”

For the next several hours, Vox felt like he couldn’t focus. He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been nervous over a one night stand.

He left early, leaving his assistant with double the workload but he didn’t care. He just needed to be out of the building.

He took Vark out on a walk to pass time but it still went by so slowly. It took what felt like days for it to finally be time to leave.

He’d call it considerate that he left without his usual suit jacket, waistcoat, and tie but in reality, he felt so hot, constricted with them on.

He traveled through the cameras and arrived at the address he’d been given, not a single person having seen him.

He knocked on the door and that sense of security was promptly shattered when it opened and he heard someone say, “Holy shit!” in response to seeing him.

He glared at the offending person as he stepped in. He recognized them from being pictured on your website. They quickly spun around and continued doing whatever it was they were in the process of.

He was led to a room which when opened revealed you inside. You were wearing a shear robe that gave him a peak at what was hiding underneath.

“I was promised secrecy,” he said. “Not to be gawked at by the employees.”

“So you don’t want to be gawked at me?” you asked. You smiled at your own joke. “Everyone here is under contracted lock and key to not say a single word about what goes on inside these walls. You’re image will be fine.”

“Contracted?”

“You said I had the makings of an overlord,” you replied. “Why are you suddenly surprised that I have contracts? Don’t worry, I assure you they’re much more ethically sourced than your co-worker’s.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Speaking of,” you said as you took several steps towards him, “why are you here? I’d imagine you could have any of Valentino’s contracted cash free. Why waste it on me? I’m not exactly cheap.”

You held out your hand and he reached into a pocket to retrieve the other part of your payment. You swiftly began counting it.

“You fuck one of Valentino’s pets, you’ve fucked them all,” he said. “They’re all too scared to be any fun after a while.”

“As much as I know that’s a true statement—“ you put the cash in a drawer of the bedside table— “I don’t believe it.”

He felt his eye twitch. “And what exactly would you—“

“Why don’t you take off your shirt and lay on the bed?” You walked towards him and ran your hands up his torso. “Or I could take it off for you.”

You began unbuttoning his shirt and for some reason, it made him drop all his irritation. When you finished, you bent down and licked all the way up his torso. You kissed and nipped at his collar bone.

His hands went to your sides but you spatted them away. The shirt fell to the ground.

You looked up at him, like you were daring him to kiss you. However, when he went to do just that, you stepped away.

“On the bed face down, mister,” you told him.

He huffed. Despite his mind telling him to grab you and pull you in for a kiss, take you and remind you of who exactly you were messing with, his body followed your instructions.

The mattress dipped as you straddled him. Something popped open (he tensed), a bottle clinked as it was set on the table, and then the sound of you rubbing your hands together went through the air.

Your hands, warm against his skin and slick with oil, began to rub up and down his back.

“Why are you here, Vox?” you asked. “I’m not stupid. I keep up with the news. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that the day you made an appointment was the same day you updated your status to single again? It’s still single now so what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he said.

“Uh-huh, and the fact that you visibly tensed as soon as I mentioned Valentino is just a coincidence,” you said. “Everything you say in these walls stays within them.”

“You’re the one who made the contracts,” he said. “You’re not under them.”

“True, but—“

You began to apply pressure with your thumb, grinding your thumb and hand in circles along his back.

“Oh, fuck.”

“—I also made them,” you said, basically repeating his words. “It means I place value in confidentiality.”

“Or covering you’re own— oh, fuck, right there— your own ass.”

“I could be.”

You leaned down and he felt toy trap his entire torso beneath you. He liked the feeling. He liked the feeling of you over him.

You got close to his face, “But I think we both know I’m not.” You moved back and he mourned the feeling as soon as it was gone. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You’re just very obviously tense and not just physically.”

You punctuated your sentence by rolling the palm of your hand at the base of his neck before squeezing it lightly. He couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeling of some tension leaving his body.

You continued on like that in silence for a while. You were working out the knots in his muscles and he was basically putty beneath your hands.

He’d never been treated like this before. He had couldn’t remember the last time he felt loose. There was always some kind of feeling of unease he constantly carried.

He didn’t even know he needed this because he’d never known that he could have it.

You leaned to once again lay over him but this time he could feel the entire weight of your body instead of just your warmth. You wrapped your arms underneath his shoulders and placed a kiss to his neck.

“Are you alright to continue?” you asked him as you nuzzled against his shoulder blade.

“I—“ He tried to search for some witty or snarky remark to make but all he could come up with was, “Yes.”

You cooed at him and slipped your hands out from underneath him to rub his back as you got off him. “Using your words, what a good boy,” you said and he hated, hated how that made him feel so warm inside. “Can you turn around for me? Yes, good.”

He closed his eyes and refused to look at you. You laughed but it didn’t feel mean. That didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed, however.

You did a wider, full handed version of the back massage you’d given him to his front as you began to roll your hips against his. He couldn’t hold back a whine.

“Oh, so pretty,” you said. “Such pretty noises from such a pretty boy.”

“Fuck,” it came out weak and pathetic.

Well, it was fitting then because that’s how he felt, weak and pathetic. Such simply praise shouldn’t be so effective.

“How does that feel?” you asked. “Come on, be a good boy. Tell me. Tell me how to make you feel good, baby.”

You were kissing on his neck and shoulders now.

“Good,” he choked out.

You hummed against his skin.

He could feel his fingers flex. His arms moved. He stopped them. He wanted to touch. He should be able to touch. He should be able to do what he wanted. He was the fucking Vox, overlord and creator of the biggest tech company in Hell. He shouldn’t need permission to do something.

You grabbed his hands and brought them up to the knot of your robe.

“You can touch me, baby,” you told him.

A whine forced its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to keep it at bay.

He opened his eyes and you were so beautiful, grinding against him like you were made to. He could feel his cock straining against his pants. He wanted them off.

He settled for untying your robe. It fell to reveal the deep blue set he’d chosen for you earlier that day. It was sheer enough to show off your nipples through the cross crossed pattern of the bra. There was a silver chain that draped between the cups and further framed your breasts. Some traps went around your torso as part of the garter belt which held up your similarly colored stockings. You looked gorgeous.

You laughed and guided his hands up to your waist. Then up to your tits.

“I love the way you keeping whining for me,” you said. “You’re like a little pup.” Your eyes honed on his neck and your hand followed your gaze. You pressed on his neck, just enough to add some pressure. “That neck of yours looks like it was made to be collared and leashed.”

“Oh fuck.”

You leaned closer to his face. “Would you like that, baby?”

His fingers twitched around your breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over your clothes nipples as a silent apology. “Please.”

“Oh, such good manners.” You applied more pressure to his neck, not enough to cut off his air supply. He arched into your touch. “But not tonight. Some other time, I promise. I’ve got a feeling I’ll be seeing you plenty, baby.”

You went to nip at his neck. His hands wrapped around to your back to hold you in place. Your own traveled down his torso and to his belt.

You undid it. You pulled down his pants but not his underwear. You slipped from his grasp.

You put your hands on either side of his bulge and ran your fingers over it. His legs spread open further as he tried to push up but you quickly put an end to that little action.

Your hands on his hips, you hovered your head over him. You licked a stripe onto the fabric. You began to suck him off with the barrier of his boxers.

He knew he was whining. His eyes wanted to screw shut but he kept them open, too transfixed by the visage before him.

Your own eyes were closed. Your hands, perfectly constraining his boxers, were wrapped around his hips. The tips of your perfectly manicured hands were digging into his skin. Your tongue lulled out and lavished him.

He could cum from just this alone.

However, as soon as the thought came to him, you pulled away.

“No, no, no, please, please, let me come,” he said, words flowing from his mouth before he could stop them.

“Aw,” you said with a chuckle, “begging so soon? How sweet. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to come soon. I’ve just got to see that little dick of yours first.”

The small bit of degradation mixed with all the praise made him twitch.

He’d never gotten any negative comments on his dick before. Rather the opposite, Valentino had tried several times before to talk him into at least faceless camera work but he didn’t want to think of the moth right now.

You pulled his underwear down to reveal his cock. It was length, a deep blue like the rest of him except were it was flushed vibrantly at the tip. He was already leaking pre-come. Milky white against his flesh.

You leaned over to lick it up. His eyes rolled back at the simple action.

Your smirked before you took him all your mouth at once. You slowly pulled up and let your teeth pull at the hood of his tip.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

He thrusted up into what was now just air as he twitched, his whole body convulsing but he didn’t come. He was on the verge though.

You shushed him as you stroked his inner thigh with your nails.

“Be a good boy for me and hand me the lube,” you said before you began sucking on the skin above his pelvic bone.

His hand went to your hair as he closed his eyes and moaned. It took him a moment to open them again but you didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel rushed.

When was the last time he hadn’t felt rushed while having sex? He couldn’t even remember. It was always about getting back to work as soon as possible or Valentino’s quick hits. It was never really about him. It was about getting rid of his boner or Valentino’s as soon as possible.

He liked this. He liked this feeling of. . . being cared for?

God, he was so fucking pathetic. He could feel tears filling his eyes as he reached for the lube on the bedside table.

“Are you alright, baby?” you asked. “Do you need to stop.”

“Fuck, please don’t.”

“Okay, we don’t have to stop. We can keep on going,” you said as you poured some lube into your hands. “You just keep on being a good boy for me, alright? You can cry if you need to, baby. It’s okay to cry, you know.”

That permission made it worse. He felt his face flush as tears began to stream down his face. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He shouldn’t be crying. He’d rarely ever cried. Much less during sex, especially sex that he was enjoying.

“Can you bend your— oh, such a good boy,” you said.

You hooked his bent knees over your legs and pulled him into your lap.

You wrapped your hands, covered in warm lube (when was the last time someone had took the time to warm up lube before touching him?), around his cock and began slowly twisting your hands up and down. He couldn’t stop the weak thrusts.

“I’m sorry,” he said, repeating the phrase like a prayer.

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay,” you told him, petting his thigh. “You take what you need. You’ve been so good for me. So good. You deserve it.”

“Fuck.”

He threw his head back against the pillow and then looked down at you. He immediately met your eyes, so soft and understanding. It made his stomach queazy.

He watched as his dick slowly was covered then revealed by your hand. It curved around him so perfectly, glistening with a mixture of lube and the pre-come he was leaking. You twisted your hand in just the right way.

You covered his cock and then revealed the head. You thumb lingered and smeared the pre-come at his tip. The point of your nail ever so gently grazed his hole and that’s what did it.

The lights flickered in the room as he spasmed and came. His screen went blank as he blacked out.

A few seconds later, he came to with you by his side with a glass. You tilted his head up and cupped your hand under his lips as you forced him to drink, any water that spilled was dropped in your hand.

You grabbed a cloth and wipes at his screen.

“Are you okay, baby? Was that good?” you asked and he could only mutely nod. “Good.”

You went to pull him into an embrace but stopped and looked down at your body. “Do you wanna clean me up or do you want me to do it?”

He followed your gaze and saw his come covering your torso, a bit of it even clinging to your bra. He leaned to lick it off you. You reclined onto the thrown of pillows and let him, stroking his shoulders and arms as he did.

He licked up to your bra and then was met with the rough contrast of the lace-like fabric compared to your smooth skin. He reached around and undid the bra. You let it fall and he licked where the come had been. Then he began sucking on your breasts.

“Oh, fuck,” this time it was you.

Spurred on, he reached down between your thighs and began stroking. You were wet, so fucking wet. His fingers slid through your folds with no hint of resistance.

He rolled your clit between two knuckles.

“Oh, so good for mommy,” you said as you continued petting him. “So good.”

He whined at both the praise and the title you had given yourself.

He began stroking you with a different purpose now. He needed you to come. He looked up at you, still sucking on your tit. He needed to see it.

Your breath quickened. Your pets turned into a tight hold. It was your turn to whine as your head rolled back and your mouth lulled open.

“So good! So good for me, baby, just like that,” you said right before you became incoherent. You groaned and moved up into his touch.

He went back to the tower feeling better than he could ever remember. The set you’d worn tucked into his pant pocket. You insisted, saying you had plenty of other sets. Who was he to refuse?

“Where the fuck have you been?” Velvette asked.

“Out,” he said as he walked passed her, in no mood for her screeching.

“For over two hours with your location turned off? You didn’t even answer your fucking phone,” Valentino said, voice raising to nearly as yell towards the end.

“Yes,” Vox said as he continued walking.

He heard Valentino laugh as he must have seen the lingerie set in his back pocket. “Were you really so busy fucking a hole that you couldn’t answer me? I hope they were good.”

“Better than you ever were,” Vox said before he closed his bedroom door, unwilling to let his lax mood be ruined.

A few months later, Vox was still going to see you. Absolutely hooked and you both knew it but so were you. You didn’t even made him pay but he still slipped money into your pocket or your bra so he wouldn’t have to face the fact that he was getting attached.

That was all thrown out the window when you released a new song. He wasn’t even halfway through watching the music video before he disappeared and found you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss and you knew exactly why.

The imagery in the music video was obvious. Pink smoke trying to creep into your studio only to be blocked, a deep blue body, TV screens everywhere. Then there were the lyrics:

I can give my babe affection without any type of infliction

You were just an intermission but I’m the center of attention

I’ve got him collared and leashed right where he needs to be

He’s down on his knees begging me with please

Better than any of his fantasies

Yeah, I’ve got his attention without infliction

#for the song I’m thinking chrissy chlapecka vibes just FYI #hazbin vox x reader #vox x reader

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darnell-la · 4 months

Text

Do you cream or squirt?

word count: 2.4k

pairing: sub!dom!steve harrington x nervous!reader x dom!eddie munson

note: please comment, like, repost and follow us for more. we’d also like if you guys could message us some ideas for our next book. we getting active!

WE DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR ANY COPIES OF THIS OR ANY OTHER OF OUR STORIES!

————————————————————————

3rd person pov

“Oh, I know you’re not talking about lasting long, Munson. Didn’t you just have a 10-second jerk-off session last week?” Y/n brought up a story he had told her and Steve a few days ago.

“That doesn’t count! I was being edged,” Eddie said, remembering how hard that day was for him when they were all out at the mall. Thinking back on it only angers him.

“By what? Magazines?” Y/n laughed with Steve as Eddie cliched his knuckles until they turned yellow. “Chill, it’s just a joke,” Steve said. “Jokes? Okay, well, how about you tell us about the day you creamed your pants when you know who showed up at the pool last year,” Eddie said.

Y/n hasn’t heard of this story yet, and Steve planned to keep it that way. “Oh my god, because of who?” Y/n asked, really wanting to know who it was. She’s too nosy, and that nosiness is a lane she probably wouldn’t be able to process or handle.

“Was it Nancy!?” She shouted, making Eddie laugh. “Oh, it sure wasn’t Nancy. It was someone way hotter than that,” Eddie locked eyes with Steve, trying to push Steve’s buttons since he constantly clowns Eddie with y/n.

“It’s no one,” Steve said as he broke eye contact with Eddie and flopped back on Eddie’s beg, getting his head lightly against the headboards. Eddie and y/n laughed at Steve’s clumsiness.

“Oh, cmon’ Steve! How bad did you cream your pants, that you don’t want to tell me? I’ve heard worse. Trust me,” y/n said.

“How about you ask Eddie since he’s the 10-second man,” Steve said. “It’s not like he didn’t rub one off after,” Steve started getting personal, and y/n knew it. She loved this side of them. It was so fun.

“Cmon’ bestie! Tell me about your 10-second mission. Don’t gotta be embarrassed,” y/n looked at Eddie as Steve chuckled in the background, knowing Eddie didn’t have the balls himself to tell her.

“Doesn’t matter,” Eddie replied. “Oh, now it doesn’t matter!? That’s hilarious!” Steve laughed as y/n rolled her eyes. “C'mon’! It’s not that serious,” y/n needed to know. She hates not knowing things.

“Hey, since you like these dirty secrets, how about you tell us yours, huh?” Eddie began getting defensive. “Like what, Eddie?” Y/n asked because her sex life has always been boring, and they know this.

“Tell us if you cream or squirt,” Eddie fought back. Steve’s jaw dropped at the demand. He would love to know to make his fantasies more realistic, but having it asked so randomly, shocked him.

“What? Fuck no! That’s different,” Y/n said. “No, it’s not. We’re all besties here, right? I tell you when I get my cock suck, and you can’t even tell me if you cream?” Eddie said, shocking y/n to the core.

“It’s not important,” the young lady said, not wanting to tell them about herself like that. “Oh, now you don’t want to share secrets? C'mon’, tell me. It’s all fun and games after all, right?” Eddie said, locking eye contact.

“I- I can’t just- Guys, I can’t just say things like that,” she said. “Why not? It’s not like we’re gonna judge you, ain’t that right Stevie?” Eddie asked Steve. “Yeah, of course not,” Steve said as y/n tried making herself comfortable on Eddie’s bed. Now she’s nervous and they can both tell.

“Besides, whatever you say will be hot either way,” Eddie said, definitely shocking y/n. Yes, they all flirt, but during a time like this? She’s never experienced it. Ever.

“C'mon, princess, it’s not that hard. Squirter or creamer?” Eddie asked as he shifted himself closer to Y/n, pressuring her to tell them and to make her feel a type of way. Maybe he can pull off what he’s been thinking about for a while now.

“I- I uh, I cream a little but I call myself a squirter. I uh, I usually squirt a lot though. A little too much,” y/n nervously said. Eddie clapped his hands as Steve’s jaw dropped again. He can’t believe she told them.

“Well, look at that. It wasn’t so hard, right?” Eddie asked as y/n nodded her head hesitantly. “Now, why have you been hiding such a thing from us, hm?” Eddie asked as he laid a finger on y/n’s thigh.

“B-Because I didn’t think it was uh, it was something serious,” she replied. “Well, now you know, and you know not to keep any more secrets from us, right?” Eddie asked. “Y-Yes,” Y/n said.

“Yes, what?” Eddie asked, shocking y/n all the way now. “What?” She asked. “Yes, what, y/n? You know what I want to hear,” Eddie said as his fingers trailed to her inner thighs. Steve stayed in the back in silence, growing hard at how nervous y/n was.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Eddie. Like, what are we even doing right now?” Y/n said as she tried pulling Eddie’s hang away but he kept his position.

“I think it’s pretty unfair how much you make us cum to only the thought of you when you could have been cumming on our cocks like you say you can,” Eddie said.

“What!? Eddie, I- I don’t know what’s going on but-“ y/n tried saying. “I want you to show me how much that pussy comes,” Eddie began leaning over y/n.

The girl leaned back, trying to avoid body touch until she realized she was leaning back into Steve. She went to get up, but Steve pulled her up close to him as Eddie got comfortable over her.

“Don’t panic, sweetheart. We just wanna feel you, okay?” Steve whispered in the girl's ear. “Guys, wait! We can’t be- I can’t do this,” she said. “And why is that? Afraid you’re gonna soak my bed? It’s fine, doll face. I’ve wanted that for years,” Eddie said.

The metal head made his movie and connected his lips to y/n’s. She instantly melted into the kiss as Steve snaked his hands around her and groped at her tits.

“You like this, baby? Just say red if you don’t want this,” Steve said as he began touching the girl, eventually gathering himself to pull her shirt up and let her tits free, out of her bra.

“S-Steve,” y/n moaned at the boy's pinch around her nipples. “I-I can’t guys. I just can’t,” the girl whined at this new feeling. No one has ever played with her tits like this.

“Yes, you will,” Eddie pulled away from their kiss and began tugging at her skirt. “Wait- Wait, Eddie, you can’t- Wait, no, I don’t- Eddie,” y/n didn’t know what to say.

“Ssh, doll face. Let me feel your cunt. You’ve been making me wait for so long,” Eddie slightly whined as he kept tugging at her clothes while he pulled his loose jeans and boxers down, just enough for his rock-hard cock to spring out.

“Just look at him, y/n. He’s begging for it,” Eddie pouted, finally getting y/n’s skirt off. “Little panties? You were right earlier, Steve. They are pink,” Eddie looked up at Steve, already close to cumming, just by touching her nice-sized tits.

“You know, you’re not so slick wearing all of this around us. Don’t tell me you're wearing this shit, not to be noticed by one of us and used. They’re just so — pretty,” Eddie traced a finger up along her clothed wet folds.

“Never knew our bestie was a whore. You wanted us to stuff you, hm? Just tell me, princess. Tell me you’ve always wanted this,” Eddie began slowly pulling her panties to the side.

“Fucking say it, or you’ll regret making me wait,” Eddie threatened as he ripped her panties clean off. “I’ve always wanted this!” Y/n cried out. Eddie saw a drop of bodily fluid leak from her cunt as she spoke.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fuck you ‘till you can’t breathe,” Eddie said before making his way in between the girl's legs. “Eddie,” y/n said low, still not knowing if this was right.

“Let him use you, sweetheart. Don’t wanna make us mad, right?” Steve asked as he pinched down harder on her nipples, making her cry no. “No!” She whined as her back arched. Eddie hadn’t even slipped in yet.

“Now, let’s see if you were telling the truth. Don’t hold back on me, Angel,” he said before pushing at her entrance. Eddie pushed forward until he was completely in the whiny girl.

“Wait!” Y/n cried out at the sudden feeling of being filled. She’s never felt so full in her life. “E-Eddie,” y/n gripped the long-haired boy's shoulders as Steve shifted his hips. Fuck, he’s close.

“Too much,” y/n got out as Eddie pulled back, but thrust back in, to stretch her out enough before he did what he wanted with her. “Get used to it, or you’ll just be crying on my cock,” Eddie said, inches from her face as he pulled back out, then slammed right back into her wet hole.

“P-Please!” Y/n begged as she felt herself soak his cock, only making it easier for him to fuck her. “Eds!” Y/n moaned as tears streamed down her face. “I’m so full,” he cried as Eddie smirked and Steve groaned in her ear.

“When I tell you, she’s a tight one, Harrington. I fucking mean it. She’s sucking me in like a fucking fleshlight,” Eddie groaned as the sound of his balls slapping against y/n’s ass, filled the room.

“Agh,” y/n’s eyes rolled and her head fell back. “A-A lot, Eds, a lot!” Y/n cried as she felt herself clinching around Eddie like she’s never done before to a cock. He can’t believe it. He can’t believe how dick drunk she’s been for him all this time.

He let that thought sit in his mind as he picked his paste up to fuck her harder. Why did she keep this from them? All the times they’ve gone to the bathroom in public to rub one off, knowing she would have been so easy to get on her knees and suck them dry.

“You’re in for it, y/n,” Eddie growled in her ear as he connected a free hand of his to her neck, tightly. “Eds! Eds!” Y/n cried in pain and pleasure as her walls clenched around his veiny cock before she finally exploded.

“Eddie!” She moaned loud as her cunt released everything Steve and Eddie needed. Y/n’s head stayed back and eyes stayed fucked out as Steve still played with her tits and Eddie pumped into her like he’s never fucked before.

“P-Please,” y/n begged for mercy as one hand reached up at Steve’s hair and the other to Eddie’s. “Please fuck me,” she begged, feeling another orgasm around the corner.

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned with a chuckle, as well as Steve as Eddie connected his last free hand to y/n’s waist. “You wanna take me now, baby? Wanna suck me fucking dry of my cum? What a fucking slut. I bet you made Steve cum already, hm?” Eddie asked as he looked behind y/n.

Steve nodded his head fast with a whine, still grinding against y/n’s back like a starved sex slave. “Gonna fill this cunt up, baby. You have no fucking choice,” Eddie slightly moaned as his thrusts got sloppy.

“Fucking hell, I — Baby, I- I’m cumming,” Eddie moaned in y/n ear, not noticing but tightening his grip on her neck and waist. She couldn’t complain though. Y/n loved the feeling of his grip on her neck.

“Holly fuck!” Eddie whined as his hips bucked a few times. His cum leaked from the weak girl's hole as Steve dropped his head back onto the headboard.

“Agh,” y/n moaned as she tightened around him again. This time he pulled out and let her squirt all over his lower body and bed. “Fuck, that’s a lot, baby,” Eddie groaned as he disconnected his hand from her waist and rubbed her folds, making sure everything comes out.

“Mhm,” y/n shifted. She’s never been this overstimulated before, and they can tell. “You fucking like that?” Eddie leaned towards her face, hand still tight around her neck. “Should I fuck this pussy full again?” Eddie asked, but y/n couldn’t speak back.

“I will,” Steve said. “Oh, shit,” Eddie chuckled as he got up. Steve moved from under y/n, showing how weak and limp she got. She still leaking her and Eddie’s cum.

“You just lay there and look cute. I’ll do the work,” Steve moved y/n on the bed, the way he needed her as Eddie sat right next to her face. “Hey, I’m still hard. Put that pretty mouth to use,” Eddie looked down at y/n as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

“Wait, wait. Baby, what color do you say when you need a break?” Eddie asked as Steve stroked himself in front of her entrance. “R-Red,” y/n slurred. “Should we go red?” Eddie asked, slightly worried.

“No. I just wanna be fucked,” y/n said low as she looked up at Eddie. “Don’t worry, doll face. You will,” Eddie said right before Steve shoved his cock into her already wet and used cunt.

As y/n moaned loudly, Eddie used that chance to push his tip into her mouth. “So fucking- oh my god,” Steve’s legs began to shake at the amazing feeling of his best friend's cunt so wet and tight around him.

“That’s it, baby. Suck me up,” Eddie rubbed y/n cheek as he lazily thrust into her mouth. “You’re our personal whore, you understand? No more of these wacky links. You’re ours,” Eddie made rules.

“And if you disobey anything we give you, princess, you’re fucking dead,” Steve said. “Understand?” Eddie asked, but y/n just looked up at him. She understands, but what will they do if she doesn’t comply.

“One chance is all you get,” Steve said as he grabbed y/n’s legs and pushed them back, causing him to fuck into her cunt deeper at a new angle. “Fuuuck!” Y/n cried as the clapping and gagging noises in the room grew.

“You’re so fucked,” Eddie chuckled as he leaned over a little bit to rub y/n’s sensitive bud. “Agh, no!” Y/n cried at the feeling of everything. Even Eddie’s cocky pushed further into her throat after he leaned over and Steve picked up his paste, causing her body to jolt back into Eddie’s cock. This is definitely all she wanted.

653 notes · View notes

weixuldo · 5 months

Text

Like a Drug

Toxic!Anakin x Reader

a/n: hihihi, this one is a pretty long one shot ahh sorry! its based on this ask from @hanasnx ! (Though I did change the promp a little) I just wanted to also update that It is officially finals week- so I'll be slower than i alr am SORRY!! but i have been working on the next xhapters of allow me and enigma when i get breaks!! I hope u enjoy! ALSO! Please don't stay w someone if they act the way anakin does in this fic- this is purely a scenario for fictional purposes, never let anyone do anything he does, to you.

Anakin has a very peculiar way of showing his love; well you call it love other people call it an unhealthy obsession... you finally realize how fucked up the situation is and leave- but the real question is how long can you stay away?

warnings: cursing, toxic bf ani, smex, cumplay, agressive behavior, mention of blood, fights, alluded sexual harassment, anakin is obsessive and posessive. (he's does some fucked up shit)

_____________________

“Get up” Anakin’s stern voice rang as he gripped your upper arm.

You jumped at the unexpected contact- why was Anakin here?

“Ani! You scared m-” you started to laugh before he tightened his grip.

“Now.” he growled.

You looked back at your friends sitting across the table from you; their eyes were wide. Before you could say anything, Anakin started to pull you up.

“Let go of her!” one of your friends demanded.

He snapped his head towards her and only loosened his grip on you to stomp to the other side of the table. His tall frame towered as he glared daggers at her.

“The fuck did you just say?” he spat.

She went pale and looked down at her lap.

“That’s what I thought. Anyone else have any smart comments?” he huffed, before promptly pulling you out of the restaurant.

Before you made it all the way out the door you mouthed an “its ok” to your friends before following your boyfriend outside.

“Anakin, what the fuck?” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air.

He continued towards his sleek black camaro (he loved to drive through the city at night, music blaring and his hand on his property, your thigh).

“Don’t fucking ignore me Anakin!” you shouted, gaining the attention of an older couple who were heading inside the restaurant.

Your cheeks burned as you caught their stares, but honestly you were used to this shit, it wasn’t the first time you and Ani had made a scene in public. Anakin always did this- he would get pissy over some irrelevant thing and you would get into an argument.

He stopped and turned with such anger.

“You really wanna know? You shouldnt have to fuckin’ ask why I’m upset! If you ever thought of anyone but yourself you’d see how fucked up it is of you to get dinner with those bitches who want to break us up” he screamed; his beautiful blue eyes dark with rage.

You knew Anakin hated your friends. And you knew they hated him.

“You know they don’t like me and always try to get you to leave- Meanwhile those sluts cant keep their legs shut; they’re probably just jealous cause I’m the only guy who gets to fuck you and they have to find a new one every night!” he spat.

Most of your friends were in stable relationships, but of course Anakin didn’t bother to remember that.

“How am I selfish Anakin? I just wanted to grab dinner with the girls and you didn’t even come up. I told them not to bring you up after the last fight” you sighed, exhausted from Anakin's irrational moods.

His sculpted jaw clenched and his right eye twitched.

“It's the fact that you still even allow their company, it’s disrespectful.”

You shook your head and huffed in disbelief.

“Anakin, you are absolutely unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable… Do you even hear yourself right now?!” you screamed.

“And not that it should even fucking matter, but how did you even know I was with them?”

“I have your location- you know that” he stated as if you asked if the sky was blue.

“I know that, but how about them?”

He knew where they were because he made several alternative snapchat accounts and pretended to be someone from school who was just looking for new friends.

He spent nights pretending to be an excited freshman who was wondering where the science building was. He used remix to send your friends snaps that made it look like he was on campus or hanging out downtown with other students. And eventually he gained their trust enough for them to turn on their snap map for him so he could “make sure they were safe” if they went somewhere, since it's “dangerous for us college girls down here”.

“Intuition.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “No way, you probably chipped their phones or some psycho shit cause you’re fucking crazy Anakin!”

“Well if you just goddamn did what I told you we wouldn’t have to have these conversations or be in these situations” he replied dryly.

“How many fucking “rules” are there for me to follow?! Everytime I go out or do anything, you find something to nit pick! It's exhausting! I don’t even know why I’m still with you?!”

“Get in the car.” he demanded.

“You’re insane if you think-”

His whole demeanor shifted and he sighed, “baby, please… I’m sorry, let’s talk about this”.

“No, Anakin- i’m done with your bullshit” you said, heading back towards the building.

He felt his scarred eye twitch, but he needed to subdue his temper (just until he could take it out on your pretty pussy).

See, Anakin Skywalker was a master manipulator. He knew that no matter how much you fought or how insane he acted- you would always come back.

This was clockwork for him. You’d fight, he’d act vulnerable, you would fuck, and then you’d be good for a while. A perfect system. Never failed.

He called your name with a desperate plea- he had no problem acting needy if it got him to where he needed to be, plus this gave you the illusion of having power in this familiar situation.

You hesitantly turned around to meets his gaze; his beautiful blue eyes glassy with his brilliant manipulation.

“Baby, I’m sorry- I just worry about you..” he spoke softly as you subconsciously came closer.

Soon his strong arms were wrapped around your waist and his scent flooded your senses.

“You know I can't control my feelings sometimes- I just love you too much- I can’t lose you too…” he whispered into your hair.

You knew exactly what he was referring to with the “too”- his mother. He was very close with her, growing up she was all he had. A few years back she passed away and it took a big toll on your lover.

You never wanted to admit it, but you knew he used that to guilt trip you into staying or to get you to feel bad for him.

You hated him.

But you couldn’t stop…

You held him tighter and grabbed his shirt fabric, “I know Ani… I know”.

You were now crying too- You knew this was unhealthy- toxic even; but you just couldn’t quit him.

You felt his strong arms lift you up and he carried you towards his camaro; you knew what came next… He’d comfort you, fuck you, then you would act as if no argument ever happened.

A cycle you had gotten all too familiar with.

__________________________________

“F-fuck” Anakin stuttered as he slammed his cock into you; intensive sounds of your bodies colliding, ricochet off the bedroom walls.

“You feel s-so good Baby- doin’ so good for me” he praised as he thrusted in and out of your plush walls. You were lying on your back as he held one of your legs over his shoulder so he could hit even deeper.

The glorious feeling of his calloused hands along your smooth stomach made you shiver. When you first started dating Anakin he told you that he would please you so well that no other men would be able to compare.

he was right…

No man could navigate your body the way he does, read your tells like he could, no man could make you cum as well as Anakin could.

He slowed his hips for a moment making you whine at the lack of movement from his thick cock.

“Look at me baby”.

You blinked your doe eyes open, tears falling from the corners. He observed your features before his eyes softened.

“My girl, my pretty girl… always so lovely” she smiled before tenderly kissing you.

“I love you more than anything” he whispered against your plump lips.

This.

Moments like this were why you stayed: he could be kind- he was sweet- he did care.

You were about to reciprocate his statement but were cut off by his hand tightly gripping around your throat as he continued snapping his hips into yours.

You squealed with each powerful thrust- it was ok, you’d tell him later.

His swollen member was blushing red and as hard as could be. He absolutely adored having you below him, taking his dick like a champ- he remembered how proud he was when you were finally able to take all of him.

A particularly hefty thrust sent his neurons firing and he knew he was almost at his end. He sloppily bucked his hips into your pelvis as his breathing became more erratic.

“I’m gonna cum- w-where do you want it sweet girl?” he half stuttered, half moaned.

You patted your chest and gave Anakin a knowing look.

With that he was gone, his brows knitted together in ecstasy and his hips lurched forward. A string of obscenities left his mouth as he quickly slid his dick out of you to aim for your chest.

Barely one pump in, his warm seed coated your chest. You watched as his abs and thighs contracted with each wave of pleasure. Some of his damp curls stuck to his forehead, he had a sheen of sweat, and his cheeks were flushed.

What a beautiful sight.

_________________________________________

Anakin’s fingers tucked some wild strands of hair behind your ear as you slept peacefully beside him.

Last night cut it a little closer than he normally would have, but it all worked out because here you were, still with him- fast asleep in his bed.

He grabbed your phone and began to go through your messages (an unhealthy habit he picked up a few months back), his fingers immediately moved to the new notifications from your friends.

He opened the pinned group chat and read the messages from last night.

Where r u? Where’d he take u?

Are you alright?

WTF was that?!

Anakin rolled his eyes; your friends were always so dramatic. But he smiled when he saw your response.

“Guys i'm good, ani took me home and we talked things out- he’s just been really stressed out lately, it's nothing to worry about!”

You were his good girl and he’d spoil you today for your loyalty.

He continued to scroll passively until he got to the newer unread messages.

y/n, can we all please talk when you get back- we’re worried about you

Yea, anakin doesn’t seem like he has the best intentions

We hate to see you in this situation

Babe, he’s toxic- u need to dump him

“...u need to dump him”

Anakin almost threw the phone across the room- no way these bitches were telling you to dump him?!

He was the only one who took care of you, he was the only one who knew what was best for you- who did these girls think they were?!

Before he could stop himself he took out his own phone and copied all of their numbers down so he could send several nasty message to the girls basically telling them to back the fuck off and being unnecessarily hateful.

After he blocked their numbers, he decided it was time for a shower, so he left you with a kiss and headed to the bathroom.

The emptiness of the bed made you wake. For a moment, you began to search for Anakin but the shower in the other room indicated where he was.

You smiled and cuddled further into his sheets. The warmth of the blankets began to pull you back into slumber but your phone interrupted the notion.

It was one of the girls you had gotten dinner with last night, what would she be calling this early for?

“Hello?”

y/n, I’m sorry but you need to come back now, I don’t think it's the best idea for you to be with anakin-

“Wait, slow down… why?”

She sent you screenshots of the messages he sent and you almost dropped your phone.

“What the fuck?! Anakin sent this?”

Yes, this morning- I really think you should get out of that relationship y/n- I’ve been telling you this! He’s trying to make you dependent on only him- it's not healthy!

You took a moment to regain your thoughts and quickly said a goodbye when you heard the water stop running.

Why would he be so cruel? You knew he had his issues but he’d never been so explicitly viscous before. Maybe your friends were right, you had been manipulated so much that you were defending his toxic behavior. This had to stop.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to face him for long (he would just pull you back in). So you quickly began to gather your things so that it would be easier to leave after you talked with him.

You almost had everything packed when the doorknob turned to reveal a fresh Anakin; his hair was still damp from the shower and his skin had a glistening shine from the residual steam. He had such a big smile… you hated this, but it needed to be done.

“What’s going on princess?” he frowned when he saw your bag was already packed.

“Anakin… I have to go” you said hurriedly.

He moved in front of you and held up a hand, “Woah, can we talk about what’s going on? Why are you leaving in such a hurry?” he asked (genuinely worried).

With a sigh, you looked him in the eye, “Anakin- we can’t keep doing this- we aren’t good for eachother”.

He felt his chest tighten.

“Was it your friends? Did they put those thoughts in your head?! I told you they weren’t-”

“Anakin! Please, enough! I saw what you said to them- Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not acting like the man I fell in love with… You’ve changed so much” you said with watery eyes.

For a moment he looked as if he were going to punch something but eventually he let out a breath and defeatedly stood to the side. Your words seemed to really hit him.

“Angel, I do what I do because I love you- you know that. I know I’m messed up- but I’ve been working on it, Truly” he promised.

Tears fell as you shook your head, “I know Ani, but it's not fair to me- I can’t keep doing this! We always end up fighting and you always get upset”

“I DON'T!” Anakin unintentionally shouted, making you shrink away from him.

“This is what I'm talking about Ani, I don’t wanna do this- no, i’m not doing this anymore. I’m leaving” you said, grabbing your things and heading for the door.

He called your name but you ignored him, you almost got to his front door when he grabbed your upper arm.

“Let go!” you shouted, snatching your arm from his hold.

“Please, just leave me alone” you cried as you walked out of the house and headed for the uber you sneakily called while he was still in the shower.

As the uber drove away, you saw a confused and hurt Anakin standing in his driveway.

You put your head in your hands and cried…

It needed to be done.

It had to.

_________________________________________

A few months later

The early autumn air nipped at your skin as you haistilly exited the rowdy club. You shivered and crossed your arms after checking the time.

10:34 pm

You had only gotten to the damn club 30 minutes ago and you already wanted to leave. You and some friends had gone out to reward yourselves for a hard week (and to hopefully get your mind off of your ex).

Some guy in the club had gotten a little too handsy fior your comfort- he attempted to put his hand up your dress and grope your breasts while you were just leaning over the bar to order another drink. You slapped him across the face and made your way outside to get some air.

You wanted to leave; as you stood by the curb you felt the familiar sting of tears pricking at your eyes.

Fuck.

The sensation of alcohol warmed your tummy and clouded your thoughts. Warm, strong hands protecting you from any other man who dared to look at you. Fierce blue eyes warding off any unwanted attention-

No.

You physically shook your head and opened your phone to distract yourself. There was no fucking way you were thinking about him right now. You scrolled to your uber app and looked up rates for a ride back to your apartment.

$40, $35, $47, $32, $43

The rates were through the roof, no way you were going to pay that just to get a few blocks home.

Almost instinctively, your hands moved so that your thumb was shivering over Anakin’s number.

What were you doing?!

You were about to swipe off when you realized: you weren’t willing to take an expensive uber, but you also didn’t want to walk that far in heels and at night. Maybe you should call him… at least you know him and he does owe you a favor anyways.

Fuck it.

You unblock and dial his number.

Ring…

Ring…….

Ring………..

Voicemail.

You groaned. You knew very well what he was doing- he was making you call several times so that you would look desperate. He loved doing that shit. You dialed again.

Ring…

Rin-

“Hey sweet thing, finally came to your senses?” he said, smugness dripping off his every word.

“Anakin- please come pick me up” you sniffed.

“And why would I do that? Why would I do you a favor after you’ve been such a bra-”

“Ani- someone tried to touch me- I wanna go home” you cried.

The other end of the phone went silent. Anakin’s eye began to twitch and his grip on the phone tightened.

“Where?” he gritted out.

“What? I’m on fourth street, over by the old mill-”

“Where did he touch you?” he interrupted.

You took a breath- maybe you shouldn’t have called Anakin, you knew he was going to cause a scene- but at the same time a dark part of you wanted him to become violent with his passion for you.

“He put his hand up my skirt and started groping my breas-”

“I’m on my way” is all he said before finally adding-

“That fucker is dead.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, Ani was coming.

___________

Anakin’s knuckles were a fiery red as he dealt several blows to the man who had dared to touch his girl. His vision clouded by rage and hatred; how dare someone try to touch what was his.

Sure, you were broken up (or so you thought); but anakin saw it as just a small break- You were getting back together- he knew it.

All he was waiting on was your call.

Once he was satisfied, he stood up and shook the blood off of his hand. He looked over his work; the man’s face wa bloodied and his lip was cracked (there was also possibly a tooth missing but Anakin didn’t really give a fuck).

He leaned over and spat, “Don’t ever touch someone who isn’t yours again”.

He made his way through the crowd of stunned onlookers who all began to back away from him as he headed towards the bathroom. Once he got there, everyone stepped out and allowed him to walk in with no hesitation (They didn’t want to get on his bad side in any shape or form).

He leaned on the sink and examined the cut on his cheekbone.

Whatever.

He turned on the faucet and washed the blood from his hands; no need for his beautiful girl to see the blood of a fucking perv.

He dried his hands and exited the building to collect you from outside the building.

You stood there, arms crossed, his jacket draped over your shoulders: his Angel.

“Hey, sweetheart” he called in a soft voice as he put his arm around you.

You looked at him with big eyes.

“Are you alright?” He kissed your forehead.

You nodded and hugged him closer to you.

“It's all taken care of, let's get you home”

______

“I knew you’d come back” he broke the silence in the car (well, the radio was on- but you hadn’t spoken since he left the club).

“Anakin, can we please not talk about this right now? '' you said quietly.

He glanced at you and put a tender hand on your thigh.

“Angel, these past few weeks without you have been hell… I’m sorry for how I acted- I love you”.

You knew this was just another way he was trying to manipulate you- he definitely don’t attempt to better himself, but you couldn’t help but indulge him- after all… you missed him too. You placed one of your hands on top of his and met his eye.

“Ani- will you take me to your’s?” you asked shyly, as if you hadn’t spent countless nights in his bed.

He smiled and rubbed his hand along your leg, “Of course darling”.

“Maybe I can help relieve some of your stress too,” he added with a deeper tone.

You mentally sighed- of course he wanted that; but you also wouldn’t mind having him near you again, so you politely nodded with a smile.

He squeezed your thigh, “That’s my girl, I knew you couldn’t quit me that easy”

You turned your head to look out the window at the bright city once more… He was right- you just couldn’t quit him.

***

Once again anakin is completely fucked up in this fic- pls dont romantiscice this behavior in real life... other than that- I hope you enjoyed the fic lmfaooo. I haven't really written ani as an actually problamatic character before, its mostly just like rude or grumpy ani lmfao. but ty for stopping by!!

542 notes · View notes

marksmelodies · 5 months

Note

bratty fem reader & idol jaehyun BUT!! reader is way more nicer 2 the members nd jaehyun gets jelly and fucks her 🙈🙈

OMG I LOVE THIS!!! HERE YOU GO!! I HOPE U LIKE IT <3

idol jaehyun x bratty fem reader

genre: fluff, smut, bit of angst

warnings: suggestive, rough sex, oral (male receiving) cussing

minors dni

—————————————————————————

“jaehyun” you whine to your boyfriend as you change into your dress getting ready to hang out with him and his members today

“what princess?” he says coming up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist

“put my shoes on for me” you give him puppy dog eyes as you bat your eyes at him

“what do we say pretty girl?” he looks at you raising his eyebrows

“now?” you answer in a slight bratty manner

“nope try again princess” he says as an intimidating look wipes across his face

“please jae” you say with a pout

“there we go, see sweetheart that wasn’t so bad” he picks you up sitting you on the bed as he kneels down to your feet putting your shoes on

“all set love” he says standing up as he places a kiss onto your lips

you were rich as rich could get, not only that but you were so spoiled, your father was pretty absent from your life due to work so he “made it up” to you by spoiling you with endless luxury items, anything you wanted, you got. you expected everyone to treat you like gold, that’s why you and jaehyun worked so well together, with him you got the best treatment there is. he devoted so much to you, and let’s not forget he was so incredibly sexy which was a plus

on the way to the dorms jaehyuns hand doesn’t leave your thigh as he lightly traces his thumb back and forth

arriving to your destination jaehyun quickly gets out of the car, running to the other side to open the door for you, walking in the door jaehyun slides his shoes off before taking yours off for you as well

“hey guys” mark says dabbing jaehyun up before he hugs you

“hi markie” you say smiling widely before making your way to the other members, leaving jaehyun in the distance

jaehyun cringed at the nickname you gave to mark before brushing it off following you to where the others are

“johnny it’s been so long” you say as johnny stands up hugging you as well

once saying hello to everyone you begin to talk to taeyong leaving jaehyun to fend for himself

“oh my god yeah that’s so funny” you smack taeyongs arm playfully before looking over to your boyfriend who’s on another couch

“jae get me water im thirsty” you say before turning your attention back onto taeyong

when jaehyun walks back from the kitchen he notices mark and johnny had now indulged in the conversation as well

“oh my god mark remember when we went shopping and i saw that bag i just had to get but i forgot my wallet so you bought it for me, it was like thousands of dollars” you say smiling up at him

jaehyun was pissed

he knew every member you were talking to wanted nothing more than to pounce on you like an animal, mark was the worst of them, and jaehyun knew that

“it was nothing really, just a present for the princess” mark laughs as his hand slightly touches your lower thigh

that’s when jaehyun snapped, the sound of him calling you princess sounded like nails on a chalkboard, the sight of him touching you made him sick, you were his princess no one else’s

“i mean, i get what i want when i want it” you say

“y/n come here” jaehyun says sternly from the other couch

“no, i was talking, don’t interrupt” you say brushing him off

jaehyuns face becomes slightly red with anger as he walks over to you grabbing your arm with force dragging you across the room “ when i tell you do something you do it” he says bringing you to his room which he barely used since he was always at your place

“you just love attention don’t you” he says slamming the door

“i mean yeah of course i do” you smirk at him

jaehyun pushes you against the door as he grabs your face harshly

jaehyun wasn’t very rough with you, he was quite gentle, always such a good boy for you, doing everything you demanded.. but the thought of mark thinking he had a ounce of a chance made jaehyun blood boil, the way you egged mark on made jaehyun even more mad

“you’re such a fucking brat” jaehyun says harshly grabbing your wrists as he makes his way to the edge of the bed

“get on your knees” he demands as he pushes your shoulders down causing your knees to hit the wooden floor, jaehyun quickly unfastened his belt as he shoved his pants down along with his boxers causing his dick to spring up hitting his stomach

“open your mouth” he says grabbing your face again, you listen as he lets go of you before he lines his cock up with your mouth roughly shoving it down your throat

your screams are muffled by his dick in your mouth, tears stream down your face as jaehyun shoves your head deeper causing you to choke

“yeah choke on my cock slut, god you’re such a whore” he said loving the way your tears streamed down your face as your cheeks puffed a bit stuffed with his dick

he harshly pulls your hair as he yanks you off his dick, he pushes you into the bed as he rips your clothes off your body

“you’re such a bad girl huh” before you could answer jaehyun shoves his member deep inside you quickly taking it out before shoving it back into you again causing your head to lean back attempting to push him off of you as you smack his chest with both of your hands as he finds his rhythm slamming into you rougher than he ever has before causing you to dig your nails into his skin leaving scratches all over his back

jaehyun is quick to trap your arms above your head as he hovers over you, locking eyes with yours “ open your mouth” he demands as you immediately listen to him, jaehyun spits into your mouth before closing your jaw for you as you swallow his spit “ good girl” he groans leaving marks on your collarbone moving down to your boobs as he harshly sucks them and bites the nipple causing you to yelp

swiftly he turns you into your stomach telling you to arch your back for him but instead of him slipping back into you he leans back looking at the position you are in as he chuckles to himself, smacking your ass as hard as he could leaving his hand imprinted onto your cheeks causes you to scream

“shut your mouth” he spits before slamming his dick back into you this time hitting it from behind, pulling both of your arms behind you as he hold onto them he continues railing you

he feels you squeeze around him hinting that you’re about to finish, jaehyun slows down his thrust causing you to whine “you don’t deserve to cum, why should i let you?” he says“ jaehyun let me cum” you cry

“beg for it” he says as a smile creeps onto his face as his thrusts remain painfully slow “ please daddy let me cum, i’ll be a good girl, please” you whimper, jaehyun kisses your lips before picking up his pace again causing you to moan loudly into the pillow

one of his hands slides down to your clit as he rubs it causing your back to arch even more, “fuck daddy i’m coming” you moan soon after your legs and hips begin to shake, jaehyun chases his own high as he feels the familiar knot in his stomach releasing as he cums inside of you “fuckkk” he says before you and him both collapse on the bed

jaehyun is laying on top of you as your face is smothered in a pillow, he leaves soft kisses to your bare back as he rubs your butt that is still slightly raw from his spankings earlier “you did so well for me princess” he whispers before cleaning you up, you’re completely fucked out underneath him, barley able to respond back to him

once you both have your clothes back on he picks you up bringing you back out to where the boys still sit on the couch, jaehyun sits down with you on his lap, wrapping your legs around his hips and your head rests in the crook of his neck, the members look to you and jaehyun with wide eyes before jaehyun speaks up “ this is my girl, don’t you forget it” he says purposefully holding eye contact with mark a little longer than the rest of them.

“jae” you whimper in his ear “ yes baby?” he coos

“i want to go home” you say picking your head up from his shoulder, looking into his eyes “ why’s that?” he asks

“i want to spend alone time with you” you say laying you head back down as he rakes his hands through your hair

“i can never say no to that princess” he kisses your temple

—————————————————————————

#nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct #nct scenarios #jaehyun angst #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun smut #nct jaehyun #jaehyun scenarios #jaehyun #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 drabbles #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x y/n

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toournextadventure · 5 months

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everyone but her pt.37

Summary: Wednesday knows, without a doubt, that you weren't the suspect everyone thought you were. And your date nights were getting rather interesting, but she's not entirely convinced about this new date idea.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: swearing, grief, past trauma, child abuse (in the past) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“Don’t even think about it.”

Wednesday sighed and pulled her hand back from the bag you were refusing to let her carry. Unfortunately, it wasn’t because you were being chivalrous. It was the second week after your therapist had gone missing, and you were still upset with her. She didn’t like it.

“I have already apologised,” she said as she walked behind you. “What more do you want from me?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you said in a faux sing-song voice that she had heard you use with Ash before. “Maybe to have my girlfriend not assume I’m stupid enough to kill my therapist?”

“No one has claimed you were stupid,” she said.

“And yet no one has agreed that I wouldn’t kill my therapist,” you finished a little too quickly.

She followed behind you, trying to open the door but you wouldn’t move aside for her. Instead, you turned the doorknob with your elbow after more than a few failed attempts and entered the apartment. At least Wednesday had the opportunity to close the door behind you both.

“No one believes you killed him,” she said as she tried to help you put up groceries. All it took was one look before she stepped back. If you were determined to be so stubborn, then she was determined to let you.

“Oh yeah?” You said; you practically threw the apples into the fruit drawer. “Because Bianca didn’t seem too disbelieving of it.”

“Bianca is ignorant,” she said quickly. “Additionally, she never claimed it was you, simply questioned your whereabouts.”

You threw the milk into the fridge next; Wednesday would need to make sure you didn’t bust the container. “Which I specifically told you before I left the apartment.”

Wednesday wasn’t foolish. Even though she truly felt you were being absurd, she was not foolish enough to continue the argument when you became so agitated. When you placed your hands on your hips and furrowed your brows. She would never claim to be an expert at reading physical cues, but she certainly knew yours. Or at the very least, she knew yours well enough.

“Anger metre?” She asked.

“Immeasurable.” You sighed and looked down at the floor. “An 8.”

Your hands fell from your hips rather pathetically. It was a look Wednesday hadn’t seen since those years at Nevermore. Back when you were a little too nervous to talk to her like you did now. She remembered it vividly; every time you would try to talk back, she would shut you down, and you would stand there awkwardly like a scolded puppy before walking off.

It almost warmed her cold heart to see you hadn’t grown out of it.

“Am I really that untrustworthy?” You asked; your voice was soft. Horrifically so. “Do people really think I would kill someone?”

Wednesday wasn’t prepared for an emotional conversation. She had been attempting to get you to relax about the accusations, but she hadn’t mentally prepared herself for what could come of it. A foolish thing, she knew; you were becoming more open about your feelings when they upset you so terribly. It was something she had encouraged in you even though she had never truly thought to grow with you in that regard.

There was no better time than the present, she presumed.

“Can we-,” she sighed, blinking twice before looking back at you, “-can we continue this in the living room?”

You raised a brow and tilted your head.

“You’re letting all the cold air out,” she said.

You frowned before your eyes slowly grew larger. It only took a moment before you shut the door to the fridge, stopping the incessant warning beep that came more often than not when you were in the kitchen. She thought back to when it had started; she had lied to you about the electric bill staying steady after you had panicked. Clearly you took bills more seriously than she had previously thought.

After hearing that it was okay, you hadn’t intentionally left the fridge open each time. It was simply how you were; getting distracted, finally free of the constant nagging and worry about the bills. Yes, Wednesday should have known you would be hyper-aware of such a thing, but she hadn’t imagined you would lose your focus that quickly.

“Come on,” you said quietly, grabbing Wednesday’s hand and pulling her into the living room.

Your hand was warm in hers. Even after all this time, after so much physical contact with you, your body heat would surprise her. There was no reason, she had grown accustomed to it long ago. Whether it was simply your hand in hers, your hand pressed against the small of her back, or your body curling around hers at night. You were warm, almost painfully warm, and it was sensational.

Wednesday sat on the couch opposite you, turning just enough to face you. On the other side, you crossed your legs on the couch, looking like an overgrown child. Or she supposed it was more reminiscent of a rather large dog not understanding quite how large they were. Behind you, your wings strained against the confines of not only the loosened harness, but the jacket you had yanked on earlier in the day.

“Do you think I would kill someone.” It wasn’t so much a question anymore; any hesitancy in your voice had long faded. “Be honest.”

Yes. Yes, she did believe you would kill someone. She remembered the fear and anger in your eyes back at Nevermore when that rogue werewolf had gone after you and Eugene. If it had gone after Eugene, you would have killed it without a moment’s hesitation. Add on to that the looks she had seen you give others who attempted to harm - whether emotionally or physically - any of your friends? Yes, she believed without question that you would kill someone.

But not, however, without reason.

“No,” Wednesday lied effortlessly.

“So you believe I didn’t do it?” You asked. “There’s no doubt in your mind that I’m innocent?”

“In this instance, yes.”

Your shoulders visibly relaxed at her words. There was an unusual relationship surrounding the both of you and your criminal proclivities. While you wouldn’t fault the other for their activities, you were both incredibly willing to tell the other one if they’re guilty. For instance, you had acknowledged her grave digging scandal from last year. Not with shame, but admiration. On the other hand, she would not hesitate to remind you of your underage, international murder scandal.

It was an exceptionally beautiful relationship.

“How’d you know it wasn’t me?” You asked, doe eyes looking up at her through your eyelashes. A faux innocence that did wonders for Wednesday’s imagination.

She shifted in her seat and inhaled deeply. “I taught you better than to leave evidence behind.” You snorted with laughter. “Leaving behind an entire foot is an amateur move at best.”

“And here I thought you’d say I was too kind for murder,” you said.

Wednesday would have been content to allow the conversation to end as it was. As long as you believed she had faith in your innocence, there wasn’t much else to say. Your anger had appeared to dissipate and there was no need to dwell on the topic. After all, as long as she believed you, could you really be all that upset?

But you still didn’t move from your spot. In fact, you didn’t even move to grab the remote, or to put on some sort of noise in the background of the usual apartment noises. You simply sat there, legs crossed, playing with your fingers. Dread welled up in Wednesday’s chest; she knew those mannerisms.

“So,” you started, drawing the word out long enough for Wednesday to feel not only dread, but pure horror. “Wanna hear my new date idea?”

She sat up straighter, eyes moving around the apartment for nothing in particular. Oh. Well, that wasn’t quite what she had been expecting.

You waited for her to nod once. “Remember when I visited Nicky for Christmas?” She nodded again. “Well, I think I remembered something.”

Another pause as you recollected your thoughts.

“He had this notebook,” you held your hands out like you were holding the object, “or I guess it was a journal.” Your hands squeezed into fists. “He wrote everything in it, and I need to go find it.”

“Why would you need a journal?” She asked.

You sighed. “I think he wrote about everything our parents did and I just- I- I need to know.” Your pupils were blown. “I have to know what happened in that house.”

Wednesday still said nothing.

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” you said, “and I need to know what happened before I lose my fucking mind.”

The skin on your knuckles paled as you continued to ball your hands into fists. Even as her outward demeanour remained the same, Wednesday felt the effects of her heart rate increasing. She hadn’t needed Enid to explain what panicking was, though this was getting dangerously close to falling off the ledge of “panic” and into the pool of “desperation.”

If it had been anyone but you, she would have felt humiliated as she so-eagerly reached out to place one of her hands on top of yours. Her small, cold hand couldn’t cover your entire fist. Yet that didn’t seem to matter when she felt the tendons in your hand ease up, and you quickly turned it over until you could lock fingers with hers.

She would never admit such a thing aloud, at least not to anyone but you, but her chest warmed when she was the cause for your relief. It wasn’t the same warmth she felt for selfish reasons; it was vastly different from when she beat Bianca at a game of wits. This was more encompassing, more… more.

“How does that relate to your date idea?” Wednesday asked.

You looked up at her through your lashes again, though your smile was far more mischievous than earlier.

“Wednesday Addams,” you said in a tone that sent a shiver down her spine, “would you like to commit a B&E with me this weekend?”

Now that. That was wholly deserving of her own matching smile. You certainly knew the way to an Addams’ cold heart.

—---

It didn’t take long for Wednesday to realise just how long you had been planning this “date,” or at least something similar.

“They’re never home on weekends,” you said when you dropped the both of you into the yard. “They’re always either at the Catskills, or schmoozing their way through the Senate.”

She admired the way your wings tucked against your back. As much as she hated flying, she wouldn’t deny her fascination with the appendages, especially after the fact. Only when they were still could she see the muscle underneath the feathers and skin; muscle that had to be incredibly dense if they could carry you and her without a larger wingspan.

Maybe it was time she strapped you down and studied your musculature again. Clearly you had grown since the last time.

“There’s a risk doing this in broad daylight, is there not?” Wednesday asked when you stopped underneath a window.

You shook your head without looking away from the house. “Everyone in the area is still sleeping off their hangovers.”

“Cameras?”

“Fake.” You finally looked at her, a certain glimmer in your eye that had Wednesday’s stomach twisting into knots. “They always said just the belief someone was being watched was enough of a deterrent.”

“A foolish mistake,” Wednesday mumbled to herself.

“But helpful for us,” you said with a smile. “The window goes to my room,” you said, locking your fingers together to create a makeshift step. “I’ll hop in after you.”

“Silent alarms?” She asked as she placed her hands on your shoulders to steady herself. Your muscles shifted underneath your shirt when you started raising her closer to the window.

“Nope,” you said. “They rely on their fake security cameras and Eddy.”

“Who?” Wednesday asked, her hands stilling on the outside lock of the window. She adored you for saving the lock for her to pick.

“Our security guy,” you said. “He’s sweet, but shit at his job.”

The use of the word “our” did not escape Wednesday’s attention as she pulled herself through the now-unlocked window. It wasn’t often that you would lump yourself into the same group as your parents. More often than not, you attempted to distance yourself as much as possible, even going so far as to call them by their first names. Though she supposed, at the end of the day, they were still your parents no matter what they said or did. You loved too deeply to eliminate them completely.

For the sake of easing her curiosity, she slowly made her way around your room even as the gentle flap of your wings could be heard outside the window. The room itself reminded her of her own room back at Nevermore. Almost no personal items, nothing indicative of who you were. The only thing that would indicate anyone had even lived in the room was a singular photo in a frame; a photo of you and Nicky on a sailboat in a time long forgotten.

“Ready?” You asked over the sound of the window sliding shut. “It’s a quick trip down the hall, unless they moved everything to dad’s office.”

There was an air about you as you crossed the room. After Nicky, you had tended to roam, seemingly without any direction. If someone said jump, you would ask how high. But this was different; you looked like you had a mission and there was a clear physical determination in the set of your shoulders and the glint in your eye.

Wednesday reached out to grab your arm. Your muscles were taut, but quickly relaxed when you looked down at her. She hadn’t forgotten what you were both there to do; she was more than aware of the desperation you kept hidden behind a cocky smile.

It did nothing to ease the growing affection she had for you in that moment. Breaking and entering was a good look for you.

All it took was one firm tug on your arm to pull you down to face level. She simply had to lean forward slightly to kiss you. You were always like putty in her hands when she kissed you. In those moments, she swore you would have done anything she asked, no consideration required. It gave her a sense of control that you so often inadvertently took away.

When she pulled away - though, surprisingly, hesitantly - your eyes fluttered before opening fully. Her amazement at your reaction to her never eased over the days. Back at Nevermore, she had fully believed her body would become accustomed to how you reacted; she had never been so grateful to be wrong.

“If only my parents knew I just kissed a woman in their house,” you said softly, your words tumbling from your lips faster than normal. “They would die from shock.”

Wednesday ignored the flutter of her heart. “Lead the way so we can go home.”

“Yes ma’am,” you said with a tip of your invisible hat.

You manoeuvred your arm until you could hold her hand, pulling her after you on the way out of your room. Not the best way to stay inconspicuous, but Wednesday had become rather fond of the way her hand felt in yours, so she wouldn’t dare pull away.

The both of you peeked around the doorframe, looking both ways before exiting your room. The house was far too pristine for Wednesday’s liking. How could a family reside in a house with so little belongings? Where was the tapestry of history hanging from the walls? The artefacts that belonged to generations past to symbolise where you came from? Instead they were bare walls, minimalist in a way that even she found tasteless.

It only took a few steps down the hall before you attempted to open the door. The doorknob jiggled, but wouldn’t turn. With a sigh, you pulled Wednesday closer until she had full access to the lock. She was more than aware that you knew how to pick a lock; you had practiced it for weeks after she had mentioned it. But she appreciated your allowing her to have all the fun.

The lock was child’s play; your parents may have been intelligent, but they didn’t appear to take security very seriously. You pulled her with you into the room before turning and closing the door quietly, the click of the lock almost inaudible. She felt the cold air hit her palm as you pulled your hand away.

“Look for a journal,” you said. “A leather one with a black string tied around it.”

You didn’t wait for her to acknowledge your statement before digging around the room. And as much as Wednesday wanted to help, she couldn’t help but watch you. There was a gentleness to your rushed movements, almost as if you were worried you would break something. She knew you still grieved for Nicky even if you didn’t outwardly show it. His items were sacred to you in a way few things were.

“You okay?” You asked, and Wednesday was faced with the humiliation of getting caught staring.

“Of course,” she said, doing her best to sound as uninterested as possible. Unfortunately for her, you had broken her emotionless facade years ago.

Unlike your room, Nicky’s held some semblance of life. Select baseball cards were put in small plastic cases and propped up on the dresser. Under his bed was shoebox after shoebox, filled to the brim with comics, toy cars, marbles, and a menagerie of random Lego pieces. Toys that had been absent from your room.

“I can’t find it,” you said once you finished looking through every inch of the closet. “Just his stupid, stuffy clothes.”

Wednesday was kind enough to ignore the jacket you quickly tied around your waist.

“You mentioned it might be in your father’s office,” she said.

You sighed. “I guess I always did want to see what he hid in there.”

You didn’t grab her hand before leaving the room; she was thankful you couldn’t see her frown at the realisation. But she was quick to follow, closing the door as softly as you had. The new wooden flooring was a blessing, being far too new to make a sound when you snuck down the hall.

The hall opened up to a balcony overlooking the foyer. A large grandfather clock was almost directly below, tick tick ticking away; Wednesday couldn’t imagine hearing the sound every single hour of your life. The marble flooring was beautiful with its golden veins, though it was far from her sense of style. It all looked beyond pristine.

How had you ever managed to live in such a sterile environment?

“Come on,” you whispered, grabbing Wednesday’s hand to pull her away from her staring. “I want to get out of here.”

Your grip on her hand was a little too tight for comfort. You would never hurt her, she knew that, but it was certainly pushing the boundary. She tried to squeeze your hand, only barely managing to do so, but your grip lightened almost instantly.

As hard as she tried, there would be no way for Wednesday to know how you felt about being back in the house. You hadn’t let her know much about what had happened before and after the funeral, but she had seen the damage. The weight loss, the jittery movements, the avoidance. She would admit, she couldn’t recall a time where she had felt so uncomfortable in a location.

It was an unusual feeling, wondering how someone else would feel in a certain situation. It settled deep in her stomach, leaving behind a feeling of… emptiness. Was that how you felt, being in your childhood home once again? Knowing that there were no good memories, only sorrow and grief and a void that you could never fill?

“Y/N?”

You froze, standing up as straight as possible. Wednesday often forgot how tall you were; you took to slouching more often than not. She attempted to see who had called your name, but you quickly stepped in front of her, hiding her from sight.

“We’ll be leaving soon,” you said softly. Your tone was gentle, almost similar to how you talked with your mother. “I promise.”

“Is that her?”

You squeezed her hand. There was a moment where the air was so thick, Wednesday truly thought she would drown in it. Yet another feeling that she was rather unfamiliar with. It only got worse as you stepped aside, turning your body sideways to keep a strategic position between her and this new guest in front of you.

The woman looked homely. She looked older than Wednesday’s own mother, though not as old as Grandmama Addams; the wrinkles on her brown skin gave it away. Even as she dried her hands on the hand towel in her pocket, Wednesday could tell they were well worn from years of use. And yet she still looked at you with a kindness that Wednesday knew you had never gotten from your own mother.

“Mabel,” you said softly, “this is Wednesday.”

Mabel smiled. “You’re more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.”

The statement left an uncomfortable weight in Wednesday’s chest that she couldn’t quite place. She didn’t believe it was because of the statement itself, it was simple enough. No, it could potentially be from the implication? Perhaps it came from knowing that you had talked about her to someone from your past. The same past that she was blind to, that you actively hid from her.

Someone from your past knew about her and it was… frightening.

“We just need in the office,” you said, “and then we’ll be gone.”

Mabel said nothing. She simply stood to the side of the hall, leaving plenty of space for you to pull Wednesday along. There was a moment where Wednesday met her warm brown eyes; they were filled with a look of motherly care. It made her sick to her stomach.

“Don’t touch anything,” you said when you closed the office door. “I’ll only be a minute.”

Wednesday didn’t think she could have searched for anything even if you had asked her to. She couldn’t get Mabel’s eyes out of her mind. There was a horrifying amount of tenderness when she looked at you. Your head had been turned too far, but she could imagine the same sentiment had been in your own eyes.

What a world you had lived in. To grow up receiving care not from your actual parents, but from your brother and the family maid. Now, Wednesday was not overly fond of how her own parents showed their affection; they were too forward and extravagant. That did not, however, change the fact that they loved their children with their entire beings.

She walked forward while you were still digging around. You weren’t touching things, just ghosting your fingers over the spines of books, the shelves, hesitating before pulling open the metal filing cabinets. There was the smallest tell in your actions; your hands shook not with anger, but with fear.

Her feet stopped her in front of a small set of shelves covered in awards and framed newspaper clippings. Your father’s winning cases littered the wall, each seeming to receive a more extravagant frame than the last. But right in the middle of all of them was a singular picture frame, a misfit amongst the glory with its chipped black paint.

It was a family picture of all four of you. The lot was bundled up in winter clothes. Your father held skis in his right hand, and a young you in his left. Nicky stood between your parents, and your mother was looking regal as always. A snow capped mountain made for beautiful background scenery, but that wasn’t what Wednesday was focused on.

You were all smiling.

Your voice screamed at her from the back of her mind, telling her not to touch anything. But who was Wednesday to deny her own curiosity? Curiosity sparked new thoughts, new revelations, and she was never one to deny herself such satisfaction. Besides, you were far too busy with your own search, how would you know if she simply picked up the picture to get a closer look-

-her brain didn’t even have time to process the shock before she felt the chill of winter whipping around her. She couldn’t orient herself properly, but she recognised the snowy mountain in front of her. The peal of laughter brought her spinning head to a halt; it was higher pitched, but she would recognise it anywhere.

You were waddling across the snow after Nicky, hands outstretched in front of you. The look on your face was so genuine, so pure, Wednesday wasn’t entirely sure she had ever seen it on your face in all of her own years of knowing you. It was almost a peaceful aura about you, as if nothing had troubled your young mind just yet. Perhaps it hadn’t.

A little further behind the both of you, your parents stood together, smiling down at you. It was different from the polite, professional smiles she had seen on their faces before. These reached their eyes. If she let her mind stretch reality for a moment, she could almost see… love in those smiles.

“Come on, you two,” your mother said in her slightly accented voice. “Let’s get inside before it gets late.”

“Coming!” Nicky called, letting you chase him as you both ran through the snow that was starting to pile higher on the ground.

Wednesday followed along behind the four of you, keeping her distance for better observation. Nicky was quick to get beside your mother, while you stayed beside your father. His hand grabbed yours gently, dwarfing your entire body beside him. The look on his face would have been precious if she hadn’t known how he ended up treating you.

She stayed outside of the small cabin when you all went inside. It was nothing fancy, nothing that would indicate the small fortune that you came from. Simply a secluded cabin on what appeared to be a secluded mountainside. Wednesday could appreciate the small structure even as she stood by the window, peering in.

There was a small fire on the far wall, and Nicky was quick to shed his winter clothes to sit in front of it. Your father stayed behind, helping you out of the clothes that probably weighed more than you did. It amazed Wednesday how someone so small could turn into the absolute giant that you were in the present.

Your father’s hands were so gentle on your skin. If she didn’t know any better, it would have looked like love. Maybe it was. Perhaps it used to be. Surely there had been a time, much like this, where you had been loved so unconditionally that it reflected off your smile. He was so careful with you, helping you with each layer of clothing as if one wrong move would break you. You were cherished, you were loved, you were cared for.

He helped you take off the last remaining layer aside from your shirt. It stuck to the small coat, pulling up until it caught on your head, and Wednesday felt that uncomfortably familiar weight settle in her chest. Your back, untouched by the traumas of the future, was bare. No wings, no indication of anything that would signify you were anything other than a Normie.

Your parents loved you because you were “normal.”

“Wends?”

The chill of the mountain air disappeared, too quickly replaced by the warmth of your home. It was a painful switch, leaving her fingers tingling and burning at the same time. She pulled her hand back to her side, being careful not to move the picture frame. You were sitting at the desk in the middle of the room, your brows furrowed. The crinkle between your eyes was more prominent than usual.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

She nodded once, hesitantly.

“I can’t find it,” you said with a sigh. “We should head out before it gets too late.”

You didn’t move from the desk, just kept looking at her. And all the while, Wednesday couldn’t ignore the way her heart started to race. Sitting at that desk, with your back ramrod straight and arms resting on the mahogany wood, you looked like someone who belonged there. A completely different person than the one she had unceremoniously fallen for time and time again.

You looked just like your father.

She would never say it aloud.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega x reader #everyone but her au

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riverbutghost · 8 months

Note

Can I get who did this to you + you could’ve died with ghost ? With injured reader ? I love ur writing !

Omg stopp I love you <3 I love angst so I hope I’ll deliver the bestttt. Please keep up with prompts like this guyss I love it.

Here are some angst prompts !!

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN!Reader

Summary: You accidentally came face to face with Graves after his betrayal, and he attacked you. Ghost wasn’t happy that you kept this a secret.

Warnings: military stuff, wounds, Graves stabs your hand, slight torture, we hate Graves in this one lol…

You were tired, exhausted. You could barely walk. The mission was almost done.

You gripped your gun tighter, hardened your gaze and pushed through the fire. It was hard for your to walk with an injured leg, but that wasn’t important. You were going to get checked out anyway.

There was a noise coming from behind. You turned around, fingers dancing around the trigger.

“Well, well, well… Look who’s here.”

You turned around again, the voice was familiar.

“Graves…”

You clenched your jaw after remembering his betrayal. He had betrayed you, your team. Your anger was getting worse.

Your hand automatically moved to your comm, but Graves pushed you to the ground. You gasped and looked up to him. He crouched down.

“Yeah, no need to inform anyone here. We will just have a talk.”

You grimaced as he kicked your gun harshly.

“Fuck you, Philip. I thought we were friends-“

“Oh, really?”

He laughed and smirked sinisterly. You furrowed your eyebrows. It was like he was someone else.

A sudden pain jolted through your hand as you screamed. You looked down, and saw that Graves had a knife in your hand. A fucking knife was deep down inside your hand.

“Stop it fucker!”

You yelled at him, trashed and turned but he didn’t pull it out.

“You’re naive, to think that we were friends. I always hated you to be honest.”

You gritted your teeth in pain. You couldn’t concentrate on his words as your hand throbbed. It was worse than your leg obviously, and it made you forget about your leg.

“Oh for fuc-“

You gripped your side and screamed as he kicked your ribcage quite forcefully. You curled up in a ball, and whimpered.

“Shut it. You stole something from me. Give it back.”

He wasn’t playing around anymore, he was serious as fuck. And you didn’t know what he was talking about.

“I don’t know-“

He stepped on your injured leg, making a noise coming from it. You yelled and trashed. You started hitting his leg, but he wasn’t budging.

“Please- Please!”

He eventually let go, but your leg was still throbbing. You whimpered again as you looked down on the ground. There was blood everywhere.

“Give. It. Back. Or else, I swear-“

His attention immediately went to the noise that came from his comm. Your breathing was getting better and you prayed for him to leave.

“You’re lucky, next time I won’t play games. I will kill you immediately.”

He kicked you one last time before leaving. You laid down for a moment, with closed eyes. What did he want? You absolutely had no clue.

You tried standing up, but whimpered at the way your hand and your leg throbbed. Still tensed up, you held your breath and got up in a swift motion.

“Aghh, fuck!”

Your face scrunched up and you cursed yourself, Graves, war and everything.

“We found Graves, meet us in front of the heli.”

You sighed.

“Hey, you okay?”

You turned towards your Captain and smiled.

“Yeah, all good. Need a few stitches, though.”

You chuckled with him. You swiftly looked at Ghost to see how he was when the helicopter touched the ground. His eyes met yours instantly, but he averted them again and gritted his chin.

You found this pretty weird, but shrugged it off.

You got up, body focusing on your injuries as you walked out of the heli. You waited for one of them to turn around. Why would they though?

“Give your old pal a hand !”

You jokingly said as Simon turned around and lifted you in his arms. He put you on your feet and continued his walk.

“Uhm- thank you..?”

You mumbled and tagged along. What was his problem now?

“Come with me,”

You held your breath and cursed. You had to get checked out but Simon was asking you to come with him.

“I’m gonna take a sho-“

“Come.”

He left no room for a reply and you followed him, a little annoyed. When you realized that he was actually taking you to get checked out, you furrowed your eyebrows.

He opened the door an closed it back after you two got in.

“Did something happen..?” You asked him with a shaky voice.

“You tell me.” He grumbled, eyes never leaving yours.

“I-“

You stopped mid sentence, sucked your bottom lip up and looked up at him. His gaze softened a little and he took a step closer. His hand came towards your waist, but you whimpered in pain. His hand was pulled back immediately.

“What-“

He mumbled and took a deep breath. His hand made contact with your vest, and he pulled it off. You didn’t say anything.

He looked at your bruised ribcage, and opened his mouth to speak again.

“Where else?”

You pointed down to your leg, dried blood was still there. He ripped your pants of within a second, and you gasped lightly as the sudden contact with air.

Simon looked up at you with…disappointment… which then turned into anger. He took your arm and inspected it as well. After a few calming breaths, he opened his mouth. He took a few steps back.

“Who did this to you?”

You took a deep breath. There was no denying now.

“Graves… He attacked me.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows and took a step towards you.

“What..?” He asked in confusion.

You just swallowed and pursed your lips. Simon’s confused face suddenly turned into an angered one, and he took a step back.

“Why didn’t yo- Why the fuck didn’t you tell us-me?!” You looked down in shame and held your tears in.

“I can’t believe you! You could’ve fuckin’ died!”

He slammed his fist into the medical cabinet, and the glass shattered into pieces. You flinched.

There was a loud silence for a few minutes. Only the breathing of Simon was heard. You opened your mouth to speak.

“I didn’t want you to think..low of me.”

Simon averted his eyes away from you and shook his head slightly.

“You could’ve died. That’s what matters. You matter.”

A choked sob left your throat as you buried your face to your hands. Your arm was throbbing, but you didn’t care.

“Hey, hey- It’s okay. Don’t pull that shit again, yeah?”

Simon rushed towards you and lifted your chin with his thumb.

“We can’t lose you. I can’t, lose you. Not you, okay? just want you to be more careful with your life.”

You looked up to him with big broken eyes and his gaze softened even more if that was possible.

He sighed after a minute of you staring at him with pleading eyes.

“C’mere, pretty..”

You pulled him closer to you and threw your arms around him.

“Gotta check on your wounds too, love.”

Simon mumbled against your head, breathing deeply into your hair while thinking of ways to make Graves suffer for almost killing you.

You just sniffled and held him tighter. Simon didn’t know how to approach you, but one thing he knew was, Graves was about to get fucked, that was sure.

#call of duty #call of dooty #cod mwf2 #simon riley #simon riley angst #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley fluff #call of duty modern warfare #cod mobile #cod men #request for riverbutghost

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izvmimi · 10 months

Text

daddy's home (2) - izuku x reader

cw: MINORS DNI, noncon/dubcon, horror themes, you and izuku have a child, parental dynamics, manipulation, villain!deku, yandere!deku, violence, fem!reader summary: izuku tries to make amends with his family after his absence. (~3.4k words) a/n: reposted. part 1 here.

As you continue to hear his footsteps approach, the dreadful sound amplified by genuine fear of your partner, you think wistfully of the past.

Clearly, it hadn’t always been like this. Izuku, at his core, was someone sweet - bashful, kind, protective… not whatever monster was marching through your home this very second, causing your mind to race as you thought frantically of ways to protect your daughter. That was your first priority.

But he wouldn’t hurt his daughter, right? That’s where he would draw the line, no matter how altered his thoughts concerning allies versus enemies had become over time. And even if now you had drawn a clear line in the sand, you’d like to think that he wouldn’t hurt you - he hadn’t ever threatened to hurt you, now had he? He’d only given you warnings, reminding you that turning against him wouldn’t be in your best interest. After all, according to him, he’s the only one who really cares for your well-being. That’s why he married you, right?

“I... I think all of this is excessive,” you mumble to Mei as she demonstrates the security upgrades to your home. Iida shakes his head almost furiously, and seems to double and triple-check his wife’s work and potential blind spots, peering at new cameras shoved in the corners where the ceilings meet and laser tripwires invisible to the naked eye. There’s a panic device in the hallway between the kitchen and one of the living rooms hidden behind a wedding picture where both of your smiles are radiant enough to be blinding. The fact that it’s come to this makes your stomach turn.

“In all honesty, there’s a good chance it might not be enough,” Mei admits, and the fact that for once she realistically communicates her own engineering limitations underlines how grave the situation is. If even she is admitting that she’s not infallible, that means your situation is bad.

What is he, God? You think bitterly, but resign yourself to saying nothing. You are not too distraught to accept kindness from your friends.

Bakugou, for example, now texts you every morning, a simple two words.

You good?

While you understand and appreciate where he’s coming from, every time you see those words, you can feel yourself losing your patience. If you could have your husband back, you’d be great. Fantastic even! You’d always texted back the same thing, in different variations -

Yeah, thanks for checking!

He never responded after that. It wasn’t that he didn’t care; it’s that he still did not want to entertain the idea that his friend had gone off the deep end for too long.

It’s hard for everyone, not just your family, you have to remember.

You can hear Izuku’s steps almost right outside your door, the pace almost synchronous with the pounding in your heart. There’s no use in hiding anymore. Steeling your resolve, you hold your slumbering daughter close for a moment, and kiss her forehead.

“Mommy loves you,” you whisper. She doesn’t stir, and you wonder what it is to be a child again, safe and naive and uncorrupted by circumstance.

And then you tumble out of the room to face him.

—

He stands at the end of the hall facing you; you stand, fists balled tightly by your sides and your expression unnecessarily fierce - it’s thought that fear and anger often are mistaken for each other, and Izuku seems to think so today as well.

He tilts his head slightly, and his voice is slightly raspy, deeper than usual, as he calls out to you. There’s a strained quality to it, as though his voice has been unused for a while, even though the two of you did technically just speak, or maybe he’s forgotten how to speak to you softly, how to speak to anyone with kindness.

But he tries.

“Are you mad at me, love?”

There’s a little bit of electricity in the air that you can feel in the strands of your hair that you know emanates from him. Energy that he hasn’t kept inside now that he has no reason to show any restraint. His eyes aren’t glowing however; if anything, they’re devoid of any light, dull like a lifeless forest in the dead of night. You wonder if, haggard as he appears now even if he is always and forever handsome, has come out of the wilderness. Where does he stay when he’s not here? Where is he physically when mentally he is lost?

You can’t get words out of your throat no matter how hard you try to answer him. He breathes from his nose, a sigh, and in the blink of an eye, he’s crossed the distance between you two, and has you pressed up against the wall. Caged in, his hands pressed on either side to make it clear that you have no escape, your faces are millimeters apart. This is not the man you love who values your space and your autonomy and the idea of you, above all, freely offering yourself to him.

This is not your Izuku.

Nevertheless, not-Izuku kisses you roughly and bites your lip sharply as his mouth disconnects from yours. It’s painful and bruising and you think you taste blood, but the salt on your tongue probably comes from the tears that fall from your eyes as you tremble.

When you look at him through a moisture-blurred view, for a moment it seems as though his eyes shine too.

Maybe, maybe for a moment. You blink, and they’re dull again.

“Izuku, please don’t hurt her,” is the first thing that falls from your lips.

His facial expression turns wicked for a moment and then he laughs and it is not his laugh. It’s something tinny and sick and wrong coming from him. He kisses you again, bites even harder this time, enough that you wince, and this time you are sure your lip is bleeding.

“Hurt? Why would I hurt my princess? How could you even ask something so silly?”

Izuku presses his forehead against yours, and his cool breath runs over your wet cheeks. His hands grip your wrists and raise them up above your head, pressing the back of your hands to the wall.

“Why would I hurt her or you when you’re so vulnerable and need to be cared for?” The way he stresses that adjective - vulnerable - turns your stomach and your whole body tenses, which he notices, tightening his grip on your wrists.

“See, love, that’s why I had to come back. I said I would come back, didn’t I? To think I’d leave the two of you alone in such a twisted, unsafe world… what kind of man would I be if I behaved like this?”

You swallow hard, unable to look at him as you search for other points to focus on. He notices.

“Don’t you dare look away from me,” he hisses. Your eyes snap obediently away from everywhere else in the room and focus on him. There’s nothing behind his eyes. You want to scream into the endless void you stare into. What happened to him? What happened to your Deku?

“W-what do you want?”

Izuku’s eyebrows furrow, and for a moment, he looks genuinely confused, like a kid faced with a particularly difficult arithmetic problem. You stun him enough with your words that he lets go of your wrists for a moment and steps back, rubbing his chin.

It wasn’t meant to be said harshly - maybe it was your grief that hardened your voice, but he seems to retreat to somewhere deep in his chest, before shaking his head.

He smiles again, that unnatural grin that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I thought I was coming home. Do I need permission to see my family?” he asks in a honeyed voice.

He leans in further, pressing a scarred, calloused hand to your cheek and stroking gently. Once upon a time, you would have leaned into his palm and kissed it, maybe even pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt so that you could kiss him.

But all you can do is freeze, and let it pass.

And he gets impatient. His fingers now pinch instead of caressing; it would be cute, and it was once cute, when he pulled your cheeks like this to steal a kiss, but now the downturn of his lips show that he is trying very hard not to accept the truth that you are rejecting him, or at least the ‘him’ that you see before you now.

His voice flattens.

“You really thought you’d keep me out with those silly trinkets?” he growls. The other shoe has dropped.

“Who made them?” he asks. “Who did you ask to help you keep me out of my own home?”

Izuku’s hands move quickly, now cupping your chin in his hands and pulling you to him roughly as he stands, so that you’re nearly lifted up off your feet. It’s an action that’s lacking any tenderness as though he’ll yank your head clearly off your shoulders.

“Honey? That’s a direct question, not rhetorical,” he repeats.

You don’t utter a single word, and by now he’s beyond frustrated. He lets go of your face and you lose your balance ever so slightly, but before you fall he grabs your wrist again. You pull away reflexively and a flash of anger rises in him, and he pulls even harder, enough that you can feel the tingle of his Quirk intensify.

“Clearly, we seem to be having trouble with intimacy, so I guess we’ll have to address that first before I ask you to communicate basic information with me.” The edge to his voice is palpable but the pain of the pressure he’s putting on your arm is almost worse and you try so hard not to cry out at the sensation of him nearly crushing your bones, knowing very well that this is the least of his rough handling of you for now but then -

“Daddy?”

Your heart stops. Izuku lets go immediately, and you turn around with a gasp to see your little girl, a flurry of nightclothes and curly green hair, leap into his arms without the slightest bit of hesitation.

No, no, no, how… of all the times to wake up! You ignore the dead feeling in your arm to run into him and shove him as he holds your daughter and twirls her around, but he barely feels you, and you practically bounce off of him like rubber on glue.

She barely even notices you fall flat on your ass. Rather, she lets her father give her the affection she’s been missing for months, and you can only watch in abject horror as Izuku throws her up and down in the air a couple times, then asks her if she’s been good.

“Daddy, where’d you go?” She finally asks, once she’s stopped giggling. Her cheeks are rosy and excited and her eyes are bright enough to fill his darkened ones - you clutch your bruised arm and can only watch.

Izuku glances at you then blows a raspberry in his daughter’s neck which has her giggling again.

“Mommy gave me a timeout!” he says cheerfully, holding her close. She nuzzles herself into the security of his chest, and holds tightly.

“Time out?” she murmurs. She clutches at his shirt possessively, and Izuku gives you a look. Your stare becomes hardened - it’s a plea but it’s also a threat that he better not try a single funny thing with her because then fear will give way to desperation and he will have to be prepared to kill you instantly and-

He laughs - it’s less tinny than before, but still it sucks warmth out of the room, unbeknownst to your daughter. “Yeah when you’re bad you get time out!” he reminds her, poking her belly. She laughs again and presses her hands on his cheeks squishing them.

“You can’t be bad!” she exclaims.

Izuku glances at you again, his chuckle drier and his eyes more narrow as he adjusts his baby girl in his arms.

“Well, your mommy seems to think so,” he replies, quieter this time. Somehow, she picks up the serious turn to his voice.

Your baby girl looks at you too, disheveled on the ground and breathing a bit heavier than usual, looking wrong, like a feral creature, the sudden reversal of positions being apparent in such a short time.

She looks into your soul for a moment and furrows her eyebrows. She is thinking - assessing the situation. Her father who she hasn’t seen in quite a while is holding her tightly, her mother sits in a heap and does nothing. It is always too dark in this house these days. She can’t see clearly, not this, not anything.

“That’s not right, Mommy,” she says, finally.

Your heart pounds. You want to charge at him, knowing full well all you will do is traumatize your daughter at best and get yourself killed at worst. You swallow your saliva as your throat is hot and dry.

Izuku grins at you, then pats her hair gently. He sets her down and kneels to her eye level.

“Can you be a good girl for me, sweetie?” he asks.

She nods enthusiastically, clutching fistfuls of her dress to contain her excitement at having her dad home. The longer you watch her beam the more you feel like you want to puke up your insides. What do you do? What do you do?

“Go to your room and I’ll tuck you in in a little bit, okay?”

She nods and runs off immediately, back to the center of the home where you’re not sure how much of the structure still stands appropriately, but Izuku wouldn’t send her where it’s not safe - that’s his little girl after all - and the two of you watch as her small figure disappears.

The moment she’s out of sight, you finally spit up the vitriol that’s been bubbling inside you since that horrible display.

“Fuck you.”

You’re shaking, you are so upset. The thought that he can just barge in here, and put you in an awful situation, making you look like a bad person no matter what you do.

Izuku’s dusky eyes narrow, and in seconds he’s dragging you to your feet and pulling you into the nearest bedroom.

“Gladly.”

It doesn’t matter how hard you kick and scream and protest. Eventually, Izuku gets tired, and throws you over his shoulder, clapping a hand over your mouth. You bite his palm and he barely reacts and instead of biting harder, you break out into muffled sobs. You don’t want to hurt him, it occurs to you. You don’t have the resolve to truly take purchase into his flesh and tear away like a beast.

He throws you onto the bed and locks the door as you bury your face into the bedsheets, continuing to muffle your tears. You’re not crying because you hate him, it’s because you love him still and the situation is so awful and confusing that it’s clear that there’s no way out. You scream and terrify your daughter, and Izuku will make you the problem. If she, by some magic, understands what’s going on, is it worth it for her to develop that same darkness behind your Izuku’s eyes right now?

Izuku snorts derisively as he watches you come undone in your own mind, as the reality sets in that there is truly no way out of this situation. You sob, and you sob and you sob, and he lets you, watching you with neutrality that is so atypical of him. You’re not the first person he’s seen cry, and even if you are the most important person to him, he’s had enough of your tears. Any tears, in fact.

He sits at the edge of the bed until your sniffles die out, then finally runs out of patience.

“Stop it.”

You rise slowly to watch him stare at you, his own eyes red-rimmed. It’s the most emotion you’ve seen out of him since today, but you can’t understand what he’s feeling. You can barely understand your own right now.

You sniffle and he sneers.

“Stop it right now,” he repeats, harshly this time. His lips crash into yours again and he pushes you so that you lay on your back. He tears at your clothes and your defenses, and soon you are kissing back, miserable and pathetic a creature as you are.

He whispers something about loving you and never letting you go, and you don’t have the strength to whisper back but you know it’s true. Your body misses him, misses the heat of his skin against yours and the scrape of his tongue across your nipples. It misses his fingers that tease you apart and make you fall apart, the sensation of being full of love for him and physically stretched and strained to accommodate him. It misses his teeth marking you, palms sliding across every surface.

“It h-hurts, Izuku,” you moan, sucking at his shoulder to distract from the corrupted pleasure. He groans into you as he continues to dig, deeper still when your nails dig into his back, deeper still when your legs tighten around his waist. “It h-hurts,” you murmur into his neck.

“You’ll endure for me, won’t you baby?”

He doesn’t stop; maybe he slows, but he doesn’t stop.

The truth is you will. It’s not the only thing you’ll endure for him, you think as your head swims in desire.

“You feel better than I remember,” he groans into your ear. “Perfectly tight, like you’ve been waiting for me this entire time to reclaim you, haven’t you?”

You sigh deeply and your back arches as you climax. It’s the only answer he needs.

“You’re mine forever, no matter what, aren’t you?” he says.

Till death do we part, you think, and you crash into full, reckless indulgence. Your husband lets out a cry; his hips stutter to a stop and he pumps you full, over and over again, and before you can catch your breath, he begins again. Faster this time.

“I love you. I will love you to pieces,” he whispers into your ear, and for the first time that day, looks at you with his own eyes, the look you remember. Your eyes well up. You’ve missed him terribly.

Your arms wrap around his neck.

“I love you, too.”

There’s catching up to do.

—

Bakugou has not heard from you all morning, and while he tries not to think about it, he can’t help but think about it.

It’s only been a couple hours - he sent the message somewhere around 8 am, knowing that you’re usually up by this time. However, it’s almost 11 am and you should at least be up to take your daughter to school and yet you’ve neglected to respond.

Not even a read receipt.

Oi, just let me know you’ve seen this message, okay? He texts finally, before shoving his phone back into his pocket. There’s quite a few other things he needs to be worrying about today, including tracking members of the second iteration of the League of Villains and figuring out what exactly happened to his friend. You are fine. You have to be, he thinks.

His phone buzzes.

Instead of a message, it’s a video according to the banner. Bakugou hesitates, and there’s a tiny bit of dread as he opens it.

And his eyes widen in horror.

You are wrapped up in white sheets, body facing away from the camera, but he can tell from the transparency that you’re most likely wearing nothing else. By the steady rise and fall of your chest, he can tell you’re still alive, albeit fast asleep. The camera shakes ever so slightly.

From the audio, which he turns up he can hear a voice, Izuku’s voice.

“She’s just fine, don’t worry about us.”

The video ends and Bakugou can feel his blood run cold as his mind begins to race. Before he can play the video again to look for clues, there’s a text message that pops up.

If you text my wife again, I’ll dash your brains on the concrete.

Have a lovely day.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #yandere izuku #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's notes

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dark-fics-4-you · 9 months

Text

Ex Friends with Benefits ch III

dark!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader x dark!Topper Thorton

Warnings: noncon, smut, threesome, drugging, drinking, unprotected sex, cream pie, revenge sex, oral (m!receiving), degradation, guilt tripping

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rafe’s fingers tightened into fists at his side at the mention of your name, lip curling as he frowned. “No, she’s been avoiding me actually, Top.”

“Damn Rafe, I thought you two were finally getting closer,” Topper joked suggestively with a raised eyebrow.

“She’s just playing hard to get. You know how all those uptight rich bitches are. Can’t admit what they actually want,” Rafe replied bitterly and Topper laughed.

You flashed across his memory, the way you used to glance at him secretly when you were with others. How sometimes when you sat by each other while eating, he would trace his fingers across your bare thighs under the table and tease you in front of all of your friends, who were none the wiser to his touches.

Anger rose in him when he remembered the last time he had seen you, how you had told him you wanted a break. Yeah, fucking right.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew what that meant.

You were done with him.

But there was no way in hell that Rafe was done with you.

“Well if I had to put money on it, I’d say she doesn’t want anything to do with you. I bet you finally scared her off with your fucking staring,” at that, Rafe whipped his head at Topper, glaring. But Topper only laughed. “Yeah, of course I noticed that shit too. You’re not exactly subtle, Rafe.”

The Kook king scoffed at that, venom thick in his voice when he hissed back, “You don’t know anything, Top.”

“Oh yeah? Try me, you know I always thought Y/N was sexy as hell,” the challenge in Topper’s voice was clear, and competitive bravado rose in Rafe’s chest.

A sick thought flashed across his mind. One that he couldn’t ignore.

If he really wanted, he could have you so god damn cock drunk you’d let Topper fuck you too.

Sure it might take a little extra liquid motivation, but that was never something you had shied away from.

And besides, Rafe was getting pissed at the fact that you had been ignoring his calls and texts.

How long were you planning on acting like he didn’t exist anymore?

It wasn’t right. You used to be his best friend, the two of you did everything together. He had spent so much time with you recently that he felt empty without you around.

And the fact that you could just break things off like it was nothing? Over one little mistake?

It made his blood fucking boil.

Rafe set up a line quickly, snorting it before he leaned back, expression stormy. He stared at the coke on the table, before his expression changed.

“You should invite her to your party this weekend, Top. I promise you, she’ll be all over both of us,” Rafe smirked, glancing at his friend as his plan came together in his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You smiled at Topper as he returned with your second drink, some fruity concoction that tasted like there was a lot of rum in it.

“Thanks Topper!” You followed him through his house to the living room, snaking your way through his packed house.

You took another swig as you sat down on the couch, eyeing the array of drugs that were laid on the table before you.

“And you’re sure Rafe’s not gonna be here tonight?” You questioned the blond nervously as he sat beside you.

It had been a few weeks since you had last seen him, the night he had pushed your boundaries too far for you comfort. You hadn’t talked with your friend since, too nervous to answer the phone or reach out to him first.

“Um, yeah he shouldn’t be here. But if he is, I’ll keep him away from you,” Topper winked and you chuckled, shaking your head a bit.

You took another sip of your drink, already feeling tipsy, but the night was young and you wanted to get a little high too, so you asked Topper to set up a line for you.

You leaned over the table, snorting the (admittedly large) line

Sniffing, you rubbed under your nose to make sure you got all of it. You had never been one to back away from a challenge.

“Oh fuck, that was a lot,” you laughed as the head rush hit you hard.

“Do you wanna do another?” Topper asked you.

“Shit Top, slow down, gimme a second. You’re tryin to get me too fucked up,” the two of you laughed at your joke, Topper rolling his eyes, but your slight protest didn’t stop him from setting up two more lines.

You reclined against the couch, not surprised when Topper did the same beside you. You could feel the warmth of his leg and torso beside you, and you were surprised when you felt his arm snake around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Is this okay, Y/N? I just get a bit cuddly when I’m high.” Your friend asked, and you hesitated for a second before nodding.

It was just Topper, you reasoned with yourself. He had been in love with Sarah Cameron for years. You knew that this was nothing more than innocent affection.

“Here, have more of your drink,” Topper shifted, reaching to the table to grab your cocktail before handing it to you.

“Ah thanks! I almost forgot about it.” You took a few gulps, enjoying the flavor of the drink Topper had made for you.

You were beginning to feel well past buzzed, the mix of coke and alcohol blurring your vision at the edges. The music in the house was loud, bass thumping against the walls and making your head hurt.

You realized that Topper was talking to you when you heard him repeat your name twice, his hand falling onto your thigh.

“Mm, what?” You turned your head towards him, and he drew closer.

“I said you look really good tonight, I like this dress,” he said, louder, eyes scanning over your body, and you blushed, cheeks hot from the alcohol and his compliment.

Topper was a good looking guy, you had to admit that, but the two of you had been friends for so long that you had never even really considered him in that light before, especially since he had been on and off with Sarah for so long.

“Oh, thanks.” You replied, glancing down at the tight dress you had picked out.

“Do you wanna do that second line now, Y/N?” Topper questioned as his hand began to draw circles on your lower thigh.

“Um, sure,” you answered, and Topper withdrew his hand, leaning over to snort his line first.

“You got it?” He asked, noticing that you were just staring at the line. Your head was swimming.

“Ugh, I don’t know, I feel pretty fucked up already,” you admitted, stumbling over your words already, and your friend frowned.

“C’mon, Y/N, just one more?” He challenged with a grin. “I already lined it up for you and everything.”

“Mmm alright,” you slurred,

This one stung more than the first, despite being smaller.

Your head was spinning, the cold drink in your hand was only only making it worse, and you could barely keep your head up.

“How do you feel?” Topper voice felt both distant and too loud, and you shook your head, leaning against your friend’s chest as you mumbled.

“I- I think I should lie down,” you felt dizzy, the lightheadedness confused you, how were you already this fucked up? You had only had two drinks, but you felt like you had had eight.

“You wanna go somewhere quiet?” The blond asked you and you nodded.

“Can you carry me?” You slurred, you didn’t think you could walk past the end of this room, much less up a flight of stairs to Topper’s room.

“Yeah I got you,” he stood up, bending over to scoop you into his arms before heading to his room.

You cuddled against his chest as he carried you, the drugs were making you feel strange, like you couldn’t remember exactly where you were or what you were doing.

He laid you down onto the bed, carefully removing your heels, and you groggily slurred out a thanks.

“Hold on one second,” he turned away before pulling out his phone and sending a quick text.

You felt comfortable in his large, plush bed but you were taken by surprise when you felt it shift under your friends weight.

You turned to meet his eyes, but he moved faster, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his as his mouth covered yours.

Your eyes shot open, and you opened your mouth to say something, anything, but his tongue pushed its way in, his hand gripping your chin and holding you in place.

Fear and confusion coursed through your body. Why was he doing this? You didn’t think anything of his compliments at the time, but looking back, the pieces were beginning to fall into place.

Had he been trying to get you as drunk as possible just to take advantage of you?

Your mind went blank when you felt his hand creeping under your dress, alarm bells ringing as he pushed the material up to your hips.

You shoved at him, breaking the kiss and gasping for breath.

“Top- mm- stop that-!” your anxious, mumbled pleas fell on deaf ears, his hands grabbing at you rougher when you talked back.

“Shh, Y/N, lighten up, stop being so uptight.” He mumbled as his lips found you neck, and you tensed up completely when you felt him slid your panties to the side before pushing a finger into you.

You gasped at the intrusion, sucking in a breath as tears came to your eyes when he pushed his second finger in.

To your horror you could feel yourself getting wetter, dripping around his fingers as they curled inside you.

The conflicting feelings swirled inside you, the blur of pleasure and panic becoming confusing. Your body couldn’t help but respond to his touch, soft moans fell past your lips in between sobs.

“Shit,” Topper groaned. “I can’t wait any longer.” With his free hand, he pulled his shorts down, stroking himself as he fingered you, before pulling the digits out.

Your stomach dropped, heart pumping in terror as he lined himself up with your entrance.

“T-Topper,” you begged, tears falling past your lashes as your looked up at the blond. “P-please.” You didn’t even know what you were asking him, the inner turmoil of your mind clashing with the primal desires of your body.

For a moment, it seemed like he was conflicted, but resolution set on his face as he gazed into your fearful eyes.

You felt nauseous when he grabbed your legs, easily parting them and bending your knees towards your chest. You squirmed in his grip, but you were too sluggish to stop him.

Topper sunk into you, stretching you out inch by inch. You whined and he shushed you again, this time covering your mouth with his hand.

When his hips met yours, he groaned, voice trembling, “fuck Y/N, I really thought Rafe was exaggerating but I get why this pussy drives him so crazy.”

Your tears were falling much more freely now, his words barely registered in your ears, and you gasped against his hand when he snapped his hips against yours the first time.

It was getting harder to breathe, panic filling your lungs as Toppers hand blocked your mouth. You grabbed at his hand, scratching him and he groaned as he moved his hand from your mouth to your chest.

His hands fumbled with the top of your dress, batting away your hands as you weakly pushed at him before he pulled your tits free, roughly groping them as he fucked you.

There was a movement at the door, and your eyes flicked to the figure in the entryway, new found courage to escape imbuing you. Topper didn’t acknowledge the new person, not even pausing to see who it was.

Your excitement was short lived, transforming in to a sick fear when the man spoke.

“Got your text. I told you she was a good fuck. She’s such a slut, I bet she’s fucking dripping around you right now.”

Rafe’s voice was unmistakable, and when his word’s registered in his ears, you realized with a shock exactly what was happening.

They had laid a trap for you, and you had walked right into it.

“She feels amazing,” Topper groaned, fucking you harder now, cock driving into you at a feverish pace. The pleasure in your gut was beginning to build and to your horror, you could feel yourself getting wetter.

Off to the side, you heard Rafe’s shorts fall to the floor and when you turned your head, you could see him, hard and stroking himself at the sight of his friend taking advantage of you.

He neared the bed and you flinched when his hand tangled into your hair, turning you towards him as he guided himself to your mouth.

When you shook your head, he sighed in disappointment, his next words were cold, “open your mouth, Y/N. Or you’re not going to like it when I take my turn.”

Disgust swirled in your gut and tearfully, you resigned yourself, parting your lips and allowing him to push himself further into your mouth.

Topper groaned at the sight, digging his fingers into your hips harder and glancing down to watch your cunt stretch around him as he plunged his dick into you again and again.

“Fuuck,” Rafe hissed as he began to shift his hips, sliding his dick a bit deeper with every thrust. “I missed that pretty mouth you got, Y/N/N.”

Your stomach twisted at the familiar nickname, one that you hadn’t heard in weeks, as Rafe was the only one you had ever let call you that.

Topper’s cock hit a spot that had you seeing stars, toes curling and thighs trembling as you came. You moaned around the dick in your mouth, and the other blond groaned when you squeezed around him, a gush of wetness allowing him to slide into your cunt easier.

Your jaw ached, scalp burning as Rafe tugged your hair to hold you in place as he fucked your mouth. You gagged when he pushed too far, but he was relentless, taking his revenge on you for keeping yourself away from him for so long.

When he pulled out to give you a breather your relief was slow lived, as Topper closed in, pressing more skin to yours, hands wandering and grabbing at you hungrily.

His pace crescendoed before he reached his peak, lips smothering yours as he groaned, fingers digging into your skin so hard when he came that you knew you would have bruises.

In your drug induced stupor, you finally realized that he hadn’t been wearing a condom when he slowly pulled out and you could feel his sticky cum dripping out of your swollen cunt.

You breathed in shakily, still in a daze about what had just happened. You couldn’t meet Topper’s eyes.

“You’ve had your fun, get outta here, it’s my turn.”

Topper glared at Rafe, opening his mouth to argue, but his friend cut him off.

“Hey, who gave you the drugs in the first place? If I had let you do the dosing, she’d probably never wake up, dumbass,” Rafe snapped.

You felt nauseous again listening to their conversation, knowing that you had trusted Topper completely before tonight, and the idea that either of them would go this far made your head spin.

“Fine,” Topper relented finally, climbing off the bed without giving you a second glance as he grabbed his clothes and began pulling them back on. “And you’re sure she’s not gonna um… remember any of this, right?” He asked Rafe hesitantly.

“Yeah, we gave her a lot already. She’s not gonna remember a thing,” Rafe leaned over his abandoned shorts, grabbing a baggie and a card from his pocket before spilling a little out onto the card. You heard the door close as Topper walked out, leaving you alone and at Rafe’s mercy.

He brought the card to you, helping you sit up and bringing it under your nose as he covered one of your nostrils. You tried to move your head away, but he held you in place, forcing you to take more of what you now weren’t so sure was just coke.

The head rush made you feel dizzy and heavy, and you knew that this time it would be even harder to fight back.

Rafe pushed you back onto the bed, easily batting your arms away as you protested weakly.

“R-Rafe!” Begging did little to deter him. If anything, your pleas seemed to goad him on, relishing the fact that you were so terrified of him.

The blond pushed your legs open, guiding himself between them. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds and you shuddered.

“You know, Y/N/N, it didn’t have to be like this. I was so patient. I made one mistake.” He sneered, voice bitter as he spat the words out.

Rafe forced himself into you, and you yelped at the feel, tears stinging your eyes. His large hand snaked around your throat, squeezing as he slowly filled you to the hilt.

“I have always fucking been there for you. But you threw me out like I was nothing.” The blond seethed. “Like- like the past eight years of our friendship didn’t mean anything to you.”

“P-Please-” you choked out, toes curling at the all too familiar feeling of his cock brushing against your inner walls. He was like a starved man, he couldn’t get enough of you, pushing himself deeper with every thrust.

When he snapped his hips against yours, his pace was brutal and punishing. He was choked you harder now, to the point that you were afraid you might pass out.

You felt like you had been trapped in Topper’s room for hours, the drugs and adrenaline coursing through you made everything feel confusing. Every touch was intensified, like electricity over your skin, the feelings of pleasure and disgust mingling together to the point where you could barely tell them apart.

Rafe’s lips covered yours, sliding against them as his tongue forced its way into your mouth. The feeling was repulsive, all too reminiscent of the many times the two of you had secretly hooked up before.

But this time everything was wrong.

His lips trailed to your neck, hot kisses planted at the spots he knew were the most sensitive. You tried to stifle your gasps of pleasure, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but Rafe knew exactly how your body worked. He had explored every inch until he had each curve memorized, he couldn’t forget you if he tried.

“I wanted you to be my girl, Y/N/N,” he confessed, pain and anger flashing in his darkened eyes.

Your eyes widened at his words, you knew that he had reacted awfully when you tried to break it off, but you had never suspected that Rafe had ever seen you as anything more than best friends who fooled around occasionally.

“It didn’t have to come to this,” he said, as if he genuinely believed that you were in the wrong.

You let out a choked moan when you felt him pressing against your clit, swirling the tender bud as he pounded into you.

The combination of his thick cock sliding into you with the stimulation on your tender bud had you seeing stars. Your toes curled and you bit down on your lip to stifle your moan as you came around him.

Your legs were trembling, pussy twitching and squeezing Rafe’s cock as he fucked you through your high, tears coursing down your cheeks in shame.

“Oh fuck, are you actually coming right now??” He laughed mockingly, a sick pride flashing across his face. “You’re so fucking pathetic, do you have any clue how goddamn wet you are right now?”

You couldn’t respond, brain so fried by the feelings of his dick pushing into you that you could only mewl helplessly, each sound punctuated with the snap of his hips.

He was fucking you frantically now, growling under his breath as you choked his cock, your fingernails gripping his arms to steady yourself.

You were caught off guard when you came again, tightening around him, and crying out his name.

Rafe cursed under his breath at the feeling, hips stuttering as he thrust into you deeper than before, groaning when he came, and you whimpered as you felt him filling you up with his cum.

He was panting, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. You turned your head when you felt him get closer, but he cupped your cheek, allowing himself to press his forehead to yours.

Rafe kissed you softly, much more tenderly than before, but knowing the feelings behind the action made your stomach twist, the innocent kiss tainted by the weight of what he had just done.

“You were mine a long time before you knew you were, and I’m not going to let you just throw that away. This friendship isn’t over until I say it is.”

#ex friends with benefits #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #dark!topper thornton #rafe cameron x reader #topper thorton x reader #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron smut

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where-dreams-dwell · 2 months

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I haven’t read the book and only have vague recolections of the movie (though I remember sobbing violently at several points) but I hoped I’d love Netflix’s One Day adaption. And of course I did but one of the things I loved was so unexpected.

I love how they portrayed Sylvie.

Particularly how that relationship both ended and endured. How even at the start there were issues but the small kind you want to work on and work through. She knew her family were hard work but she was on Dex’s side and wanted him to be accepted: but still knew that her opinion was the one that mattered. Dex knew he didn’t fit it but he was trying so damn hard to, and hoped that if he kept trying it would be enough eventually. And she wasn’t this demon or harpy, even people who just met her liked her. She was a nice person.

So many times when the male lead is with another woman before they eventually get together with the female lead this ‘other woman’ is portrayed as toxic, unmanageable, cruel, snobbish, etc… or even just unpleasant to be around; someone we’re happy for the male lead to leave. Maybe it helps us to support the male leads pursuit of the female lead and not confront his poor behaviour as a romantic partner if that ‘other woman’ is unlikable and we’re happy to see her gone?

But here they made it clear: Sylvie is a kind nice woman who loves Dex, and didn’t handle the crumbling of their marriage well.

It was almost voyeuristic how we saw the breakdown of her and Dex’s marriage. It seemed so bloody real. New baby, no sleep, renovating the house, all of it building up until you’re being a bitch and you know you are, and you’re apologising after the fact for what you said but you don’t know how to talk around the fact that you still meant some of the things you said. And a partner who you know is struggling with direction and purpose, and you want them to do well, but *god* you’re the one fielding questions and having to go to bat for them every time someone asks, and as a result you never feel safe to take a break or question them yourself.

And (I don’t know how intentional this was) but Dex’s joking tone which is clearly meant to relax and reassure just came across as him not taking things seriously or being trustworthy. Sylvie lists a whole range of food options for Jasmine while she’s out for the night, clearly showing she has prepped *everything* ahead of time: she isn’t leaving Dex in charge of finding or cooking Jasmine dinner, she’s leading him by the hand to the ready made stuff and telling him now to reheat it. Kind of like he’s a child too. It really shows how capable she feels he is.

And then Dex jokes about giving Jasmine crisps. He’s clearly trying to break the tense atmosphere and joke around with his wife, but it just comes across as ‘I wasn’t listening to you, I don’t realise how much work you’ve done, you were right not to trust me to cook dinner because look what I immediately suggested, you can’t rely on me’.

In all their conversations the tone of their voices just show they’re not sure how to talk to one another anymore, that they know everything they say will be taken the wrong way and so they have no idea how to speak.

It felt like no one was particularly demonised or made into a caricature. Just two people who were different, put under stress until they broke and grew apart. And Sylvie had been responding to this state of her marriage by having an affair, so she is clearly in the wrong there and the one who causes the divorce etc, but… I don’t know; here it comes across more as a plea for help or freedom in the midst of her confusion and less a lack of care or thought for Dex and her daughter (like I remember it coming across in the movies).

Even when they have the brief mention of dramatics and anger around the divorce, afterwards she’s back in the picture as a level headed co-parent: joking around to relate to Emma, sharing co-parenting pains with HER too (‘Jasmin’s learning the violin?’ ‘Yes that’s why we’re fleeing the country’). And genuinely congratulating them in their relationship and marriage.

You don’t see many ex-wives in media who are so openly concerned about how their ex-husband is handling his second wife’s death. She’s present, caring and supportive. And keeps reaching out to him well after she could be forgiven for stepping back.

So yeah I loved all of One Day and yeah it made me cry AGAIN, but I also loved how real they made those significant relationships look. How adult and complicated and messy and ‘no one was a monster/you were both wrong in different ways/there is no right and wrong’ they played out as.

Just because she wasn’t the ‘love of his life’ doesn’t mean she was a footnote either.

#one day #one day netflix #dexter mayhew #emma morley #Sylvie Cope #relationships in media #the ‘other woman’ trope

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ponderingmoonlight · 8 months

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Lies in the dark

Pairing: boyfriend!Gojo x reader

Word Count: 3,8k

Synopsis: You received pictures of Satoru cheating on you, his longtime girlfriend, with other women. Completely heartbroken you leave him without hearing his side of the story. After weeks of drowning yourself in alcohol, the two of you meet again at Jujutsu High.

Warnings: cheating, language, use of alcohol/drugs, hurt

Your foot tabs against the floor while you wait for his puny figure to arrive in the doorframe. By now it’s far after midnight, actually you are dead tired from all the crying and thinking. But this can’t wait.

“Oh, what a pleasant surprise! I didn’t expect you to be awake this late!”

There he stands, casually taking off his blindfold while blessing you with his best cheeky grin. Satoru’s sight alone makes your gut twist in anger and disgust. He really has some nerves to welcome you like that after all he has done.

“You’re pretty late.”

Your voice sounds so cold that Gojo’s blood freezes in his veins. His smile is washed away in an instant, he has never seen you like this. Has something happened? Are you upset for some reason?

“Why do you look like someone died? I’m home, sweet thing!”

Your emotionless eyes glare at him through the darkness of the apartment. Damn, how could you fall for him and his stupid little game? Did you really believe him when he told you that you are the only one, the one and only woman in his life? Fuck, you were so dumb. Too stupid to realize that it isn’t work that makes him come home this late at night. Your mind is numb to the feeling of being betrayed, it isn’t the first time that you get screwed. But you thought that Satoru is somehow different, that he values your feeling more. Well, so much for that.

“Maybe you’re so late because you were with her, huh?”

He glances at you like he has to think about your words, eyebrows narrowed.

“Who do you mean exactly? Mei is out of town. Oh, I visited Shoko because she patched a student back together, but that was in the afternoon. Or was it? I don’t remember exactly…“

Enough of that bullshit. You don’t offer him any more words, instead you just throw your phone at him. The phone that reveals countless messages about meetings, fucking and mocking with other women, pictures of him caressing their basic faces in the way you knew all too well, giving them the affection late at night that you craved so much. And then the words of the woman that called you earlier…

“When he called me sweet thing I thought I was the only one for him until I saw you two on the streets the other day. He never mentioned he had a girlfriend!”

“I began investigating and as it seems, he had a thing with many other women as well. I’ll send you screenshots of every conversation we’ve had the last couple months.”

Sweet thing. The thought of him using your nickname for other woman makes you want to break down and cry. But even though your heart is shattered into a million little pieces, you refuse to gift him a single tear. No, he doesn’t deserve your agony. He doesn’t deserve to see the feelings you have for him. Instead, you just stare at him with blank eyes while sitting in your chair and watching his blue orbs widen in shock.

“(y/n)”, he breathes out, gaze wandering from the screen to you.

“Let me explain-“

“No need to explain anything. I don’t care about how much I liked you and wished this wasn’t true. I told you I’ll leave you alone if you make me feel this way. And I’m fucking leaving, Gojo. Don’t you dare follow me. Y’know, I’m not your backup plan, good luck with whatever you got going on.”

With a swift motion, you lift yourself off the chair and grab your already packed suitcase.

“You can’t leave without hearing my side! I never cheated on yo-“

“Might be true that there’s always two sides to a story. Fuck your weak ass side tho. I’m done here.”

Heels clicking against the hard floor underneath your feet, you confidently cross the room and expand yourself in front of him. Satoru’s huge frame blocks the door, you can’t just get past him. But you need to get out of this apartment filled with dreadful memories and your shattered hopes as soon as possible before you have a complete breakdown.

“I’m serious Gojo.”

“It’s baby for you.”

“Bet she calls you that too. Get away from the door, we are done.”

“(y/n), hear me out”, his form moves towards you, like a predator approaching its prey.

No, you can’t. You don’t want him to get that close to you. You can’t stand him near you.

“Stay away from me”, you choke out, arms wrapped around yourself in a desperate attempt to console your own aching heart.

“I loved you for 8 years, 8 fucking years Satoru! I gave you everything I had and you trampled on that by fucking another woman so basic that I want to throw up. I have nothing more to say to you, it’s enough that I have to endure the sight of you at every damn meeting of jujutsu sorcerers. Now get.out.of.the.way.”

Your cruel words make even Satoru’s heart jump in agony, his shaky breath fills the air. Do you really want to break up with him without giving him the chance to explain himself? He has so much to say, so much to clarify. Fuck, he could end all this madness and your suffering. But it doesn’t matter. He has no choice but to let you go for the moment. Satoru knows you well enough to be aware of the fact that you won’t listen to him in your wrath, always suborn and confident. Apart from that, he himself has no idea who sent these messages to you and where these pictures come from. He has to investigate the matter first before he can face you again. As much as his whole body struggles against it, he takes a step to the side in order to let you go for the moment.

“I love you with all my heart and I’ll do anything to prove that you are the only one for me.”

Boom.

You close the door behind you noisily. Enough of that lying. You stumble into the fresh air of the night, tears pooling your eyes and taking away your sight. Get a hotel, take a hot shower, turn off your phone. Get over the fact that your boyfriend of 8 fucking years cheated on you, get over the fact that your relationship ended in the foulest way. God, it hurts so bad that you want to break down in the middle of the street, your numb limbs still in shock. But you need to get going. After all, you are a grade 1 sorcerer, everyone counts on your abilities. And a man who doesn’t value you shouldn’t be the reason you forget yourself and your aspiration. _________________________________________________________

Hey girl, need a ride to Jujutsu High? Meeting up in 15 min

You sign at the message of Mei on your phone. It’s been three weeks. Three weeks without seeing Satoru’s cheating face, three weeks in which he called you at least 10 times a day, three weeks of constant crying in the pillows of random hotels and filling yourself up with alcohol at clubs around the town. You feel like crap and look even worse from time to time. But today, you have to get yourself together. For the sake of your job, for the other people you care about like Mei and Nanami. Do all of them know what happened? Probably not, you only told Mei about it and Satoru would hardly admit that he cheated on you multiple times.

Do I really have to?

Your white uniform lies untouched in your suitcase, memories of last mission flood your mind. You were with him, laughing, playing, clapping the asses of multiple curses all at once. Everything was fine, everything was great. Life can change so quickly.

Of course you have to, dumbass.

But you have no other choice. With trembling fingers, you put on the white dress with long sleeves and cut outs that emphasize your curves so well and caught the attention of Satoru first. It fits a little looser than usual. Well, given the fact that you mostly live on drinks that’s no surprise. You put on your round sunglasses to hide the dark circles under your eyes which can be no longer covered by makeup and brush through your hair a few times. Admittedly, you look better than the last few weeks, but definitely worse than usual.

Your cream colored heels click against the marble floor of the hotel lobby as you walk outside, Mei’s car already waiting for you.

“You look better than I thought”, she comments when you sit beside her.

“Thanks I guess, gold digger.”

She gives you a small smile before her eyes get serious again.

“I’m here for you today, ‘kay? Might hire someone who kills him though…”

“You would spend money for me? Damn, you must really like me Mei”, you remark sarcastically.

“I’d do anything for you girl. Let’s get this over with, huh?”

The journey goes by far too quickly for your taste, fingertips already shaking at the thought of seeing his stupid pretty face again. What was he doing all this time? Your gut twists in agony. Probably went out with his other women, what else? Do you seriously think he missed you? That breakup doubtless hurt you ten times more than him. His face will wear the same stupid grin as always, his words will sound just as irresponsible as usual. Everything stays the same. Except for the fact that you aren’t by his side anymore.

“God, since when is this ass so punctual”, Mei hisses.

And there he stand, wearing his sunglasses and uniform, leaned against the doorframe while he probably drives Utahime mad with his mocking. Suddenly you are out of breath, lungs refusing their service as your eyes fill with salty tears again. No, you can’t cry now. You were so cool when you left him. He doesn’t deserve your tears or to see your pain. His cheating ass isn’t worth your throbbing.

“Keep it cool”, Mei speaks out with low voice.

Yes, you need to keep it cool. Straighten your back, swing your hips, show him that you don’t care about him at all.

“What’s up everyone”, you snort out, hand resting against your hips while eyeing everyone except Satoru.

“Wow, you’re early. Since when do you come on time?”, Nanami dryly responses.

“Why so rude, Kento? I thought you’d be happy to see me again, we are best friends since school after all!”

“You are a pain in the ass, (y/n).”

Fuck, you can feel his eyes almost eating you up. Your cheeks begin to burn just by the thought of it.

“Are you alright, (y/n)? You look a little thinner than last time”, Utahime comments, turning away from Satoru.

You swallow hard, panic rises inside your chest. For the first time, you don’t want everyone’s attention on you. Come on, just that meeting. An hour and you’re rid of him, an hour and you’re holed up in a random club again.

“You’d lose some weight too if you were me, Utahime. Now stop looking at my perfect ass and get going.”

Your remark catches everyone off guard, especially Satoru and his guilty conscience. For your standards, you look absolutely horrible and your answers have lost their bite. You are just the shell of yourself that slightly smells like alcohol.

“Hey, if there’s something going on…You know we can talk, right?”, Nanami discretely murmurs into your ear, worry lines draw his face.

“Thanks man, I don’t need anybody but myself though.”

And with that, you turn on your heels and walk through the door. Away from his hungry sight, away from their annoying questions. One damn meeting to get over with. One.damn.meeting.

“You look like shit”, Masamichi notes dryly while watching you sit down.

“Stop being so fucking annoying or I’ll quit”, you bark back, glaring at him through the shade of your glasses.

“What’s up your ass, (y/n)? You’re annoying as hell, but in another way. Are you alright?”

You can’t take it anymore. All the questions and fucking looks. As if the slight change of your appearance is the only thing that’s interesting at the moment. Yeah, you are as fine as you can be, on the brick of tears, mind racing just by the thought of Satoru looking your direction, let alone talk to you. But that’s none of anyone’s business. If you have to repeat one more time what happened a few weeks ago you’ll probably break down.

“Stop asking questions and get this meeting over with, I’m not payed enough to be here”, Mei interrupts and positions herself beside you.

It’s all a blur. The words that come out of his mouth seem to fade away before hitting your ear. All you can think about is Satoru who sits towards you, eyes darted on your figure. You don’t have to look at him to be aware of the fact that he is eyeing you up and down, waiting for a chance to talk to you.

Over the last couple of weeks, he tried to call you multiple times, not scared by the fact that you blocked him on every possible communication way the slightest. Why does he have to keep rubbing salt in the wound? The moment your phone rings and his name appears on the screen, you relive the fateful moment of realization over and over again, imagining him fucking another woman mercilessly while you sit at home and wait for him to come back. You know that you are too good for that, that the best thing you could do was leaving his cheating ass as soon as possible. But in your lonely nights when returning from a random club after talking to random strangers you find yourself lying in bed and cry your heart out over the relationship you thought was the best thing that could have happened to you.

“(y/n)?”

“Ayo, you there?”, Mei murmurs into your ear and punches your arms slightly.

You have to blink the pain away, still consumed by Gojo’s presence. Your heart skips a beat. Was someone talking to you?

“I just wish I was somewhere else”, you mutter, eyes directed to the ground.

Fuck, you feel like crying all over again. Why does it have to hurt this bad? Why does he have to be here, eying you up and down as if you were his prey? Why did he have to cheat on you and destroy the live you built together? All of that isn’t fair. You shouldn’t be sitting here, running on drinks with a few hours of sleep a week and a bleeding heart while he seems to be just fine. Your conscience shouldn’t weigh on you when you’re talking to a guy while Satoru is fucking his way through the world.

“(y/n)?”

Your name out of his sinful mouth makes your gut turn in disgust, you feel like throwing up.

“Get my name out of your dirty mouth”, you jeer at him, eyes yanking up to notice that he’s already staring at you with his face all serious.

You can’t take it anymore. With shaky legs you lift yourself up, leaving the room with fast steps. The tears in your eyes start to burn their way through your face and take your sight completely. After all, maybe you aren’t strong enough to simply get over his betrayal. God, you loved Satoru with all your heart. In all these years there was never another guy you even found attractive. You were so loyal, in love and fucking dumb. Too dumb to realize that he in fact does seem to think that you are replaceable.

“Get your ass back in, Gojo. I dare you!”, Mei’s voice threatens from afar.

“(y/n), please hear me out. Give me a chance to explain!”

No, no, no. You can’t bare him near you, let alone hearing your name out of his mouth. You need to leave and never return.

“(y/n)!”

You feel his grip around your left wrist, his touch burning like acid on your highly sensitive skin. God, how often you longed for his touch, to feel his tender fingertips one last time. But this is not right. The thought of his hands caressing you after fondling with other woman makes you want to vomit and burn alive.

“Get your dirty hands off me!”, you cry out, other hand slapping against his cheek at high tempo.

His infinity doesn’t stop your fist from hitting his face with full force. You stare at his motionless figure, breath hanging heavy between the both of you.

“Please, give me a minute to explain. The last few weeks were absolute hell for me and I’ve been dying to see you today.”

Hot tears swell up your eyes once more while agony seems to consume you all over again. Hell for him? What about you? The constant feeling of not being enough, the questions lingering your mind how long this has been going on behind your back, the endless waterfall of tears, not being able to drink enough to forget him.

“You have to be kidding. Tell me you’re not serious about that bullshit. Hell for you? You fucking ripped be apart, Satoru! You throw our life away for sex with a few young chicks! You have no right to be sad about anything!”, you scream on top of your lungs, fighting desperately to escape his scorching touch around your wrist.

“I didn’t cheat on you, (y/n)! I-“

“So I’ve been imagining these pictures of you on top of that slut and the countless messages? Stop this shit right now! You’ve done enough. You-“

“Listen to me, damn it!”, he yells, ruffling his messy hair.

Why? Why does he have to keep rubbing salt in your already throbbing wound? Everything was just fine, you two were inseparable. What about growing old together? What about building a live together? All that, gone in the wind. Just because he decided to fuck someone else.

“The man you see on these pictures isn’t me, I don’t know these women, (y/n). I began to investigate. The man you see is a cursed spirit, a damn strong one that is able to take on the appearance of other living being, including my handsome self. I wish I could tell you why, I wish I could tell you who the hell that woman is. We assume that someone wants to set you off against me so that we both get vulnerable.”

He tears the blindfold from his face, revealing tears that glister in his glossy eyes. Your heart sinks, all you can do is stare at him in a desperate attempt to understand what he’s saying. Can it…be true?

“We?”

“Nanami helped me out. He knows this technical stuff better than I do. (y/n), I would never hurt you like that, not in a million years. You mean everything to me, it kills me to see you hurt like that, even though I absolutely understand why you believed in all of this and didn’t wanna talk with me. Just please, I’m begging on my knees if I have to, give me a chance to find out more about this madness and trust me with this one.”

You don’t know what is happening to you, it feels like you’re going to puke. Is this really true? Did he in fact not cheat on you with these women? His explanation sounds plausible and the shimmer in his eyes tells you that he’s not lying. Satoru was always bad at not telling the truth, his pupils always widen. Not right now though.

You want to collapse on the floor, your head seems to weight a ton from all these emotions, thoughts and possibilities.

“Why didn’t you tell me right from the start?”, you blurt out, voice coated in anger.

“Would you have really listened to me if I had no evidence? I took photos with that thing and couldn’t hold myself back from killing that fucker. Nanami was with me. Please, (y/n). Please believe me.”

You take in the pictures, how there seems to be two Gojo’s in each one. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is all too much. You don’t know what to think or feel. Is this true? Is there really something like a spark of hope left for your relationship?

“No”, you confirm.

You close your eyes for a moment to organize your thoughts and calm your breathing. All this time, Satoru never showed any interest in other woman, he doesn’t even stay in contact with Mei or Shoko regularly. He has no problem with you using your phone to write messages to Nanami or Yuji when he’s busy with something else. No, since you’ve known him, there was never a cause for concern. Satoru tells you over and over again how much he loves you, sometimes you even thought that he might be obsessed with you.

Maybe he didn’t cheat, maybe he did. But doesn’t your longtime boyfriend deserve a trust bonus, a chance to show you that nothing ever happened between him and these women?

When you open your eyes again, they are pooled by tears. Since that dreadful evening, you never allowed yourself to miss, let alone think about him. You tried to drown your feelings in alcohol and drugs. But now he’s standing in front of you, everything could be fine, all of this could be nothing but a failed attempt to separate the two of you. Deep within, you always hoped for it to be a nightmare, a stupid misunderstanding. Is that all it is?

“I-I thought I’ve l-lost you forever”, you stutter.

He doesn’t hesitate. In an instant he pulls you into his arms, presses your body against his beating heart and trembling frame. God, how much you missed getting lost in his warm embrace, to feel his breath brush against your ears. Just now you realize how much it killed you to be away from him.

“Can’t imagine how much I missed you. The thought of losing you…”, his voice breaks and so does your heart.

“I love you Satoru. I love you more than anything else.”

You get lost against his lips, put all the grief of the last weeks into this one kiss.

“Let’s get home, shall we?”, he whispers against your lips.

“Home. Yeah, that sounds pretty good…”

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