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reiderwriter · 2 months

Note

Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3

(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon

A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡

Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.

Masterlist

The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar.

You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team.

A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one.

You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance.

“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips.

“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.”

The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals.

“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.”

Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat.

He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses.

“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.”

That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware.

Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling.

“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.”

The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely.

All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief.

He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip.

You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity.

Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much.

Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place.

“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax.

“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door.

“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.

“My… my what?”

“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”

“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips.

Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures.

“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?”

“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.”

He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace.

Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that.

He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after.

When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things.

You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location.

You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation.

You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places.

So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating.

You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds.

You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night.

It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there.

Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones.

You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case.

“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs.

“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.”

You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction.

Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch.

Or a pedestrian.

The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights.

“We're here.”

“Great. Let me walk you in.”

In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment.

“Okay.”

Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.

“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him.

“About what, Y/N?”

He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow?

You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you.

“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible.

“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-”

You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you.

“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it.

“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?”

His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly.

Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered.

“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.”

Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours.

He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.

“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust.

“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there.

“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that.

Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture.

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?”

“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”

“Good girl.”

He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you.

You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically.

“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.”

Your mouth fell open as you registered his words.

“You're being an ass.”

“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”

“Spencer!”

“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”

His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still.

“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”

You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip.

“Yes, Spencer.”

“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”

He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly.

By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you.

He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal.

“No clothes, Y/N.”

“I know.”

“Underwear is clothing.”

“I know that, too, Spencer.”

“Then take it off.”

You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor.

“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties.

“I also said no clothes.”

“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”

His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way.

He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets.

You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back.

“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you.

“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers.

“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?”

“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.”

He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him.

“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely.

You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you.

“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.”

When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment.

He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched.

“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips.

You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could.

“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.”

You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant.

You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night.

Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat.

His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations.

“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust.

“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.”

His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick.

You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted.

“Fuck, Spencer.”

“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”

With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body.

You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you.

The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose.

You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in.

Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space.

“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep.

“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.

“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.”

“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth.

But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh.

“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom.

“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.”

“I know, I'm going to stay.”

“In the bath?”

“In the bath.”

“Good.”

And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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m0nsterqzzz · 1 month

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word count: 3k

- Liar Liar -

Wanda Maximoff x reader

summary - in which, you stumble upon the most beautiful woman you've ever seen while in search of a job you can put your piano skills to use at. The only thing? She's a teacher who thinks you're in search of lessons. All's far in love and music right?

a/n - wanda + music = me fucking dying. lol. haven't updated in a while that's my bad. i love you guuuuyyyyyysss.

⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ

You hadn’t meant to lie.

You’d went into the slightly shady neighborhood in search of a job, preferably one that let you play piano- your passion- and still had a decent amount of pay so you would be able to afford that apartment you got recently.

It’s a small town though, and no one really has any need for music as they own record players and other forms of listening devices. No one cares about classical music anymore.

Maybe you should have listened when your father told you music would never be a good career.

So you gave up hope, walking downtown to the store to get a simple and cheap frozen dinner that you could watch while sulking in front of the tv. Being an adult is hard, and you often find yourself wondering what you would do if you had just been given one chance to go back in time and not rush growing up.

You heard the familiar and peaceful sound of piano, and just like anytime you hear it, you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk to simply listen. There’s a small store next to all the tall and beautiful ones, one that probably gets lost a lot in the sight of all the other, more important buildings. A young woman is sitting inside near the front, visible through the big glass window that you silently watch her through. Her skilled fingers dance across the keyboard, creating an aura in the world that has you stuck in a magical trance.

The song slowly goes quieter, and you watch her take a deep sigh before turning her head to look out the window- as if knowing you were there. You panic, blushing in embarrassment before you pretend to read the signs taped to the door.

A bright smile graces your face as you actually begin to read them. A few of them just talk about upcoming concerts in town square, but one big one smack dab in the middle catches your eye;

Hiring!

Tutors, managers, cleaners

$16.45 a hour

It’s not a lot of money, but it’s enough and you’d get to do what you love while seemingly getting to hang out with a pretty girl. It’s a win, win, win. For you.

“Sorry. That sign is old. My friend was supposed to take it down.” Someone quietly speaks beside you, and you almost jump in fear when you see that the woman you had previously been looking at through the window is now standing right next to you, staring blankly before she tears the sign off the door. She’s even more pretty in person, from her long auburn hair to her piercing greens eyes that most people would fear as she stares at you silently though all you feel is nervous and giddy.

“Right…well….do you still have any openings?” You ask, placing your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your heels. She watches with curious eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

She answers quietly, a stark contrast to your happy mood, though she doesn't exactly seem upset. More like calm. “Yes. Lessons are 10 dollars for an hour and a half.”

You frown in confusion. Does she think you’re looking for a teacher? You go to tell her you’re looking to be a teacher, but your eyes fall on the little picture on the door that has a photo of her next to a few others of other people. Under her’s is the title; “owner and teacher”

“Would you be my teacher?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, so you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else.

The girl’s lips turn upwards in the beginning of a smile. “Yes. I would.”

You practically grin, and it’s like you don’t even remember the several years of college you went through to get a career in music as you say, “Then I’d like to take lessons from you. I like piano. I want to learn how to play.”

She does smile now, nodding as she opens the door which makes the bell above it ring. “That’s great. Follow me and we’ll get you signed up.” You do follow her inside, taking in the beauty of the hidden shop. There are pianos and other instruments everywhere, ones that look worn out yet still pretty. Open songbook’s litter every open space and she gets to the front desk before digging through a pile of them for the forms you need to sign.

After signing way to many forms and paying a small fee, you shake her hand with the one that isn’t cramping.

“Thank you for choosing Scarlett's Melodies. I’m Wanda Maximoff. I own the shop and tutor most of the students.” You smile, squeezing her hand before you awkwardly place your hand in your pocket and introduce yourself.

Wanda. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

You obviously don’t say that though. Anxiety exists yall.

Instead you leave with a new found pep in your step.

That is until you remember that you just spent a ton of money and don’t even have a job. Wow. What the fuck is Wanda Maximoff doing to you?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you have to get a job, so you get one at the nice restaurant in town that your friend works at. You spend most of your day serving customers, taking orders, and cleaning, and the only reason you continue to do it is that every other day, you just have to think about the fact that once work is over, you get to go see the beautiful piano teacher.

It’s not hard to play down your skill, but it is a little bit funny every time you slip up and tell her you already know something and then have to make the excuse that you’re doing some studying on your own time as well.

Wanda has a sweet personality, though she is a bit cold and standoffish sometimes. You learn a lot about her over the past few weeks though, like her late brother Pietro, her friends Natasha and Clint who are also workers at the store, and how she came to love music so much as to start up her own store for it.

“You’re late.” She says when you run in six minutes past the time you’re supposed to be there, but her tone is light and teasing as she scans through some notes on her sheet music. She lets you take them home sometimes to study them, but you mostly just study her pretty handwriting and the little doodles she leaves for you to find.

You chuckle, taking off your coat and hanging it up next to her leather jacket near the door. The place is cozy and if not for the workers constantly running in and out, you’d say it feels more like a home than a store.

“Sorry. I was at work.” She nods as you speak, handing you a book she made more notes in before pointing over to a piano set up against a wall. It’s nicely toned and made of a beautiful wood, and once she learned it was probably your favorite, she “teaches” you at that one every single lesson.

You sit on the bench, trying your hardest not to blush when she rubs her hand on your back before sitting closely next to you. It’s one of your favorite parts of the lessons- when she sits close enough that you can smell her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of sage, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite scents.

“We’re gonna work on something a bit harder today alright? I think you can do it, but the notes are in a slightly weird pattern and may be hard to remember.” Wanda says, flipping to a page in the book before setting it up on the music rack.

It’s one of your favorites and quite easy to play after years of practicing, but you don’t tell her that.

By the end of the almost two hour lesson, you have pretended to learn the first part of the song, purposefully messing it up every once in a while so you don’t expose yourself.

You’re starting to feel a bit guilty about the lying, but then she smiles proudly and showers you in compliments and you forget all about it.

Wanda walks you to the door, leaning on the wall as you put on your coat and grab your stuff. You’re tired, but that feeling doesn’t even begin to compare to the one that comes when she holds your hand and smiles towards you.

“There’s a small event in town this weekend.” She starts, pointing towards the sign up on her big bulletin board. “A few people playing pieces, some nice food. I think you should join. You’re one of my most advanced students.”

You grin, hesitantly nodding. “I’d love to. That sounds like so much fun.”

The redhead nods as well, smiling slightly as she writes your name down on the sign up sheet. You’ll play after a few other students and teachers, and you must tell her what piece you want to play by tomorrow so you can spend the next few lessons practicing it.

With that you say your goodbyes, lingering in a hug with the Maximoff girl before you finally leave, walking home with a love sick smile on your face. Little did you know, the same one is gracing Wanda’s face as she closes up the shop and makes her way home.

— – — – — – — – —

When the day of the concert comes around, you’re nervous.

You don’t know why. You could play this piece in your sleep, but for some reason, the same nerves that were with you during your first performance as a child are now fluttering around in your stomach as you sit on a piano bench in the town square.

Wanda is talking with some of the other students, and you try and distract yourself by looking at her with adoration in your eyes, but it all comes back at a higher level when she notices you and winks your way.

She’s so pretty, and you fight the urge to slam your head on the instrument as she finishes up her conversation and begins walking towards you.

“Hey hon. How you feeling?” Wanda stands behind you, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she reads over the notes on your sheet music. You shrug, blushing brightly at her touch as you pretend to be focusing on smoothing out your shirt of non-existent wrinkles.

“I’m okay. Kinda nervous.” You say, and the blush only deepens when she hums in understanding and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re going to be great.” Her words make you grin, and you lean your head back to rest on her stomach as she gently runs her fingers through your hair. Someone calls her name, so she gently caresses your face before patting your back and walking away.

Oh the things that Wanda Maximoff does to you.

While you’re waiting for your turn on stage, you get bored, so you sit back on the bench and begin to quickly play through one of the hardest songs you know. It took forever to learn and you still mess up every once and a while, but it still would sound beautiful to anyone and by the end of it, you do hear someone slightly chuckle in shock.

It isn't a happy laugh or happy shock though. That much you can tell.

“I didn’t teach you that.” A slightly bitter tone speaks, and you slowly turn around to come face to face with Wanda, fists clenched at her sides and a curious but slightly annoyed expression on her face.

You want to continue to lie, to tell her you’ve been working hard and her lessons are paying off, but no one who’s only been playing for a few months would be able to play that and she obviously knows the truth now.

“You wasted my time.” She says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s no longer the bubbly girl you’ve come to have the pleasure of knowing, instead going back to the closed off woman you first met. It’s all your fault.

You look down in shame, letting the bouquet rest by your side. “I’m so sorry Wanda.”

Wanda scoffs, glaring at you before she storms out of the room. She’s pissed, but a warm feeling settles in her chest at the knowledge you went through all of this to hang out with her, even with the thought that you don’t have a chance with her. You still wasted her time though, and you lied to her for weeks, almost months. How can she trust that you truly aren’t just some psycho?

You stay in the middle of town square, tears forming in your eyes as more and more people gather to listen to the other pianists. You’re falling in love with Wanda Maximoff, and up until this point, it’s only ever been clear and sunny skies. What are you supposed to do now that your first cloud has appeared?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you stop going to your lessons.

Wanda finds herself missing you every time 6 o’clock comes around and you don’t come sprinting into the shop with your work uniform still on, rambling about something a stupid customer did like you’ve known Wanda forever. It feels like that, that’s for sure.

You spend every day in an endless cycle. Get up, go to work, walk the long way so you don’t risk running into Wanda outside of her music store, work a nine hour shift, and return to your quiet apartment where you sit in silence and mourn for someone that still lives.

Maybe you should adopt a dog.

One especially rough day, you wake up late, your alarm clock having turned off during a storm last night and reset itself all while you were asleep. Because of this, you wake up with five minutes to get ready and even less time to sprint to work, so you can’t take the long way like you usually do.

It’s lightly sprinkinly outside, so you don’t bother taking a jacket in the midst of chaos. That was clearly the wrong decision, as only a few minutes into your walk there, it starts absolutely pouring, and just like that, your uniform is soaked and you’re shivering. You don’t have any time to go back though, so you fight on, staying right next to the buildings for a bit of protection and you don’t even notice the person carefully watching you as you fastly walk down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” Someone calls out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a familiar building. It’s calm and quiet music is playing somewhere, but all you can focus on is that Wanda is standing in front of you, holding out a dry towel for you to grab.

You hesitate, grabbing it and holding it closely around your body in hopes of stopping the cold feeling in your bones. It’s much warmer in here and the only rain is tapping against the window from outside, but Wanda is here and she looks at you with a type of distaste you’ve never seen before.

“I need to get to work. I’m late.” You mumble eventually after a few minutes of silence, but she just puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs them to bring you more warmth as she replies calmly, “No. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

You go to argue, but she simply shakes her head and sits down at your piano on the other end of the room. She begins to play a simple but calm song, and she watches in the corner of her eye as you sink down on the couch next to the fireplace and slowly close your eyes. You’re still awake though, that much she can tell by the way your fingers tap along to the pattern of the music.

Finally she slowly stops the song, letting her hands fall to rest on her thighs as she stares at the keyboard with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would you lie to me?”

You open your eyes, watching with a guilty but sincere look as she chews on her lower lip and gently presses a few of the keys. “I’m truly sorry Wanda. I figured if we spent that time together, I would be able to learn more about you…in hopes of eventually asking you out. It was stupid, and wrong, and I’m sorry.”

She sighs, closing the keyboard cover and turning to face you. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Is she messing with you?

Wanda continues, “If you had just told me all of that when we first met, we could have gone out and gotten dinner or- or lunch or on a picnic like normal people.” You nod along, silently fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. “So go ahead.”

You’re silent for a second, looking around as if wondering if she’s talking to you to which she giggles and nods. That laugh could fix all your issues.

“Wanda Maximoff, I’d really like to get to know you. The right way this time. Will you go out with me?” You ask nervously after clearing your throat and sitting up in your seat.

Wanda smirks, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. “I don’t know…”

You laugh a bit when she does, though you’re too busy smiling brightly as she nods. “I’d love to go out with you. No lying to me this time though. And you have to teach me that song you were playing at the recital.”

“No way. A magician never reveals their secrets.” You tease, sitting next to her on the bench as she laces your hands together and says with her own smile, “Oh really? So I just agreed to a date for nothing? You’re mean.”

All is fair in love and music though.

⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ

#wanda maximoff x you #marvel x reader #marvel #the scarlet witch x reader #the scarlet witch #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel x you #piano

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glasscleanerbandung · 2 years

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momotorin · 21 days

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you cling to your papers and pens (wait until you like me again)

sana x fem!reader — angst, fluff | cw: mention of cigs, weed

it's been a rough, gruesome six months. you've locked yourself away from everyone else, only focused on your work to keep your expenses in the living range, barely eating with the empty bottles of jack daniel’s and soju lying around the dinner table properly like it's your personal bar.

“holy shit,” your friend, nayeon laughs as she sees your wrecked state. “you look like shit,” she says as she walks in, removing her white leather shoes and tucks them away neatly at the step beside the doorway. “your house looks like shit,” she sighs, taking the bottles of alcohol away from your table to your kitchen top. “everything’s shit.”

“don't need to point out the obvious,” you sighed and followed, also cleaning your mess one by one. “i just want my life back, you know?”

she just laughs as she helps you wipe down the mess on your table, “no, you want sana back.”

“well,” you sighed deeply at the memory of what you once, well, whom you still love. “i don't know. she can't leave me like this when i didn't expect that this would happen.”

nayeon was one of the people whom you ranted and cried to the moment sana went m.i.a on you. honestly, you didn't even know the reason why she did. the days before that event of her leaving, you two were happy; you cooked breakfast together, you kissed every time you wanted to, you made love in every corner, you two talked about the most random shit in the world, you rode bikes beside the river, you went on dates, rarely fought, and solved everything by communicating— like in a deep, boundless honeymoon phase.

with sana, you thought that it was never-ending. unconditional. something you could never find everywhere, even if you tried to scurry the ends of the earth for a similar feeling.

but then, on one winter night, just a few days before her birthday, she disappeared like white smoke as cold as your breaths when you cried and screamed her name in the streets of seoul.

up until now, you call her number, text her number, go to the firm she works at (well, it's unavoidable, your workplace was across the street.), text her friends (which, were also your friends and had no clue that sana also left.) hoping for a little update from her, and why she left you.

after hours of cleaning, you finally found yourself satisfied with the step of making (at least) your house a little cleaner. now, everything's clear to you; how sana left you with an empty home— an empty dinner table, an empty bed, an empty sofa, an empty heart. you went into tears remembering almost everything like it all washed, crashed, and flashed in front of you.

she left you with ghosts that you didn't know how to manage, and you're the only one left to deal with it.

does it haunt her the way it does to you? you cursed that she’d be so haunted by it and come running back.

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

on the other side of the world, there's 8 empty bottles of wine on a kitchen top, a woman holding a glass as she wakes up from her ‘nap’ that lasted 8 hours on her couch.

new york. there was sana in the middle of a seemingly concrete jungle, the buildings looming into her as she walks, bigger than anything else she's seen before.

but, this was her escape. she didn't even know what she would escape from.

she confided in the wine glasses, pouring both cheap and expensive wine in one night, crying and lulling herself with your voice in her messages to sleep. it didn't help that it was cold, and your embrace was the only thing that she can ever confide in. it was awful too, how the memory of you talking about new york haunts her, how she imagines you in every street, in every store, in every corner of it and how much you'd enjoy it both.

she doesn't know why she needs time if she chooses to hurt. she's so afraid of the fact that she'll break you, that she can never give what you want.

she found a small, blue velvet box in your cabinet as she wanted to steal one of your hoodies (which happens more often than not) which sent chills to her spine. you wanted to marry her.

at first, she didn't really mind as maybe you'll give it another time, or maybe it's a different ring. but you've been hinting about it ever so slightly since, and that just kept her away. she didn't even know why she was so afraid of telling you just that.

but sana's smart enough to catch on, hearing you on a call with your friend at 3am, talking about the ring, and how you'd give it to her on her birthday, basically like a double thing where you'd propose and surprise her.

on the 28th, she decided, taking one of your hoodies with her as her pairs of shoes, clothes, things, and she herself, leaves your shared home.

she sighs, putting the wineglass to a safer place, her coffee table. it doesn't help that the layout of her flat was so similar to your shared home, and she sometimes just wakes up with tears in her eyes, knowing that she had dreamt about you.

she doesn't know. what she knows is that your hurting at the same time she was hurting.

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

“we're going to relocate you to new york for this project,” your boss says as he slides you a thick pile of manila folders, supposedly from the new client. “they liked your portfolio.”

“okay,” you leaned back at the cushioned chair. “what are the conditions?”

“what they've said is that you’ll be on the project for the whole duration,” your boss sighs against his own chair. “and then they’ll put you on their team of other architects in new york. they have a similar style than yours, but they'd make you the head.”

“when will i meet them?” i asked. “i mean, before i fly, there's an initial meeting, right?”

“it’s gonna be on friday,” your boss says. “read the profiles on those so that you could get a rough draft of what they want from you.”

“and surprisingly, they wanted me,” you laughed over the phone at just how ridiculous it was. you haven't had any big projects since six months ago, which was your break-up. you refused to accept, but then, this one's different. “plus, it's a two year contract. they want me there until the building stands upright.”

your friend, momo, laughs in absolute delight. “great. you'd meet me often then,” she joked, but then, you don't see why not. “and, i assure you that i've got the stuff, you know? girls, booze, and even the devil's grass— i have them.”

“god, can you calm down for a second, i'm not even there yet,” you joked back. “wait, isn't weed illegal in new york?”

“yeah, it is,” momo chuckles. “well, you've got to get your ass to other states too to live a little. that's why it's called the united states of america, not united state of new york.”

“i can't believe you can't even stay still,” you sighed over the phone. it was a classic, momo was an adventurer all on her own, so you couldn't blame her. “anyways, meet me at the airport, okay?”

“yes, sure,” she sighs over the phone too. you could just feel the eye roll from thousands of miles away. “you better get me what i've said to you.”

“of course,” you affirmed. it was a list of her favourite snacks and some other asian kitchen staples, since she does cook often. “half of my luggage is like your stuff. don't even complain if the jjapaggeti noodles are broken.”

“yeah, whatever,” momo chuckles over the phone. “just bring yourself here in one piece. you already have a place?”

“yup,” you breathe, remembering how much you were looking forward to that house. it was supposed to be your home after you've proposed to sana. “i, um, kept it for a while.”

“alright,” momo replied. “i gotta go.”

you then smiled, “okay, see you.”

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

momo fetches you from the airport with a silly little sign that read: “WELCOME TO NEW YORK Y/N!” then, she happily shows you around the new york city like a tourist before going home.

“is this it?” momo asks, looking up through her window to see if she was in the right apartment complex.

you nodded and said, “yes, this is it.” you smiled as you got off the car, helping momo unload the luggage. you took out a big bag and a small plastic bag out of your luggage, and gave it to momo who was already smiling with joy. “snacks.”

“you're my bestest friend ever.” she says, quite sarcastically as she loads the stuff back to the backseats of her sedan. “you really sure that you can't spend the night out?”

“i need to deal with the jetlag first,” you explained as you closed your luggage. “plus, i have a meeting tomorrow. i need to deal with that first.”

“okay,” momo smiles and hugs you. “just give me a call whenever you need someone, okay?”

“yes, yes,” you smiled and hugged her back. “you go home now.”

“yup,” she says, going back to the driver's seat. “good night, y/n!”

you smiled and waved at her until she disappeared from the street, as now you're left with your heavy luggage and your stuffed backpack. you get your keycard from your wallet and slowly went up the stairs, having a breath of relief seeing the entrance to go up the complex.

it had an elevator, luckily, it was working, and you pushed the button to the 4th floor. your door was to the left, a huge studio unit facing the street. although it isn't that busy, you really liked it as there were trees, and it was downtown.

god, you wished that sana could live in this beauty with you. the apartment, by your design, had taken inspiration from the 60s, mid century modern at it's very best. you turn on the lights to see the furniture still covered with what you left it.

you quickly remove it to take a seat on the sofa. you couldn't believe just how much it feels this big. it was like someone was meant to be beside you, but now you're left all by yourself.

the big windows show just what's outside. another complex, another window, weirdly, your neighbor's windows were open. you didn't have your glasses on, so you didn't really mind, but there was a woman who held a glass of wine, her hair tied into a bun as she read a book. it was a quiet life, and you were sure of it.

you take out something from your backpack, a little journal for your sketches. you draw the lines of your window, and draw the woman just across you. you don't know her, but you smile at the sight of her just turning pages and drinking her wine. you finished your sketch, smiling, and you passed out on the same sofa.

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

sana, after a while of drinking wine and reading, takes a look across the road. it's the first time she sees the lights open from the neighbor's window, and she sees just how big the windows were compared to hers. must've been great to live there as she sees the furniture. it looks like a damn museum in soho.

she doesn't miss the sight of a person, still wrapped up in their most uncomfortable clothes, a brown, long trench coat, dress pants, and a dress shirt; passed out on the sofa. that's how she remembers you sleeping when you've had a bad, excruciating day from your work, and she chuckles at it. she must've been so drunk to think that it was you, so she gets her eyeglasses.

“fuck.” she cursed. she rubs her eyes in disbelief, maybe she's going crazy that now you haunt her. “fuck, this can't be.” she slaps herself, trying to make sense of it all as she hurriedly closes her windows shut.

she knows you've had a couple of apartment complexes in new york way before she ghosted you. she knows that you own several here— one in the upper west, one in soho, and this one, all of it being rented. she was going crazy and filled her wineglass again, trying to relieve her veins.

she couldn't sleep that night without trying to look at the other side. seeing you sleep like that, so uncomfortable and busy. her heart aches as she still knows just how much your forehead creases like that, at just how much she knows your heart sleeps heavy too. she wants to hold you like she always does, and wants you to let it all out on her.

sana cries herself to sleep that night.

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

you wake up to the bright sunlight seeping into the corners of your home. you even forgot to take out the lights before you slept so uncomfortably on the sofa. you looked at your watch, seeing that it was already 9 AM, just an hour before your meeting, so you hurriedly stood up, cursing as you pulled down the blinds of the window to have some privacy before you left. you didn't miss how the woman across you had shut her windows down even if she was letting it all open at night. weird.

you then chuckled at the thought and got rid of your other clothes to take a bath and hurriedly made yourself presentable for the meeting.

you just thanked god for the subway system, and how fast you can run. you arrived at the meeting room 10 AM, on the dot, and you immediately took out your laptop to present.

it went well, and now you're reassigned into a team on the 14th floor, working on the same project as you. it's a two year contract with them, so you made a promise to yourself that you'll not slack off about it. well, it's just that you can't. it's a big project and you need to design both interior and exterior.

the same night, since it was a weekend, you decided to get a couple of drinks from the deli just right at the corner of your street. you were already dressed comfortably, and you're now looking at the selection of alcohol in the back of the deli. you can't deny that you've been drinking more now than ever, even when you were partying. you sigh as you get two bottles of smirnoff mule, a staple since you've been spending time here and not finding cheaper-than-water soju.

you went to the cashier and saw a woman getting in, hair falling down to her shoulders, wearing a comfortable pair of slides, with a pair of black rimmed round glasses and one of your favorite hoodies. wait. what?

you look at her again, her back facing you. that mclaren formula one hoodie. it was plain in the front, just having the team’s logo, and it had a huge print of the car at the back. it was a gift from her since she knows just how much you like formula one.

“that'll be $5.28.” the cashier reminds you. “anything else?”

“a pack of marlboro reds too, please.” you smiled, and you heard the woman, whom you think was sana, clear her throat. she knows you've been trying to come clean, and since the four years you've been together, you haven't touched any type of cigarette. she can't bear the feeling that pangs in her chest, knowing that you'll relapse because of her.

“that'll be $22.28.” the cashier says. damn, that expensive? you thought in your head. it was just a fake buy, yeah, you'd put it, but you'll leave it rotting. you become sick at the smell of tobacco in your system.

“have a great night!” you greet as you went outside the deli, waiting for the woman to come out. you don't plan to confront her, but you do plan to get something out of her. you don't care if she'll nag at you, or hit you, or ignore you. you just want her to know you're here and you've found her.

you put a stick of cigarette between your lips, and you pull out your lighter (you keep it as a fidget toy, and you recently put some fluid on it.) you spark it as you saw, at the corner of your eye, sana leaving the deli to go to your street too.

you took a sickly puff out as she passes by, and she coughs loudly.

“what? have a problem with it?” you confronted her. “it’s not like it's your first time seeing me like this, minatozaki.”

you quickly disposed of the cigarette. you hated it already, and it was no use. she stopped in her tracks, hearing her last name come out of your mouth.

“just stop running away.” you chuckled to yourself. “you already know i can never get mad at you.”

“i live at number 14, 4th floor, number 229, the door's always open.” you shouted as she continues walking. you didn't care if you just exposed your room number, or your literal address to everyone. not that they’d care. what's important is that sana does. “i want my hoodie back!”

“well fuck you!” she shouts back, and from that, you can see her tears run from her face. “it's mine now!”

she runs to her apartment, and you observed, it was the one just across yours. you waited until you knew which floor she was on. you knew it the moment the second unit of the third floor opened their lights, and it was the one directly in your direction. you laugh at the realization that she was the woman whom you were drawing the first night you were here.

“god, i can't believe she's still this stubborn.” you say to yourself as you keep smiling your way to your apartment. thank god you have a hundred papers for creating your blueprints, and you lay one out on your drawing table to write ‘give me my hoodie back!’ in big letters, enough for sana to see the next morning when she opens her windows.

days passed. you haven't been opening your window since she still isn't giving you back your hoodie.

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

“damn, it's dark in here,” momo laughs as she puts down her chinese takeout, seeing your apartment this dim in the afternoon. the only one with a light was your work table, which had most of your blueprints. “i know you hate overhead lighting but don't fuck your eyes up more.”

“yes, i know,” you sigh as you open the lights. “i'm just trying to cut down on the costs.”

“you own the damn building,” momo scoffed as she opened her box. “plus, you have more money than you think.”

“please don't get me to try weed again.” you joked as you also took a box, opening it to smell the most scrumptious chow fan you've ever smelled. “this is enough.”

“yeah, it's great, probably the greatest one around here,” momo smiles as she takes another bite of her food. “sana lives just right across from you then?”

you just nodded as you went to get some water from your fridge. “she just said fuck you.”

“i mean, she would,” momo joked. “but like, that's kinda asshole-y of her to just ignore you.”

“she ghosted me, of course she would ignore me,” you laughed. “no one gets friendly with people they've ghosted.”

“why didn't you like, pull her to you?” momo asked. “you know. like ones in dramas?”

“nothing would ever come out of it either.” you sighed. “plus, i didn't have the guts too. maybe i was so upset that i really just wanted my hoodie back. don't even try to sound me out. i know that you'll say you kissed mina the moment you reconcile. but she didn't ghost you!”

“okay, yes, that's right, but still.” momo holds you by the shoulders to calm you down. “get your girl back.”

“i can't,” you laughed. “i'm so busy that i didn't even remember that i got dumped. honestly, at how busy i am, i might even forget that she lives just right across from me. i haven't called her number, i haven't texted her for days. the last text i sent her was i told her that my detergent was still the same.”

“why the hell would she want to know that?” momo laughs.

“dunno,” you pouted. “she has my hoodie, might as well make it smell like me.”

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

“i fucking hate that she hasn't even changed one bit,” sana sobs as she confides in her friend's side. “it’s so annoying.”

sana remembers the way you screamed. the way you faked buying cigarettes and taking one stick that you immediately threw as she turned her back against you. the way you called her last name. the way your voice cracked in pain. the way you drew your note with a silly character. it annoys her that you keep on staying on her mind. she was supposed to forget you.

“i'm,” she sobs more, nursing a bottle of some alcohol she got offered with. “so annoyed that i still want her.”

“then get her back,” mina laughs as she hugs sana. “honestly, she'd understand it. like she always would.”

“i don't wanna hurt her anymore,” sana sobs as she takes another sip. “i never deserved her.”

“she pursued you back then,” mina remembered, rubbing her hand across sana's arm to calm her down. “what makes you think that you don't deserve her when she literally wanted you?”

“i just can't.”

“do you still want her?” mina asked.

“yes,” sana chuckles through her tears. “a little too much.”

“then pursue her,” mina whispered. “try to win her back.”

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

sana kept that in mind. that night, she wanted to go home by herself, and mina let her do so, even if she was too concerned. sana got too annoying and mina just dropped her off by the subway instead.

sana stops by the corner deli to try and see you.

you were at the deli to grab a little snack, and you opened the door to go outside but you almost hit someone, “shit, look where you're going!” your stuff fell to the ground and you heard the person chuckle.

“sorry,” you looked up at the person. “i shouldn't have.”

you realized it was sana. she wasn't standing upright, her outfit looked like it was chilly, and her eyes were almost closing. “sana,” you held her by the waist, trying to get her upright. you pull her close to you as she pulls you by the waist too, her head leaning to your neck. “goddamnit.”

“don't say that,” sana laughs against your skin. “but i get it though.” she slurred her speech. it was probably the copious amount of alcohol she consumed.

“i swear if you ever vomit on me i won’t meet you again.” you've seen it all. she vomited on you the first night you went out and she was too drunk. “i'm serious.”

“i know,” she whined as she hugged you again. “just take me home. i don't do that anymore, baby.”

“stop,” you tried to unclasp her from you, but her hold on you was tight. “i can't walk properly.”

“you do,” she looks down and sees that your steps were completely fine. how the hell is she still this conscious? “please.”

“we're gonna trip.” you chuckled. “get off of me first.”

she did get off of you, but she continued pouting, and you see her tears pooling around her lower eyelids.

“okay,” you took off your jacket and let her wear it, then you carried her with your arms, which took her by surprise and she immediately wrapped her arms around your neck. “don’t think that i'm still head over heels for you,” you warned. “i'm doing this because your feet are fucking swollen.” you were right. she was wearing those heels with such a steep form, and it was inches away from the ground too. you're surprised that she haven't even removed it yet.

she just nods, and her tears fall down. she can't believe that you're not mad. that you're not fuming. that you haven't even refused her yet. you don't hate her.

you take her to her apartment, lay her down on the couch, and you search for a glass to pour some water in. “here,” you handed it to her. “sober up.”

“thanks.” she smiles and wipes her tears.

“don't even,” you said. it hurts her to hear that you're almost monotonous. “where's my hoodie?”

“i’ll return it to you,” sana says as she rests her head on the couch, surrendering her whole drunk body in it. “it's in the wash basket. don't even bother to find it. i promise.”

it was an excuse for you to get her a blanket, which you got from her bed. you saw that her eyes were already closed, and you're even more surprised that she's actually already sleeping. you laid the blanket on her legs, and she pulled it up to consume her whole body with it.

you don't know why, but you watched her sleep. you watched if her eyes also tear up, or if she mumbles your name. you heard it and sana full on sobs, you saw at just how much her hand tightens around the edge of the blanket, how her breath heaved as she mumbled your name.

you don't understand. why does she seem more hurt than you? you're the one she left, and not the other way around. did that drunk curse work that well for her to miss you this much?

you find yourself crying. you just can't bear it so you left, but you didn't miss to tuck her hair behind her ear, and you didn't miss to wipe her tears by the tip of your thumb. you just couldn't bear seeing her this hurt.

────────────────⋆⋅🗽⋅⋆───────────────

sana grunts as she sits up from the couch, feeling her head throbbing against her skull. she was warm, having the jacket on and a blanket. she saw that she had water and hangover pills just on the table where her night lamp was placed. well, fuck.

she looks at her phone hurriedly, wanting to see if she got a new message or a new call from you. she opened her windows and saw a new note saying: drink your meds!

she forgot for a moment that you were there with her last night, that's why she has your black puffer jacket, and that there's a note on the table too. it was your number, and you wrote: “whenever you're ready.”

she just couldn't believe how calm you were. she just can't bring herself to admit that you don't hate her.

her eyes run a tear once more. she doesn't even know why she's this hurt. she chose to leave, didn't she?

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sana conquered the fear of texting you first. but after telling that the number she texted with is her active number, you just left her on read.

her day passes by like that, looking at her phone every once in 30 minutes, staring at her phone the whole lunch break, and her heart races everytime she gets a notification, hoping that it was from you.

honestly, she doesn't know what she'd say to you. maybe you were busy, or maybe you just chose to ignore her to pay back what she did. (which, honestly, isn't that bad.)

she pouts, staring at the text. still on read.

sana: are you free this weekend?

she asks. in over a record time, you read it and you reply.

y/n: yeah, why?

sana: i was wishing if we could talk over dinner and hopefully i could give your jacket and hoodie back.

y/n: don't bother to return the hoodie.

sana: why?

y/n: i changed my mind. plus, you technically bought it and you just handed it to me as a gift, right?

sana: yes, but what about your jacket?

y/n: i have three of those. that one's already wearing off and it has holes anyways.

you were honest. you do have three of it in similar styles, sana knows of it, doesn't know why, and you don't even know why.

sana: but what about dinner?

y/n: i can cook 🙂

sana pouts, but she knows you're playing with her to get something out.

sana: please. let me treat you out.

y/n: you don't need to. why?

sana: yes, i don't need to, but i want to.

y/n: then?

sana: i’d talk with you.

y/n: aren't we technically talking now?

sana: look, i just want to spend time with you.

y/n: minatozaki, this is leading to nothing.

sana: please let me treat you out to dinner.

y/n: we're going in circles. why?

sana: i need you to hear me out.

y/n: okay.

sana: 6pm. pontios.

y/n: okay. anything else you need to say?

sana: your jacket doesn't have holes.

y/n: just keep it.

sana smiles. it was such a you thing to do, letting her get away with your jackets in her closet. it's the best thing that keeps her warm, wrapped around the similar woody vanilla scent of your perfume.

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the weekend comes quickly, and you were so exhausted to finish checking and doing what seems like thousands of blueprints in a span of a day. you need to clear your schedule for saturday and sunday to finally get some rest. of course, to also finally meet sana.

it's the time where you'd actually find why she left. why she made you cry. why she moved to new york.

you sighed as you put on your best outfit, and went out just before 6pm. you went to the restaurant to see her already waiting for you in a table closed off from the windows, in a more intimate area of it. you looked around and saw the interior, and you guessed that it's sana's favourite. it had the same mid-century feel to it, but it was more of a diner, and it was very bright with the presence of fluorescent light bulbs.

“did you wait long?” you asked as you looked at your watch as you sat down on the sofa right in front of her.

“not at all,” she flashes you a tight lipped smile. “i arrived a couple of minutes ago.”

“good,” you said as the waiter makes their way to your table. “should we order now?”

“yeah, go on,” she says, handing you a menu. “pick anything you like.”

you just hummed and you flipped the menu to every page. apparently, it was an all day breakfast restaurant. most of the meals only consist of either coffee, pancakes, sausages, fried chicken, bacon, and eggs.

“i’d get the chicken platter, please,” you dictated. “plus a can of coke.”

“i’d get the same.” sana closes her menu as well and hands it over to the waiter with a smile.

“so,” you sighed as you adjusted yourself, leaning back on the cushions of your seat. “what am i even here for, minatozaki?”

“do you really want me to make it quick?” she sighs.

“i thought you were ready?” you scoffed.

“i know what to say, yes,” she said. her eyebrows were already meeting in the middle of her forehead slightly. “where do you want me to start?”

“where do you want to start?” you chuckled.

sana knew you were toying with her with your little repetitive questions. “since you wanna play that way,” sana sighs. “i left because i knew you were gonna propose to me.”

your jaw immediately drops to the floor the moment you heard her, but you tried to pull it back before flies could come in.

sana smiles at your reaction. “i didn't want to reject you, so i chose to leave instead. i thought there was nothing else i could do. it was either to reject you and break your heart like that; or break your heart by leaving and ghosting you.”

“okay,” you breathed and collected your thoughts. “why didn't you tell me that?”

“i'm not a party pooper, y/n,” she joked as the food arrived at your table already. “i didn't want to ruin your surprise either.”

“so you surprised me instead,” you joked, eating a slice from your pancakes. “nice one there, minatozaki.”

she sighs under her breath. it was hard for her to process just how much she hates being called by her last name from you. it used to be so sweet. now it's just plain, boring, and hurtful— like a dull knife piercing right through her stupid little heart.

“what i was trying to say,” you said as you gulped on the cola. “is that why didn't you tell me the day before? there was plenty of time for me to blow up my surprise.”

“yes, but it's your surprise,” she sighs as she takes a bite from her chicken. “it’s foolish if i find it out first when i am the one who'll take the surprise, right?”

you smiled at her, “yes, but what made you think that i’ll look at you and love you differently if you say no?”

“because you were so sure of it.” she says, looking at you right in the eyes. “you don't want your expectations to be broken, and that's the first thing i knew about you when we met. i just couldn't let it happen.”

“i just couldn't let myself see you cry because of me.” she sighs, interlocking her hands together as a relief. you see the tears pool around her eyes as she looks down on her untouched pair of fried chicken and waffles.

“okay.” you just took a bite out of your food once more, ignoring the overwhelming feeling in your chest. “is that all of it?”

she just nodded as she sniffled.

“eat up,” you smiled, quite foolishly and teasingly. “you said you wanted to take me out to dinner, right? it ain't fair if i'm the only one actually having dinner.”

sana chuckles to herself. this was how you usually are, trying to ignore the feelings that come from everything.

“but you made me cry still,” you laughed to yourself as you spoke. “you made me drink, you made me lonely, you made me coop myself up at home when i should be celebrating my birthday, made me think so much where did i go wrong when i remembered that i kissed you to sleep. you made me question everything i did from the start, sana. and at some point, you even made me doubt you.”

you're quite surprised that you're not shedding a single tear. maybe it was the relief of getting the point across to the person that you really want to talk with, and getting the answers you wanted for such a long time.

sana realized that you're awfully kind. it hurts for her to hear that there are nights you spent drinking on your own, thinking about what you could have done to get her back.

you hand her your handkerchief, but you can't bring yourself to dry her tears just yet.

she gladly takes it, and she smiles, finally calming down from the heavy feeling. it soothes her that you never lost yourself, even if she left you clueless.

“i'm sorry, y/n.” sana sighed deeply as she wiped her tears down with the soft cotton of your hanky.

you then chuckled again, “what for? are you leaving me again?”

“no,” sana pouts. “i'm just sorry for everything that hap-”

“it's all in the past,” you smiled again. sana missed seeing that, but she felt that something was lacking. “and your food is getting cold.”

“oh, right,” sana then picks up her cutlery and gets into action. she must've been hungry too. “why are you in new york, though?”

“do you want a stupid answer or a good answer?”

“both.”

“i'm tired of finding girls in seoul,” you joked. “and my, supposed to be, our apartment was rotting so i had to stay. plus, i got a two year contract for building a 35-storey office in manhattan. although it's technically a refurbishment project, since it has so many floors it'll probably take some time.”

“oh, that's why…” she then ate away what she was about to say. she knows you were joking from your first statement, but she can't help but think about it.

“i was too busy finishing my job before i can even party, don't worry about that,” you said. “anyways, why new york though?”

“no one knows me here,” sana says as she chews on her syrup drizzled waffles. “although, i did meet an old friend, no one knows me here.”

“hm, okay,” you just nodded. “and the old friend?”

“mina.” she smiles.

“wait, sorry? mina?”

“yeah!” she says, quite amused at the situation. “i think i told you before that i had a friend that went to the states and grew up here too.”

“hm, yeah you did,” you muffled as you were still eating. “do you know her girlfriend? momo?”

“yeah,” sana nodded. “wait. you know momo?”

you just nodded. “she's a friend from college who moved here immediately after getting a good hire from a famous firm.”

“oh, so you know momo.” she laughed to herself. she just can't believe how small the world is, and she ends up always having to meet you. it just seems to her that you'll always find her.

“do you have like,” you looked at her again as you took a sip from the cola. “a job?”

“oh, yeah,” she smiles. “i work at a company and it's just in soho,” she explains. “what about you?”

“i'm in midtown manhattan,” you said. “it's quite terrifying to get lost in the subways, though.”

“you still work late?”

you just nodded, “of course. i can't avoid it.”

“hm,” sana thinks. you work late. you rarely open the windows. you work at the most exhausting part of new york. she clears her throat. “um, do you have a, like…” she hesitates. it's quite the dumb question to ask if you ghosted someone. “girlfriend or a fling?”

“honestly?” you asked in a sharp tone that gets to her ears so well it makes her heart go faster. “i would love to.” you teased. “but, i'm too busy with work, still very stuck up with this one person and that one person happens to be just in front of me.”

sana just watched you eat away the final bites from your food as you smiled to yourself. she just can't figure it out. you were straightforward back then, and it's the same case up until now.

“what if i'm not here?”

“i'm still going to be very busy though,” you said. “so my thoughts really can't escape beyond what i do for work, and you.”

sana, unbelievably so, blushed. “oh.”

“it's kinda scary and amusing, actually,” you said, reflecting on the past few days, weeks, and months. “it's like i'm just thinking of you. when i'm not thinking about how i’d do my work and evaluate my team’s work, i think about if you already had lunch, or if you got late at work, or if you had your morning coffee— you know, trivial stuff like that which i usually ask you.”

“really?” she then beams, the situation making her overly happy. “i, um,” she calms herself down and breathes deep before saying, “think of that too. if you're pissed off because you don't have the right pencil to draw with, or if you got your favorite coffee, what did you eat for breakfast, what do you wanna eat for lunch… stuff like that fills my mind all the time.”

you just nodded. you don't know what to feel about it. you don't even know what to feel about anything that's happening right now. it seems like you really needed her in front of you to explain what she did, but a part of you thinks that this isn't enough. a part of you was still doubtful of it, but a part of you wants to just engulf her in your hug, knowing just how much she hid from you.

she had every right to be scared. you just don't know how she had the heart to leave.

“when i left,” sana sits back on the couch again, sighing deeply. “i don't want you to pity me or anything, honestly i want you to be super angry at me,” she joked. “i hesitated. i didn't like imagining how you'd lose yourself, get drunk, find another girl,” she emits a weary breath. “but then, i flew here and lived by myself as i promised, ignored your calls, your texts— just to find myself still listening to your voice at night, looking at the photos of us to relive those moments that i had with you. i was so stupid.”

“you are,” you said. “but i can't be mad at you.”

“why?”

“i just can't deny the fact that i have a lot of love in my heart for you that it consumes any other feeling that i have in me,” you explained. “i’m fine with it now since you admitted to yourself. i'm sorry too if i got too ahead, sana.”

“you don't need to be.” she smiles. “you were just expecting the obvious.”

“why did you get scared of it, though?”

“i know that you'll treat me right, but there are so many doubts that i had,” she pondered. “but it's mostly on my part. i didn't like seeing myself not being able to commit to you. i hated that at some point, i’ll be the one to leave, so i left before anything worse can happen.”

“okay,” you sighed. “what do you wanna do now?”

sana softly laughs, “ah, well,” she looks down on her food again. “i honestly want to win you back.”

“i'm not a trophy, sana,” you joked. “but then, if that's what you want,” you looked at her, that feeling of spark rising within you as she let her honey brown eyes meet yours. “i’d let you do it. it's not going to be easy though.”

“i know,” sana murmured. “and i'm gonna try my very best.”

you laughed, seeing the determination that rises in her— cheeks flushed, eyes sparkly, just like how you remembered her. “good luck.”

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that night was the first time you slept well without alcohol, and sana, as you saw from across the window, slept on the couch comfortably as she watched her favorite tv show. (you bet that she finished the series already, and that she's only rewatching it.)

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the morning comes and someone comes knocking at your door, calling your full government name like you're getting arrested for tax fraud.

“yeah, wait,” you rub your eyes, trying to get all the morning dust out of the way. you opened to see sana, smiling like she was the sun. “oh, hi.”

“hello,” she sing-songed. “i just wanted to drop by,” she handed you over a bag. you wondered, one of your eyebrows lifting as you held it. “breakfast. your favorite,” she chuckled as she pats down the stray hair from your sleep. “eat well.”

“nice,” you chuckled, prying the bag open. “have you eaten already?”

“uh, yeah,” she said, nervously palming the back of her neck. “i'm about to go now, actually.”

“are you sure? this is a lot,” you smiled, seeing the big container of your favorite breakfast. “you know i don't eat that much.”

“you know what,” sana laughs. “just tell me if you wanna eat with me.”

“i have extra plates, come on,” you respond, letting her in your apartment. she was resisting at first, stepping away from the door, but then, you showed her the best puppy eyes that she'll always fall for, and she's trapped when you said, “please.”

“okay,” she smiles and comes inside your apartment, leaving her shoes by the step before going in. “looks warm here.”

“hm,” you nodded, taking out the big container out of the bag. “you really cooked, huh.” you saw that it really was your favourite breakfast, one with fried rice, eggs, and spam. it was a simple meal you always shared with her in your apartment before you went to work.

you move to pull out a chair for her, and you get the cutlery from your kitchen. “do you want coffee?”

“yeah, that'll be nice,” she smiles. she doesn't know how weird it feels how you easily go into the routine that you had when you two were still together. it was always like this, your back facing her as you were busy in the kitchen, making sure that her breakfast is great, and that she'll start her day as great as possible. “can i have it i-”

“iced, three pumps of cream, and vanilla.” you recite as you run your espresso machine. “i still don't know how you like your coffee so sweet.”

“well, thanks for remembering that,” sana laughs, glad to know that you still question the amount of sugar to coffee ratio on her drink. “how about you? still a shot of espresso, a pump of creamer, and iced?”

you nodded, funnily so. you didn't expect that you've spent that much time with sana that she knows you, down to your littlest, mundane, and absurd routines.

you smiled at her as you made way to the table, sitting across her like you usually do. for a while, you forget that sana ghosted you for months.

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to say that you were sana's love of her life was an understatement. seeing you again, like this, eating your favorite breakfast after not reaching out to you for months makes her throat and eyes burn. it's ridiculous of her to let you live alone, to let you be deprived of her love.

it continues, you two fall back into a simple routine.

sana spends the mornings with breakfast she makes at the crack of dawn and you two share, you fix yourself as sana waits, and you get unexpectedly early at your office.

during the afternoons, you have coffee that she bought in hand, something she's been weirdly doing every now and then, even dropping by to your office. during the night, she fetches you, saying that: “it's gonna be a waste of energy if you go home by the subway, we're literally living across each other.”

occasionally, and during the weekends, sana, if time permits, takes you to restaurants, bars, or parks to ease your mind. new york was huge, and you're surprised she knows it down to a t, and to it's hidden spots.

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she knows that the schedule of yours was very hectic. she dreads that more as you spend less time with her, since recently as you held the ground-breaking for the site.

“it was a mini project that they didn't tell me about,” you munched on the churros she bought you before you sat down on one of the steps facing the vast, winding hudson river. “and you know, it made me much busier than i am.”

“you need a raise,” sana laughs. “and 20 leaves.”

“they're giving me a raise,” you laugh as well, finally easing up. “so yeah, but i still became more busy.”

sana sighs as she stares off at the sight. the skyline of new york fades away as the sun starts to set, and the lights of the buildings slowly turn on.

it was a moment. it reminded you that you needed time, whether productive or not.

you just needed time.

“sana,” you then looked at her. “what do you think about coming back together?”

“what do you mean?” sana nervously laughs. she didn't expect for you to say it sooner. it's only been two months since you started reconciling.

“us,” your eyes stared at her honey brown ones like they're the only things you've ever known. “look, i just-”

“i realized that i can’t go a day without you,” you sighed in relief as you then held both of her hands, saying your truth. “i figured that i was thinking too ahead, and i didn't give you time and i ruined that for us. i'm sorry-”

sana then pulls you into a warm, loving hug, “you don't need to be. i'm the one who left, right?”

“yeah, bu-”

“i'm the one who left,” she repeats, trying to sink those words into your head. “and i think i'm not trying my best getting you back just yet.”

“but you are,” you whispered. “i just want you to call me yours again, please.”

“god,” sana lowly chuckled as she ran a hand behind your back, comforting you. “you don't know how much i've been waiting for this, my love.”

you sinked your head into her neck, trying to suppress your feelings as you heard that one phrase you've wanted to hear from her for months. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” sana then kisses your forehead gently as you close your eyes, savoring this little moment in time with her. “i hope i could prove that every day.”

“you don't need to,” you held her hand again and kissed it. “just stay by my side. it'll be enough.”

sana held your cheek with her hand, soft against the surface of it, as she brushed her thumb below your eyelid, something she always does like a little habit. “okay,” she comes closer to meet her forehead with yours, and locks your lips as you two share a longing, electrifying kiss. she smiles, lips inward as you pull away. “i waited for that, too.”

“well, that's just fair.” you then held her hand as she wrapped her arm on your shoulders, letting you lean onto her. you two stared off at the view, just admiring the warmth of the sunset before it gets cold during the night.

“and i’ll always wait,” sana whispered. “i won't get tired.”

you then smiled, now holding the hand that was on your shoulder as you stared off the river in a comforting silence. “as long as you're with me,” you then looked at her. “i won't mind taking time and waiting.”

#twice imagines #twice fluff #twice angst #sana imagines #sana fluff #sana angst

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katszky · 17 days

Text

content warning: public sex ; face-fucking ; threesome

─ ` part 1

─ `

Eijiro walks down the familiar path of red lights he did just the day before. He gulps before approaching the red tinted, glass door. "Hey, where the fuck are we." His best friend, Katsuki, who stood behind him asked aloud, making him jump a bit. "I know you know where we are Kats." Eijiro says before pulling the blondie by his arm then entering the building.

When he went in, it was cold and the air smelled of sweet fragrances. It was dimly lit with a few red strobe lights lighting the place up. Katsuki scanned the place further before noticing silhouettes on the corners of people making out and fucking. Eijiro then walks to the register before placing the golden VIP card on the marble counter. "You dirty fucking dog, how long have you been goin' here?!" "Shut up man! I'll show you in a sec!"

They both patiently wait for the lady to give them an ID, exclusively for VIPS only. Katsuki follows the red head to the main room. When entering, their met with half nakes strangers having threesomes on tables and gangbangs on the stage. This though, was for the walk-ins only, the lucky people who obtained the golden card gets to relax in another room. One quieter, cleaner and more erotic.

"So.. I'm not sure if you listened to me yesterday, but this lady gave the card to me okay?" Eijiro explains to Katsuki just what happened the day before and how Eijiro got a VIP card. "How the fuck did you meet!" "That's a different story-!" The argument was cut off by a loud gasp that took the two by surprise. "It's youuu~!" You happily run toward the man you were playing with yesterday.

Your tits bouncing up and down as you skip to him, a pair of heart shaped stickers covering your nipples and a bigger one covering your pussy while feint patches of hair trail down. He was so much bigger than you that your smaller arms couldn't fully wrap around his broad shoulders, and now that you're finally able to touch him, you run your soft hands across his thick biceps, tracing every vein.

"M'so glad you made it~!" You hug his arm before noticing he's got company behind him. "Why wouldn't I come? Prettied yourself up for me baby?" Eijiro hand snaked around your waist, pulling your smaller body into his, as if you guys have known each other for for quite some time. Running his calloused fingers around your pillowy ass and soft thighs. "So fuckin' pret-" "Ahem."

A hoarse voice from behind Eijiro caught your attention. "Is that a friend~?" You ask him while he's busy playing with the fats of your body. "Oh him? Yeah, you mentioned that it's allowed to bring someone else in right?" "Ooh~?"

You broke out of Eijiro's grasp then stuck to Katsuki's body like a magnet. Your arms instantly wrapping around his waist. "You're cute, wanna play~?" You were very obviously teasing him, pressing yourself against his hard chest while wiggling you hips. He's sure your flaps where squelching in that little latex sticker.

"Yeah.. yeah I'll play with ya' " Katsuki smirks before slapping your fat butt. It sends ripples across your flushed cheeks. "Tch, real grateful for bringin' me here Kiri~" He carries you to one of the red couches then sits you on his lap. "Mnh.. you're kinda mean~" You slowly grind yourself on his torn jeans, the hot mess creating a small damp patch on it.

"Hey man, I brought you here. Don't forget you're just an extra, I'm the guest." Kirishima held you waist in place then carried you before sitting you on himself. "Cool your jets Kiri. She ain't got two holes for nothin'~ " Katsuki scoffed before standing up and grabbing your chin to look in his crimson eyes.

"Now, now, no fighting okay?" You look at both men before nuzzling Katsuki's warm palm and licking it, then carefully guiding one of Eijiro's hand to one of your breasts. "How 'bout some foreplay hm? Surely─" You get cut off by Katsuki who pressed your face into his crotch, breathing in all of him even right through the thick cloth.

"Sorry not sorry but I aint got time for that princess." He growls, you could almost feel there vibration of his voice while being down there, his hand still firmly pressing your head to his dick. "He's right sweets, I can't really wait either~" The other man whispers into your ears while grinding his hardon in between your asscheeks. His fingers digging into the meat of your chubby waist.

"Can we skip the foreplay mama? You're already soaked down here." He mumbled into your neck, his hand trailing down to your throbbing cunt before harshly peeling the heart off. Although he is sitting down, you could feel his hips buck into your rump. You whine when Eijiro slowly peeled off the sticker, then muffled out a short string of words before Katsuki let you go. "Alright.. After all... my purpose here is to serve you right~?"

Katsuki snickered "Thaaat's right angel, startin' to know your place huh?" he licks his lips before undoing his fly and throwing his belt to the ground. He grabs a fitfull of your hair and shoved your mouth into his clothed cock, albeit constricted in his boxers, it didn't hide it's size." Wanna taste your treat? S'all yours babe~." He continues to egg you on.

The other man was busy stretching you out, two of his fingers slowly and gently thrusting in you while his free hand toys with your tits. The amount of slick you made, created small droplets on the floor. "Fuck... your too tight sweets... gotta stretch you out so you can take us easier 'kay~?" He whispers before inserting another one in you.

You're legs were trembling even while sitting on Eijiro's lap, not to mention the strong smell of Katsuki violating your nose and the small strands of hair slipping out of his boxers is tickling your nostrils. You proceed to do as he ordered and bit on the orange hem of his boxers, slowly, you pulled it down, revealing more of the hair and then finally his cock sprung out, standing and twitching.

You're eyes widened and your lips slightly parted as you breathe out. You licked his shaft, going up and down before he pulls you off of him. "Not yet slut, although this is just your appetizer, ya still gotta savor every bit of it." You pout your lips before moving to his balls, licking and suckling on it. He chuckles, before caressing your cheek "Good giiirl~."

"Stop hogging her you fuckin' dick." Eijiro growled before roughly finger fucking you, making gushing and squelching noises while your cunt juices drip all over the floor. You whimper at the sensation and tried to squeeze your legs together, but he effortlessly kept your legs apart with one hand and continued bullying your pussy.

On the other hand, Katsuki had fun watching you dirtied his balls with your spit. "That's enough beautiful. Time to stuff your pretty throat full of this meat, you'd love that won't you?" He drags his dick side to side on your face while occasionally slapping the side of your face with it, comparing it's length your face.

After spreading his pre all over your face, he finally presses his tip to you lips, gently dragging it as if he were putting lipstick on you. "Open wide princess~" You opened your mouth, tasting the saltiness of his pre from his tip on the flat of your tongue. After a few seconds him playing with your pretty mouth, he slowly inched deeper down your throat, stopping when he feels you cough or gag around him. Once you've taken him balls deep, he'll keep you in place while he shakes his hips and digs your nose into his bundle of hair sitting on the base. "Fuuuuck.."

You held onto his thigh tightly, gripping on the holes of his torn jeans while you shut your eyes and let him fuck your throat. Every thrust makes you gag and clench around Eijiro's fingers. Both his hands are placed firmly behind your head to keep you from moving, he's made your throat his little fleshlight.

His balls slap your chin, leaving strings of saliva and cum that connect your chin and his sack. The red lipstick you had worn a few hours earlier was now dirtying up the base of his dick, even staining a few strands of his pubes red.

"Tsk.. focus on these fingers stretchin' you bitch. Gonna make you cum so fuckin' hard you bite his dick off." Kirishima bit down on your shoulder while his free arm is wrapped around your waist and he's finger banging you to oblivion.

Your moans are muffled by having Katsuki's dick down your throat. While busy face fucking you, he takes his belt off. Then wraps it around the back of your head while holds both end, he pulled on the belt, causing you to press into him harder, making his dick go deeper. A series of muffled moans and gags leaves your mouth, this only amuses him as he lets out a breathy chuckle. "God..shit..-!" Katsuki grunted, he let go of the belt then held your head using both hands while he came deep in your throat. He's buried so deep each pump of cum is immediately swallowed.

Kirishima looks at you, then to his wet hand, then to the mess you made on the floor. He heard loud gulps before Katsuki finally pulled out, strings of cum stuck to the tip of his dick. "Aww, how fucking cute, you came together." Kirishima says while cupping your cunt, hard. His tone laced with sarcasm. "I'm- *cough* -sorry for neglecting you Eiji baby~" You look back at him, your chin and lips glossy with Katsuki's cum.

"Want me to suck you off too~?" You offered before he lifts you off of him and carries you to a table. "No need honey~ Wanna shove this inside you so bad." He sat you at the edge of the table, your legs around his waist while he plopped his dick on your tummy. It's length almost reaching your belly button. You feel frightened at the sheer size of that thing, Is it even gonna fit? Your gonna tear for sure! He chuckled a bit when he saw your expression. "Don't you worry, I won't make you cry outta pain 'kay?" He whispers.

"...I'll make you cry outta pleasure~" Kirishima flashes you a devilish grin before lining his dick to your tight entrance. "W-wait-! Slow... slowly okay..?" The thought of such a massive cock inside you is making your stomach feel funny. He nuzzles your cheek before nipping at your ear. "....Just sit pretty and take it."

#kazzy's tapes #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha imagines #mha smut #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima smut #kirishima eijirou #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki

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harleehazbinfics · 4 months

Text

Home is where my Heart is.

Chapter 1: A New Home Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 1395 A/N: aaaa im so happy i can finally post it. pls enjoy~ it's hazbin hotel guys, that's a warning in itself

(edited as of Feb 20)

I hopped off the bus clutching my hat in one hand and my bag in the other. Lifting my hand off the hat, I reached inside my coat for a piece of paper.

“Angel Suites, 123 Bullard Avenue,” I muttered reading the paper then looking at the tall building in front of me. I sighed and went inside and was then greeted with a stench of tobacco from the clerk in the front smoking reading a magazine.

I grimaced and knocked on the wooden desk to gain his attention, from the lack of a bell. He lifted his eyes from the paper and narrowed his gaze to glare at me, causing me to break in nervous sweat.

“Hi, I-I’m Miledy Calliope. I called you yesterday for an apartment room?” I tried to say out cursing at myself from my stutters.

He rolled his eyes, folded his newspaper to the side and opened a small drawer to his right, muttering curses as he looked for my keys. When he finally found them, he threw them at me to which I hastily caught, causing me to drop my belongings.

“The stairs are to the left,” he groaned in annoyance, opening his newspaper again and turning on the radio on his left increasing the volume, seemingly to drown me out if I had any more questions and then taking a drag from his tobacco.

I huffed and drudged to my now apartment room, it was cold and damp inside. It has a somewhat worn-out couch and bed, an empty kitchen. To save myself from a migraine, I plopped down on the bare bed and collected my thoughts to stay calm.

“This is better than nothing at all. Better than staying at that damned place for sure,” I complained quietly looking through the glass window in melancholy. I sat up and rummaged through my bag to find a little rabbit stuffed toy, squeezing it for comfort for being in a new environment and an entirely new life.

For a while, I did as much I could do to make the place cleaner than I found it and homier for me. As the sun went down, cleaned up myself. I wore a glittery loose dress, the length all the way to my ankles, accompanied by bright earrings and a fur coat.

After locking up the door, I headed towards my first gig. I breathed out a sigh as I tried to shake off my nerves, I stood at the half-filled club. I turned my head when I heard a shrill call for my name.

“Miledy!” I see a short woman theatrically calling my name.

“Miss Mimzy!” I replied excitedly, “Thank you so much for having me!”

“Of course, no problem! Just bring in some bills, yeah?” she joked with her thumb and pointer together to sign for money while winking.

“I’ll try!” I shrugged with a smile.

After a while of talking someone gave me a cue to get on stage. “Good luck, honey!” Mimzy cheered.

As soon as I got on stage and sang in front of the mic with a sudden boost in confidence, I didn’t notice a fine gentleman sitting next to Mimzy greeting her and talking with each other.

“Mimzy! Good evening, my dear,” the brunette greeted tipping down his hat. “A newcomer I see.”

“Hi, Al!” she replied enthusiastically, “Yeah, I scouted her from the city down during my trip. Lovely, isn’t she?”

Alastor merely hummed amused and answered, “A pleasing voice indeed. Would you mind introducing me after the show? I'd love to get to know this new talent of yours.”

Mimzy raised her eyebrow a bit skeptical, “Sure, no problem.”

The further the songs went on the more Alastor was enchanted, barely able to take his eyes off her. However, he noticed that he wasn’t the only one to take interest in her, his face contorted into a sneer when he lustful stares the men had in his peripherals, as they enjoyed their liquor.

When I finished my stage, the place erupted in cheers, whistles and applause making me feel overwhelmed with the attention. I smiled and waved my hand at them, thanking them for enjoying the show. I bounded to Mimzy and her company, where she counted her money.

“That was fantastic, darlin’! Look how much money you raked in!” Mimzy cheered.

“Given how clear and beautiful her voice was, I'd say it's quite deserved!” the gentleman with a glasses complimented. I blushed and replied with a small thank you which he smiled at.

“Miledy, this is my friend Alastor, he works as a radio host right here in New Orleans.”

“Miledy, Miledy Calliope. I just arrived in town today actually,” introducing myself to him and shaking his hand, his grin subtly growing deeper.

“Well, I have to go check the schedules and see when I can squeeze you on stage again. Toodles!” Mimzy smiled with an obsessive glint in her eyes.

Alaster faces me once again, “Can I offer you a drink?”

My smile froze a bit, thinking about it. He analyzes me a bit before adding with a laugh in his tone, “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything to harm you! I’m a frequent patron here and a very well-known voice and face here, you know? I neither don’t want to put my reputation to be at risk nor do I want you to have a bad time around here. Just think of it as a welcome gift as friends.”

I thought over what he said and smiled as he went on. I conceded to him, “Alright, why not? Sorry about being so skeptical.”

“No worries at all! It’s great that you’re on your guard. Not a lot of people are like me,” he teased bringing us to the bar.

“What? Tall and charming?” I retorted getting more comfortable around him.

He chuckled charmingly making me blush again, he then joked “Well, I was going for a kind respectable gentleman. I guess that can work too.”

I laughed at his not-so-subtle attempt to improve his self-image while his smile seemed a bit more genuine as he finally heard this woman laugh. He seemed to be enthralled with the image of me laughing and giggling at his remarks that he fished for more reactions out of me while we enjoyed a bunch of drinks.

The night grew colder, we started to gather ourselves and got out of the establishment.

“You sure can hold your liquor, darlin’,” Alastor remarked, he himself flushed red.

“I can say the same to you for a lanky figure like yours, sir,” I teased, “This was fun. Thanks for tonight, Alastor.”

His gaze softened and reached out pat my head which I indulged, finding his touch comforting. Oh, dear was I drunk.

“No problem. It was a fantastic night for me too. Do you have any plans anytime soon?” he asked keeping his hand on the top of my head.

“Mmm. I think I have to buy a few things for my apartment, why do you ask?” I answered, somewhat hopeful raising my eyes at him doe-ishly.

He breathed out a chuckle from my actions and replied, “Allow me to accompany you then. I’ll show you a fantastic store, one where your money’s worth spending to. I’ll free some time in a few days to show you around.”

“I’d like that. Thank you,” I smiled.

“Great! Now come, I’ll escort you back home. These streets are crawling with criminals at these hours,” he explained offering his arm out to me which I latched onto, growing creeped out as we strolled down to my place.

When we were half-way there, I heard a blood curdling scream as clear as day. It seemed so close to me, as if they were screaming in my ears, causing me to freeze and hold onto Alastor tighter. His perked up in alert as he circled his arm around me protectively, unbeknownst to me of the sadistic smile he had in the sick pleasure of the sound of suffering.

Reminding himself of the damsel in his arms, he rubbed had over my back and led me faster. “Don’t worry, doll. It’s nothing, just some pesky crows,” he lied.

I didn’t question further and walked briskly right next to him, blocking my ears as the screams slowly quieted down leaving it to my imagination.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #alastor x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin nifty #hazbin vaggie #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor

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hearts4renaa · 10 months

Text

AIN'T GOTTA TELL ME.

summary: things that the ‘95 line do that show how much they love you. gender neutral reader contains: drabbles for each member, pure fluff, established relationship a/n: i listened to "i think he knows" by taylor swift while writing. my first svt work! pls enjoyyy <3 and yes, i will get to the other members!

S.COUPS/CHOI SEUNGCHEOL | seungcheol has his eyes on you at all times, in a lovestruck daze.

“-ungcheol? seungcheol?” a hand waving in his face snaps cheol out of his daze. he blinks for a few moments before looking at who was asking for his attention. his eyes make it’s way to jeonghan, who’s leaning against his hand with a smirk. “seems like someone’s got your attention.” he teases.

he shakes his head, brushing off his comment. “oh, be quiet.” and suddenly, he finds his eyes drawing to you once again. you were striking up a conversation at the kitchen counter with dino, sipping on a glass of water. his chest feels all warm, seeing how you interact with the boys. nothing makes him happier than seeing all his loved ones get along. he feels the corner of his mouth perk up ever so slightly at sight of your animated conversing. then, all the chatter of his bandmates began to fade out, until there was only you. he had never seen anything more beautiful.

jeonghan laughs next to him. “you’re so obvious.”

seungcheol rolls his eyes, but deep down, he feels a fuzzy feeling start to build up.

YOON JEONGHAN | jeonghan drinks your shots for you.

“aeeey! y/n!” soonyoung’s voice is giggly, already drunk and long gone. the 14 of you were playing numerous drinking games, and with each loss, everyone slowly got drunker. obviously, soonyoung wasn’t too skilled in these games. unfortunately, you were the victim this time. “drink! drink! drink!” mingyu and dokyeom chanted playfully, with seungcheol already starting to pour a shot for you.

you laugh and shake your head. “nope, can’t drink more today.” they collectively groan, but you know they’re not serious. “sorry, boys.”

“aiii, come on!” seungkwan complains lightheartedly.

jeonghan extends his arm forward. “give it here, i’ll drink it.” his hand beckons the alcohol to him.

you turn to him. “you sure, hannie? you don’t have to.”

“mmm,” he mumbles before downing the alcohol. “it’s for you.” he smiles. you smile back and kiss him on nose.

seungkwan whines out loud. “hey, where was that energy before soonyoung got wasted?!?”

HONG JISOO/JOSHUA | joshua brings little gifts for your parents when he visits.

“oh joshua, aren’t you the sweetest?” your mom coos, admiring the bouquet of flowers he brought for her. she turns the vase around delicately, smiling at the arrangement. joshua smiles pridefully from beside you. “how did you know i liked carnations?” she asks him.

“ah,” he starts, flashing his award winning smile. “you mentioned them last time we were over for dinner.” he explained.

this only makes your mother beam even more. “oh joshua, you are such a gentleman!”

“i brought this for you too,” joshua turns to your father next. he hands him a bottle of leather cleaner, along with a brush. “i’ve always seen you with leather shoes. i figured you might appreciate this.”

your dad smiles too. “thanks, sport.”

“now come on, let’s go eat!” your mom exclaims. your parents head to the dining room.

he looks back to meet eyes with you, and you could feel how much love he has for you. “thank you.” you whisper. he kisses you on the forehead before speaking. “now, shall we join them?”

#seventeen x reader #svt x reader #scoups x reader #jeonghan x reader #joshua hong x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #seventeen x reader fluff #yoon jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #seungcheol x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff

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just-a-torn-up-masterpiece · 4 months

Text

let it all go

masterlist

emily prentiss x reader

18+: smut; brief mommy kink, piss kink, fingering, thigh riding

a/n - i am ashamed <3 and also rip to the hotel cleaner :/

wc: 1.3k

Emily Prentiss is always one step ahead; she knows what she’s doing with each decision methodically planned and today was no different. Just as with her work, any day she decides to plan an achingly torturous moment of teasing directed your way, she performs her ideas meticulously.

She watched you drink the coffees she supplied you with, and sip on the glasses of water she filled for you under the innocent facade of keeping you sufficiently hydrated. She made sure to pull you away with a task she feigned was important each time you began to head in the direction of a bathroom. She’d see you walk towards the doors and suddenly another job was more worth your time; she’d smirk at your obedience, always dropping what you’re doing for her.

By the time she was driving you both back to the hotel, your leg was bouncing rapidly, fidgeting in your seat with nervous agitations at the tension in your abdomen.

She could see how desperate you were, all too aware of the tapping of your foot against the car mat as soon as she began the drive from the station. She didn’t let you see the amusement on her face though she often glanced over at you whilst she drove. Each tormenting second that passed had you squirming in your seat and the hand she lay in your lap didn’t help matters at all. The way she let her fingers dig into the flesh of your inner thigh only made you tense more and you tried to wriggle out of her reach when she dared to inch towards your clothed cunt.

“Emily,” you breathed; you adored her touch more than anything but right now all you could think of was your need to use the bathroom.

“Hm?” She barely uttered a return, keeping her hand where she wanted it, knowing you truly didn’t want to be left wanting contact. She could see, with the way your teeth bit into your bottom lip, that you couldn’t focus on anything else - that you were too embarrassed to utter the reasoning for your frustrations.

Your girlfriend had made sure to be the one to have the key to your hotel room and she purposefully took her time to make her way into the building whilst you hurried ahead of her, waiting impatiently for her to saunter up to you.

With your mind unable to think of anything else, the elevator ride was practically silent with only the scuffing of your feet against the ground with each restless and fidgeting movement.

When you’d finally made it to your shared room she anticipated the moments to come and executed her plan perfectly. She didn’t let you pass her when you crossed the threshold, grabbing your wrist to pull you backwards. And, just like always, her lips on yours left you thinking of nothing else.

The fullness of your bladder was nothing of importance when she was paying attention to you; pushing her lips to yours and her tongue past them further, making quick work on the buttons of your shirt. The chill of the room fell against your back when she'd rid you of the clothing and in your haze of her you instinctively fiddled with the belt around her hips.

Just like a practised routine, your clothes were discarded, her skin was warm against yours and you followed her lead to the freshly made hotel bed. Strong hands guided your body to straddle her legs and, with a smirk at your writhing, a thigh lifted up to push against you. She knows just how pliable you are when it comes to her, how easy it is to bend your mind into one that can only focus on her.

Emily held you tightly, pushing you onto her while her teeth ghosted the sensitive skin along the column of your throat. But with the pressure she applied to your clothed cunt, came that pulling sensation she’d distracted you from.

“Em, I’ve gotta go,” you whispered and her hands that held onto you tightened their grasp with the bluntness of her nails digging into your waist. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

Your attempt to move was soon ripped from you when she held her ground, keeping you firmly in place with dark eyes peering up at you through her lashes. The look she sported was new, one that dared to tread in uncharted territory; it was lusting and bled with control, and you couldn't look away.

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” she spoke with an innocent obliviousness you knew was a facade. Her tongue swiped over her kiss-blushed lips whilst her hand made its mischievous way to your stomach with a pressure that made you lurch.

“Emily, please,” you whimpered, fidgeting in place, forbidding yourself to give heed to the feeling between your legs when the matter at hand was much more pressing. She shook her head and smirked; your body heated in an apprehension at the way she continued to push onto your lower stomach.

“Just let it all go, sweetheart,” she breathed. You could tell by the way she glanced downwards that she was serious, that her methodical taunting had been leading up to this moment that she craved. She wanted to see you fall apart before her, to be vulnerable and at her mercy.

“I can't,” you uttered in return. Your voice was quiet, trying your hardest to hold back despite the way she nudged her fingers against your clit.

“C’mon, be good for mommy,” she murmured beside your ear, cupping the side of your neck to pull your face to hers.

With the perfect way she licked at your collarbone, sucking marks into your skin, your mind couldn't hold onto that semblance of composure - your body couldn't.

You felt the heat in your underwear, tentative and shy at first, but the groan at the back of Emily's throat spurred you on. She wanted this, and you did too, despite the way you feel that slightest bit of shame gnaw at you. Though, you suppose, the air of humiliation is what pulls at the core of arousal within you.

You let yourself give in, giving Emily the feeling of warm wetness against her thigh. She was in complete control of you, and she adored it.

Knowing that you were pleasing her so made it that much more of a relief as your aching bladder emptied bit by bit until her hot breath against your skin quickened with her growing arousal; her need to have you. Her little toy, so good for her.

“So obedient for me, hm?” she rasped, claiming your lips for herself as she aided the movements of your hips, rutting against her leg with a neediness she loved to see.

Your swollen clit bumped against her with every glide of your body and the fingertips she replaced it with only pulled you nearer the edge. You could see the darkened patch of arousal on her underwear and set her skin alight with the trailing of your fingers downwards until they met the slick of her cunt.

You matched her rhythm and the hips that met your every swipe against her clit let you know she was just as affected by the evening.

The lewd sounds between your thighs and the gasps for breath that bounced between you filled the room; the sloppy and breathless kisses were punctuated with sporadic moans at the backs of your throats and each second drew you both nearer to climax.

“I’m so close,” she uttered against your lips. “Cum with me, honey.”

It took little more than fingertips tracing the swollen clit with digits coated in her arousal to pull her orgasm to the surface, and you weren't far behind. The feelings washed over you both, breaths stolen by the thick space of passionate arousal.

She kept up slow pulls of your body towards hers whilst your heart pounded within your chest and you licked your fingers clean with a satisfied hum at the flavour of your lover on your tongue.

“Let me get you cleaned up, baby.”

#emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic

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duclean · 4 months

Text

Duclean: Premier Choice for the Best Facade Cleaning Services in Indore

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#Best Facade cleaning services in Indore #Facade Cleaning Services #Best Window Cleaning Services in Indore #Top Building Glass Cleaners in Indore

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cookie-crumblr · 7 months

Text

The Smell of Smoke

Innocent F! Reader x M!Yandere Bully OC

Part 4~

His Info: 🖕✨

Part: 1 2 3 4 5

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, YANDERE, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, name calling (bitch,little slut ), BULLY, gagging, extreme violence against reader, branding, burning, oral on ml, spitting, choking, water boarding, p in v, breeding kink themes, collars (i think all above is still non-con) DRUGGING(SO SORRY I FORGOT OMG)

“Name’s Ace! by the way, I mean…” Ace fumbles with his fingers and his hair for an awkward amount of time before speaking again. “Um… Y/N…” He takes a deep breath finally deciding to get to his point, “Stay away from my brother. I mean— like— please!”

“I wasn’t trying to be anywhere near the guy, he’s just… everywhere.” You sigh.

“I… I know… You have to keep trying though! I-It’s not that he’s a bad person… He just…” He makes a motion to your damaged person to demonstrate what he’s trying to say. “Anyway, I’ll get ya outta here and home safe, but you have to promise me at least eventually that you’ll stay away from us.”

(Changes how the future parts of SOS will play out)

Ace’s warning did little to change your future. Your present…

You washed your face in the bathroom at school.

That was all.

All you did to deserve this.

Ezra holds your face under the faucet and painfully smushed against the porcelain.

He shoves you harder against it suddenly, it twists your neck.

“Take it, bitch.” He uses his other arm to motion something behind your back. “Hold her. You, strip her.”

Other hands take the place of his against your head.

You hear a flame, “N-No!No!NoNonoNo!” you babble.

“Shut her up.” He motions to them with his shoulder. His hands are occupied, holding a blow torch in one, and a brand in the other.

You shake and struggle violently against them, one stuffs something into your mouth, and another breaks your leg by kicking in your knee.

You scream into the gag, and that isn’t even the worst pain you’ll get to experience today.

Ezra presses the red hot metal to your, now still, lower thigh.

The agony is immeasurable.

It feels like an eternity, but

You black out from it instantly.

You aren’t in a hospital when you wake this time.

It’s more like…

A prison. or, a detention center.

Your leg is set right, and your burns are being properly treated. The environment could be cleaner, but you seem… Safe.

“He’s coming down,” some guys guarding the cells say as they get into position.

Ezra comes down the stairs, you can hear him before you see him.

“When’s she gon’ wake up”

“Not for another hour or so…” someone pipes up.

His foot thumps come closer and closer until, he’s within your bed’s upright position’s view.

“She looks awake t’me.” He takes the man’s skull in his hands and slams it into the glass. His face comes closer as if to say something—

“Wait!! Wait! Ezra!! I literally just woke up!! Don’t!” You jump to your feet and the monitors buzz and screech. Your leg hurts.

“Get in there and stop her.” He opens the door and throws the man in.

He lights a cigarette as he stares holes into you.

The other guys grab you and force you back into bed. the “doctor” quickly and effectively, sets everything back into place.

You don’t have any fight left to try anything.

Ezra gets them all to leave before coming in to see you up close.

He tilts your head up roughly and bends down to kiss you without saying a word.

You let it happen, too tired to resist, though a fire builds in your core.

It almost burns, and then, he pulls away.

“You’ll need time to adjust, and heal.” He says as he stands back up.

“Adjust?”

“Yeah. Like new schedule ‘n shit. You’re… Under my protection now.” He rolls up his sleeves, “You have t’ adjust t’ this too.”

“To wha—” His dick is shoved into your mouth, wetness pools from the intrusion.

Hands in your hair forcing your nose bent up, and pressing tight against his body.

You choke around his girth. “Your mouth already forgot about this cock, I’m hurt” He throws his head back as he starts to fuck your face. Only bringing it back down, to stare at your big watery eyes.

His scowl deepens as he fucks you harder. “Don’t waste any.” He spits on you, as he cums down your throat.

“Turn tha fuck around, bitch, and crawl.”

You do as you’re told, looking back at him a couple of times and catching his lingering glances.

“I’m only gonna give you my fingers right now, and you’re gonna cum f’ me. Gotit, bitch?”

You nod.

Your legs shake, as he starts to stroke your lips. his thumb is teasing your entrance while his two fingers pinch and glide over your clit.

“Mm ah!!” You cry out, the dull throngs of pain from your leg injuries adding to you’re pleasures intensity.

“Good little slut” He fucks you harder and harder with just his fingers on the outside and his thumb not even inside you. You come completely undone on his hand.

He buckles a thick collar with a leash around your neck and ties it around a metal post.

“Mmf, actually, I might cum in you again,” His voice is so much deeper and hungrier than you’ve ever heard in anyone.

“Hah! ahh! haah haa!” You moan in rhythm of his thrusts.

*plap plap plap plap*

He stripped completely naked to fuck you.

This man goes all out.

He’s holding you by your arms, and he shot you up with morphine.

Your body burns so bad and you don’t even know how many times you’ve came.

He pulls you to the edge of the bed and folds your legs to your chest and into a mating press.

“Don’t fuckin’ waste this—“ He thrusts in harder, “I don’t cum ‘n sluts”

“Oof!” He’s knocking all the wind from your lungs as he pounds into your womb. “hu-huh!?”

*Plap — Plap — Plap!*

“AH!!” Your body shakes, and at the same time he reaches for some duct tape nearby, as he pulls out he wipes himself clean and presses his cum back into you.

He then puts the strip of it right over your cunt.

“Don’t have too much fun with that, ‘n you better not get fucking pregnant, bitch.” He disappears out the doors again, and you’re left a high and confused mess.

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urhoneycombwitch · 21 days

Note

On dad!Steve !! I would love if you could write something about him coming to terms with becoming a dad/pregnancy and labour/just first time dad!Steve in general makes me melt (especially if he's a girl dad 😔)

kay I’ll speak on it bc I have thoughts for SURE

cw: dad!steve, pregnant!R, light emetephobia ment, childbirth desc (no smut but my page is +18 only)

canon-wise, I feel like Steve’s only gotten smarter. obviously he’s still got a goofy himbo side. but he’s getting cleaner with fighting. sharper with his observations. lighter on his feet that’s only come with lots of protective practice.

but the part of him that really cares goes into overdrive after s4, in the canon I’m building in my head 😇 I think he might get a little obsessive about safety for awhile, in the wake of their heroic, underground-world-defeating victory. that kicks into high gear when he finds out you’re pregnant.

(see more of my to-be-named world building here)

for the first few months of your pregnancy he’s never been more grateful to be working in the same building as you. he takes every opportunity to to visit you at your library posting, between teaching his classes (under the pretense of grading papers. Professor Harrington can generally be found at a one-elbow lean on your front desk any time he isn’t in his office.)

he just loves you so much and wants to make sure you’re doing okay. he brings you ginger soda, the fancy brand you like- kept stocked in the staff fridge when your stomach is roiling with nausea, passed with an apologetic kiss to the back of your hand.

bleeding heart Steve feels so bad he can’t take all the pain away, does his best to alleviate your new and growing discomforts. rubs your shoulders and puffy ankles down with lotion each night. gives up coffee in the mornings (even tho he used to RUN on caffeine) so you can kiss him without aversion 💖. he’s with you for every shaky night-sweat throw up session on the bathroom floor, kneeling to hold you hair back from getting sick in it. warm palm on your lower back in assurance and comfort.

he calls it at 6 months. begs and cajoles and patiently argues (sweetheart, you’re wakin’ up so early with work. you should really rest, anyways- find a nice horizontal hobby to keep you off your feet. treat it like vacation 🫶) which turn into not so patient arguments (practically in your third trimester, goddammit, you want me to go crazy with worry? gonna have premature greys at this rate. let me keep you safe, angel, please. for my sake.) until finally you agree to take the damn maternity leave early.

and u know Steve’s reading all the books. how to be a good first-time dad. 101 lessons for the new parent. mother’s health and wellness magazines. childbirthing books. by the end of your third trimester, he’s gained enough knowledge to be an honorary midwife. could deliver the baby himself, if the situation really called for it. better to be prepared 🫡

and that spring , you’re both lounging on the couch. there’s a sunny spot under the big window, and you’re warming like cats, you feet propped in Steve’s lap. moon of a stomach peeking out from underneath a stolen one of Steve’s soft tees. his eyes are fixed on his library book on gentle parenting until you take a sharp inhale.

there’s a spasming band just under your navel that you press your hands into, and Steve pauses in rubbing absentminded at your ankle. looks up at you in concern and then at his watch and says “whoa, that’s like, 4 contractions in the last 5 minutes. are these for real or what?”

and you’re like “uhmmmm. don’t b mad but my water kind of broke this afternoon.”

and Steve looks at you with this very poorly concealed bewilderment that’s quickly morphing into shock and so you start talking before he can like “no no it’s chill. it’s cool!! 😎 doesn’t even hurt that bad and I knew you’d be home at 4 anyways….”

and you quiet when Steve rips his glasses off and pinches his nose between two fingers and says in a Very strangled voice “yeah. okay. well it’s 5 PM traffic right now which means rush hour which means we need to go to plan C right off the bat…”

and you watch this man unravel in the most efficient way possible. tugging at the roots of his hair until it stands overly-tall but managing to pack all your bags in the car in under 3 minutes. a record. and he gets to the hospital using all the mapped-out backroads so you’re there in a tight 15.

but as it turns out, a speedy arrival to the L&D ward of Hawkins Memorial wasn’t even necessary, because you spend the next 21 hours in the most intense, soul-crushing pain Steve’s ever seen you go thru in his life and it almost breaks him. for real.

he’s so soft for you and no amount of reading about other people giving birth could have prepared him for the heartache and helplessness of seeing you ride the wave of a contraction. or go thru the brutal process of getting an epidural, your hands digging into his forearms hard enough to leave bruises as you leaned on him thru it all.

and Steve did not know he could fall more in love w you but he does, the second you become a parent alongside him, wet and wriggling baby girl placed on your chest. spend two nights in the hospital healing up and fumbling through feedings and giggling over your new tiny daughter. counting her fingers and toes every time you unwrap her. cooing over those big brown eyes that look just like Steve’s.

and with his first baby, Steve is overprotective to the max. only Robin can babysit at first, and that’s only after she’s checked off a rigorous amount of reading material from Steve’s comprehensive required book list. he’s fussy about her routine (truly puts so much of the postnatal stress in himself so you can focus on bonding w/ your babe and resting), is fiercely protective over u and the new baby, like mama bear to the maxxx.

he’s actually GREAT at multitasking and the all consuming constant buzz of listening for certain types of crying and feedings and baby hand-offs thru the night really solidify the fact that he can do this. he’s already a million times better than his own parents at it, a fact of which you constantly remind and encourage him with.

and I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, best thing to ever happen to Steve Harrington is having a second kid bc it chills him way the hell out. for reasons chalked up simply to It's the way the world works, Steve falls into a natural rhythm w your second kid. finds his stride as they say. he’s just as excited and caretaking and protective during your second pregnancy as with your first, but this time without all of the panic and wire-thin nerves. coasts thru calmly.

perhaps a touch too calm, because when you go into labor with your second kid, it’s the middle of a snowstorm in Hawkins, and since u and Steve went thru such a long hard birth with your eldest, you both take your sweet time getting ready to go. saying goodbye to your 3 year-old while aunt Robin comes to stay. even stopping for a snack on the way to the hospital because last time they didn’t let you eat and you were fucking ravenous the whole time.

but then Steve has to drive so slow and safe bc of the snowy roads and you’re still a good 20 mins out when things progress so rapidly and so unlike the first time around; Steve is so level-headed and lets you crush all the bones in his right hand while he drives with his left, coaching you through breathing exercises, trying to keep calm but oh shit, you’re making the same sounds you made three years ago when you brought your first baby into the world, all low groans and gritted teeth and Steve’s pleading with you to hold on, just a few more minutes as he coasts into the emergency bay of L&D. doesn’t give a fuck about parking in a tow zone, they can take the damn car, Steve’s already launching himself out of the drivers seat to scoop you up and hike it indoors.

in the nick of time. 10 minutes and a few pushes later and your second baby is there, all scrunched and tiny, so much smaller than her sister, got the slope of your nose and Steve’s pretty cupids bow. she arrived so fast it feels like a joke, you and Steve cuddling a bit cramped (the way you all like it) in the hospital bed, laughing a little, marveling at the fact that you’re a family of four now, how different it’s all been the second time around. how neither of you realized how much your hearts could expand to engulf your two kids with so much love, it feels like you’re both bursting at the seams 💖

#lu’s anons #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #mom!reader #parent!reader #steve harrington x pregnant!reader #pregnancy cw

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glasscleanerbandung · 2 years

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thesightstoshowyou · 8 months

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Au Courant

- Part 2 -

(Read Part 1 here)

Asa Emory x AFAB Reader

Summary: The night of your weekly support group doesn’t go as planned either.

Warnings: Soulmate AU, angst, violence, attempted mugging, mention of minor character death, manipulation, mentions of stalking.

Chilly evening wind gusts, crispy leaves rustling around your feet as you walk. The breeze stirs up the scent of decaying foliage and rotting trash from a nearby dumpster. Wrinkling your nose, you shrug further into your jacket, wishing you’d worn another layer. The quick tap, tap of your shoes echoes off brick as you pick up your pace.

Ahead lies your destination: An unassuming little church, brick facade freshly power-washed and cleaner than the surrounding buildings. The light above the door shines bright in the gloom, illuminating various fliers taped to glass.

‘One is Enough: Support group for former and non-Pairs. Tuesdays at 6pm,’ one such paper reads. You purse your lips as you heave the door open, still embarrassed to be attending these meetings at all.

It has been almost two months since that day at the grocery store. You thought, maybe after a little time had passed the ache would lesson, but it’s just as sharp, just as crushing as it was when he’d left you in that parking lot.

You’d gone back several times since then. Waiting in your car, eyes trained on the door, you prayed he would show up. If you could just talk to him, just for a few minutes, maybe he would—

Shaking your head, you force yourself to stop spiraling. Replaying these scenarios in your head isn’t healthy. They only make you feel worse. He hasn’t returned to the grocery store. You won’t see him again. You must accept this.

You just wish you knew his name, at least.

Descending the stairs to the right of the door brings you to the basement. A few florescent lights flicker at the far end of the room, illuminating the circle of plastic folding chairs. Nearby sits a little table, customary carafe of hot water and assorted tea and instant coffee packets littering its surface.

Christ, it’s fucking bleak.

You sit quietly and listen, little paper cup of earl gray growing cold in your hands. It’s a full house tonight; many faces you’ve seen before. They mostly talk of loss, of soulmates that passed away too soon. Some speak of isolation, of never finding their other half.

None, however, had a soulmate reject them.

You decline to speak when asked to share your story. You can’t talk about it, not yet. It’s too fresh, and the mortification of having to disclose the fact that not even your soulmate wants you is something you can’t bare to say aloud. Better they think he died.

It kind of feels like he had, anyway.

Meeting adjourned, you stand and make your way back to the stairs, tossing your full paper cup in the trash as you go. You’re out the door and hiking your jacket up around your shoulders when you hear your name called behind you.

Turning, you find Alan, one of the group leaders hurrying out the door after you. His soulmate died a few years ago, poor guy. He beams when you meet his gaze and gives an awkward half wave as he catches up to you.

“Hey, uh, thanks for coming tonight.”

Weird. “Yeah, it’s…um, nice to be with people that get it, you know,” you comment, forcing a wan smile to your face. Alan nods, glances at his feet, back to your face. He sucks in a breath before he speaks.

Oh no. No, no, no, no—

“Um, hey I was…I mean, if you’re feeling up to it, would you, uh, like to…to get some coffee sometime?” You bite the inside of your cheek and muster every ounce of willpower to keep from grimacing.

He’s nice, really, but it’s just too soon. God, you’re never going to be able to come back here, are you?

“Oh! Oh, goodness, that’s…that’s really kind of you, Alan, but I’m not…not sure I’m ready. Yet.” You add the last word to soften the blow. Would you ever be ready? You’re not sure it’s even possible.

Alan smiles gently, warm understanding all over his face. You hope your expression is passive. “Hey, I totally get it. Maybe another time.” He moves to head back inside, then quickly spins around again to add, “Please don’t let this stop you from coming. We’re good, really, okay?”

You fake a grin and nod, hastily turning away so he can’t talk to you anymore. Shit, there goes that group. There have to be others, right?

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you bow your head against the frigid breeze as you hurry back to your car, mood now as sour as the weather. Why did he have to go and ruin this for you—

“Hey.” You startle when a voice speaks directly into your ear. Whipping around you find a young man inches away from you. You hadn’t heard him approach over the blasting wind.

You try to back away but he grasps your arm tightly. “Money. Now. Don’t make a scene.” Your stomach plummets when he produces a knife from his pocket, streetlights glinting off the blade.

You stammer, “I-I don’t have—

“Shut up. Give me what you have.” Blood rushing in your ears, hands shaking, you nod, wondering what the hell you’re going to give him. Everything is in your car. Maybe he wants your keys…?

Behind you, quick footsteps approach. The young man balks, releases you, backs away. Hurriedly, you stumble backward, bumping into whoever had interrupted. Strong hands grip your upper arms, steadying you.

Glancing over your shoulder, your mouth falls open in shock. It’s him. The man from the grocery store.

Your soulmate.

He wears that same cold expression he had at the supermarket. He’s not looking at you though, his dark gaze instead trained on the would-be thief.

He releases you just as the young robber attempts makes his escape. You watch in stunned silence as your soulmate pursues, powerful legs giving him a surprising burst of speed. The thief darts down an alley, the man hot on his heels.

Now, silence, save for your frantic breathing. Your wide eyes are glued to where you watched them disappear, your heart throwing itself wildly against your ribs. What if he gets hurt, or worse? What should you do?

The wind blusters, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. You’re about to call for help when a dark figure emerges from the alley. The air leaves your lungs in a rush of relief, your trembling hand gripping the front of your coat. He’s okay!

And he’s walking right toward you.

You swallow thickly, your heart now hammering for a different reason. What will you say? How will he respond? Are you about to get your heart broken again?

Wait, what the hell is he even doing here?

“Are you alright?” You blink and dazedly look up into his eyes. They look black in the darkness, glittering in the light of the street lamps just as the knife had.

“I…yeah, I think so. T-Thank you.” Your voice quivers as you speak and you realize you’re trembling from head to toe. Is it from fear or the chill air?

“I lost him,” the man laments, motioning to the alley. You nod, amazed he even went after him in the first place.

“Should…do I need to call the cops or something?” You hate that you sound so helpless in front of him.

“Do you remember what he looks like?”

You pause, realizing you can’t even recall what clothes he’d been wearing. Timidly, you shake your head. The man shrugs.

“Not much they can do then.” You nod, your teeth worrying your bottom lip. The urge to reach out and touch him is almost too great to resist. He watches you so intently, keen eyes trained on every shift of expression, every movement of your nervous hands.

What is he thinking, you wonder? Is this it? Will he leave now, for good?

Instead, he surprises you. “Let me walk you to your car.” You can’t suppress the hopeful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Your heart stutters when his warm palm finds your lower back. He turns and guides you down the street toward your vehicle. His body is warm too, comfortingly so. You hope it’s not too obvious when you lessen the gap between you, your arm brushing his as you move.

You walk in silence for a few beats, gathering the courage to say what’s been on your mind for weeks. Clearing your throat, you steel yourself.

“Why did—

“I panicked,” he interrupts. Taken aback, you glance up at him. He offers you a wry smirk. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

You shake your head, baffled. “Does anyone?” you ask. A quick breath leaves him, the barest hint of a laugh.

“I suppose not.”

“And…what are you doing here?”

“I just happened to drive by, as crazy as it sounds. I saw you walking and knew I had to turn around.” His words make you look down to your shoes, heat spreading across your cheeks. Fate had intervened again, it seems.

All too soon, you reach the parking lot. Coming to a stop next to your car, you turn to face him. His lips press into a line and you can almost see him thinking, considering. Your hands wring anxiously.

“My life is…complicated,” he says finally. His words are measured and there’s something there just under the surface, some urgent need for you to understand.

“I don’t care,” you reply instantly, taking a step closer to him. It’s like there’s a magnetic force pulling you in. “I don’t. I just want to be a part of it.”

This close, you can see the muscles in his jaw flex. He breathes in deeply, his exhale a heavy sigh. “My name is Asa,” he says finally.

You smile so wide your face hurts.

Asa watches the taillights of your car until they disappear around a corner. Only then does he allow a victorious smirk to cross his face. He will never tire of the satisfaction of success.

The Collector turns on his heel and strides back down the street. One more task to complete before the night is over.

Everything had gone optimally. The druggie had played his part of “thief” perfectly, thanks to the cash Asa had given him a few hours prior. Snapping his neck in the alley had been so easy. Heaving his dying body into the dumpster had been less simple, but still manageable.

What he said to you was a different matter. Telling you the truth was difficult, much harder than he previously anticipated. Indeed, he had panicked when you’d run straight into his arms, or panicked as much as someone like him could. Meeting his soulmate had not been in his plans. Asa doubted such a thing even existed for him in the first place, and that was preferable.

You were a liability. Getting caught was not an option. The last thing Asa needed was you stumbling into his carefully curated life and spilling marina all over the place. So, he’d left.

But, you would not leave his mind. Your meeting had awoken something deep inside him, some need. The obnoxious ache gnawing away at his gut grew tiresome. As he followed you home from the grocery store parking lot, watched you leave from work to attend your silly support group, as he learned your schedule and your habits from afar, his thoughts had drifted to the potential.

A partner, even more so a soulmate would aid with his disguise: Dr. Asa Emory, entomologist, professor, and now one half of a loving Pair. It’s the epitome of “normal.” Perhaps having you around would also quell the incessant nagging of his coworkers. This is not necessary, of course, but it would be welcome none the less.

You saw him, as well. When you’d collided, you looked into his eyes and caught a glimpse of what he kept so well hidden from everyone else. Asa had seen it on your face, the fear, the understanding. And, still, you chased after him. You wanted this, wanted him. Maybe you could want the Collector too.

Could you learn to understand?

Faking tonight’s emotions, the nerves, the story he fed you about “just driving by” shouldn’t have been so simple, but you’d accepted everything without question. Your gullibility is ideal. Everything about you seems to work in his favor. Is this luck? Or is this what it is like to be a Pair?

Time will tell.

Now, Asa turns his attention to the church door. He only has to wait a few minutes before it swings open. A man exits, papers clutched under his arm. The light above the door illuminates his face when he turns to lock up. It’s him, the one who asked you out earlier this evening.

Peering around the corner, Asa watches the man adjust his coat before heading off down the street. After a slow count to ten, Asa follows, stalking silently.

One more task tonight; a lesson to be taught, a price to be paid in blood.

You belong to the Collector, and the Collector does not share.

#asa emory #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #the collector 2009 #the collection #thesightstoshowyou #this is just turning into a slow burn isn’t it

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