#and how she’s working on a push to try to get better pay and job security for positions like mine and can use my help

[your-ne1ghbor]

My problems with Magnifico and Amaya and how I would rewrite them (TKoRaT AU)

GOD DAMN IT NOW I WISH MAGNIFICO AND AMAYA IN MY VERSION WERE GOOD PEOPLE AHHHHHHHHH-

Ahem..sorry..what was I gonna say?

Oh yea! Feeling like a long rant again, so prepare your eyes!!!💀

Sooo, I kinda have been off putting stuff again since I had school work and a bunch of ideas like this one, so I decided to just share it so I don't loose the idea (ik I can write it down but idk I felt like sharing it). Plus the fact that I've been more chatty lately lol.

Idk how to transition to my problems with Amaya and Magnifico so here.

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Magnifico and Amaya's Character in Wish 2023

Magnifico

Magnifico in the film is...well is a pretty stand up guy! Sure, he is paranoid most of the time and is pretty stubborn, but he is very selfless and a really generous person!

You can say he is more in line with the kings of original films that deeply care for their children, such as King Sefan from Sleeping Beauty, or King Frederic from Tangled.

In this case, he deeply cares for the people of Rosas. I mean yeah, it is weird that you forget what your goal is in life, but if I had nowhere to go and no roof over my head, of course I would go to Rosas to live there safely. Heck, in perspective, you have a chance of your wish getting granted, and don't have to pay rent to live there. It is a pretty fair deal, especially for families who want their kids to grow up out of harms way. Sure, he can't grant all of the wishes, but his reasoning is pretty valid. The only line I could get from the film that would support this would be when he commented on Asha's Grandfather's Wish (which is to inspire the next generation):

"To create what? A rebellious mob perhaps? Inspire them to...to do what? Uh, destroy Rosas, maybe?"

And a lot of people can argue that Saba's wish is very simple or isn't dangerous, but here is the thing. Simple things can have dangerous concequences no matter how small or big they are. Sure, you can start out small, like inspiring people, but it will cause a domino effect that can lead to something greater. Either for the better or worse. And example would actually be Walt Disney himself! He started out small, but without him, animation would not have gotten to where it is today. With his love and passion to art and story telling and taking risks, we WOULD NOT have gotten Puss in Boots, SpiderVerse, OR EVEN ANYTHING ANIMATION WISE. Walt Disney really pioneered animation and without those baby steps, there would not be an Disney, Pixar, Dreamworks, ect. It would just be...well...live action I guess. Hate the Disney company or not, Walt helped get animation to where it is today, and it sucks that his company, even after death, wont try anymore to push the limits of animation except for companies that isn't Disney.

Plus, I don't even blame Magnifico for thinking this way! Although it is sort of annoying that his backstory was told instead of shown (not that there is nothing wrong with telling, but showing for me is a more effective way of story telling for me. You can take the little mermaid for example), I personally understood where he was coming from. In his backstory, his home was destroyed from thieves and barbarians, with his family and possibly everyone he knew being dead. Its honestly tragic, so him making a kingdom for people to not suffer that pain again is very selfless of him and just...feels good in a good way you know?

But as everything in this movie is, it takes the good things and beats it over with a 30 foot pole and leaves it to rot.

He is turned into the villain. And no, it isn't because of Asha not getting what she wanted, and no, it isn't because Amaya, his wife died (she never did btw)! OH NO IT IS MUCH WORSE.

He opens up a mAgIc bOoK oF dArK mAgIc and becomes the bad guy...

...What the fuck. Actually no, applauds to you Disney! This is such a effective way of telling a story. 10/10 forever and ever. Great job! :D

(I am being sarcastic, this is legit the worst way for a good guy becoming the villain, its so fucking stupid-)

He is just simply stripped of his good qualities and only lets his bad qualities shine through. It kind of feels like he was being held at gun point here.

"OH PLEASE BELIEVE THAT I AM ACTUALLY THE BAD GUY. OH PLEASE GOOD CIVILLAIN THEY ARE GOING TO PULL THE TRIGGER-"

Seriously, there was no other way of making him the bad guy? Like legit? Simply remove his backstory and make him evil at the begining. I guess it would be weird if he took the wishes without reasoning, but even then, why give him good qualities when he is supposed to be the bad guy? He became more of a tragic hero than a tragic "bad guy".

I will go more into my problems with him after I talk about Amaya for a bit since talking about her character is more shorter than Magnificos.

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Amaya

The best I can say for her character is that she is like Jimmy Cricket but fell in love with Pinnocio (I know that sounds weird pls spare me).

She is like the voice of reason for Magnifico, and it is best shown when Magnifico FIRST concidered on using the book for "his evil deeds". This scene specifically:

Other than that, she wasn't really a character in the film AT ALL. It sort of sucks concidering what the original concept was (WE WILL GET TO THAT) and instead degraded her character to...well...nothing.

I can't really say anything about her since she just was "I am loyal to my husband" to "actually fuck you I will believe a 17 year old instead of the man I trusted for the amount of years it took to get the kingdom to it's feet." I want to, but I can't. SHE HAS NOTHING.

I wish I can say more about her character, but it would just be me ranting about how trash her is character and was handled. Speaking of that, lets get into why I dislike how they were handled.

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Why does their character bother me so much?

Well it is sort of hard to explain, but I'll do my best.

Magnifico was supposed to be the return of the classic villains. You know, on the levels of Jafar, Ursala, Evil Queen, Malificant, ECT, he just...wasn't. Although he had a bunch of Evil Queen inspirations thrown into his character, it felt like more of refrences to a better film than being apart of his character. Plus, I feel like I sympathized with him way to much. I personally felt more emotion when he was on screen instead of the main character because I understood where he was coming from. Its honestly baffaling to me, since if he didn't have his backstory told to us, I still would not rooted against him. Even without his backstory, it just sounds like he was doing this at the bottom of his heart and empathizing with people who are doing far worse than what he is going through. Its honestly heartwarming seeing a person trying to do good in the world and provide a safe place for everyone to be free from the burden of this world. And want to know something? None of the classic villains had tragic backstories. They are evil for the sake of being evil. There probably was some with sympathetic traits, but from what I recall, there is none. So going with the sympathetic rout is not on par with classic villains.

However, there is nothing wrong with giving your villains sympathetic traits. It makes them feel more rounded as a person/character, and you can get a lot of emotion from that alone. I just think that Magnifico being the villain doesn't make sense since as I said, they made him so generous and kind in the begnining and only destroyed it since "oh wait, we need a villain, so why not make the good guy the villain" and threw in the dark magic book and called it a day. Not even that, but he is not threatening in any way. What I mean by that, is that his powers don't really get an upgrade at all. His magic just sort of turns green and thats it! I even bet that he can crush wishes even without the powers of the magic book.

Going off topic, but making plushie..COUGH... star...(plusie = wish 2023 star) less "stronger" to make the female lead stronger just makes Magnifico's reason for going after plushie's powers even more useless. Even with plushie's powers, HE IS JUST THE SAME. I guess he can now create vines? BUT IT JUST DOESNT WORK. It makes more sense for Magnifico going after plushie when it is powerful because he could see that power as a THREAT to his own powers and his kingdom.

Now for Amaya, her turning against Magnifico is just stupid. Haven't you went through a lot with him? Why the hell did you give up after "oh he can't be saved"? I feel like she could have done a "true loves kiss" sennario which breaks the spell it has on him. Not only that, she barely contributes to the plot at all. The only thing she contributes to the plot is just "getting the teens into the castle so they can free the wishes" then disappears, then reappears at the finally when Magnifico got a little too silly with his drugs-I MEAN wishes haha... Then she becomes the ruler of Rosas. It feels weird and out of place, especially concidering her character MOST LIKELY went through so much with Magnifico only to turn on him when he gets a little mad. It is so stupid. Also, if you just remove her, nothing would really change except the first scene where Magnifico has the book, only this time, no one is there to stop him. And as I said, HER CHARACTER IS NOTHING. But here is the thing...

When concidering the concept version of Amaya, she would have been the villain along side Magnifico. Not as a selfish love relationship or they are together at ones expense (gaining something from one another for only themselves) no, THEY WERE MADLY IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER. Something to note here is that there is barely ANY villain couple or ANY VILLAINS who are like this, let alone love each other for the sake of it instead of a "selfish love relationship and then one gets redeemed " situation (im looking at the mayor of paris from miraculous ladybug). So that, THAT RIGHT THERE, would have been a brilliant idea and brings something new and fresh to the table. Not only that, it is so brilliant that it would have respected all of the male/female antagonists we had for the past 100 years with the company. It is also A RISK. Walt was all about taking risks, even when his company would have floundered at the expense of making art. Snow White for example had a lot of money put into it that if it failed, well Disney would not exist in this timeline so to speak. So taking that risk is also RESPECTING Walt's legacy in a really good way.

I personally just see this as a fun way to explore their characters, especially when you can reflect their characters off of our main characters, Asha and Star (boy), if you want to of course. I can imagine Magnifico kinda be like Gaston from beauty and the beast with some Frollo flare to it (not the lust thing tho but yk what I'm getting at) and Amaya can be like Ursala or Gothal. Plus, it works as a power balance. In the original concept, Amaya was the potion maker while Magnifico does all of the magic. Its honestly a fun way to play with power set ups. Magnifico can just be for show and Amaya can just be a drug dealer (or basically Ursala).

But NOPE. WE HAD TO SHIT ON WALTS LEGACY TO GET THOSE SHINY DOLLAR SIGNS $$$$$$$$$$$$$

Here is the thing: I can get over Star Boy not being in the film, like I get it. We gotta have that girl power in Disney movies now, and they have to be emotionless people. But a Disney power couple? WHAT THE HELL??? LEGIT THE BEST IDEA YOU HAVE EVER HAD IN 100 YEARS. AND YOU GOT RID OF IT BECAUSE WE CAN'T TAKE RISKS ANYMORE??? BUT WALT WOULD HAVE TAKEN IT. YOU WANT TO RESPECT HIS LEGACY? THEN TAKE THE RISK TO DO SO YOU SELFISH, INSUFFERABLE, PIECES OF SHI-

(This section was removed because I went a little crazy there. Sorry about that. I'm not sure how I can transition into the rewrite section, again, soooooo here:)

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How I would rewrite the characters

There is no wrong or right way of rewriting a character, especially when a lot of people interpret them in different ways, and that is completely fine!

This will also fall into somewhat Asha's character and she will be mentioned to fit what I am going for with the characters. I will also leave out what they both do to the wishes since I am making a whole reimagined scene and it is going to include what they do to the wishes there. It will leave out some stuff I had with it here, but I will do my best interpritation of the characters the best I can, even when I can't really say much about it :)

Magnifico:

🌟 For starters, right off the bat, he does not have any of that sort of backstory they gave him for the original. For what I am going for, his backstory will not fit his reasonings for what I am going for, especially for his character.

🌟 He is more on par with the original personality from the original storyboard, specifically this one:

(This also goes for Amaya too personality wise)

🌟 Something that is very different from a lot of villains is that he has sympathetic traits. Although he has more negative traits than positive, he has more of a caring side. Mainly to Amaya, but Asha as well. When Amaya found Asha at their door steps (they aren't holding me hostage as I write out this specific part guys, I swear) at first he saw her as an opportunity to boost his and his wife's popularity that would have other people come more to their kingdom (its more of like they are seeing their "generosity" side and dismiss the problems the kingdom has). But as she continued to live with her adoptive parents, Magnifico became pretty close to Asha. Its mainly because of her passion to what she strives to be, to be like him. Probably feeding into his ego, but you know, nice to know he cares.

🌟 Just because he treats Amaya and Asha well, doesn't mean that the kingdom gets that same treatment. He doesn't care about the people at all. He actually has enjoyment when he hurts or breaks people's dreams. He gets all excited about it and you guys can ask him why he finds enjoyment out of it cause idk it would be more fun that way and gives you guys the chance to interact with him :D

🌟 The wishes boost his powers temporarily. It fades away after either a few days or hours. When his powers are boosted, he has more control over the people. And, to who he consumes the wishes of, can see through their perspective for a little while. It also makes civilians more compliment with him and not question his authority. This does not work with people who have not given up their wishes though. Only to people who have already given up their wishes. He can also make people forget certain memories (that might be Amaya's thing though but I'm not too sure) and can put on much more longer "light shows" (think on the level of: Playing with the Big Boys, but more flashy and crazier). He can also manipulate his surroundings with images, but not at a physical level. (Like hallucinations so to speak)

🌟 His powers without the wishes are more of what he uses to do simple things or put on small light shows. Not as flashy than ones when he has his powers boosted, but he puts on the smaller ones to "gain more people to comply when they have to give up their wishes", one might say, inspire them to do so. He also uses it to help Asha practice with magic (She can't even do magic STFU I KNOW.) It also can be used to take desires that you have deep in your heart.

🌟 If hair jell were to exist in his time period, he would eat it with no regrets (Amaya would make it so he can eat it without getting hurt)🔥

🌟 When he consumes a stars powers, he legit goes insane and can shape shift like one, but more corrupt with no consistancy to what he turns into since he legit gone insane. With a star, a star can shapeshift to whatever it wants or to express it's emotions. With him, it is all over the place. He can't control it.

🌟 Like Frollo, he tortures anyone who is against him, and will not hesitate to take it to the extreme if needed too (or that he wants to, to please himself).

🌟 What his wife says or does, he will willingly go through with it. After all, he loves her with all his heart.

🌟 He can't let Asha out of the castle often to make sure that the people will not take advantage of her generosity (thats what he thinks though, in reality everyone is just scared of the royals.. most of them at least) or learn-

Magnifico then breaks the forth dimention and destroys my house.

Ah...right...

🌟 He is such a silly goober!!1!11!1!11!1 o(*￣▽￣*)o

(He told me to write that or else he will kill my dog and cat. HELP ME PLEASE-)

Amaya

🌟 For starters, she is much more involved in the story than she is in the original. She doesn't have a backstory like what Magnifico had in the original, nor does she need too. Not sure how they would meet at the moment, but I'd like to think that they met and then were like: love at first sight and became more silly as time went on...including their insanity <3

🌟 As I said for Magnifico, she is more on par with the concept version personality wise. But she is more of an Ursala and likes to put herself as the victim to get more people to feel bad for her (MANIPULATION AT ITS FINEST 😜)

🌟 Just like Magnifico, she has sympathetic traits. And she only has it, because of our main character Asha! She just found her one day at the castle doors. She didn't understand why, but like Magnifico, only let her stay for as long as she did to post her popularity with the commoners, and grew closer to her as she became more of a mother figure to Asha. (Ruh Ro, anyone sensing Mother Gothal vibes?) Unlike Magnifico though, she uses her sympathetic traits to get people to comply with their ways better. Her main trait she is good at looking at the person's situation and understand it well, or aka being empathetic. She uses that to her advantage when manipulating them to do whatever she pleases.

🌟 She is more of a witch than anything. I imagine her somewhat like Ursala (yes a heavy load of Ursala), Evil Queen, and Yzma (Emperor's New Groove) when in terms to what they make. She does make a lot of poisons to use if anyone is getting a little too close to the close and they gotta...TAKE THEM OUT without anyone knowing. She can also use it for like a form of medicine too.

🌟 Some potions, like turning people into animals or certain poisons, requires people's desire. More so with turning people into animals as a form of punishment. She can also use her craft at potion making to have her wield magic for a certain amount of time WHEN NEEDED. (Gee I wonder what she will use that for). It can also be used like a drug, or to get someone to comply with what they want a little better than Magnifico. She can put on pretty shows too, but more smoke themed and is better at manipulating her surroundings.

🌟 Although Amaya would teach Asha how to make potions, she worries that the people of Rosas would take advantage of her kindness and use the skills that she would teach Asha to their advantage and form a revolt to take them down. (Which really, with them ruling, who can blame them?)

🌟 I would say she is more of a planner than Magnifico. She plans ahead and makes sure everything is in line with what they want and makes plan Bs or Cs even Ds in case anything would go wrong. Asha actually gained that trait from her believe it or not!

🌟 Magnifico is more reckless than his wife. Amaya is more so less confronting and tries to keep up their image. She actually have certain gestures that Magnifico would take notice too. And since he trusts her a lot, he complies and lets Amaya take lead in certain situations.

🌟 Yes...she also finds enjoyment of seeing people getting tortured. They actually made up a game on how they would torture a certain civilian 💀

🌟 When it comes to how she treats the people of Rosas, she is as I said, less confronting and puts on more of a fake smile and gaslights everyone that their kingdom is fine or whatever (It is not gaslighting when it is telling the truth. I feel so offended right know! DUDE LADY CHILL I AM CREATING YOU RN AND YOU ARE ALREADY TRYING TO GASLIGHT ME WTF😭)

🌟 When she has a star's powers, I feel like it would let her create whatever the fuck she wants at an insanity level. Wishing stars create items that would help users on their journey, so with her, she can use it to her advantage. Also she becomes just as insane as her husband. It also gives a difference in terms to what they would do when they have a star's powers. Magnifico would be able to shapeshift at a corrupt level, and Amaya can manipulate her surroundings that would become reality so to speak at an insane level. I chose this one since it fits her not being more confrontant while Magnifico is more so on that. She be lurking in the shadows like a cat :3

🌟 How she knows so much about the people, is by her cat! I think the cat would be called Custos. Idk the name yet, might go with the concept version of the name.

🌟 I learn more about my prey before I strike at their weakest point. (Nah that's very catnap of you. Unless you want to fall asleep for 100 years, I suggest you choose your words carefully. Bruh alright lady💀) And yes she wrote that in...

🌟 She is such a silly lil guy...AMAYA STOP LET ME BE SILLY U SON OF A BI-😡

Erm anyways...(she tried to eat my dog and steal my cat. GRRRR)

I feel like it would be fun if it is just expanding their empire for their main goal or taking over the world. Kind of like this song as their modivation:

I want this to be their goal since it kind of feels like some of the old Disney Villains, for me at least :3 (And I am having WAYYYY to much fun with their characters already hehe)

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Final Thoughts

On a final note, I will mention that there is a possibility that all of this wont make it into the final version. And in all honesty, I'm actually shocked I was able to compose all of this together without mentioning what they do with the wishes, like what- 😭

I also am still debating if Amaya and Magnifico made the kingdom or it was passed down through generations. Don't know yet tbh :^

Also, Amaya was sort of difficult for me to jot down since I didn't know how to get her into the story, and I think I am slowly, but surely getting there :D

I also really tried to make it different and fresh from the other versions and I am very excited to show that "I DECIDE WHAT EVERYONE DESERVES" when it is done (it is now We decide what everyone Deserves).

You can also ask both Amaya and Magnifico questions regarding the info you know about them now and about how they feel with the other versions of them if you want to of course (and I can show off their designs HEHHEH)

And yes...I had too much fun with writing out how they would interact with the post. DW, they wont interact here in the Final Thoughts section hehe ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I might also do a post on Asha since I have been pretty quiet on her character design/rewrite and another post about Star Boy since I wanna get more in depth with the ideas of Wishing Stars in my AU.

Speaking of Au...

what to call this AU of mine hmmmmm

I'll go with The Kingdom of Roses and Thorns, or TKoRaT. Feels fitting to me, at least for what I am going for story wise and character wise. Might change it since I can't stick with one thing, but rn it rolls off the tongue nicely.

Until then, I hope you have a great day and I hope Magnifico and Amaya don't steal your dreams 💀

@oh-shtars @annymation @chillwildwave @signed-sapphire

(They are thinking of working with your versions of Magnifico and Amaya oh boy not good 💀)

#currently 10 pm at night and took me #5 hours #to compose this rant #holy fucking shit #my brain is weird #oh shit #magnifico #and amaya #are gonna murder me for revealing some of the stuff #ruh roh #pls dont kill me bro #sobbing #anyways tags #disney wish #fypage #tumblr fyp #explorepage #foryou #star wish #king magnifico #queen amaya #long post #story rewrite #wish #wish disney #wish movie #wish 2023 #asha wish #asha #TKoRaT AU

[starbuck]

statewide work conference destroyed my faith in humanity and then the bus ride home with my coworkers restored it. 💕💕

#literally spent the whole day half-dissociated and overstimulated and despondent #and then we ride back and literally the WHOLE BUS (kindly) bullies me into getting a smoothie when we stopped for gas #and i have some great convos about interpretation with my coworker #AND i have a super long and detailed conversation with the president of our friends group #about how i’m apparently a natural-born People-Influencing Person who should leverage those skills going forward #and how she’s working on a push to try to get better pay and job security for positions like mine and can use my help #in gathering testimonies and getting people organized #and like. !!!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!!!! #(the fact that i was twisted around like a pretzel to talk to her the entire time and felt MASSIVELY carsick afterwards is beside the point #it was literally just so good… i am full of love #i truly love and appreciate my coworkers so much it is UNREAL #i have to make cards for them or something… #they deserve the world and then some

[vivwritesfics]

Fake It Till You Make It - CL16

The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?

Fake Dating turned real dating trope

6.3K

For the purpose of this story, I have fabricated the royal family of Monaco. I have created the members of the family, their roles and what they do, using only the fact that Monaco has a royal family

ROYAL MESS

In the early hours of the Morning on Friday, the 19th of May, Princess Y/N of Monaco was found lying in the street outside of MK Club Monaco after what appears to be a wild night out. Fans of the princess know this is no new occurrence for her.

When asked, employees in the club were quoted as saying: “It is always a delight to serve the princess. She is always polite and kind when ordering from the bar, always offering to pay for the drinks of those around her."

"Princess Y/N is fun to party with, sure. But she takes it too far, gets too drunk, and leaves us all wondering how far is too far?" Said one club patron to our reporters.

It leaves us all wondering how far is too far for the Princess of Monaco? When will her family finally take action against her partying ways?

Pictures such as these are not uncommon for the Princess of Monaco, showing us just how far royal privilege goes. It is at times like these where we thank any higher power above us that she is just the spare

Y/N's brother threw the newspaper down in front of her. His jaw was tense and his eye twitched, having just read out the entire article. "Seriously?" He said and leaned forward on his desk, staring down at his sister.

"I don't know what you're so upset about," Y/N muttered as she picked at the dirt beneath her nails. "You're not in the article."

Her brother, Herni, Prince of Monaco, let out a huff. He wanted to grip his hair and pull out of frustration, but he couldn't do that, he had to be pristine and perfect.

For years he and his family had been working to try and improve Y/N's image. It was no easy task. Well, Y/N certainly didn't make it easy. The royal family had tried to control the press, control what the night clubs were saying; they had tried to control Y/N, but none of it was working.

Henri was at his wits end.

He stood straight and turned around, looking towards the window. "How do you not understand that your actions reflect our entire family? That this shit makes all of us look bad, not just you?"

"Like the article said, I'm just the spare," she spat back, not looking up from her nails.

"Oh, don't give me that shit." Henri tried to keep his composure calm, tried not to lose his shit, but Y/N was making it very, very hard. "You're just a spoiled, little brat," he hissed.

Y/N let out a dry laugh. "I'm the selfish one? Seriously, Henri?" She called and he shot her a dirty, venomous look. So, she continued. "Who was it that threw a tantrum like a child when he didn't get the Ferrari 250 GTO for twenty-third birthday?"

Her brother glared, easily hiding his surprise that she remembered the name of the car he had so desperately wanted seven years ago.

But then Henri dropped his glare. She was just lashing out because she was pissed off about the article, he realised as he sat in his seat. "Go on, get out of here," he said to her, his head falling into his hands. He grabbed the newspaper article and slipped it back into his desk drawer.

Y/N didn't have a job. She was twenty-two, living fast and living off her family. Her family had tried to force her to get a job, but that had only pushed her into being more wild and out of control. Henri, though, he had a job. Their father had given him the important task of keeping an eye on Y/N and putting out her fires. It was an exhausting job, one that had him losing sleep.

He had to do something, he had no idea what.

There was one thing Henri could force his sister to do. And that was attend the Monaco Grand Prix.

Every year Henri and Y/N went to the Monaco Grand Prix. Y/N could still remember the first time she ever attended the Monaco Grand Prix. She was just ten years old, an eighteen year old Henri holding her hand as they walked through the paddock. She remembered standing up on the podium, watching as her brother gave a trophy to Jenson Button, and going to give Fernando Alonso a trophy of his own.

This happened every year. And, every year since she was a little girl, Y/N looked forward to seeing Fernando Alonso. The Spaniard always seemed to remember her, always greeting her with a kind, wide smile. Although Y/N loved the races, this was her favourite part of the weekend.

Because she really did love the races. As much as she tried to act nonchalant, Henri knew she loved it, loved the sounds of the cars as they came driving past.

This year, Henri kept Y/N in front of him as they walked through the paddock, waving at the drivers and the teams. The Grand Prix was full of celebrities, as it was every year. And, as with every year, Y/N and Henri were the talk of the town.

In the Red Bull garage, Y/N and Henri met Tom Holland, the Spider-Man, who was awestruck. He couldn't quite believe it as the youngest member of the Monaco Royal Family stood in front of him, talking to him about his role as Peter Parker.

At the Aston Martin garage, Y/N ran straight into Fernando's arms. "There she is," he said as she hugged him back. The bond Y/N had with Fernando was special. They'd saw each other only once a year at the Monaco Grand Prix and, in a weird way, it was like he had watched her grow up right in front of his eyes.

He knew of her partying ways and it worried him, just like it would a father to his daughter. "How have you been?" He asked, his Spanish accent thick.

As Henri moved onto the Ferrari garage, his favourite garage, as Y/N chatted to Fernando. Her favourite garage was wherever Fernando was, and she wasn't afraid to admit that. They caught up on the last year and Fernando introduced her to his teammate, a man Y/N had only met briefly before.

In the Ferrari garage, Henri said hello to Carlos Sainz. Carlos and Henri had always been friendly, that friendliness growing into some kind of friendship when he moved to Ferrari.

But then then was Charles Leclerc.

Herni loved Charles. He had several of his old F1 cars, including one of his Sauber cars, in his private collection. He'd been following Charles's career closely as he represented their country. The day he had his first win in Monaco was going to be a big day for Henri.

"Ah, Charles!" Henri called as he spotted him, already in his race overalls.

The overalls themselves were red and white, matching the flag of Monaco. Charles grinned when he saw Henri, striding over to the prince. "How are you? How is your sister?" He asked as they walked together through the Ferrari garage.

Henri pulled a face. "She is... she is Y/N," he answered with a curt nod. "Anyway, how about you? How is your season going?" He asked.

Charles gave a pained smile, and that was answer enough for Henri. "Ah," he said as they continued to walk. "Well, today will be your day."

The pair continued to chat as they walked through the paddock, catching up like old friends. Because, by this point, they were old friends. Herni asked about Charles's family and his plans for the summer break, and about his girlfriend.

Again, Charles gave Henri a look. "Ah, no girlfriend," Henri said and Charles nodded.

"I got a bit of bad publicity from it," Charles said. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."

Suddenly, Henri got an idea. An incredible, wonderful, terrible idea. He looked at his friend, wearing a grin, and said, "I think we can help each other out."

It was clear Charles was confused. So, Henri continued. "My sister wild and out of control," he said. "She needs somebody to get her imagine under control, and you need some good publicity. Take my sister on a couple of dates, take her to some grand prix and it'll make the both of you look good."

Charles suddenly frowned. "What? Henri, we can't do that," he said.

Henri checked his watch. The race was bound to start any moment now, he needed to grab Y/N and go sit. "Think about it," he said to Charles, wished him good luck, and went back to the Aston Martin garage to find his sister.

Henri didn't say anything to his sister as they watched the race. They watched Charles go from pole to second, Henri trying not to let the disappointment show on his face as he watched Y/N give Charles his second place trophy.

There was a good few weeks where Henri didn't hear anything from Charles. So, he didn't say anything to Y/N, whilst also trying to get her under control.

It wasn't working; Henri was close to begging. He kept an eye out for Charles's name in the press, looking for that bad bit of publicity he was talking about. And there was a lot of it, international news outlets accusing Charles of cheating, saying his bad start to the season was because of Karma.

It wasn't looking good for him, thought Henri as his phone vibrated.

He picked it up and read through his messages.

Charles Leclerc

I'm in

***

It was rare for Y/N and Henri to eat dinner together. He was always busy and she didn't give a shit. But, today, Henri insisted.

They sat across from each other, a ridiculously long table between them. Any attempt at conversation was near to impossible with the distance between them.

So, with no thought of decorum, Y/N picked up her dinner and moved down the table coming to sit right beside her brother. "What were you saying?" She asked as she tucked into her dinner.

Henri cleared his throat. "I've been speaking with Charles Leclerc."

"Okay?" Y/N looked up at him, her brows furrowed. "Good for you, Hen."

"Just listen, please," he insisted and Y/N fell quiet, returning her attention back to her food. "Its been decided by your PR team, dad, and I, that it would be best if you were seen to be with someone more... presentable. And our friend Charles if also in need of a bit of good press at the minute."

"So you want me to fake date Charles Leclerc?"

Henri nodded his head. "Not fake date him, exactly. Just be seen with him."

Y/N sat back, tapping her fork against her plate. "Okay, why should I?"

Grinning, Henri used his fork to scoop everything into a pile on his plate. "Because, if you keep up with your partying lifestyle, we're cutting you off."

She said nothing. Throwing her fork down, she pushed her chair back and stormed off.

That was the thing with Y/N. She didn’t care for propriety or her image. She did what she wanted, without much thought of how it made the royal family of Monaco. She was the weekly scandal in the newspaper, the wild child.

Henri’s head fell into his hands.

For the next week, while Charles was away from Monaco at another race, Henri set everything up. He booked out a restaurant for them, picked out something for his sister to wear and prepared her for her date with a script. Henri was controlling everything. He had every move planned out and had Y/N run through it with him several times.

He was a complete control freak.

For the date, Henri gave his sister a set of rules. Charles was his friend, after all, and this was a PR stunt. Anything he could do to prevent Y/N from embarrassing the royal family any further.

That was how she found herself in an empty restaurant, an almost empty glass of wine in front of her. Charles Leclerc hadn’t arrived at the restaurant yet; fashionably late, Y/N assumed. She was five minutes away from leaving.

But then he walked in. It was not possible for this man to look bad, Y/N realised as he strode towards her. His outfit was simple, a white shirt, buttoned almost to the top (just revealing a bit of chest) and a pair of black trousers. His hair had that usual fluff, that he seemed to achieve effortlessly.

Y/N had seen pictures of him online since his career began. He always looked good, so it was no surprise he did now.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he sat in the seat opposite her.

As if to prove a point, the princess finished her drink and placed her glass down. There was a flash to her left, a camera going off. But she didn't care - Henri could put out the fire he created.

Henri had given her a script, but Y/N wasn't going to follow it. That was boring. "Your brother is in F2, right?" Asked Y/N as food was brought over to them (Henri had decided what they were going to eat when he booked out the restaurant, arranging the food to be brought over as soon as Charles arrived).

Charles looked at her, clearly confused. "Um, yes," he answered. "He's with the Ferrari Drivers Academy," he said and took a sip of his own drink. "What is it that you do?"

She snorted. She hasn't meant to snort, but she couldn't help it. "I'm a princess, what do you think I do?"

But it wasn't clear. To Charles, it seemed like all she did was party. According to her brother, all she did was party. So Charles couldn't be blamed to think that.

He didn't answer her. This dinner wasn't going too well. That much was clear to everyone.

Letting out a sigh, Y/N sat back in her seat. "We need to make this look good," she said, glancing to her left. At the paparazzi not quite hidden in a bush outside of the restaurant. "You know what the news articles will be, right? 'Monaco Royalty... something something else."

Charles thought for a moment. The restaurant wasn't the right setting, this was clear.

So, he finished his drink and looked across the table, at the princess sat opposite him. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Fuck yeah Y/N wanted to get out of here. She grabbed her coat and, together, she and Charles walked out of the restaurant. A crowd of paparazzi followed them as they made their way to Charles's Ferrari SF90 Stradale.

It was a beautiful car, one Henri had wanted for the longest time. He he was going to flip his lid once he learnt that Y/N had been inside of it.

The paparazzi continued taking pictures of them as they drove off. "Where are we going?" She asked as he drove her through the streets of Monaco.

Y/N and Charles found themselves in a bar, three drinks deep. They talked casually, more like acquaintances than anything else.

Nothing happened in the bar, they just got to know each other a little better, without the awkward conversation of a formal dinner. Y/N found out about his love for music and he learnt that she was more than a just a party girl.

The next morning Y/N woke up in one of the many guest rooms with a pounding headache. She didn't remember getting back to the palace and was still in her dress from the night before. "Shit," she groaned, the light shining through her windows hurting her eyes.

She sat up and ran her hands through her knotted hair. Painkillers. She needed painkillers and she needed them now.

With no clothes to change into, she searched through the drawers for the much needed painkillers. And when she didn't find any, she made her way to her brothers office. "Henri," she sang as she pushed her way inside. And then she was leaning against the door, holding his head.

"I did it, I went on a date with Charles Leclerc."

"Well done," Henri said as he sat back in his chair. "He's taking you to Canada next week, so pack warm," he said and went back to his work.

Y/N glared at her brother and stormed off, making her way back to bed.

***

Canada. The only reason Y/N agreed to go was to see Fernando Alonso. She was there as Charles Leclerc's guest, but she didn't care. She ran straight to the Aston Martin garage, ran straight over to Fernando.

The Spaniard was surprised to see her, that much was clear. "What're you doing here?" He asked as she threw her arms around him.

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm here as Charles's guest," she answered.

Fernando's eyes went wide. "Really?" He asked, his brows furrowing.

"I know," she answered.

It really was a surprise. Fernando had never even seen the princess of Monaco so much as interact with the Monégasque driver. He knew Prince Henri was a fan, but he didn't know Y/N was. So, he asked about it.

She didn't want to lie to Fernando. But she had to seel it. For the sake of the tabloids, she had to sell it. "Well, we met at the Grand Prix, hit it off, and the next thing I knew, we were going to dinner together."

"Dinner together? Wow," said Fernando. "So, do you want me to go easy on him out there?"

Grinning, she shook her head. "You do what you need to do to bring home a win for us Aston Martin fans," she said.

They said their goodbyes and Y/N made her way to the Ferrari garage.

It wasn't as if she and Charles knew each other; they'd drunkenly discussed things, but that was it. But now, she was playing the girlfriend, tucked into his side as he kept his arm wrapped around her. Before the race he held her close and she tried her best not to look uncomfortable. Play the part. All she had to do was play the part.

During the race she stayed in the Ferrari garage, watching alongside Charles's brother. Y/N had met Arthur before, she just couldn't remember where.

"So you're dating my brother?" Asked Arthur as they watched the race.

Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the screen and nodded her head.

"How did that happen?"

She just pretended not to hear him.

This went on and on, the pair going on the odd date in random countries and Y/N joining him at races. But they were putting on a performance around each other, trying to play that part. They weren't being themselves and, therefore, not getting to know each other.

She'd joined Charles in Silverstone. They'd held hands as they walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at cheering fans. Their relationship was public knowledge now and, first the first time in the last four years, she wasn't in the tabloids for a bad reason.

Henri had arranged a date in Monaco for the pair once they got back from the British Grand Prix. They flew back with Pierre Gasly, an old friend of Charles. Y/N had only met Pierre earlier that year, in Monaco when her brother had introduced them.

Pierre was good fun for the flight home. But, by the time they got there, Y/N was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut her eyes. Looking at Charles, their was no doubt that he was just as tired as she was; he was the athlete after all.

As he drove, he blinked continuously and rapidly, his tiredness evident. Her apartment was just around the corner, she realised as they were stuck in traffic. It wouldn't be the worst thing if they blew off the dinner, right?

"I live near here," she said, looking at him.

Charles blinked as he looked at the stationary cars in front of him. "Am I not taking you to dinner?" He asked, somewhat surprised.

"Well, I was thinking we could go back to my apartment and eat some pizza," she said.

"But what do we have to gain from that?"

That was right, everything they were doing had an objective. Everything they were doing had a purpose. Having dinner in her apartment, where there were no cameras to watch them, had no purpose.

"We wouldn't die on the road from you being so tired if we went back to mine."

Charles realised she had a point. When the traffic began moving, he took her directions and drover to her apartment. They made their way inside, practically collapsing on the couch.

"Sorry for the state of it," Y/N muttered as Charles sat on the sofa beside her.

Her apartment really was a mess. Clothes, dirty dishes, pizza boxes everywhere. It wasn't very royal of her. "Don't worry about it," he said quietly as Y/N gathered up the dishes and placed them on the counter in the adjacent kitchen.

Charles didn't want to ask, but he was wondering how the apartment of the Princess of Monaco was so disgusting. He hadn't even realised she had an apartment of her own, assumed she just lived at the palace.

"Can I get you something to drink?" Asked Y/N as soon as she had ordered the cheese and pepperoni pizzas. It was a safe choice, considering she didn't know what Charles wanted. "I've got beers, wine, spirits, anything you want."

She didn't hide her surprise when Charles requested a beer. "I thought you were all... fancy and stuff," she said as she handed him the opened bottle.

"The princess of Monaco is passing me a beer and she thinks I'm fancy," he said with a laugh.

But he was undeniably tired. His laugh turned into a yawn and Y/N turned on the television. They watched in silence as they waited for the pizza to arrive.

"I didn't think you'd be allowed to eat pizza," said Y/N as she checked her phone, checked where abouts the delivery driver was. Just a few minutes away. "You know, considering you're an athlete."

"I won't tell my trainer if you won't," he answered.

Just a few minutes later and Y/N was running to get the pizza. She didn't have to worry about disguising herself, running down to the lobby of the apartment in her comfiest pyjamas. She wasn't like her brother, where he was always prim and proper; she hid in plain sight.

When she came back up with the pizzas, Charles was already snoring lightly on the sofa. Y/N would have left him to sleep, left him on the sofa, but he hadn't eaten since his race. As soon as he'd eaten something, she'd let him go to sleep.

So, she gently woke him, placing one of the pizza boxes in front of him.

Again, they were in silence as they ate. But the food was giving them some sort of strength and energy and, by the time they were finished, neither were quite ready to go to sleep.

So, they talked. They talked and talked, properly getting to know each other. Charles told her stories of his karting days, of his friendship with those on the grid. Y/N told him about her childhood as a princess and her friendship with Fernando Alonso. She didn't get into the subject of her partying habit, not when she realised she didn't miss it.

"No way," Y/N scoffed, sipping her beer.

Charles laughed as he nodded his head. "Seriously. I woke up shouting 'box box'!" He insisted.

She let out a laugh of her own. "Looks like I'll need to have words with the strategists."

Their evening continued much in this fashion. She hadn't realised he was an artist, not until he showed her some music that he hadn't yet released. He was a talented pianist, and Y/N couldn't stop herself from calling him a tortured artist.

There was no way she was going to let him sleep on the sofa. That would be like letting the Queen of England sleep in the dog house. So, she let Charles sleep in her bed, a wall of pillows keeping them separated.

***

There was a shift in their relationship dynamic after that. Things came easier to them. They were still faking it, but they weren't putting on a performance anymore. It was natural.

When they weren't together, she found herself texting him. Any time she had something to say, she texted him, without caring whether he had time to text her back yet. When Y/N wasn't at a grand prix, Charles was pictured laughing at his phone, and everybody knew who he was texting

CL16

what do you want your contact picture to be?

Please don't make it something embarrassing

Oh come on, Charles

I doubt there are any embarrassing pictures of you

okay i take it back

oh god

look at this little guy

you were so cute

what happened?

Hey!

I'm still cute!

The ladies love me

sure they do, sunshine

She found herself sending him anything and everything that made her laugh. Whether they knew of this shift, it wasn't clear.

But Henri certainly did.

The next part of this story takes place during the Belgian Grand Prix. Y/N hadn't attended. She'd been to the last few and, for once, her brother wanted to spend time with her.

"I'm impressed," Henri said as they sat on the balcony, tea in front of them. "You're selling this whole relationship really well."

But his sister wasn't listening. Instead, she was giggling down at her phone as she texted. "Y/N," Henri prompted and she looked up from the phone. "Can you put it down? I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

Reluctantly, Y/N put her phone on the table. "What were you saying, Hen?" She asked and picked up her little tea cup. The rim was decorated with pink, yellow and purple flowers.

"I was saying that you've really made this relationship with Charles look real. If I didn't know better, I really would think you were dating," said Henri. He straightened his posture and sipped his tea. "What is he doing during summer break?"

She shrugged her shoulders. Summer break was something they'd only briefly talked about, while Y/N was in his apartment, trying out his sim rig (spoiler alert, she was fucking terrible at sim racing. But it was still good fun, pretending to be her pretend boyfriend). He'd invited her on his yacht by literally saying, "join me on my yacht during summer?"

It was an invitation Y/N couldn't turn down, so she just said, "sure."

Henri continued. "Why don't you invite him to the palace for dinner?"

That was too much of a step into real relationship territory. Immediately she shook her head. "You do know that he isn't actually my boyfriend, right?" She pressed, placing her teacup back down onto the saucer.

Henri waved her off. "I know, I know," he said. "It would just be nice, you know?"

Suddenly Y/N felt a little sick. This was skidding way too far into relationship territory. Fake boyfriends didn't have dinner with her family, fake boyfriends didn't take him to her apartment just because he could.

The next time she saw Charles, Y/N was on his yacht. She laid in the sun, arm across her stomach and her eyes shut. It was lovely, so fucking lovely.

Charles sat beside her, passing her a drink. "Thank you, Charlie," she said with a smile as she sat up. "Best fake boyfriend ever." He patted her knee and stayed at beside her as the yacht gently moved on the water.

They spoke and, as they spoke, Y/N realised they never spoke about how fake their relationship was. In fact, Charles wasn't acting as though their relationship was fake. Even as they walked to his apartment, through the building and away from prying eyes, he still held her hand.

When she sat on his yacht, talking to him about whatever, he kept his hand on her knee.

As they day got later, the two began drinking. "To us," He called and tapped his glass against Y/N.

"To us," Y/N repeated and drank her drink. They slept on the yacht that night, with Y/N changing from her swim wear into something a little warmer as the sun disappeared.

They ate together, drank together, and just spent time together. It was nice, giggling and leaning on each other. Charles just loved spending time with her, it seemed. He gave her his hoodie when she shivered and, when that wasn't enough, he tucked her into his side.

They were both getting tired and were both ready to go to bed. Y/N glanced up at him from her place against his side. That was when he leaned down to kiss her.

Y/N stood up immediately. "Woah, what the fuck?" She cried as she jumped away from him. "Charles, what the hell are you doing?"

"I... Just thought..."

"Well you thought wrong!"

Y/N stormed off, heading to the bedroom. She set up the bed, placing the cushions between them. They'd slept in the same bed several times since that very first time in her apartment, but hadn't since.

The next day, she got Charles to take to back to the marina. Whether paparazzi saw them or not, she didn't care as she stormed away from him without so much as a goodbye.

OFF THE RAILS

Just when we thought things were looking up for the Monégasque Princess, it seems she is, once again, off the rails.

Princess Y/N has spent the last few months seemingly dating Formula One driver, Charles Leclerc. In this time, it appeared that the princess had halted her wild ways. The clubs she so often frequented were quiet without her presence.

But, after a rocky night on his luxury yacht, the couple appeared to go their separate ways. The Princess was seen storming away from the yacht on Monday morning.

Fans had been hoping that this was just a little spat between the popular couple, but after the Princess was spotted partying in Monaco just the night previous, fans soon lost hope.

She'd done so well staying in the medias good books for the last few months. But, ever since that night on the yacht, Y/N needed to get out. She needed to get out and have a wild night.

She'd never been a relationship person. When Charles had gone to kiss her, she'd been terrified. Why be in a relationship person when every relationship you've had was somebody trying to screw you over?

Because she had loved every minute with Charles. Every fucking minute. For once it felt like she wasn't being used, and they weren't even in a relationship. But Y/N couldn't see a future with him, not one where at least one of them didn't get hurt.

So, she ran away from it. She ran from him and her feelings, ran back into the embrace of the bottle. She partied the night away without caring who saw it.

Of course Charles saw it. It was the first thing he saw when he opened any form of social media. Her face plastered across his screen. Her in a low cut dress that perfectly showed off her figure. He sucked in a breath. She was meant to be his girl, and she didn't want him.

Even though they weren't together anymore, Y/N did stop with the partying. She calmed down immensely, no longer appearing in the tabloids. No longer appearing anywhere, actually.

Charles tried his best to forget about her. He didn't sleep around, he just put all of his energy into his work. He took sponsorship deals, did photoshoots and spent all of his time training. All to get Y/N out of his head.

Well, it didn't work. Charles couldn't forget about her. It was taking everything in him not to go to her apartment and tell her how he had fallen for her while they were supposed to be pretending to date.

Charles messaged Henri, asked how Y/N was doing, but Henri didn't seem to know.

That was because she hadn't been seen outside of her apartment in weeks.

When Henri told Charles, he knew he had to do something.

After attending the Italian Grand Prix alone, Charles made his way to Y/N's apartment. He had all of his things, having not made his way back to his own apartment.

When he knocked on her door, there was a moment before anything happened. He listened out, listening as she got off of the couch with a groan and walked over to the door.

The girl that answered the door was the girl that Charles was in love with, but she was hard to recognise. Hair a mess, bags under her eyes, wearing clothes that hadn't been washed in days.

When she pulled open the door, her face dropped. "Oh," she muttered, leaning against the door, not letting him see the mess inside. "What are you doing here?"

"Your brother told me you're not doing good."

"So?"

She was so quick to shut him down, to try and get him away from her apartment.

But, Charles pushed on. "So, I came to check on you. I'm worried about you."

Finally, she pushed open the door and allowed him inside.

The apartment was a state. Trash everywhere, dirty clothes about the floor, all of her dishes used and piled up around the apartment. There was half eaten food that was definitely rotting.

"Shit, Y/N," said Charles as she pushed the door shut.

She glared and threw herself back down onto the sofa. "Oh, fuck off," she said.

Charles sat on the end of the couch. It was the only place in the apartment that filthy. "I just want to help you," he said and began picking up the clothes on her floor.

And then Y/N sat up, causing Charles to stop what he was doing. "Why? Our entire relationship was fake, so why do you care?" She spat.

"Because." Charles stood up a little straighter, dropping her clothes into a little pile. "Because I love you. I know we were only fake dating, but it felt so real! And I realised that I actually do love you! I want to date you for real! I want to be the best real boyfriend ever, not the best fake boyfriend ever!" He exclaimed. "I don't know why you're so opposed to the idea. Those dates we went one, the ones after that first night in your apartment, they were amazing. I wouldn't have invited you to my yacht if I didn't seriously like you."

Y/N scoffed sarcastically. "Sure you do, Charles. Sure you, a world famous Formula One driver who can have anybody he wants, wants me, the troubled spare, the princess that nobody wants." She said it quietly, picking at her nails.

He leaned down in front of her, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. "I do. I really do want to be with you. Princess Y/N of Monaco, I want to take you on dates and I want you to join me at races. I want to show you off in the paddock and I want to take you on my yacht, kissing you with your permission. I want you, Y/N."

But the way she looked at him, she looked ready to cry. "I can't do heartbreak," she said and pulled her hand away from his. "Not with you, Charles. I can't handle you breaking my heart," she said and stood up.

Charles suddenly pulled her close. "I won't break your heart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "Now, go take a shower. I'll sort out... all of this."

Y/N did just that. She turned on the water and hopped into the shower as Charles picked up the rubbish. Mainly empty wrappers and bottles of soft drinks. There were plenty of pizza boxes that he shoved behind the bin, just for the time being. After that, Charles picked up her clothes from the floor. He shoved what he could into her washing machine and turned it on, leaving to pick up the plates.

When Y/N hopped out of the shower, the apartment wasn't clean. But it was better. The floor was now visible. As Charles cleared up the space between the couch and the television, Y/N set about washing the dishes.

"Pizza?" Charles offered as he walked over with some half full glasses and cups.

But Y/N shook her head as she scrubbed a bowl that was once full of cereal. "You know, for the first time in a while, I'm not feeling like pizza."

"We'll get you something better, then," Charles said and set about ordering food.

They sat on the couch, Y/N in the last of her clean clothes, tucked into his side. "If we're gonna try this, we'll need to go on proper dates," she muttered, her head against his chest. "And, eventually, you'll need to come and have dinner with my family."

Charles let out a laugh. "Relax, chérie, we're gonna take it one step at a time."

One step at a time.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader smut #charles leclerc x you #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #cl16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x reader

[girlgenius1111]

all that i did to try to undo it

engen!reader... platonic ingrid & reader + platonic mapi & reader

r lives with her sister, but their relationship is rather rocky. can they fix it before it's broken beyond repair? angst. pretty much just angst. r is not mentally well. proceed with caution.

–-----

Moving from Norway to Spain wasn’t your idea. It seemed that your parents had had quite enough of you. You knew you could have been better behaved, but you hadn’t realized they were so frustrated that they were willing to send you away. Not until it was too late. 

It was your friends, back in Norway, that were the issue. They were why you snuck out and drank and cut school and generally broke all the rules that had been set for you. And this was why, when you arrived in Spain, it all… stopped. Mostly because you barely spoke Spanish and had no friends. Also because Ingrid had adopted a rather tough love attitude with you. She was strict and cold and you knew that she wouldn’t tolerate any missteps. And honestly, you didn’t know where you’d go if Ingrid decided she didn’t want you around anymore. Not that you were sure she really did in the first place; you were pretty convinced that she was doing this as a favor to your parents. She didn’t want you here, and you weren’t going to push her to do something about that. 

Unbeknownst to you, Ingrid did want you there. It had been her idea for you to come to Spain in the first place. Your parents were at a loss with what to do with you, and Ingrid was tired of hearing how frustrated they were with you when she knew you were just trying to get their attention. She decided she could probably do a better job, simply by just paying attention. And so she did. She moved you in, she got on your ass about your responsibilities and your future, and you hadn’t yet put a toe out of line. Your sister was determined that you assimilate, thinking it would make it easier for you, so she only allowed you to speak Spanish in the home. She had Mapi read over your essays, and help with your grammar. She drove you to school everyday, and made you all eat dinner together as a family every night. It seemed to be working. You were quiet, but behaved. Ingrid was pretty convinced she’d done a good job, and solved the issue. You were a teen, and she figured you didn’t need her trying to hangout with you all the time. 

So, while Ingrid paid attention to your school, she didn’t pay much attention to you. She didn’t know you didn’t have any friends at your school, or that a lot of the kids were pretty cruel to you. She didn’t know school had turned into an entire nightmare, and that you had to push through an insane amount of anxiety just to walk through the front doors every morning. She didn’t know that you were behaving because you were scared of her kicking you out. She didn’t know you were desperately sad and homesick, not even allowed to speak your language in your own home with her. She didn’t know that all you wanted some days was for her to just pull you into a hug, and tell you she was proud of you. That she loved you. 

Why would she? Your parents clearly didn’t. Ingrid had no reason to either. 

Mapi had some reservations about the way Ingrid was with you. It was a complete 180 from the Norwegian’s normal demeanor. Ingrid was smiley and warm and silly with the younger girls on the team, and stern and harsh with you. Mapi noticed the way you watched your sister with her teammates, face full of jealousy. As time went on, though, and you didn’t cause trouble, Ingrid became more and more sure that her approach was the right one. Mapi still wasn’t as convinced. She wasn’t quite sure it was her place to say anything, though, so she kept a watchful eye on everything, and made sure to make you feel like their home was yours too.

You didn’t quite know what to make of Mapi, honestly. She was clearly infatuated with your sister. And she was always so kind to you. Mapi made you coffee every morning, made sure to buy all your favorite foods at the store, and she reminded you, repeatedly, that if you ever wanted to talk, about anything, she was around.  But Mapi was Ingrid’s. Not yours. If Ingrid was so reluctant to show you any affection, you shouldn’t seek it out from her girlfriend. 

You were quietly miserable. Ingrid thought you were okay, finally mellowing out. Mapi was caught somewhere in the middle, seeing both the side of yourself you hid from your sister, and the neutral façade you put on in front of her. 

For you, things couldn’t get much worse. Or at least, you didn’t think so. 

------

It had been a while since you’d gotten in a fight. You’d forgotten how good it felt to punch someone in the face who very much had it coming. 

It was your birthday. You would have forgotten, too, if a few of your old friends hadn’t texted you. Ingrid had forgotten. You’d woken up to her knocking on your door like she always did. She was focused on the important training session ahead, and barely spoke to you on the way to school. She’d forgotten your birthday, and you thought that it hadn’t bothered you. Until the idiotic group of boys was following you down the hallway, saying awful things. Until you’d snapped back at them in a way you never did, and until they began throwing punches. And you didn’t run. You turned and you fought and you let your anger and your hurt out for the first time in months. For the first time since you left Norway.

 There was an odd sense of calm that washed over you, waiting in the dean’s office for your sister to arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, in that moment, what she would think. Your hands hurt, your face hurt, and you’d finally stood up for yourself to the awful boys that wouldn’t leave you alone. 

When Ingrid walked into the office, though, an absolutely livid expression on her face, you realized you did care. Very much. You had been waiting on the dean, and although he was a scary man, you would have rather faced him at that moment. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Ingrid hissed, grabbing your face in her hands and inspecting your wounds. 

“Ing,” 

“Do not. I cannot believe you. I don’t want to hear your excuses or your explanations. You are going to apologize to the dean, take your punishment, and we are going to go home. I’ll deal with you there. Understand?” 

You lowered your head, nodding. She took the seat on your other side, still visibly angry, though she softened for just a second as she looked closely at your hand. 

“Is anything broken?” She asked quietly. Your eyes flooded with tears at the question, everything inside of you screaming to lean into her arms. She was angry, you thought. She was angry, and she wouldn’t want to hug you right now. 

“I don’t think so.” You mumbled instead. 

“Good. María will patch you up when we get home.” Her tone was cold again, and you began to zone out. The dean walked in, spewing a long lecture. He didn’t tell Ingrid that you hadn’t swung first, or that the boys had been bothering you for weeks. He didn’t tell Ingrid what they called you, or that it was three 18 year old boys against an 18 year old girl. He just said that the school didn’t tolerate fighting, and that you would be suspended for a week. 

The worst part was that Ingrid didn’t even ask what happened. Not in the office, not in the car, not when you both got home. You used to get into fights all the time, back in Norway. She thought this was more of the same from you. Your sister stormed off to call your mom the minute you were in the house, leaving you standing in the entry hall in front of Mapi, eyes fixed on the ground. 

Mapi’s hand was gentle when it rested on your back, gently guiding you up the stairs and into the couple’s bathroom. She sat you on the counter like you were a little kid, and pulled out the first aid kit. Only then did you raise your head and look at her. You thought she would be mad, but she only looked concerned. 

“She hates me.” You said it before you could stop yourself, and your voice shook over every syllable. Mapi’s face melted, and she shook her head insistently, carefully wiping a tear off your face. 

“No, nena. She’s upset, but she loves you very much.” Mapi seemed convinced. She loved your sister, after all. And though you didn’t know it, Mapi had been a witness to your sister worrying over you for 2 years now. 

There was no use arguing, so you stopped talking again, and Mapi got back to cleaning your face up. She asked you a couple questions in English about things that hurt and didn’t hurt, and you responded in English. Mapi had moved on to cleaning the cuts on your knuckles when Ingrid appeared. 

“Can you bend your fingers?” Mapi asked. 

“Yeah, it’s a little sore, but I can bend them.” You replied. 

“Español.” Ingrid scolded. You nodded, correcting yourself quickly, now trying to stifle the flow of tears flowing from your eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” Ingrid asked, stepping in closer to study you closely. 

“Okay. Hurts a bit but I’m fine.” You said softly. 

“Do you promise it just hurts a bit?” Ingrid asked. 

“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Your body didn’t hurt that bad. You hurt though. Every inch of you ached with a deep sadness, a deep loneliness. But that wasn’t what Ingrid had asked. 

“We have a dinner tonight, a team dinner. Will you be okay here if we go?” 

A little bit of you shattered, then. Maybe you’d been hoping that Ingrid had remembered your birthday, had been planning a fun dinner or something. Clearly not. 

“Yeah. I’ll get a head start on my homework.” You managed, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from crying. Ingrid nodded, satisfied, but Mapi didn’t look away from you. 

“Are you sure? You look a bit upset, nena. We can stay if you need us.” 

You shook your head harshly. “No, I’m fine. Promise.” 

You were very far from fine. You needed to be alone, though, if you were going to feel every complicated emotion raging through you. 

------

“Ingrid,” Mapi said suddenly, about halfway into their drive to the restaurant. Ingrid hummed in response, looking over at her girlfriend from the passenger seat. “Your sister said something today. And it seemed like she really, really believed it. I think you need to be a little easier on her, amor. She’s just a kid.” 

“What did she say?” Ingrid wondered, head stuck on that comment. 

Mapi hesitated, well aware of how hard this might hit Ingrid. “She said you hated her. She was pretty convinced, Ingrid. How mad were you at the school?” 

Ingrid sighed roughly, running an exhausted hand over her face. “Fuck. She’s always been dramatic, I forget that she’s just… sensitive sometimes. I was pretty harsh.” She admitted. 

“Amor, I know you think this strict approach is working, but I don’t know. She seems so sad sometimes. She’s just a kid, and she’s doing her best. I think she needs you to be a bit… softer with her.” Mapi suggested, finally voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing her for weeks, if not months. 

Ingrid was quiet for a while. “Maybe. I don’t know, I thought it was working, but then today happened. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Why don’t you just… talk to her? What was the fight even about?” Mapi asked. 

Ingrid didn’t respond, her frustration with herself quickly replacing her frustration with you. 

“You didn’t ask?” Mapi sighed. 

“No, but the dean didn’t say either.” Ingrid defended halfheartedly. 

“That probably isn’t a good thing mi amor. We’ll talk to her when we get home. Figure out what’s going on.” Mapi declared. 

“We?” Ingrid asked quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips. 

“We.” Mapi affirmed, looking cautiously at her girlfriend. “Is that okay?” 

“More than okay.” Ingrid assured her. “I think she might need both of us.” 

It was clearer, now, to Ingrid. Suddenly, and very painfully. That she’d gone about this wrong. The extent of the damage that had been done was not yet to be realized, though. 

--------

The silence that echoed through the house was what got you. Today, on your 18th birthday, you sat alone at the kitchen table, tears falling freely from your eyes. They stung the cuts in on your face, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. It felt like wherever you went, you messed up. Wherever you went, you weren’t wanted. When you’d come to Norway, you’d had hope that maybe things would be different. Maybe Ingrid would treat you differently than your parents. She had, but you still didn’t feel loved. It felt like there was something fundamentally wrong with you that drove everyone away. You just wanted to make it better, and yet, at the same time, you felt so incredibly hopeless. Like there was nothing in the world you could do to make your family love you. You supposed it was your fault; you’d been acting out for years. Everyone was bound to get tired of you. You didn’t want to be like that, you just didn’t know what else to do. The age gap to your siblings was huge, your parents were tired of being parents, and no one had any time for you. Or the desire to make time. You’d done the only thing you could think of at the time to get their attention, and it had only made things worse. You had only made things worse. 

And still, a part of you was angry. Furious. Did you have to be perfect? Did you have to make no mistakes? Shouldn’t they love you regardless of all that? There was no consistency in your brain; sometimes it all felt like your fault, and other times it felt like there wasn’t anything you could do right. 

You felt the inexplicable urge to apologize. Really apologize, really explain.  Maybe they could forgive you. Maybe Ingrid could forgive you, maybe you could get her to understand. You didn’t think you could make it through an entire apology, though, not verbally, not face to face with your intense sister. So you got out a piece of paper, and began writing. 

Ingrid,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got stuck with me, and I’m sorry I haven’t been good enough. I’ve tried, I promise I have. Sometimes I feel like it isn’t possible for me to meet your standards, but I still try. 

I’m sorry about the fight today. They came at me, I swear. These three boys have been bothering me since I've arrived, and they say horrible things to me, and I just snapped. I should have just kept quiet, and they never would have started the fight, and I’m sorry I didn’t do that. 

I’m sorry I’m always home and bothering you and Mapi. I’m sorry I haven’t made any friends here, and I’m sorry my spanish isn’t perfect. I’m sorry I'm so miserable. I don’t know why I can’t just be happy, but I can’t. I want to be. I really do. It just feels like you’re always mad at me. I feel like such an awful person no matter what I do. Mom and Dad didn’t want me. And I don’t think you want me. I don’t think I want me either, sometimes. 

I’m trying to like it here, but it’s so different. I miss Mom and Dad, even though I know they don’t miss me. I miss my home and I miss Norway. I miss my friends. I didn’t really feel like I belonged there, but at least it was familiar. 

I think I’m mad at you, too. You’re my sister, Ingrid. Do you always have to be so harsh with me? I think I’d be happier, if you seemed happier that I was here. 

You forgot my birthday. Mom and Dad didn’t remember either.  I turned 18 today. I turned 18 today, and you and Mapi went to dinner without me. I made a sandwich and ate it by myself in the kitchen. I’ve never felt so worthless. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. I just want you all to love me again. I want to love myself again. I think I’d do anything, to feel like I have a family again. 

I’m so desperate I’m writing you this absurd letter that I’ll probably never give you. I don’t know if I can give it to you. I’m scared to give it to you, and I’m scared not to. 

I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me. I’m scared because it feels like no one would even notice if I was gone. It feels so easy. Everyday it feels like it would be easier. 

I guess I’m asking for help, Ingrid. I don’t want to ask you to fix this for me, but I don’t think I can do it myself.  I want to be better, I want to

Your writing cut off abruptly, as the front door opened. All you felt was panic. You were a mess, sobbing uncontrollably on the couch with the letter almost completed in front of you. They weren’t supposed to be home yet. The event was supposed to be a long one, and you’d planned on leaving the letter, if you were brave enough, on the kitchen table, and going to bed. Handing it to your sister face to face had never been the plan. You weren’t even sure it made any sense, and you weren’t sure you wanted to give it to her. 

The front door swung open anyway, and Mapi walked into the house. You remembered, then, that she was always coming home early. She had a follow up appointment for her knee the following morning, and she hadn’t wanted to be out late. Alexia had driven her home early, not wanting a late night herself. Ingrid was still at the dinner, but Mapi was here. Standing frozen in the entryway, with a perfect view of the disaster you were on the couch. You were frozen, and she was frozen, but then she was moving, moving closer to you, and you couldn’t you couldn’t you couldn’t. 

“Pequeña, what is it? What hurts?” Mapi asked urgently, moving to sit next to you on the couch. She thought you must be hurt, physically. The thought that the agony on your face could be from anything else didn't even enter her brain. 

She sat next to you, and you were still frozen, not even able to move the piece of paper out of sight. 

Mapi saw it. You were using one of your textbooks as a surface, not unlike how you did your homework. Your favorite pen was in your hand. And resting in your lap, on the textbook, was a piece of paper that somehow radiated pain. Mapi was reaching for it before she even knew what she was doing, and you were still frozen. Frozen, staring at Mapi like you were afraid of her. Very suddenly, Mapi was terrified. 

“Nena, what is this?” She asked softly. It was to Ingrid. Written in Spanish. Mapi saw her name in it a few places as she scanned it over, before she looked back up at you. “Nena?” she prompted again. 

This time, you did move. You jolted forward, reaching for the letter, a deep gasping breath escaping your mouth. Mapi held it out of your grasp, her eyes stuck on one sentence, the only sentence that she’d read so far. It had jumped out at her. 

“I’m scared because sometimes I think everyone would be better off without me.” 

An instantly, Mapi knew she couldn’t let you take the piece of paper back. She knew she needed to call Ingrid and tell her to come home. She knew she couldn’t let you out of her sight. You were so fragile, though, sitting in front of her like you were second away from shattering into a million pieces. Too many pieces for anyone to ever be able to fix. 

“Nena, I think I need to read this.” She whispered, watching carefully as you pulled your hand back towards your body, as you curled in on yourself, and began to shake with silent sobs. 

And then Mapi read the letter. With one hand on your back, and one hand tightly clutching the paper, she read the most painful thing she’d ever laid her eyes on. It tore her apart, reading how you felt. 

And it wasn’t meant for her. It was meant for Ingrid. And, ridiculously, Mapi wished she could fix it before Ingrid ever read what you’d written. Mapi would have done anything in that moment, to make things right with you, and to make sure Ingrid never had to know how badly she had hurt you. Because realizing it would hurt the Norwegian just as much. 

Mapi ached to tell you so many things. That Ingrid loved you so much, she just wasn’t sure how to help you. That she thought what she was doing was working, helping. That she was sure Ingrid didn’t know the date, or she’d have never forgotten your birthday. That she knew Ingrid would do anything, anything in the world, to fix this. That Mapi was sure both she and Ingrid would go back in time if they could, and fix everything that had gone wrong. 

She couldn’t force that all on you now. She couldn’t defend Ingrid, or herself. 

Instead, she placed the letter carefully on the table, and sent Ingrid a very brief text. 

“You need to come home now. Everything is fine, everyone is safe, but you need to come home.”

Instead, Mapi pulled you into her lap, and held you so tight it almost hurt. 

Instead, your sister’s girlfriend, who owed you absolutely nothing, told you, over and over, how very loved you were. How proud she was of you. How her and Ingrid were going to fix everything if it killed them. 

They’d fix everything before it killed you. 

------

🙂

#woso x reader #woso imagine #engen!reader #ingrid engen x mapí leon #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #platonic reader

[steddieas-shegoes]

shit talkin' up all night

for @steddiesongfics song 'for the first time' by the script

rated m | 1,469 words | cw: alcohol, arguing | tags: angst with a happy ending, established relationship, robin buckley deserves an award for saving their relationship everyone say thank you robin, they're in love, eddie is just dumb for a bit

◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️

The arguing started when Steve suggested they move back in with Wayne.

They were struggling; Eddie wasn't an idiot, he could see the told his unemployment was taking on their financial situation. They were able to cover rent from Steve's paycheck, but they had to cut back on literally everything else. No more date nights, no more trips to visit Dustin, no more buying the good bacon for breakfast.

It wasn't for lack of trying, it's just that Eddie only had a GED and no marketable skills outside of playing music. Any job he could get would make miserable.

"I just think if we take some time to save up, maybe you'll be able to find something you like and then it'll be better," Steve shrugged.

"I'm not moving back in with Wayne. He did enough for me already."

"Then I'll get another job."

"No, you're not working two jobs. I'll just...go work at the McDonald's."

"Eds, you would hate it there."

"Well, it's a paycheck."

Steve sighed and walked away.

And then it got worse.

Eddie did find a job. He worked part time at the music lesson school. It didn't pay nearly enough, but it was something.

Until one of the parents found out he was working there and threw a fit and he got fired. The owner apologized, but said if it came down to his business and Eddie, he had to let Eddie go.

Back to square one.

Steve was too understanding. It was frustrating.

Eddie started arguments just to make him mad.

Whatever would push him: leaving all the dirty dishes in the sink, staying out late without letting him know, buying the good bacon for breakfast when it wasn't in the budget.

It did start to work eventually.

"Why are you doing this?" Steve asked eventually, after two nights of Eddie coming home late for no other reason than to make Steve upset. He hadn't even done anything, just walked around downtown for a couple hours and thought about how much of a failure he'd been.

"I'm not doing anything," he'd say back.

Steve would push.

Eddie would push back.

Little things turned into big things.

And then Eddie came home drunk.

He hadn't even been to a bar, he hadn't been with anyone else. He'd gotten one six pack of beer and realized halfway through it that he hadn't eaten all day and kept drinking anyway.

The buzz was great until he was stumbling through the front door, waking Steve up from his half-slumber on the couch of the apartment.

Steve didn't even argue. He just shook his head and went to their bedroom, closing the door and making it clear he didn't want to be around Eddie.

The next morning, Steve was already gone when Eddie managed to roll off the couch.

"Steve's not gonna say it, so I will," Robin's voice made him trip over his boots on the floor. She was sitting in the armchair, glaring at him. "You're pushing him away because you don't think you deserve someone who is patient and loving. He used to try that shit with me, with the kids, with Hopper. Started shit just to see if we'd leave. Pretended he was the only one who could deal with his problems."

Eddie blinked back at her, vision blurry from sleep and unshed tears. He wasn't gonna cry in front of Robin.

"I could understand why he did it. He had shitty parents and shitty friends before all of us. Took him some time to get used to being cared for." Robin leaned forward. "But you've had Wayne for a long time. Us. Steve. So what is it that's causing this? Why are you hurting Steve? Why are you hurting yourself?"

Eddie had been to therapy for a month or so after everything. The government insisted on it. He'd even done what they asked of him. Talked about everything that happened, talked about his childhood, talked about being gay in a town that thought being gay was bad enough to send you to hell, but somehow still the least of Eddie's crimes.

The therapist told him it seemed like he was always preparing himself to get hurt, even with the people that he did trust. That was the last time he went to the therapist.

"Because this is all I'll ever be, Robin! Steve should get out while he can, find someone who isn't fuckin' useless. Someone who can get a real job or go to school or something."

"Is this because you can't be on your feet for more than a couple hours?"

Eddie was silent.

"Do you think that means you can't do things? Do you think Steve wants to watch you suffer more than you already have?"

Eddie shook his head once.

"Then here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna shower and clean up the house a little. You're gonna cook that chicken dish Steve loves so much because I went to the deli to get fresh ingredients for you. You're gonna open that bottle of wine I did not steal from Chrissy's restaurant. You're gonna talk to him."

"Okay."

"And then tomorrow, you're gonna come interview for a job at the museum. They're opening a new exhibit called Rock Through The Ages and they're looking for someone to do tours. It's four hours a day, five days a week. Pay is more than you made anywhere else plus tips. Interview is a formality, they already know you're qualified."

"Robin, I-"

"And you're gonna shut up. I love you, too, Eddie. And I love that dingus who loves you. So get your shit together so you can both be as happy as I know you can be."

Eddie hugged her for a long time, probably much longer than Robin would have ever allowed him to if it weren't for the circumstances.

He cleaned himself up, he cleaned up the apartment, he cooked dinner, and he opened the bottle of wine.

Neither of them were big fans of wine, but this was a $100 bottle. Eddie would drink every last drop.

When Steve came through the door at 4:39 on the dot, just like he did every week day, Eddie was holding a glass of wine out to him with a small smile.

"Eds? What's this?"

"Been a while since we've had a date night. Thought maybe we deserved it."

Steve stared back at him blankly, then let out a sob and walked over to him, burying his face in his neck.

"Sh, it's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here," Eddie wrapped him up in his arms, kissing his head. "I'm here."

"You promise?" Steve's broken voice nearly tore Eddie in two. How had he let it get this bad?

"I promise, Stevie. I'm sorry I've been somewhere else in my head."

Steve pulled away, sniffling and looking around the room as he realized that dinner was already set out on the bar and the dishes were done.

"You did all this for me?"

"For us."

"Is that chicken cacciatore?" Steve walked to the plate in his usual spot and smiled. "You made this?"

"I did. Hopefully it's edible. If not, I already have the menu for the Italian place down the road by the phone," Eddie pulled Steve's chair out for him and then sat down next to him.

They talked through dinner, mostly about Steve's day, and then about Eddie's. He brought up the interview and Steve beamed like the sun.

"That sounds perfect for you, Eds."

"I know. I think it'll be great."

The bottle of wine went down easy. Maybe a little too easy.

By the time they realized it was gone, they were giggling and leaning on each other, cheeks red and eyes glazed over with a buzz that was more than just the high alcohol content.

Steve leaned in to kiss him.

Eddie leaned in to kiss him back.

And for the first time in a long time, they stayed up all night, talking, kissing, touching in ways they'd nearly forgotten how to do.

When Eddie got the job, he sent Robin flowers. Nothing fancy, the pay wasn't that good. But he had to thank her for getting his head out of his ass and his ass in shape.

Steve didn't ask when he saw the bill for it, just smiled and kissed the top of Eddie's head while he got ready for his first day of work.

"I love you. Good luck today," Steve said as he fixed his glasses before grabbing his keys to head to his job at the youth center downtown.

"Love you too. Pizza tonight?"

"Sounds good, love. Wine?"

Eddie nodded towards the bottle of $3 wine from the liquor store.

Steve laughed. "I'll grab some Tylenol on my way home."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiesongfics #angst with a happy ending #established relationship

[luvhughes43]

the beginning | jack hughes

au masterlist⭐️

summary: jack and yns relationship is super lowkey, but what happens when yn starts doubting why their relationship is so private?

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 5.6k

The first time you met Jack Hughes you were job shadowing a colleague of yours. It was your first real week of working at the New York Times, and with how busy the team's schedule was you were sent down with Lewis from the sports column to report on… something hockey related. You weren’t really sure, and Lewis didn’t care to fill you in. 

You had never given hockey two thoughts when you were growing up. Your father wasn’t interested in any sports aside from the usual football game on thanksgiving (which you had a theory he just watched to get out of festive activities and house work). And anyway, there was only one local ice rink where you grew up so you’d never really had the opportunity to learn about the sport. 

All that to say, you had no idea what you were doing. You watched Lewis pin his “The Athletic” reporters badge, and you fiddled with your visitors pass as you waited for the press conference to start. 

When the conference did start, you jotted down notes absentmindedly on your notepad. About halfway through the meeting, your attention is immediately pulled to a side door where a few men stood, snickering and whispering to each other. 

One of the men noticed you though, smirking half-heartedly in your direction as he nodded his head towards you. That small action caused the rest of the boys to look over in your direction. Your face flushed, and before you could look away your eyes connected with those of maybe the cutest guy you’ve ever seen. His hair was brown and overgrown, and his whole face lit up when he laughed. 

“Ow!” you whispered, rubbing your arm to try and alleviate the pain that was Lewis elbow knocking into your side. He pointed to the man speaking at the front of the room, and immediately looked away from you with an annoyed expression etched onto his face. “i’m sorry,” you whispered to Lewis but he shook his head in response. “pay attention.” his harsh tone brought you back to reality, and with one more glance at the cute man in the corner, you return all your attention back to the conference. 

⋆ ★

“Journalists still use notepads?” a teasing voice asks, and when you lift your head up from your notebook you see the same man from earlier staring at you. 

“We use recorders too but I'm just job shadowing so I didn’t think I needed it. Lewis the-” you stop your sentence short, well aware of the fact that this guy probably didn’t care about your writing tools or your coworker. 

The guy surprises you though. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and nods at you to continue. 

“Lewis, he works for the athletic paper. anyway, i was assigned to shadow him today because the woman who i was going to shadow had this breaking news story she had to cover,” 

“why didn’t you go with her?” the man asks, genuinely curious. 

“Well it's my first week and the woman is really particular about how she works. She said if I followed her she’d only get distracted,” you finish your story with the shrug of your shoulder. 

the guy nods in understanding before he pushes himself off and away from the wall. He squints a little and points to your name tag.

“Oh, i’m Y/n” you say, adjusting your name tag so he could read it properly. 

“I'm Jack” he smiles at you, and before either of you has time to say anything else, Lewis walks over to you grumbling. 

“It’s time to go,” 

you smile politely at Jack and he reciprocates. 

“See you around, Y/n” he raises his hand in a boyish fashion before retreating out of the hallway. 

⋆ ★

“It's so cold!” you shivered, voice quivering as you try to warm yourself up with the palm of your hands. you decided not to wear a coat tonight, against your better judgements, and now the frigid Manhattan air came to bite you in the ass. 

your friend nodded, teeth chattering as you two ran across the street and down the next block. 

your friends apartment came up first, and so she rushes out a quick goodbye before you set off down the street again. 

“Fuck! Where am I?” you hear a mans voice ask off in the distance. You wouldn’t normally try and investigate, but when you looked up and saw the familiar mop of brown hair, you made the decision to go over and talk to him.

“Jack?” you asked, hands still rubbing up and down your arms to try and provide you some warmth. 

Jack looks up startled, and once he recognizes it's you he relaxes again.

“Y/n right? From work?” he asks, and you nod as you step closer to him. The street lamps illuminate his face perfectly, hues of yellow and orange highlighting his features well.

“Yeah,” you nodded, face twisting in confusion as you watch Jack shrug out of his jacket. 

“I’ll let you wear my coat if you help me get.. here” Jack points to the blue destination point on his phone. 

You weigh your options, you could take his coat and help him out.. Meaning that you got to spend more time with him.. or, you could go home to the warmth of your apartment..

You hold your hand out for his jacket, and Jack smiles as he passes it over to you. 

You peer at his phone, taking a mental note of where he’s trying to go before leading him in the right direction. 

“Have you ever used google maps before?” you laugh teasingly, watching as the direction changes and the walk time gets shorter. “you were going in the complete opposite direction”

Jack chuckles, “my bad” 

The walk is silent for a minute, before Jack starts questioning you. “So… Do you usually take walks with strangers?”

“You're not a stranger, I met you like two days ago” you joke, knowing full well it's probably not wise to walk the streets with a man you've only ever spoken a few sentences to. 

Jack nods, and when you glance in his direction you see the hint of a smile grace his lips. “So, have you lived here long?” Jack asked at a stoplight. 

“I’ve lived in Manhattan for a year now. I did an internship last year for journalism and then they hired me” you explain as the walking light turns on and you both cross the street. “What about you? How long have you been in jersey?”

“I live in Jersey for the hockey season. I've been in Jersey for 4 years now? I think?” Jack speaks, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his NJD hoodie. “I grew up in Canada though, and I live in Michigan during the summers'' he explains.

“I’m from Denver, but I don't go visit much. I went to college here on the east coast and ended up staying through the summers to work” you speak, surprised at how easy it is to talk to Jack.

“I didn’t go to school,” Jack blurts out, and you bring your arm up to try and disguise your giggles as a cough. Jack seems embarrassed by his small outburst and quickly clarifies, “like I was drafted and went straight to the nhl” 

“That must’ve been hard” you hum, and Jack quirks an eyebrow at you. “Like, having to be in the real world so soon”

“you moved on your own at 18”

“Yeah but I moved for school. You were straight into the pros. That must've been a lot of pressure” 

Jack doesn’t respond, but you can tell by the way he’s carrying himself that your words rang true. 

“Anyway,” you pick up the conversation. “I really like living here. Yeah my hours are kind of insane, and rent is beyond… but I really like the city” 

“I think i’d live here,” Jack replies as he surveys the mostly empty streets. “there's always so much to do”

You nod, getting ready to cross the next street. “Uh, where are you going?” you call out, as Jack starts walking down the wrong street.

“There's a pizza place!” he says simply, and you stare at him confusedly before he explains. “I’m going to a bar, I can't drink without eating something” Jack shrugs and you walk to where he paused. He points to the small 24 hour pizza shop he wants to go to, and you both walk inside. 

After you both order, and you're sitting at your table with your food, you start to question things. “So, why were you wandering the streets? How did you get here from Jersey?” you ask, blowing on your steaming pizza before you take a bite. 

Jack mirrors you, taking a bite before he answers. “My friends and I all came together. They went out for dinner first but there was this shop I wanted to check out, they’ve got sick shoes, anyway that's not the point. they dropped me off at the store and so my plan was to just walk and meet up with them after but I… well got lost” 

You and Jack continue talking, time completely slipping by both of your minds as you let the conversation flow. You learnt that Jack did in fact like to read, and you made sure to give him a few recommendations before you both parted ways. 

“Do you want your jacket back?” you ask, already starting to shrug out of the warm material. 

He holds up a hand to stop you, “No you should wear it its cold-”

“I'm just walking back to my apartment I should be fine,” you say, shimmying your shoulder and letting the sleeve fall from your arm.

“Do you want me to walk with you?” Jack's question stuns you. 

“Aren’t you supposed to meet up with your friends?”

Jack only shrugs, “it’s only like 12 i’ve got plenty of time to catch up with them”

You nod slowly as you readjust Jack's coat on your body. 

“Plus, wouldn’t want you to take up any other stranger if they ask for directions” Jack jokes, “might make me jealous” 

You knew his comment was supposed to be a joke but… butterflies. Literal butterflies. 

Fifteen minutes later and you were outside of your apartment building. 

“Thank you” you say, “for the pizza and for letting me wear your jacket” 

Jack smiles at you brightly, and you couldn't help but smile back at him. It was like a natural reaction. 

“Thank you for taking me to where I needed to go,” Jack takes his turn in thanking you.

“But I didn't..” 

“It's the thought that counts” Jack grins as he pulls out his phone. “But, since you didn’t walk me to where i was going… i’ll accept your number as an apology”

“Apology?” you laughed, placing a hand over your heart and pretending to be shocked by his words. “If I recall you were the one who wanted to stop for pizza and to walk me home” 

“You're right, you're right,” Jack says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. 

“But I will give you my number,” you say, holding your hand out to accept Jack's phone. When you pass his phone back, your contact fresh in his list, Jack beams. 

“I’ll call you!” Jack yells out as he starts walking down the street. 

“How about you text me when you make it to the bar!” you shout back. “And by the way! You're going in the wrong direction!” you shout again, and Jack sighs loudly. He dramatically turns around before walking your way again. 

Before he has the time to say anything more, you give him a few directions so he doesn’t get anymore lost. 

Less than 30 minutes later, while finishing up your skincare routine, your phone lights up with a notification. 

Jack H: I made it! Thanks for tonight and for the directions

You went to sleep that night with a smile plastered onto your face.

⋆ ★

After that first “date” you and Jack routinely made plans to hang out. It started off with Jack texting you whenever he happened to be in the city, which then translated to you inviting him to all the new places in town you wanted to try. 

“I don't know how I feel about that,” Jack speaks in between spoonfuls of his ice cream. You two had just gotten out of an exhibit, something about ancient rome. 

“What? You never think about the roman empire?” you retort, thinking about Jack's interview that was posted earlier in the year. Jack rolled his eyes at you, but he smiled nonetheless. 

“Like, how do they even have all that stuff? It's been so long” 

“Yeah.. the armour was cool though,” you respond, shuffling across the crosswalk with Jack trailing after you. 

There’s a brief pause as you walk up White Street towards the little italian restaurant Jack wanted to stop at. 

“So, I was looking online and there’s this new exhibition popping up soon. Something about the elements and sensors… I don't know, it looked cool” Jack breaks the silence, and you have to bite back your smile. He was looking up exhibits for the two of you to go to? Last week he was talking about how much he didn't understand modern art!

“Since when are you interested in the arts?” you tease, knocking your shoulder against Jacks playfully. He looks down at you, eyes crinkled as he smiles. 

“It’s something to do,” Jack shrugs, “plus, let's not lie here! You’d love to hang out with me more,” Jack laughs teasingly, but you can sense the hope that lies beneath his words. 

“I’d love to hang out with you” your hand brushed against Jack without your knowledge. Your hand feels like it's on fire from the small contact. 

“It's a date then!” Jack cheers, grabbing ahold of your hand to steer you in the right direction. You could only hope he meant a real date. 

⋆ ★

The exhibit was great, but your time with Jack was even better. He always found ways to make even the most mundane things light up with colour. By the end of the night, you were positive that if you didn't ask Jack out on an official date, you’d lose your mind. 

Jack, ever the gentlemen, walked you up all 6 floors of your apartment. “I had a lot of fun tonight,” you say as soon as you reach your front door. 

Jack nods, easily agreeing with you. “I think i’m a changed man, that art thing was so cool” 

You laughed lightly, leaning against your door as you watched Jack ruffle his hair with his hand. “My turn to pick the activity next time?” you ask. 

“Yeah but no more ancient rome things” Jack easily jokes. 

“How about something more…” you hedge, unsure of how to ask Jack out. Of course you’ve asked him to go out places before but… this was very different. 

Jack leans against the staircase railing, tilting his head signalling for you to continue.

“Like…” you contine, all words escaping you as your attention is suddenly caught to the sight of his bare arms.

“A date?” Jack prompts, smirking as he catches you staring at him. 

Upon hearing the word date you're immediately crashing back to reality. Your hearts beating wildly, something you hadn’t felt since the early days of university. 

You nod, “yeah, yeah.. Like a date” you shake your head to clear it, and when you meet Jack's eyes he beams. 

“I’ll be waiting for you to text me the location then…” Jack's voice trails as he walks closer to you, leaning in as he presses a quick kiss to your check.

You stand there momentarily stunned, watching as he slowly walks backwards to the top of your floor's staircase. “I’ll see you on our date?” Jack calls out, and you mirror his bright smile. 

“I’ll see you on our date!” you call back, watching as Jack starts walking down the stairs. 

you were falling hard. 

⋆ ★

The big date came and went, and you and Jack continued dating silently. It was nice just being with him, away from all the pressures of his fans and his large social media presence. You had a small private account, so you would post some pictures on there, but you never officially went “public” with your relationship. 

Ynuser

Liked by jackhughes, claudia, and others

Ynuser life recently...

Tagged: jackhughes

That didnt mean there weren’t close calls though. With Jack being extremely popular, there were a few times when the two of you were photographed out by fans. 

After the first incident, you thought nothing of it. Of course someone would see you guys eventually. Although you weren’t sure how you felt about being photographed by random people out in public… Jack was always quick to reassure you that people would eventually forget about the photos. 

It wasn’t the forgetting you were worried about though. After being with Jack for a few months, your twitter feed started recommending you hockey content. Which was fine at first, until you saw all the speculations of yours and Jack's relationship.

You muted all the hockey terms you could think of on your twitter account… but that didn’t stop you from thinking of all those accounts words. Was it true that you weren’t Jack's type? Is that why he wasn’t posting you on his social media accounts? Did he actually prefer going to small coffee shops and art exhibitions? Or was he trying to hide you from the outside world? 

Even though you knew you liked your relationship being private… Was there an ulterior motive on Jack's end? Did he not find you pretty enough to post on main? You started to spiral. 

⋆ ★

The bar was much more crowded than you would've liked, but when your boyfriend invited you out you easily agreed. 

You sat in the corner of the booth all night, sipping on your vodka sodas and listening in on the conversation around you. The devils were doing good so far this season, and as a result, Jack had decided it was time to drag you out with him to the bar. You wished he hadn’t.

It’s not like you were an insecure person… (that was somewhat a lie), but when every girl was gorgeous and hitting on your boyfriend… it made you doubt things.

You watched all night as Jack looked at other girls, and your spiralling started to feel a lot more real. 

“Who is she?” you screamed, tears streaming down your face as your boyfriend of two years stared at you in shock.

“Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! I swear! It's you who-”

“When was the last time you slept together?” you shouted, your boyfriend winced at your biting words. 

“Last weekend…” your boyfriend finally admitted the truth. You had your suspicions that he was cheating on you for weeks now… and each time you brought it up he convinced you that you were crazy. “But baby!” his voice was frantic as you grabbed your bag and started shoving things into it. 

Your eyes were wild as you stared into the eyes of the boy that you had loved. When he had nothing else to say, you zipped up your bag and left. Your chest arched and your heart burned… you promised that you would never let yourself get cheated on again. 

A blonde touches Jack's arm. You know this because you're watching it happen, right in front of your eyes. You swig your now warm soda, blinking hard to will away the tears. 

You look away from the sight, causing you to miss the way Jack's eyes immediately try to seek yours after he brushes the girl away. 

The drive to your apartment was quiet. 

“Baby, what's wrong?” Jack asks, and despite how much you want to call him out, you feel juvenile about it. 

“Nothing,” you sigh, shifting in your seat so that you can look at Jack. He looks at you tenderly, as if whatever mysterious thing that's hurting you is hurting him too. 

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” Jack speaks up again a minute later, this time his eyes are trained on the road. 

“I know,” you whisper. “I’m just tired. Work was busy today”

Jack hummed in response, and that was the end of the conversation. As usual, he walked you up to your apartment, and then you kissed him goodbye. 

When he left you stayed up in bed and questioned everything. You knew you were being insecure, but were you paranoid too? You didn’t want to be hurt again and you were fearful that you would be cheated on again. It was irrational, you knew. But your ex was always being hit on and he took one of the girls up on… no. You wouldn’t let that man ruin anything else in your life. 

Everythings fine… you whisper to yourself, and soon enough you fall asleep.

⋆ ★

Things got worse from then on. Whenever Jack was gone on roadies you would read through every comment you could find about Jack’s types, his ex gfs, anything that you could find. You couldn’t help but compare yourself to them. It was like some cruel, sick addiction that you needed to keep up with. 

user82

Liked by jackhughes, and others

user82 recently… 🍸

“She's just a friend! What are you talking about?” Jack was immediately defensive when you brought up his liking habits.

“Listen, I’m not trying to be some insecure girlfriend but-”

“You are insecure!” Jack's voice is loud and his words slice through you like swords. 

Your eyes immediately start to water, “baby, I didn’t mean it” Jack rushes to your side, hand on your shoulder as he tries to get a good look at you. 

“I’m sorry…” you cry, your hands coming up to shield your face away from him. 

“No, I'm sorry. You're not insecure you’re right” Jack tries to soothe you but your mind goes numb. 

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

You let Jack drag you over to the couch, where you spend the rest of the night cuddling and watching some movie that was really just static noise. 

Your chest aches and your heart burns, but you knew that Jack was right. You were insecure. You didn't think you were as pretty as the girls who wanted him, and now you certainly didn’t think you were deserving of an instagram post. 

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

Baby, she doesn’t mean anything to me! But baby! baby, I didn’t mean it…

⋆ ★

After that night, you tried to distance yourself from Jack Hughes. When he was on roadies, you would take extra long to reply to his texts. You were also suddenly picking up more hours at work, volunteering to cover stories nobody wanted to cover. 

On the other side of things, Jack was confused. He had thought after his apologies that everything would be fine? He thought you needed space, so he gave you plenty. But now it seemed like the two of you weren’t even together anymore. 

“Dude, just talk to her” Trevor's voice was somehow still loud over the phone. 

“Yeah but she wants space” Jack sighed, as if Trevor had no idea how girls worked. 

“Okay… and did she tell you that?”

“I can tell” 

Trevor shuffled on the other end of the line. “Okay Jack, listen. You guys have been together what? A year now? You can’t just throw away your whole relationship because she may or may not be a little insecure. Why don't you talk to her? Like actually sit and figure this out” 

For the first time, Jack thought, Trevor was making some sense.

“I want to be with you! Do you want to be with me?” Jack's voice was unintentionally rough and loud as he questioned you. 

“Of course I want to be with you!” your voice is just as loud. 

“Then what's the big deal!” Jack is visibly annoyed as if you're some person that's wasting his time.   

“Well, don’t like other girls' instagram posts and stare at models in public!” you retort, crossing your arms childishly. Jack throws his hands up in the air, sighing loudly. 

“I like you, what don't you understand?” Jack enunciates each word loudly and waves his hands around wildly in some effort to make his point clear.

“Why can't you understand that I just need some reassurance!” you cry out, completely worn out by this conversation. 

“Reassurance? I’m not going to cheat on you! Why do you think so low of me?” Jack pauses, seeming to connect the dots in his head. “Oh. this is about him” Jacks voice turns cold and you feel the oncoming sting in your throat. 

“Just because you’ve been cheated on before doesn’t mean that it's going to happen again.” your cheeks felt wet. Were you crying? 

“I don't think you’re going to cheat on me” you whisper, arms wrapping around yourself in a bad attempt at trying to calm yourself down. 

Jack stands still, staring at you with glaring eyes. 

“I just want… I want…” you can't even finish your sentence. You didn’t know what you wanted. You just felt so bad about yourself. 

Jack stares, nodding his head in exasperation as he watches you cry. “Yeah, well, when you figure that out call me” 

“Jack please,” you call to him through tears, following him down your hallway as you watch him walk away. 

You never called. 

⋆ ★

A month went by, and you felt the breakup in every aspect of your life. Work reminded you of that first day with Jack. Your apartment reminded you of all the times he would walk you home… you missed him. 

“We’re going out tonight! Enough being sad” your coworker, Claudia, exclaimed as she walked into your apartment. She was holding a saks bag, no doubt filled to the brim with outfit options for the night ahead. 

“I’m not feeling it” you mumble, eyes immediately finding focus on your tv screen. 

“It's been a month yn.. If you don't go out now, you're never going to” Claudia's voice is soft. She sets the bag of clothes beside you on the couch, and she silent starts showing you your options. 

“That ones cute” your voice is muffled but Claudia hears you anyway. 

“Perfect!” She smiles, setting your choice to the side and pulling out a plastic bag full of accessories. 

You felt ridiculous. You were wearing heels much too small, and your dress was way too tight. The drinks though… definitely hit the spot. And after a while, you didn’t think of Jack at all. 

“I’m having so  much fun!” your words were slurred as you slung one of your arms around Claudia's shoulder. She smiled happily at you, tipsily swaying your hips so you were both dancing to the beat of the music that was blasting throughout the club. 

“Is that…?” Claudia starts but then abruptly stops, almost as if she had seen a ghost. 

“Is that what!” you shout cheerfully, spinning yourself and Claudia around so that you could see what she saw. 

“Y/n don't!” Claudia tries to reposition you but it is too late. 

In the middle of the dance floor stood Jack Hughes, your Jack Hughes, and some girl that looked oddly familiar. As if sensing your gaze, the girl turned. It was the girl from instagram. 

“I’m going to be sick!” you moaned, hand covering your mouth as Claudia quickly rushes you outside of the club. Luckily, the two of you make it outside rather quickly, and then you're heaving onto the streets of New York. 

“I am so sorry! I had no idea that he’d be here!” Claudia speaks apologetically, holding your hair out of your face as you continue dry heaving. 

“He's with.. Oh my god” you emptied out what must've been everything in your stomach. “Claudia, he's with her!” you cried, drunkenly leaning into your friends side. Claudia grabbed hold of you, walking you down the street so that the two of you could hail a cab. “I know, i’m so sorry”

Once you were situated in the cab, you leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes. You pictured the look on Jack’s face when he saw you. Surprise, then shock, was it regret next? You weren’t sure. Then you imagined the girl he was with. Pretty, and perfect, and you wanted to cry all over again. 

“I'm blocking him!” you slurred, pulling out your phone and heading straight to your contacts. Claudia nodded along, concern etched in every feature on her face. 

Your hand hovers over the block button. “No! I’m deleting him! He's done. I don't ever want to talk to him again!” you cry, ignoring the cab driver's face as he looks on in disapproval.

“Do what will make you feel better hun,” Claudia speaks to you softly, giving you the courage to block and delete Jack from your phone and life. 

⋆ ★

After that night, you were steadily getting sick. You thought nothing of it at first, chalking up all your symptoms to stress and your recent breakup. It wasn’t until you checked your email that your world stopped spinning. 

Amazon: Upcoming Delivery

Hi Yn Ln,

This confirms your purchase from Tampax

Your visa has not been charged yet - we’ll email you when it has been charged.

Thank you for using Amazon Pay.

Your phone fell to the ground with a large thud, and you ran to your kitchen to check your calendar. You flipped through the pages, looking for the little red dots that signified the days that you had gotten your period. You flipped through the months.

February

January

December

You couldn’t think as you stuffed your feet into your ugg boots. You put your jacket on while you half-ran down the stairs, and if it weren’t for the man on the 3rd floor grabbing your arm to steady you, you would've crashed down the remaining flights. 

Your nearest bodega was only one block away, and when you got there a minute later, panting and trying to catch your breath, reality had finally set in. 

Your breathing was laboured and loud as you came to a stop in front of the pregnancy tests. How was this your life? 

You bought one of every kind, and you tried to ignore the burning gaze of the cashier who rang all your items through. 

“That’ll be $65.24” 

It seemed like less than a minute later you were back in your apartment. All of your surroundings blur into nothingness as you pull the tests out of your coat jacket. 

You stumble into your bathroom, slam the door shut behind you, and peel off your leggings. 

You decide to take all the tests at once, leaving only two for backups in case you did something wrong. The last test shook violently in your hand, and only then did you realize that you were crying. 

Positive

Pregnant

+

Two lines

⋆ ★

The first thing you had done when you found out you were pregnant last night was block Jack Hughes. He was the only person you had slept with in the past 3 months, and in your frustration you blamed him. Your relationship was over with, he had moved on, and now you were pregnant? Life was cruel. 

After a long debate, a night full of crying, and an afternoon of rest and relaxation… you decided it was best that you told Jack about the pregnancy. 

You type in Jack's contact: a nickname, two white hearts and a sword emoji that represented something you couldn’t quite recall in your panic induced state. When his nickname showed no results, you hit the backspace button and typed in his full name, which you assumed you might have switched to when you saw him out with another girl. 

No result. 

You dropped your phone into the sink with a loud clatter. 

fuck. 

That night's events replayed in your mind like a bad film. You had blocked and deleted Jack's contact. 

You wipe the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand, breathing in deeply as you reach into the sink and pick up your phone. Everythings fine… you have him on instagram. You can just message him there. 

jackhughes

unblock

Life truly was cruel, you thought, sobs racking your body as you let yourself slide onto your bathroom floor. 

You unblocked Jack, only to find that his follow was removed. 

It's fine… you reassured yourself as you hit the unblock button and started drafting your message. He’ll see it. He has too. 

⋆ ★

You checked to see if he had seen the dm the next evening, and to your surprise, you were blocked.

Tears immediately started blurring your vision and you couldn't help but cry out in pain. 

What the fuck were you going to do.

part two

#journalist au! #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes fic #trevor zegras x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic

[hecateslore]

💌

supervisor!simon

this one's a little hefty.

When you get home you throw your bag on the couch and let out a sigh. Your phone rings in your pocket, pull it out quickly answering it noticing the companies number, “Simon I swear to god-” 

“It’s not Simon.” Johnny’s voice was heard through the, “Johnny!” your eyes widen, you wipe the snot from under your nose. “Are you okay?” his voice thick with concern, you could almost see his thick brows furrowing as he spoke. “Yeah, I’m good.” You say, nose stuffy.  “Didn’t look too good when you left.” he chuckles. 

“I uh, I quit.” you purse your lips awaiting his response. “Oh.” you shut your eyes tightly at his response, “ What are you gonna do about work?” smacking yourself on the forehead, what are you going to do? You didn’t think you were gonna quit this early, with no response from your bestie's manager, anxiety started to build. “That’s a wonderful question.”  you let out a nervous laugh. “Also, how’d you get my number?” you stand with your hand on your hip, phone held between your cheek and shoulder, “Linda.” You felt like you just pushed your firstborn in front of a bus, leaving the beauty that she is. 

“Oh, Linda.” You feel the tears well in your eyes. God Simon was such an ass, to You, to Victor, to the old hires. “I’ll text you later, I gotta go.” Johnny says in a quick hushed tone. You hear the phone click and you wipe your eyes. You sit on the couch trying to figure out what your next move is. 

You're one step ahead, done with the emotional taxing job. Now you need to find a job, you remember the hot pink flier that said “now hiring” in the supermarket. Only downside is that it doesn't pay much. But you need a job now. Only until you can find something with better pay. 

There’s that cafe around the corner, but not too many people go in there.That one furniture store that always says they’re going out of business. You groan and put your head in your hands. 

- 

Simon walked past your empty desk wondering when would be a good time to reach out so you can gather your things, also so he could maybe apologize. Your knick-knacks sat on your desk, the pen where you left it. It was all Johnny's fault. He distracted you. Simon felt like you and him were getting somewhere. Like when you told him you weren’t going to quit (oh he’s delu). 

He had a chance to turn it all around, you were starting to get the hang of things. Not wearing your headphones, talking to him a little. Sometimes saying hi. He’d see Johnny making goo goo eyes at you. The way you two would joke around, and how you would slightly push his arm when he made an inappropriate joke. 

Simon’s eyes skimmed the office, Johnny sat at his desk ducking behind his screen on the phone. Simon wasn’t dumb, Simon’s observant. Narrowing his eyes he could hear Johnny’s voice speaking lowly, light chuckles and he swears he can almost hear you on the other end. 

Feeling like he wants to run over to his desk, Simon walks quietly to Johnny's desk hoping to catch him on the phone. Pale blue eyes catch onto Simon and Johnny hangs up the phone quickly. “Who’s that?” Simon asks. “Just some customer.” Simon only nods, “What’d they want?” Simon quizzed. “Uh life insurance” Simon raises his eyebrows, “Why’d you hang up?” 

“They didn’t need it.” Johnny tried his best to sound convincing. “They didn’t need life insurance?” Simon could only smirk at his answer, “Why don’t  they need life insurance anymore?” Simon knew what he was doing, trying to get Johnny to confess. He used to do it all the time.

He’d try to break people down with the most simple questions, making them stumble over their words, back track. He’d make them really think. Simon knew it was you on the phone. He saw the way Johnny's eyes followed you out of the office. The way his body language changed after you left. “You know the people and the policies Si.” Johnny chuckled. 

“And you couldn’t find them a better plan?” He could see the gears turning in the poor guy’s head. “They didn’t want to hear it.” Johnny falters. “I’m sure.” He sighed. “I’ll let you get back to it then.” 

-

Tuesday Simon sat at his desk with his door wide open, watching Johnny answer phone calls, Seeing him twist the phone cord and chuckle. Sometimes ducking his head every time he needed to have a laugh. Johnny was smart, but not as smart as Simon. He knew what you two were up to. He knew every time you called. So he decided to catch Johnny in a little trap. 

Simon checked your work file, getting your number he dials it on the company phone. Your phone rings only once before you answer, “Johnny, you’re gonna get in trouble-” Simon almost wants to gag. “So you’re the one calling about life insurance?” Simon taunts. Dead silence is heard on your end, “Why’re you calling.” You sound mad and He notes your tone, it's bitter and spiteful. “Cause your stuff is here.” He smirks, kicking his feet up on his desk. 

-

On the other side of the phone you’re laying in bed on your computer filling out applications. “I'll pick it up on friday.” You roll your eyes, hoping he can hear it. “Why not today?” Simon’s voice deep on the phone. Which is very different from Johnny's. Johnny goofs around a lot, poking fun at people from your old job, laughing at the text messages you send. Johnny’s lighthearted. He’s cutesy, Simon’s not. Simon’s like that Itch you can’t scratch. That stray cat you feed, who won’t stay with you but wants your food. 

“I have stuff to do” You huff. “Like what?” His gravelly voice makes a weird feeling in your stomach. “Like, none of your business.” Simon only laughs at your response. “Why’d you call?” You grumble. “Because you need to pick up your stuff.” 

“That’s not happening today.” Simon only hums at your answer. “So it’s happening Friday?” You pull the phone away from your face to roll your eyes yet again, “Yes, Simon.” you answer annoyed. You both are silent for a moment, “You know you could come back whenever you want, right?” Simon confesses. “I’m not.” You say and hear Simon's deep breath on the other end. 

“Is that all?” Annoyance still in your voice. “That’s all.” (okay miranda priestly!!!!) Simon says and the phone clicks. You let out a deep sigh. You feel hot from the phone call (great simon, now my chussy’s wet!) His voice sounded so deep, like he’d been napping all day. That was the downside of quitting, no more eye candy. Simon was so handsome until he opened that mouth of his. He was so smooth sometimes. Like when there’d be something wrong with your computer and he’d hover over you to fix it. Just effortlessly handsome. He was so mean to you though. Maybe he didn’t mean it, maybe that’s who he was because of the military. Or maybe he was just that way because he just is.

Your phone rings again, the supermarket’s number on your screen. You’d been emailing the store's manager, going back and forth about a potential position for you. The best they could do was a cashier which you thanked whatever God that was out there. 

“When’s the earliest you can come in?” The lady on the other line asked, “Is Thursday okay?” you ask , “That’s the earliest for you?” the lady’s voice monotone. “Uh,y-yeah.” you stammer a bit. “Uniforms a black shirt and black pants come in at 7. I’ll have someone to train you.” You almost jump off your bed, a temporary job secured. Step two is now in motion. 

“Okay thank you!” You say cheesing extremely hard. Once you hear the other end click, you flop on your bed face first, squealing into your mattress. 

-

Wednesday, Simon walked into the office with a wide grin on his face. Saying hello and good morning to everyone. An evil plan to monitor the workplace, or in this instance, monitor Johnny. 

Standing with a mug full of black tea. He stood by Victor's desk where he had a full view of Johnny's screen and back. Johnny could feel Simon’s eyes but he chose to ignore him. Simon walked around the office slowly, pacing himself, waiting for your phone call. Simon sat at your desk, pretending he has interest in what Linda is saying, making ooh’s and Ah’s at some random story. He always wondered how you had so much patience with her nonsense, she just went on and on. His body language aligns with Linda but his ears listen for Johnny's hushed voice. 

That’s when the phone rings and Johnny’s eyes shoot at Simon, and from Simon’s peripheral he can see Johnny bring the phone to his ear slowly. Simon excuses himself from the conversation, remembering “he left his tea” by Victor's desk. Johnny shifts in his seat angling the phone away from Simon's vision.  

Simon picks up victors phone dialing “* # 55” and puts it to his ear hearing your boisterous laugh. “Johnny don’t say that!” you warn. Simon pays attention to Victor's screen. “What? I'm just joking.” He says casually, “ but I do think he’s obsessed with you.” he chuckles lowly. 

You let out another laugh, and all Simon could think is corny. “He’s probably listening as we speak.” Johnny ribbed. You giggle at His lousy joke, Simon only rolls his eyes, “Aren’t you two friends?” you say, “I mean, yeah. “ Johnny scratches the back of his neck. “Not as close as we used to be.” he shrugs, grabbing a notepad he draws random shapes. “When are you getting your stuff?” he asks, “Friday.” you answer, “Maybe we can grab lunch?” you suggest, “That’s what got us in trouble in the first place.” Johnny laughs. Simon puts the phone on the hook, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation. 

Simon walks past Johnny, and he could hear him whispering he’s got to go and that he’ll let you know what time his lunch is on friday. Simon goes back to his office, he sits in his chair going through all of the forms Victor managed to fuck up while he listened to Johnny and yours conversation. 

-

Thursday arrives and you're sitting outside waiting for the supermarket to open, you can see your old office in the distance, all your old coworkers entering the building. “You’re the new hire?” A man with a name tag that says “kyle” on it asks you. “Yeah.” you say standing from the chairs on the store patio. “I’m kyle.” he shakes your hand. You introduce yourself and you both walk into the store. “Are you training me?” you question, “Oh no, that’s Ashley, she’s waiting for you in the break room, she wanted me to come get you.” He answers. “Oh cool,.” you follow him to the back of the store. “What do you do here? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“I’m one of the butchers.” he smiles. “Oh.” you say smile fading a bit, “I just cut and trim the meat.” he chuckles. “Oh I thought-” 

“I know what you mean.” he says as he opens the break room door for you. “You’re set.” 

-

Down a couple of buildings, Simon stares at the vending machine, nothing looks appealing. Simon noticed all the Snapples left behind. He knew you liked those, you were the only one who’d buy them. He wonders what you’re up to. Simon kind of wants to call you and bother you about your stuff, just to hear your voice. He likes to frustrate you, and the way you groan every time he asks a dumb question on purpose. 

There was still thirty minutes til opening time, he could run down to the supermarket and grab something to eat, maybe another box of tea. Simon looks down at his watch, he’s the supervisor, he can manage to be a little late. 

So Simon put his coat on and walked out of the front door. A lonely walk to the supermarket, It was pretty quiet, not a lot of people out this early. Simon walked through the automatic doors, lo and behold there you stood behind the register, refreshing your memory. Simon saw you joking with the lady that was training you, making jokes about how slow you were moving and you both laughed at the way you opened the cash register slowly. Simon wanted to walk up and say something, but he took a glance at his watch and just pretended he didn’t see you. 

Simon walked up and down the aisle trying to find something that would please him, so he settled for two granola bars, a cup of yogurt, and a new box of black tea since he was running low.  

-

You finished ringing up the teenage girl who bought four packs of gum and tried to buy a pack of cigarettes. You see a familiar figure bending to the lowest shelf to grab something. You felt your eyes may be deceiving you, you kind of been paranoid hoping you wouldn’t run into any of your old coworkers. 

And maybe you had a sixth sense. Self check out wasn’t open and you were the only person on the registers. You could hurl. There he was standing with two granola bars, a yogurt cup all in one hand and the box of black tea in the other. Simon walked towards your register placing the items on the conveyor belt. The items move towards you slowly. You both watched the items closely.

“Well this is awkward.” 

#supervisor!simon #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap mw2 #cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #cod 141

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns.

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Chapter 2

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The next day you move yourself and your mother to a friends house. Where you both sleep on the floor in the living room. It costs you half a panem a night but it was still a better living arrangement then laying awake until the yearly hours of the morning wondering if a peacekeeper would knock down your door.

You keep your head down. Going straight from work to the house. It seemed to pay off. Your neighbor had reported that the parcels had stopped after a peacekeeper had noticed it was the community and not the intended taking it.

You don't hear from Commander Snow. There was no summons or arrest order made for you.

It leads you to relax bit. He had probably moved on to another after realizing that you would not sell yourself for a pardon and a weekly box of food. You knew many others would, and you wished them the best of luck with their endeavor with Commander Snow. But your nature pushed away such opportunities. You couldn't even tell him you weren't interested to his face. Fear only played a part in that decision.

It was late now as you walked home from you job. Later then usual as your boss had offered you overtime to clean and organize the cold room. You gladly accepted with the added cost of your stay at your friends house.

Four shiny coins had been placed in your hand before you had even done the job. You couldn't believe she was willing to pay this much for such a simple job. You wondered if it was repayment for all your years of hard work for her.

You were never late, always made sure your jobs were done to a standard of excellence, you even stayed back to help train the new people.

All your hard work was finally being rewarded. You made sure to leave the space the best it had ever been.

The money was at least a month's work.

You hadn't written to your brother in so long due to the cost of the paper and shipping fees but now with your extra cash you could reach out.

You make the journey to the stationary store, getting in just before close and go around the back of the building. Using the flat wall as a writing pad.

Your brother had gone to district 8 after influenza swept through killing half their work force. They had asked for volunteers to relocate. Many young men offered. The pay was higher in district 8 as the Capital had a great need for the fabrics and manufacture that it produced. Your brother was picked being effortlessly strong and healthy.

The day he left was the worst day of your life. You miss him terribly, only communicating through letters which were expensive and took ages to find its way to its destination.

You tell him how much you miss him, and worry about him over at district 8. That your mother is well, and prays for him every night before bed. You thank him for the money he sends when he can. Telling him of your own good fortune with the coins, and how he was to spend his half on a cold drink if he could get one, and a night out on the town.

Your pen stills as your thoughts turn to Commander Snow. Should you tell your brother of the strange officer. He was always protective. Would he try and come back to district 12 for you. would they even let him.

You decide not to. It would only worry him, and in his worry he would make rash decisions. You would not be responisble for his harm.

Instead you reiterate how much you miss him, and warn him to write back soon.

You drop two of the coins and the pencil back into the envelope, sealing it shut and stuffing it in your pocket. It was too late to ship it off. You would have to wait until tomorrow.

You felt scared walking back to the house with the money as if people could sense it in your pocket.

You remind yourself your being silly as you walk through the road dividing the streets. There was no one else out at this time. Only you, and you were nearly to the safety of the house.

There was no street lamps in the districts. The only light coming from the houses you pass. You try to remain in the light but sway slightly into the shadows as you reach the steps of your accommodation.

You scream as you feel hands upon your skin. One going around your mouth to quiet you and the other pulling you back against the house.

"Sh sh, Its just me. It's just me. You're safe".

You feel your kness tremble as you pin the voice to a face. Commander snow stood before you, using his body to press you up against the side of the house. His chest pushed against your shoulders, his leg pushed between yours and melded to the wall behind. He kept his left hand on your right shoulder to keep you still and only removed his right hand from your mouth when you went mute. Who would you scream for that could do anything any way.

With his body pressed against yours in such a tight manner, he had free use of his hands.

You weren't getting out from under him, even you realized that. You looked for guns or knife on him but found nothing in the light the moon and surrounding houses offered. He didn't wear his official Capital issued Commander uniform. Instead he dressed down in high waisted black pants, and a long sleeved cotton shirt. He still wore his dog tags and army boots.

'So this is were you've been hiding, hm?". He ran his knuckles along your cheek bone, and you shuddered from his touch.

"No, Sir".

"yes, Sir. I left boxes at your house like a fool".

You could tell he was upset with you.

"It's fine. You'll be back there tomorrow to take the food in. Did you go through my first box i sent?"

You nod your head and a smile appears on his lips.

'What did you have first?". He pushes back a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"My mother had a apple" You torn it from her after her first bite.

"i asked what you had first". He pressed his body harder against you.

"We haven't touched the box otherwise, Sir. We can give it back to you. We can compensate for the veggies and the fru-"

He was not happy with your answer, cutting you off.

"Ungrateful brat".

"Sir, we never asked you for it and we don't have money to pay for it"

"You're welcome" his pointer runs along your nose, "I can't have my partner in crime going hungry. Now can I".

You shiver from the familiar way of speaking. You did not want the Commander of district 12 to have a nic-name for you.

"I ought to go inside. They are waiting for me".

You try and move away, thinking he would release you. His cover would be blown if they take to looking for you.

He does not, choosing to place his hands around your neck. Not showcasing his great strength but resting in warning. His thumbs press gently into your throat.

"i think they can wait a few more minutes. Don't you?".

You nod as much as his hold would allow you to. You felt as if he was all around you. With his body wedging you flat against the wall, you felt as if you were sharing the same breath.

"you're ok" He repeats, "i am not going to hurt you".

"Perhaps it would put me at ease if you stepped back a bit, sir"

He shakes his head, "You have a habit of running away".

"You have a habit of appearing out of no where".

You can see him grin under the dim light. That was intentional, He always wanted you to feel as if he was always watching and could turn up at any moment.

"Can you make me some more of those oat bars?"

"Ye-yes" you stutter.

"Do you have the ingredients?"

"yes" you repeat.

"Good. Bring them to my office the day after next".

"Yes, Sir. Can I go now?"

"I haven't seen you for nearly two weeks and you're so quick to run away?"

"'Sir, please I Have to get inside". away from you.

"Why were you so late getting home?" he ignored your plea completely.

His thumbs circles on your throat.

"I had to work back" you admit.

"And then?". He already knew that wasn't the full story so you confess you brought some paper and took some time to write a letter.

"A letter?" he asks, "A letter to who?".

"My brother. He went to district 8 for work".

You gasp as he releases you. Giving you a least two feet of space.

"Lets see it" he demands.

With shaky hands you pull the crumpled letter from your pocket. He grabs it before you could hold it out to him.

He rips it open, and pours the two silver coins into his hand, tossing them around.

"My coins".

"My coins" you state, taking a step forward, "For my over time"

Surely he wouldn't find it appealing to take your coins from you. He was commander Snow he didn't need any money in district 12. He could just take. There would be no one to stop him.

"And where do you think your boss got the coins to give you for your over time. Where's the rest of them".

It was a set up. Not hard work and luck that gave you a few extra coins. But an odd infatuation from the officer.

You pull the rest from your pocket showing them to him.

He scoffs, "i gave her eight , she gives you four. I expected her to take two, but four. Does your district know no limits to their greed".

He mentally leaves his sweet girl out of the picture. She had received four and was willingly giving 2 away. He was sure you would also give your mother one and spend the rest wisely. Tigress always brought him new clothes with her overtime. Using old curtains to fashion her own.

You hold out your hand for him to take the coins back.

Much like his tigress, You were giving what you had to him.

"If I had known" you start.

"The point was that you didn't know". He snaps.

You still hold out your hand for him to retrieve the coins.

"Keep them. You earnt them".

You pocket the change. You had really earnt them.

He balls your brothers coins in his fist and moves out more into the light to read your letter. You were so glad you decided to leave Commander Snow out of it.

he reads fast, flipping the page and going on to the next in a matter of seconds.

He nods satisfied that it was in fact a letter to your brother and not a lost lover, before he folds the letter back up and places the coins back in the envelop.

"I'll mail it for you" he offers but you protest at the thought.

'I'd prefer to do it, Commander".

"You don't trust me? After everything we've been through, and the secrets we share".

"No-I-" you were thankful he interrupted you again, unsure of your own sentence.

"We're friends, right?"

You nod having the feeling it wasn't truly a question.

"Friends do things for each other. Let me to this for you".

"It's too big of an ask" you try again. You reach for the letter but he pulls it back.

"You could", a step forward had you going back, " do something for me to ease your conscious".

He moves towards you again until you were once again pressed up against the wall.

"What?" you breathe.

His hand cups your face, and his body braces itself against yours before his lushes lips capture yours.

The kiss is deep and hard, Barely moving off before coming back for more. His tongue licks at the bottom of your lip, sucking gently when you don't let him in.

He repositions his head to a tilt, keeping his top lip pressed against your bottom as he does. He comes back with full force, your head knocking softly against the wall from the force.

"that" another small kiss presses against your lips. A quick peck to your sealed lips.

You turn your head in case of another one, and his hand on the side of your face follows.

He digs into his pocket, pulling out two coins and pressing them into your hand.

"Take the coins. Buy yourself a new dress"

"I don't want-"

He sh's you.

"take the coins, buy the dress and stop avoiding me".

"Thursday" you remind him, the day after next.

"Yes, Thursday. Don't forget. Tomorrow if you can".

The house across the track opens its door and an middle aged women appears throwing a bucket of dirty water over the terrace. Coriolanus shrinks into the shadows until she return back inside.

"Go inside" He demands, stepping back. You rush away from him not looking back as you run into the house. But you feel his stare upon your back.

The next morning two peacekeepers knocked on the door to drive you and your mother back to your house, leaving you with a large basket of food.

'What have you done?" Your mother asks you behind closed doors.

"I am not sure" you reply honestly.

-----------

You make the worst batch of oat meal bars you've ever made and deliver them to the compound.

You were almost sure you were going to be shot as you approached the gate but they must have been expecting you, opening the gate as you neared.

You had tried to just give the basket to the Peacekeeper but he demanded that you go inside with him. You follow him through the large estate.

Peacekeepers old and new were everywhere. Some without their uniform giving them an almost human look. They eyed you as you passed.

They thinned as you reached a stunning white building made of stone. Everything else was structured out of metal so you knew that the building only housed the most important people.

It wasn't any less busy as people ran about you with stacks of paper. It was loud inside the walls. People talking to each other as they walked, some yelling down a telephone. None of them even glance at you or the peacekeeper you followed.

He leads you to a large oak door, twice the length of you, and he knocks three times.

"Come in" you hear Commander Snow call.

The peacekeeper opens the door but makes no attempt to enter the threshold. You do, and the door is immediately closed behind you.

"You couldn't make it yesterday?" he asked crossing his desk to join you in the center. You hold your basket like a protective shield.

It kept you distanced as places his hands on your shoulders.

'i had to go to work" You explain and you push the basket to his chest, attempting to rid his hands from you.

He does take the basket with a small hmm before returning to his desk. He places the basket down and digs for a oat bar. As he bites down you could tell he could taste your lack of effort.

Still he eats it without complaint as he pours coffee from a tray into two mugs. He motions for you to sit down but you were itching to go.

"I should go" you state.

"Sit" his mouth was full with the oat bar.

You do sit but don't drink the coffee offered. You notice that he had better looking biscuits on his tray.

He leans against the desk next to you and takes another big bite of the bar. His eyes wonder down to you where you sat anxious twisting your ring.

"What's that?" he points with the oat bar down.

It was only a small metal ring. Thin pieces of twisted metal in a circle. So small most people never even noticed it.

Your brother had given it to you on your nineteenth birthday as a congratulations for not being selected for the hunger games.

He obviously knew it was a ring, and you obviously knew he was really asking who gave you that.

"A gift from my brother before he left". You stop twisting it to draw attention off it but it was too late.

He finished his oat bar, dusting his hands clean from the crumbs before standing up to full height.

"Give it to me".

You shake your head no. It was the last thing you had of him.

Still Coriolanus held his hand out expecting.

"It's very dear to me, Sir".

"I'll take very good care of it".

You look up at him with pleading eyes, his softens but he doesn't relent.

"You can give it to me or I can take it", he warns.

You almost cry as you twist it off your pointer finger and place it in his palm.

He flips it around his pinky finger, and wedges both hands between his knees.

"There's sugar there if you want it".

You stand up angry.

"I don't want it. I have to get to work".

You attempt to storm off but he catches you with a firm hold on your upper arm and a hand wrapped around the side of your face.

Under his strong fingers you remember your anger could get you killed.

"Don't be upset with me" he pleads.

"I ain't upset" you remark although you eyes brim with tears, "They dock my pay half if i am even a minute late. I have to go".

"I'll walk you to the gate". You wait for him to take the lead.

You find the walk back less busy as people avoid the Commanding officer. He twists the ring in the same anxious manner that you did. He wanted to say something. Offer something in return but could think of nothing that would compensate.

It's too late by the time the journey ends. He pulls open the gate and the Peacekeepers facing forward don't turn.

You could feel his hand on your back and it shoots you forward. He remains at the gate watching you flea from him.

No one asks you why you're crying at work. So long as you are doing your tasks they don't care.

----------

On Saturdays you have a stall in the markets selling your baked goods. Your friend helps you when she has the day off for a portion of the profits.

Today it was sunny. Hot but with a nice cool breeze. People flooded through the stalls. Your cakes sold great, even better with the fresher ingredients from Coriolanus box.

You could sell the oat bars with chocolate on top for nearly double. Chocolate was rare in the districts. Most people had never even tasted it before.

Coriolanus was doing his rounds letting a younger officer with great potential shadow him for the day. He freezes when he saw you.

He had walked these markets two or three times before, Had you always been there? He must have walked past you and your stall and never even noticed. Fate has a mysterious way of working. He was now certain that it pushed you into the compound due to his ignorance while on duty.

You looked beautiful in a white top and tight blue jeans. You had your hair covered in a bandana again and wore your normal work boots.

He put his helmet back on in case you looked over and saw him. He was sure you were still upset about Thursday, and he didn't want to spoil your good mood.

The young solider followed suit. Hiding from sight without question. He might survive district 12.

You laughed with your friend who sat on a milk crate to eat her apple. At her feet lay a brown sack filled food. She quickly closed it to avoid being robbed but Coriolanus had already seen it.

He tightened his hold on his rifle. No doubt it had come from you. from Coriolanus to be more correct. He agreed to feed you, even if that meant feeding your mother too, but he did not agree to feed your friends.

Your next box would be smaller.

A school group blocks his view of you as they pass, and Coriolanus refocus to his surroundings. He sees a young boy, no more then 6, dilly dallying behind the rest of the group. He goes up to each stall looking at what they had to offer before slowly making his way to his class.

He was going to be left behind at his current rate.

"you see the young boy in the red shirt?'' Coriolanus asks his soilder.

"Yes, Sir". The boy flexes his shoulders as if the child poses a threat.

''When he reaches that cake stand, I want you to push him over".

He pats the boys shoulder urging him to go. He looked confused but followed command going over to a nearby stall to yours and pretending to look at something.

The young boy skips two stalls to come directly over to yours. His eyes go round at the sight of the chocolate oat bar.

Your smile gets wipped off as the boy is knocked to the ground. You glare instead at the Peacekeeper who made a lap back to Coriolanus.

The boy screams and crys at his scrapped knee. Coriolanus ducks behind a large pillar as you round your table to pick him up.

You were talking to him, soothing him as you rocked side to side. He reacted positively wrapping his little arms around your neck.

Coriolanus bangs his head against the piler. That was the reaction he was hopping for. To see you in a nurturing state as you consoled the boy.

"is that what you wanted sir?" his solider stood in front of him, and he pushes the boy out of the way. He had blocked the view of you carrying the child and setting him on your table.

You reach behind the crying boy and offer him a chocolate oat bar. His crying almost immediately stops.

"yes. Good. Go back to base and have the rest of the afternoon off solider".

The solider is ecstatic at the news, and with a "thank you, sir" he was pushing himself back through the crowd.

You were talking but he wasn't sure if it was to the boy or to your friend. He wished he knew what you were saying.

You had taken off your bandana and wet it with you water bottle to wipe the blood off his knee.

It was so natural for you, he thought, to care for others. Once you got comfortable enough, how would you care for him, he wondered.

Would you baby him as you babied this child if he got hurt.

he shuffles back realsing that he had itched forwarrd as you picked up the child again. You gave him another bar to eat. He was certain you were talking to your friend this time, looking squarely at her before you took off after the school.

The primary school was located at top of a large hill. Away from the noise and violence of the district.

The young boy clung to you as you walked. His chocolate hands getting over your white top as he licked the icing off.

Coriolanus followed you out of the markets. he waits until you were away from the crowd before picking up his pace to you.

The young boy catches Coriolanus' eye and begins to struggle in your grip, pointing at him. The big scary peacekeeper was coming your way.

You tighten your hold and spin to face him.

You looked shocked to see him.

"Commander Snow, sir"

A formal greeting to someone who had you pinned to the side of a wall four night ago.

He smiles at you. Trying to distract you so he can move closer to you.

"I saw" he says, "and I've come to help you return the lost boy"

"I'll be fine on my own, sir"

"I insist. You never know who lurking around. My job to keep you safe".

Coriolanus was not speaking from his station as commander.

"Do you want me to carry him?" Coriolanus offered looking at the large hill.

"No, no" the boy begs, but Coriolanus reaches for him anyway.

You turn away, curling your body around the child.

"No. It's ok. I've got him".

Coriolanus was sure you were going to struggle getting up the hill with the extra weight. If the boy was only a sack of potatoes, he would have just yanked it from your grip. But you looked so good with a child on your hip.

You could always swap half way if you wanted.

"It's ok, darlin'" you rub soothing circles on the boys back, making Coriolanus jealous, "we're gonna get you back to class".

We're. we. us. The partners in crime.

He bucks his chest out with confidence.

You begin your journey up the hill, and Coriolanus was right. Not even half way up and you had to shift the child around to your front to distribute the weight. Coriolanus goes to take him but you reject his offer once again.

"He's alright" you insist.

The child rests his head on your chest, his eyes staring at Coriolanus as if to say ha ha.

He was about to suggest you perhaps just let the boy walk, but you beat him through the silence.

"Are you following me?"

"i was showing a new candidate the patrol routes. I just happened to have seen you with the boy, and wanted to help you get him back to class as per my duty".

Close enough to the truth.

"And lydia's? how did you know i was staying there?"

His unclips his helmet and attaches it to his rifle.

"I asked around". Threated your neighbors.

You fall into silence again and this time it was Coriolanus who brecks it,

"Are you going to share everything I give you with others?"

You scoff at his words, ''saw me with the child, hey?'".

He grabs your arm to turn you causing the boy to wail again.

'You might find I am a lot more closed fisted if I can't be certain it's actually going to you".

You tear free and bounce the boy in your arms.

"shhh baby. It's all ok'' You smooth his hair back, cradling him to you.

You step away from the scary peacekeeper as you and the boy talk. You soon compliance him back to a settled temperament, and Coriolanus steps back over to you.

He doesn't mention the sharing again. He would wait for the journey back. He found himself childishly annoyed when your attention went all to the small boy.

You huff as the boy gets heavier in your arms but Coriolanus doesn't offer to take him again. He'll let you struggle.

"Why do you feed people you don't know?" the boy sucks on the remainder of the oat bar, slopper getting all over your shoulder.

You don't answer. He calks it up to the physical labor.

"The prisoners, the boy" he pushes. He leaves himself out of the list. You both feed each other because you innately knew each other. You were partners in crime and partners in crime look after one another.

"Who's to say I don't know em".

"I assure you after I was done if the prisoners knew you they would have given you up. They didn't know".

He half regretted his sentence seeing you tense up. But he was sure he left a impression of a strong, powerful man. You just needed to get over your guilt first to see it.

"We look after each other in District 12. It may not seem like it to you but these are good people here".

You looked after people here, he wasn't so sure that they had the same loyalty back.

He had seen enough flips and crumbles to know that for the right price they would feed you to him.

He wanted to tell you this. To set you straight, and show that he was the only one looking out for you. But he knew the information would upset you and he had already done that once this week. He would save it for another time.

You struggle up the hill, puffing out gratefully as the small school house came into view. A large tree marked the boundary, upholding a wire fence around the small metal huts.

You turn to Coriolanus, "I think the gun might scare them".

He take his large rifle off his shoulder and leans it against the tree. Your face still read of your displeasure.

"it might just be best if i go on with him".

He looks to you and then back to the school. He could still see you if he stayed underneath the shade of the tree.

'' I'll wait for you here then''. The gun is slung over his shoulder and he takes its place against the tree.

The boy watches Coriolanus over your shoulder as you walk with him.

You call out to the teacher frantically recounting her children.

"hey, I think you're missing one!". You place the small boy on the ground and wave goodbye to him as he runs over to his teacher, complaints of his sore knee spilling from his mouth.

Turning back to Coriolanus, your smile disappears and your pace that was slow with the child picked up to a near sprint.

He straightened up as you came near but you walked straight past him without looking.

"Do you want children?" He matches your pace

"No" you spat, "never".

Maybe if you met the right man, he wanted to say. A man who could protect them.

But he swallowed the words. This situation was new to him too. He didn't want to make promises he would later not plan to keep.

"You should reconsider" he says instead, "I think you would make a good mother".

You were naturally a very warm and loving person. While others walked around the crying boy you picked him up and nurtured him.

Coriolanus remembered a time in the war he had gone out alone in search of food. He found only hungry dogs, who chased him through the ruined city.

"Help!" he cried, looking back at the fast approaching beasts.

His foot catches a large pothole in the ground and he is thrown upon his face. Sure he was going to get eaten he calls out for Tigress but it is a large man that appears at name.

He bangs the lids of trash cans together and shouts angrily at the dogs, scaring them off.

A savior, he thought. But dropping the lids and turning to Coriolanus, the man didn't cradle the boy to his chest as you had but reached for his axe under his coat and swung it down.

He had managed to roll out of its path and get to his feet just in time.

The man was slower than the dogs, overcome with starvation. Coriolanus could disappear between the buildings. He remembered as he hid in rubble while waiting for the man to pass, how sacred he was.

It was one of the core memories that haunted him to this day.

oh how he wished that someone like you had found him instead, but he wasn't sure people could be like that anymore. He wasn't sure how through all the misery and pain you could remain so soft. He wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh and have a taste.

"What would be the point. Loving someone only to watch them get killed in the hunger games".

You feet come down hard, channeling the anger you couldn't express.

"The chances are small. There are over 300 families in district 12".

He just wanted to hear you say you would like children. The picture of you big and round while rocking a boy the same age as the lost child seemed to be getting hazer as you resisted.

"You should ask Milly May, or Harrison Flint if their chances seemed small".

This years tributes to the Hunger Games. They both died the first day. Milly May the first hour.

"Motherhood looks good on you. Natural" he tries again.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him.

“I can’t give you what you want. No matter how much you try and sweet talk me or buy me. It won’t be given”.

It didn't matter, was the first thought that appeared in his head.

"I don't want anything from you. In fact, it's been me that's been giving. Food. Protection. All to have it spat back in my face".

Your eyes float down the hill. The beginning of Town was still a little while away.

"I understand, sir. Perhaps your efforts would be appreciated more else where".

It was a gentle let down but resulted in a harsh strike.

His hand came down upon your cheek, almost knocking you to the ground. You stumble off balance, looking up at him.

The anger on his face morphs into disappointment. Before he could reach out for you, you take off running down the hill.

You might be beaten for your rejection.

You feel his hand brush against your shoulder as he tries to grab you but you avoid it.

Pushing yourself down the hill as fast as you could go. But it wasn't fast enough.

He tackles you to the ground, crawling on top of you and securing both your wrists with one hand.

"I am sorry, I am sorry" he holds the side of the face he stuck, smoothing it over, "I shouldn't have done that".

You trash under him, screaming.

His soft hand retracts from your face to take off the rifle from his shoulder, he sets it down next to you.

His dog tags had made their way from under his shirt and now dangle over your face. You can see he had added your ring to the chain.

''Let me see" his hand returns to your jaw, forcing it to the ground on the other side so he could inspect your cheek, "only a little bruise".

He lets your head go back to its normal position, and you're left looking in his eyes.

"What I do, I do for you. Okay? not your friends, and not for anyone else. Do you understand?".

His hand reaches up going to your palm and enclosing your curled hand with his. He held himself up with his hold on your wrists, and with the other now pressed over yours, all his weight bore down on you.

The weight upon your hands hurt.

"Yes, Sir".

"If I find out you've been sharing again. I'll hang them for thievery".

You give two little nods.

"I understand, Sir. It won't happen again. Please, let me get up".

He hops off you. choosing to crouch at your feet as you sit up. He notices your shoe lace untied and begins to pull the laces tight and loop the knot back up.

You sit there stunned as he picks up his gun and rises. Offering you a hand you take it and he pulls you up.

The journey down the hill begins again. His hand reaches out to keep you in pace with him when he feels you propelling down.

You reach the bottom in a comfortable silence and stop at the foot of the hill.

"We can't be seen going back together. It will put a target on my back".

You were right. The district scum might harm you if they thought it would get back at Coriolanus.

He nods in understanding.

"You go ahead. I'll follow". He gestures forward.

You go quickly back to your stall. He tries to keep focus on you but your short stature gets momentarily lost in the crowd.

You reach your stall and go straight back behind it. Your friend is standing next to you talking in a worried hush tone when Coriolanus reaches the table.

You don't look at him as he takes one of the chocolate oat bars and continues walking back to the compound.

It tasted dry in his mouth, he didn't like that you were still baking for others, you were going to have to shut down your stall.

-----------

Coriolanus stood upon the platform at the hanging tree, having it checked for bombs twice.

The gate was swung open for the public, and every available peacekeeper was present and armed.

The convicted all formed a line. Being hung one by one for dramatic effect. The families of the dead being forced to stand at the front of the audience so they could grab their sons/brothers/ cousins shoes as Peacekeepers dropped him and restrung the rope.

Coriolanus forbid traditional burial for traitors of the country. Families would have to settle for burying the shoes of their deceased love one while their bodies are cremated and sent to Dr Gaul's office as decoration.

"Phineas Hightower. Sentenced to death for consorting with rebels and making plans of an attack. Disturbing the peace of the district".

Coriolanus read into a microphone that fed through the town.

A young man approaches. 30 at the most. He didn't look scared as the others did. No tears or pleas of innocence. Coriolanus almost respected him.

The man kicks off his shoes as he steps upon the box, and a loud cry of grief overtook the space. The mockingjays echoed it out.

Peacekeepers were on the old women, presumably his mother, fast. Focus must be kept on the fate of the traitor, and not on the cries of mothers.

The old women reaches for her sons shoes but is shoved before she could reach them. She pleas with the officers taking her to the back, but they are like statues as they manhandle her away.

Coriolanus could now see tears spring in the eyes of the young man. A befitting end for a capital traitor.

He gives the order to continue the show. They ready the man for execution.

More commotion is heard as the crowd readjusts to let someone through. He looks to see you making your way through the crowd to the front.

Had you come to see him. Watch him as he took life. Does the power fill your belly with excitement to know that the same hands that caressed you now commanded death of another.

You wanted to make yourself known to him. To let him know he had a friend in the crowd. You had dressed pretty for him back in your clothes you wore for your vaccination. A nod to your secret bond.

You left the bandana off, letting your loose hair fall around your shoulders.

But no. You don't come to his side of the stage. You rush to the soon to be dead man.

You grab the shoes, just as the box is kicked. You squeeze your eyes shut and bring them to your chest.

Coriolanus steps back to the guards behind him.

He nods in your direction, "Take that girl to my study. Make sure she doesn't leave".

Coriolanus hears the body drop, and the Guard move to catch you.

You hadn't moved since the rope stretched. You stood there eyes closed and shoes to your chest until you felt hands upon you telling you to move.

You look back at Coriolanus on the stage to see him looking down at you.

The rage in your eyes matches his.

---------

Coriolanus makes a trip to the bathroom to wash his face and make himself more presentable. He takes off his official hat, and unbuttons the top of his jacket.

You had been waiting for him for nearly an hour and a half. Having to wait for the rest of the hangings to finish, the crowd to go home, the peacekeepers to sweep the area and the final report from all leaders to Coriolanus before he dismisses them for the night.

He untucks his chain from his neck and holds your ring in his hand.

You were still his girl. Just unshaped still.

Placing the hat under his arm he makes his way to you in his study. The Peacekeeper stood guard at the door.

"You can leave" he tells the man, before entering.

He sees you shoot up from the chair as he closes the door behind him.

You had been crying. He could see the tear lines still wet on your face.

"What were you doing at the hanging?". He storms over to you. He was giving you an opportunity to satisfy him.

I was there to see you but the women upset me. He wanted you to say.

"Leave me alone. i have to get these shoes home" You try and push past him but he shoves you down into the chair. Resting his weight upon the arms of it as he leaves over you.

"I've told you once, associating with rebels will get you hanged".

"his mother won't have a body to burry. She will have his shoes".

It was the first time you hadn't called him Sir in a conversation.

He wanted to slap you until you did.

But his hands were busy taking the shoes from you.

"Now she won't have shoes either. She can burry a memory".

You push the chair back to escape him. He could tell you wanted to hit him. Your fists balled and your stance was ready to swing.

"Come here" he demanded. It gnawed at him that you were upset with him. He was only doing his job.

"Give me the shoes" you demanded.

He drops the shoes to the ground.

"come and get them" he taunts.

You seem hesitant but you do, bending down at his feet to retrieve the shoes.

He grabs your jaw once your knee height and you struggle against him.

"Tell me I am taking good care of you" He pushes down as you try and get up. "Tell me how handsome I am".

You weren't truly mad at him, only overcome with emotion, he assured himself. But he too felt heavy after hanging days.

he had wanted to rest in your arms, similar to the boy with the scraped knee. But you offered him no comfort.

This time you do strike him across the face. He shoves you away and you scramble far, taking one shoe with you.

He begins to laugh, would every comfort be denied to him. No, not you.

"Don't you ever touch me again. You stay away from me from now on".

He was going to make you regret ever saying those words to him. You were going to give him every drop of kindness you held even if he had to wring it from your body. he deserved it after everything he had been through. You were his reward for it all, and by god he was going to have it.

But not now. Now he opened the door for your freedom, watching you run out.

He would make sure you came crawling back. Telling him you wanted his great care again. Telling him how handsome he was.

He would have you all. How much pain you wanted to go through first was entirely up to you.

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #dead dove do not eat #tom blyth #president snow #hunger games #Commander snow

[dilfbunny]

Breaking The Glass Ceiling (18+)

ft. aunt! ada x fem! reader

WARNINGS !! - incest, age gap - reader is in her 20s, mentions of parental issues, ——throat training with a dildo/strap on, gagging, fingering, vag fucking with a strap, pet names 𓃹

wc. 1.2k

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Your mother had always resented her little sister. She was the family favorite. The successful sibling. Even you seemed to favor her.

She holds a grudge, still to this day. She swears that Ada stole everything she’s ever had. Parental approval, boyfriends, and now you.

Ada was constantly on her ass about how she raised you way too sheltered. She predicted early on that you’d drown once you stepped foot outside in your own world outside of your mother’s control.

Well, she was right.

College didn’t work out for you and that was something your mother couldn’t bring herself to understand. She didn’t care what the reason was. She was only focusing on how you ‘gave up your future.’ But waking up was hard enough as it was, going back to school just made everything worse. Staying motivated at all was hard. Keeping a steady job was hard. Some days, life was just too real.

To your mom, that made you lazy. And of course she blamed it on the new boyfriend.

That was always her go to. It wasn’t that you were struggling, just the things you surrounded yourself with. Your friends, your phone, whatever she could bring into the matter. You were just fine.

She did nothing but undermine your feelings throughout the years, even more so once you became an adult. You knew you were going to be pushed out of the nest eventually, but still, even a little support would be nice.

She didn’t bother to reach out to you from that point forward. You were supposed to follow her footsteps through to the right path. But you didn’t want that. You weren’t your mother. You were you. Even if you weren’t sure of who you were yet.

None of that weighed you down anymore, however. Not with aunt Ada’s unwavering support.

Of course you went to her when you were having relationship troubles. You wouldn’t get far with asking your mother.

Ada always had herself figured out. She was self-reliant, didn’t need anyone and nothing could bring her down. She just breathed confidence and lured in whatever she was fishing for without fail.

You sought her out for advice. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself by giving bad head for the first time and it was time to take your relationship with your boyfriend to the next level. You figured she probably had some experience considering the way your mother talked about her.

She sure did. Only, instead of the words of advice you anticipated, you’re stationed on your knees in the middle of her living room.

“Open wider, angel. You can do better than this.” she pushes the silicone deeper down your throat, causing your eyes to squint and fight back tears. Her movements were slow which almost made it worse. All the tips and tricks to cease your gagging weren’t at all paying off.

She teases your gag reflex trying to get you to adjust to her length despite your apparent struggling. With a hand on her hip, the other holding you by your hair, she sinks you all the way down to the base of it. “C’mon, don’t make such a sour face,” she mutters. “Relax your throat like I told you.”

Even though she was giving you a hard time, she was undeniably enjoying the view. You looked so pretty, bruising your poor knees and trying so desperately to learn. She could hardly remember you as her niece. Not at all. You were a stranger to her.

“Less teeth,” she firmly reminds you when you start to choke. You’re drooling, stringing saliva with every one of her movements. You couldn’t help it. She picked out one of the biggest cocks she owned just for this special occasion.

Your throat tightens as you try to relax as told, tightening your lips to avoid the scraping of your top row of teeth.

Your thighs knead together as you shift your weight, sitting on your calves. You were completely drenched, and you knew you weren’t supposed to enjoy this. You weren’t meant to be here.

She was your aunt. You just came for a little advice.

“Good girl,” she coos, tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear and suddenly you lose all sense of morality. She looked down at you like you were the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes on, her voice smooth as silk, repressing all of your doubts. “You catch on pretty fast, so how about the next step?”

She pulls the toy out of your mouth, letting it stand firm as is. “On all fours for me, angel.”

You didn’t even question, didn’t even stop to think. You just did.

You move to your hands and knees, displaying your backside in all it’s glory to her. Perfectly untouched.

Her fingers prod through your entrance with ease, your cunt sucked them in eagerly. She felt around inside searching for that spongey spot which didn’t take long.

You let out a high pitched squeal as she teases over it, curving her slender digits deeper into you. All she wanted was to ruin you in that moment, stretch you to the limit so no man could ever mold you to his desire. But she wouldn’t want to ruin your first time. She knew you’d enjoy her methods much better regardless.

She spreads your legs almost uncomfortably far apart, causing you to shake as you struggle to hold yourself up. The rubber slaps against your clit, making you lose your balance all the more. You clench, expecting to be filled with it. But she only slots the tip of it in.

Your chest lowers to the carpet, back arching into her cock. She just jabs the tip in and out, not quite reaching where you really want it deep inside.

“More…” you whine out, perching your ass furthermore. You tried to meet her, only met with more distance.

“Now, that’s not how we ask for things, is it?”

She was fucking with you, forcing you to a needy state. “Please—, need your cock deeper, Ada,” you let out a pitiful plea, music to her ears.

“Mnn, yeah?” she grits her teeth as if she could feel it, stuffing the toy halfway into your cunt. “Like this?”

The way you pouted made her want to torture you more, deprive you of your need until you were begging and babbling for her to fuck you, make you take it all. She couldn’t resist.

She plunges the rest of the way in, stifling a gasp from your lips. “Such a greedy little thing aren’t you? Hope you can handle what you asked for.”

She ruts into you roughly, hitting your deepest parts, places you never dare tried to reach. Your nails claw at the carpet, grasping, searching for anything to hold onto. She keeps pumping you full, filling the room with the sounds of your gushy pussy, so desperate for release.

“m’ cumming!” you cry.

“So soon? Mnn, you really are too easy.” she grunts, pulling you back by your hips to meet her thrusts deeper. “Cum for me then, don’t hold back angel.”

With your eyes lulling back, body quaking, you reach your peak. The rush leaves you breathless, unable to stumble out a single word. Your body falls weak, trembling onto her floor, which was probably coated in your mess.

You don’t even remember what you originally came for, or why it felt so unbelievably soul snatching when it shouldn’t.

Ada eventually pulls out, removing the harnessed strap from her waist.

“Anything else you need to learn? You’re always welcome here. Remember that.”

#tw dark content #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #resident evil #ada smut #ada wong #ada wong x reader #tw.incest #ada wong x reader smut #resident evil x reader

[munv]

𝗪𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗔 𝗝𝗢𝗜𝗡 𝗠𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞?

You never considered yourself the most outgoing type of person. You did what you had to do, pay the bills, wash your dishes, and go work near the little cafe two blocks away from your house. It was better this way, tranquil and soft. Your friends always thought it was a bit boring though. 

I mean— who doesn’t want to embrace the more exciting things in life when you’re finally in your 20’s? Therefore they found it their job to spice up your humble little life!

So that’s why you were confused when you found yourself at a big ass house out of town surrounded by flashing neon lights, horny people grinding upon one another, and a guy trying to get your attention. Your “best friends” thought the only way to trick you into coming outside was empty promises of coffee and sweets.

It worked.

That’s how you ended up stuck to a wall near what you presumed to be a kitchen with this guy..what was his name again? Not that it matters, the only thing that stuck out was the fact he had really really pointy teeth. If you were supposed to fuck with this guy, he’d probably bite your tits off and you were keen on keeping yourself saved for someone who looked like they actually payed their rent. 

“You know..if you give me your number this could really work out between us? I’m a handsome guy, you’re a pretty girl. We could make pretty babies.”

“Pardon?” Now that caught your attention. 

“I said-” “nono I heard what you said I just-uh..”

What the hell was this guy talking about in the first place? 

Before getting the chance to utter a word a man came in between you two, all the while pushing the thing bothering you out of the way. “Man what the hell?! I was talking to my girl!” 

“Oh? She’s yours? Didn’t look that way with the uncomfortable look she was giving you.” By now you three must have attracted some attention and with the eyes boring into you, it made you painfully aware of the situation you were in. 

"sweetheart? Is he bothering you?" he then turned to you.

Ah, he was probably trying to save you from this stick in the mud

you responded quickly with a small nod, and he took the hint "as you can see, you're bothering her" he gave a sly faux smile before extending his hand to the small of your back. That closed eye smile was fake as hell and holy shit you were a fool for now only realizing this guy was hot as hell.

"we'll be going now. If you don't mind?"

The man in front was significantly taller and you're sure those muscles weren't a joke at all. "r-right! whatever!" the guy sweated and speed walked the other way.

After a few minutes the crowd had finally cleared up, and the mysterious man had started to walk off. "wait..! where are you going?".Holding onto his sleeve to keep him in place you then quickly covered your mouth in surprise at what you had just said. Shit, did you sound desperate just now?

"hm? aren't you coming?" oh. You're really in for it now.

SUGURU geto . ATSUMU miya . Trafalgar D Water LAW . OLIVER aiku . Kamisato AYATO . Osamu DAZAI . SATORU gojo . SHIDOU ryusei . Michael KAISER

#{-muxis writes #x reader #x y/n #headcanons #headcanon #oneshots #jjk x reader #haikyuu x reader #one piece x reader #blue lock x reader #genshin x reader #bsd x reader #suguru geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #trafalgar law x reader #oliver aiku x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #micheal kaiser x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #osamu dazai x reader #atsumu miya x reader #jjk headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #one piece headcanons #blue lock headcanons #genshin headcanons #bsd headcanons #this was in my drafts #tumblr fyp #gonna go hole myself up in hell now..

[whitecreekvalley-if]

[ Demo TBA ] • Character descriptions • Pinterest •

Genres: Slice of life, drama, mystery, romance

WCV is rated 18+ for explicit language, violence, alcohol and drug use, and explicit sexual content.

Life's taken a nosedive—no apartment, no job, no friends. Desperation pushes you to cling to a chance from a kindly stranger offering a ticket to a town hidden beyond mountains and plains, a place people don't seek but always seem to need.

Welcome to Whitecreek Valley, where the Brass Pine Ranch needs your unique skills to mend a crumbling homestead, and a crumbling family. As you tackle the decay of the ranch and the town alongside the rancher's son, deeper troubles emerge—livestock falling ill sparks fears of a town on the brink of extinction. Can you navigate this community, help them rejuvenate, or will it become another link in the list of ghost towns of America's Wikipedia page?

FEATURES

Customization: Appearance, personality, gender & sexuality, what job they had before, their hobbies, etc. Choose how they feel about being a farmhand, how they're adjusting to the rural life, and - with your choices - how the town as a whole sees them. Are they part of the community or an perpetual outsider?

Skills: Depending on your previous job, you'll have a unique set of skills to help the community. Choose to learn new skills, like woodworking, bronc riding, or sheep shearing, to mention a few.

Animal husbandry: The distances around Whitecreek Valley are hefty, so it's necessary to have at least a horse to get around. Choose your favorite out of a cast of individual equines, each with their own personalities. Also, help a calf into this world and realize how fun it is to raise a baby cow! As long as you're in good standing with the rest of the herd, of course.

Rebuilding: Try your best to rebuild the Brass Pine ranch, and the town adjacent. The better job you manage, the more opportunities (and challenges) come your way.

Community outreach: A dying town is still home, and there are stories to be heard, problems to solve. Lend a helping hand to your new community and see how one kindness can pay itself back.

Romance: Not everyone in town is adverse to strangers, and if your heart yearns romance, there is a chance for a spark along the way. Just be careful as to who you're trying to woo in front of whom. Small town gossips, we've all seen it.

Mystery: There's something hanging over the valley, like a rot in the air. Why are people moving out? Why are exports not moving out? And who's behind the animals getting sick? Don you detective hat and lend a hand to the entire four local police officers working the bizarre case.

THE LOCALS (RO'S)

THE RANCHER'S SON

Mason "Mace" Gannon - 27 - he/him

He used to be so much fun. I miss hanging out with him, out by the bonfires. He'd always make everyone feel so included and happy, and oh, that homemade cider he'd bring? Warmed us up on those chilly late fall nights, when we had nothing else to do. Did I tell you about the time he got us all to go skinny dipping? He was such a charmer, I wonder --

Imagine Mace as your human golden retriever – the guy who's a blast to be around, a bit mischievous, and the first to rush to your aid whenever you need it. After being gone for five years to live his rodeo dreams, he's back, now the sole caretaker of the family ranch in his hometown. He goes to great lengths to keep his personal issues personal, and it's the butt of many jokes how he's always there to help others but has the worst time asking for help himself.

He's you boss, and probably one of the best you'll ever get. Just don't pay mind to the spats between him and his dad.

THE BARTENDER

Alice Marks - 25 - she/her

Alice, she's a feisty one! Like her poppa, rest his soul. How I love the drinks she comes up with at the bar, and that horse of hers! She could go into rodeo, but I don't think after what happened with her pa... Oh, but she's a wonder! Always there with a quip, how they drive her suitors mad. Good thing she stopped with the talk about moving away, the town would be so dull without her!

Alice is the town's most known inhabitant, running the show from the only bar in town, which she just happens to own. Her mind is like a machine for fun, and she's the brain behind all the pop-up events and happenings around town. Sure, she can be a bit like a hurricane of enthusiasm, but hey, that's Alice for you. If the town had a social heartbeat, it'd be Alice – the vibrant, smartass soul making everyday life feel like a blessing.

THE DEPUTY

Word of the wise: Never challenge Alice to a drinking game. You will lose, spectacularly, and it'll all be on film.

Judge Gannon - 34 - he/him

Judge is a bit strange, don't you think? He just vanished as soon as he turned eighteen and popped back out of nowhere! That must've been, let's see... Five years ago? He doesn't spend much time with us commoners though, but I think I've seen him at the bar once or twice. I don't actually think he knows how to make nice with people, he always has that glower on. Gets it from his dad, let me tell you --

Bold and straight to the point, Judge isn't out here trying to be intimidating – it just kinda happens. If his brother is a golden retriever, he's definitely the doberman of the family. He's got this brash, no-nonsense vibe that some folks mistake for arrogance, especially when they try laying on the charm and he's not having it. He steers clear of small talk unless it involves his job, and when duty calls, he's more than ready to throw down to protect his town and county.

There's this local urban legend that he cracked a smile once, but it's like spotting a unicorn – not everyone's buying it.

THE LAWYER

Mercedes "Sadie" Diáz - 32 - she/her

The new girl, yes! Oh, a beauty! And so curious. I do love sitting down with her though, oh the stories she brings from the big city, so intriguing! I hear she finds our town intriguing too, the mayor once - don't tell anyone I told you this - the mayor once said he caught her breaking into the city hall archives! I know, scandalous, but good on her, maybe now someone will argue that my neighbors fence post --

Sadie, the big-shot lawyer from the city, doing her solo act in town. When she's not in court, folks are lining up just to get a piece of the urban tales she's got. A trailblazer and truth-seeker, she's got this knack for poking her nose where it probably shouldn't be, and surprise, she knows more local secrets than the town gossip. Sure, she's all passionate and calculated, a bit out of sync with the town's warmth, but hey, that logical mind of hers might just shake things up and get the town back on track.

It's a well known fact that she could get access to places with the right documents, but she herself has said it's more fun to pick locks. Go figure.

LIST OF MAJOR NPCs

LIST OF MINOR NPCs

#interactive fiction #wip #if wip #if: intro #cog #choice of games #interactive novel #choice script #or is it #choicescript #idk idk

[rinniessance]

BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE ༊*·˚ - leon kennedy x fem!reader x satoru gojo

leon kennedy has been announced mia after 24 hours of no contact. high brass doesn't care that you only came back from a mission a day prior, injured no less. when you're dispatched to spain, the last thing you expect is to get a special kind of rescue mission.

this is my entry for @rinhaler's gaming collab - MASTERLIST 🎮

꒰ warnings: nsfw - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ resident evil au. kind of following the plot of resident evil 4. aphrodysiac sex, unprotected sex, pet names (it's my staple <3), oral sex (f receiving), slight dacraphyllia, squirting, two dicks in one hole, cream pie. forgive me if i forgot any tags ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.8k ꒱ ꒰ notes: we love pure self-indulgence in this house .ᐟ.ᐟ tagging @mymegumi and @lilacliliess because they support my delusions about fucking two blue eyed men:3 ꒱

it’s been uneasy 24 hours in the D.O.S headquarters – ever since leon kennedy stopped responding to any attempts at communication, he’s been announced MIA this morning. given the sensitive mission of retrieving president’s daughter, the urgency to dispatch someone for another rescue is being pushed by the high brass, sending everyone on a search to find an agent capable enough of handling the job. as it turns out, out of dozens of people working in this forsaken organization, you’re the only one qualified.

“are you shitting me, hunnigan? i just came back from the mission last night. did you not see the stabbing wound?” for dramatic effect, you raise your t-shirt, showing freshly bandaged area where the deep cut resides. coming into the work this morning, the most stressful part of your day was expected to be the tons of paperwork you would’ve had to go through – yet as soon as you stepped into your office, you were greeted by leon’s handler, bearing the news from your superiors.

“sorry, you know it’s not up to me. whatever the president says goes.”

“are there literally no one else in this entire building who can be ordered to go instead?”

slumping over your desk, you put your head on top of your folded arms – it takes everything in you not to scream. your own mission was already problematic enough: bioweapon developers have become exceptional in making new B.O.Ws deadlier and deadlier, and knowing leon’s resume, there is a very high chance he was sent to deal with the worst of it.

“you’re one of the few partners kennedy has had while working for D.O.S. you know how he operates; it makes sense they are sending you.”

you know there is no point in arguing – if it’s been decided by the president, you have no choice but to go. it doesn’t mean, however, you can’t be irritated by the whole situation.

“do i at least get paid overtime?” you sign with exasperation, sulking deeper into your chair, hearing hunnigan let out a breathy chuckle.

“maybe if you bring golden boy’s ass back in one piece.”

“great. can i at least go home and make sure i didn’t leave the kettle on or something.”

“you’re not getting out of it, agent,” she says with a smile, and you can only groan. leon will be paying for all your meals for the next 6 months. “the helicopter is already waiting, actually, so you better gear your ass up and head to the helipad.”

“more amazing news.”

hunnigan only pats you on the shoulder – nothing she can say will make this situation suck any less – and leaves the room, letting you wallow in your misery.

“can you just fucking die already?” you yell in pure annoyance, trying to shoot the same person for the third time (you aren’t sure you can call these things human anymore). when the creature finally goes down, hopefully once and for all this time, the view in front of you is grotesque: hideous tentacle sprang out of the poor man’s head when you shot him between the eyes; it keeps moving, taunting you to waste more of your ammo. still holding onto your gun, you cautiously approach the body, slightly poking it with your boot – it doesn’t stir anymore. a sigh of relief escapes your lungs.

“just what the fuck is going on here,” you quietly mumble to yourself, looting any useful items nearby.

you arrived in spain this morning. surprisingly, leon made it easy enough to retrace his steps – he stopped by the local law enforcement which in turned let you know two of their men also went missing after they escorted kennedy to the area of interest. no one volunteered to come with you once you acquired the location of the small village somewhere north of here – apparently people have been going missing in the mountains for a while now – which was fine by you. everything you needed was the car you could use, and you were on your merry way.

in your 5 year long career as a government agent, the kind working in anti-bioweapon divisions, you’ve seen a multitude of… monsters, for lack of a better word. nothing could’ve prepared you for what you’ve witnessed when you arrived at your destination though: villagers turned into something sinister, creatures with no will of their own. you noticed it right away: their bulging veins pulsing with black viscous liquid, eyes shadowed with madness. what a surprise it was that when you finally started shooting them (hey, they started it), mandible-like limbs, shape closer to tentacles, with eyes growing out of them, erupted from their dead bodies, as if a swarm of crazy cultists wasn’t already enough.

you quickly glance at the still convulsing body on the ground, parasitic tendrils clinging onto their last living seconds; just looking at it makes you want to vomit. the smell of puss, heavy in the air, doesn’t help your desire to empty the insides of your stomach. you do not know what causes them to mutate, and you make a note to avoid any unknown substances – you also log a mental check not to get bitten by one of them (just in case).

after escaping a village, getting access to this stupid castle trying to find stupid stupid leon kennedy (you’re sure that what s. in leon s. kennedy stands for), you overheard some of the cultists talking about two prisoners on the basement level. leon and ashley? the goal now is to figure out how to get to the basement (and why does it always have to be the basement).

with careful precision, you finish analyzing the room you found yourself in – it’s a storage space of some kind, and nothing about it is particularly helpful to you. letting out a deep sigh, you sit down to re-collect your thoughts. wandering around this castle with no purpose will only stall you further – and time is something you do not have luxury of wasting.

just as you were about to get up from the chair, you knee bumps into something underneath the table. bingo. you quickly try to search for a keyhole or a puzzle piece to fit in to open the hidden compartment. but the gods are smiling down on you today – it only takes a simple click of a lock for the secret drawer to unlatch. before opening it, you stand to the side (the gunshot wound would mean deaths of all parties you’re trying to get out of here), and slowly push it forward with the knife.

“no way.”

the gods are smiling down on you– inside the drawer you don’t find a loaded shotgun, a poisonous smoke or anything else aimed at taking you out. instead, you find yourself looking at the map. something akin to relief makes your hands tremble as you unfold the treasured piece of paper, looking at the building blueprints, as fresh as if this was drawn yesterday.

tracing the way down to the basement level, you try to decide the easiest and shortest way. some of the rooms might require a key, deducting it’d be smarter to stick to the main rooms which are less likely to be locked. shoving the map back into your side bag, you reload the gun and slowly leave the room, looking for any signs of being followed. making sure the coast is clear, you start your way down.

leon, you better be still fucking alive.

leon wakes up from another torturous nap. he doesn’t know how long it’s been: could be 2 days, could be a week. to keep his sanity, he keeps trying to count the meals they bring them, figuring out the passage of time. why is salazar even feeding them? they’d worth more to him dead.

“good morning, sunshine.”

leon groans as soon as he hears the voice coming from his side. he doesn’t need to turn his head to know that satoru gojo is, despite the circumstances they found themselves in, still smiling.

“god, do you ever stop talking? they should starve you,” leon sighs heavily, and leans against the wall. his arms hurt – they have been cuffed to the ceiling this whole time, and the constant chatting from his unwanted companion makes this situation ten times worse.

“oh, common, don’t you have faith in your government? or you’re not important enough to rescue?”

“i might not be but the girl definitely is.”

it seems to shut satoru up, even if for a moment. his comments did make leon wonder if the headquarters organized the search party yet – more time they spent here means more time for the cult leaders to complete whatever it is they want with ashley. him and satoru have been infected with las plagas parasite too, their time is running short.

sighing deeply, gojo also slumps against the wall. both men can feel… whatever they were infected with moving inside their bodies, crawling their way into their brains. satoru is not sure what makes him and leon so special, but no signs of any infection have been visible yet. he wonders if it is a waiting game now: waiting for the moment they start losing their minds. what a sight that would be.

just as he was going to make another comment about their current predicament, both agents hear gunshots coming from the hallway, just outside the prison cells. blood curling screaming follows, rippling through the air, the unknown person emptying their clip into the guards until the room is engulfed in the oppressive silence.

to leon’s great surprise, and a great relief he must admit, it’s not a crazed guard running through the doors this time around – instead, two locked-up agents are met by your face. you hold your gun out, hand outstretched in front of you, ready to shoot the last remnants of the infected. it’s only when your gaze meets leon’s and you don’t identify any immediate danger, the gun is lowered, and you are rushing towards the cell.

“holy shit, it’s nice to see a familiar face,” leon cannot help but smile at the sight of you standing outside the cell bars, trying to break the lock.

“you won’t believe but the feeling is mutual. one too many mutated cultists, and even i started missing your ugly mug,” you throw back, returning his smile. your eyes move to gojo. “who’s that?”

“his partner.”

“no one.”

two men say that in unison, exchanging a heated glance afterwards.

“okaaaay,” you drawl out, “i don’t really care, you can bicker later. what we need to do it we need to get the fuck outta here like right now.”

you rush to uncuff the men with the keys you stole form the guards you shot earlier, and wait until they are able to push themselves on their feet.

“i am satoru gojo,” mysterious blond introduces himself properly, and extends his arm. you shake his hand and mumble your name back. you don’t know why but he makes you nervous.

“okay, all formalities for later. both of us are infected with that new plaga parasite, we need to extract it immediately,” leon interrupts the intense staring contest you entered with satoru, making you snap your attention back to him.

“well, then you’re in luck. i passed something that looked like a laboratory on the way here. it’s not too far either, only one floor up.”

“okay, great, no time to waste.”

kennedy steps out the room first, you and gojo following close behind. you’re on full alert – it doesn’t matter that you just took half of the castle down, somehow, new infected keep popping out like bunnies out of woodwork. it doesn’t take long the three of you to reach the desired destination, lab laying just behind the door straight off the stairs.

you cautiously look inside – no one seems to be here. after entering the room, you stand on guard while satoru and leon are looking for anything that might look like the cure. it seems that gods are smiling once again on you today because leon is able to find the last two vials of the vaccine sample. you have never seen him grinning so widely – it would’ve been almost heartwarming if not for the grim circumstances all of you ended up in.

before they can inject themselves with the medicine, the door swings opened and you’re thrown into the shelf, located on the opposite side of the entrance. multiple bottles with unknown substances fall on top of you, one of them breaking and infusing the air with a white powder. before you realize what happened, you inhale the mysterious concoction, immediately bursting into a coughing fit.

“fuck, are you okay?” leon yells your name somewhere from the side, and you try to wave him off. gojo is distracting whoever rammed through the doors, shooting the gun you presented him back in the prison cell. it takes exactly three more headshots for the mutated cultist to drop dead, and you’re pushing yourself off the ground and back on your feet. satoru is eyeing you suspiciously – you’re too busy brushing off your clothes and getting your breathing in order to notice.

“common, jab yourselves with the vaccine and let’s go, we have no time to lose,” you say with coarse voice. leon is also looking at you with worry but decides not to mention anything. both men inject themselves with the medicine, hoping and praying it’ll work, before rushing out of the doors and back on track to find ashley.

running through the corridors of the castle, you can feel yourself getting weaker – there is a sheer layer of sweat covering your spine, goosebumps are dancing on your skin, and a very familiar heat is pooling between your legs. your head feels heavy, you’re barely able to string two coherent thoughts together so you resort to slowly trailing after two men who haven’t stopped arguing about the next course of action.

“i don’t care what you came here for, satoru. i have my rescue mission that still needs to be completed,” leon sighs heavily as he pushes through the heavy doors into the next room.

“sure,” the other blond man quickly agrees, “but don’t you think you government would say ‘thank you’ if you helped securing the source of this outbreak?” gojo questions as he follows leon through the doors. you want to weigh your opinion in but before you can open your mouth, as you cross the threshold of the room, you trip on your own feets and send yourself flying towards the floor. the loud bang makes both men turn their attention back to you.

“god, are you okay?” leon’s by your side in mere seconds, supporting you by the elbow so you can get up. the waves of his body heat wash over you, and you want nothing more but to curl into his body and kiss the spot underneath his jaw. has he always been so handsome? you’re so concentrated looking at leon, you don’t notice satoru standing near you now. he touches your forehead, and it takes all of your willpower not to moan. fuck, his cold hands feel so nice on your feverish skin.

“shit, she’s burning up.”

“you think it’s because of whatever substance she inhaled back in the lab?”

“i don’t know, everything’s possible.”

two agents move you to sit on the table in the corner of the room – they can clearly see how foggy your eyes are, a layer of milky mist dancing across your vision – and leon’s fingers find your pulse point. this time, you are not fast enough to stifle the low whine that escapes your lips. at any other time, you’d be dying of embarrassment but now your body is begging for release, and you’re ready to do anything to get it. anything to soothe the ache building up in your throbbing clit.

“’m so hot…” you mumble as you start taking off tactical t-shirt, baring your sports bra to the two men in the room. “and it really hurts.”

satoru and leon look at each other before they look at you – kennedy will have to work with you in the future so he’s really trying not to look at your perky nipple, shape visible through the fabric, unlike gojo, who’s taking in your current condition with almost sick satisfaction.

“where does it hurt?” satoru asks before leon is able to butt in. as if wanting to confirm his suspicion, you take his hand and guide it to your sex, cupping it.

“here.”

leon is not even able to react before gojo is lunging forward and capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, making your head bang slightly against the wall. you let yourself moan into his mouth, satoru greedily claiming all the sounds to himself. it’s not nearly enough to pacify your accelerated heartbeat, but it’s still making you shudder. you’re spreading your legs to accommodate gojo’s tall frame – but before he is able to move any closer, he is thrown back by leon; loss of his warmth makes you whine.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” kennedy hisses through his teeth, moving away from you and towards gojo.

“what does it look like? don’t pretend like you don’t know this is exactly what she needs right now,” satoru spits back. you think they continue arguing but their voices are being drowned out by the ringing in your ears. heat spreading through you sets everything on fire, and your pants join your t-shirt somewhere on the floor in your desperate attempt to relieve yourself of this scorching feeling. your partner notices it and sharply turns to face you.

“what the hell are you doi-” before leon can finish his sentence, you wrap you legs around him and press your body into his.

“leon, please…” you sob, hot tears pooling in the corners of your eyes, beads of salty water wetting your eyelashes and blurring your vision. hearing your pathetic plea, voice thick with lust and desire, looking at your tears-stained face, mouth slightly agape, and watching your lips, red and messy from satoru’s kiss, glistening in the moonlight – everything about you now screams ruin me and leon is not a strong enough man to resist it.

“what are you asking me to do, sweetheart?” he whispers against your lips in a teasing tone. his switch is almost jarring but you don’t have the brain capacity to mull over his sudden mood change. he moves his hand between your legs now, touching your pussy through your panties. leon’s fleeting touch is sending shivers down your spine, and you culr yourself into him more, whining and panting against his mouth. “jesus, she’s so fucking wet already.”

“i told you, didn’t i? she needs someone to stuff her full of cum,” satoru’s dirty talk comes somewhere from the side. too distracted by leon’s deep blue eyes, gojo’s touch makes you tremble in surprise and turn your head towards him. looking at his face, you’re met by baby blues – it felt like being thrown from the ocean into the endless skies. you think men with blue eyes will be the death of you.

gojo leans down to capture your lips again, re-exploring the sacred geometry of your kiss, while leon is planting wet kisses along your jawline. you mewl in euphoric pleasure, their touches soothing to your burning skin, and you’re completely giving yourself away to the bliss rolling over you in waves. leon’s digits are teasing your clit through the fabric of your panties, and your hips instinctively buck into his hand, making him chuckle into your neck.

“she’s dripping, gojo. i bet she can take both of us unprepped,” leon says to the other agent, still busy with sucking on your lips, invading your mouth with his tongue. at his words, you shiver under men’s bodies, tingling sensation rushing through you.

“i want you in my lap, pretty girl,” satoru whispers against your lips, and you jump off into leon’s arms so the other man can sit on the table first. you move to climb on top of gojo, legs on either side of his thighs, ready to ride him, but your partner’s strong arm stops you from turning around.

“nah-ah, let him hold you spread open for me, i want to taste you first,” leon breathes against your ear, teasing the sensitive spot, making you quiver in his hold. you turn yourself towards gojo and see him grinning as he beckons you with two fingers to come closer. when you end up in his arms, he spins you around, his chest to your back, and makes you sit between his legs on the table, opening you up.

satoru’s masterful fingers unclasp your bra with ease while leon makes a quick work of your panties, shoving them into his pocket, unbeknownst to you. who knows how your relationship will work out after this – he needs something to remember this moment by. you are now sprawled completely naked for the two men’s hungry gazes: your cheeks are flushed, mouth shaped into a perfect “o”, short breaths escaping your lungs – you are truly a sight to behold. gojo wastes no time in cupping your breasts with his hands, trailing his lips on the side of your neck, sucking in hickeys as part of his claim.

kennedy gets on his knees in front of you, looking up into your eyes. gojo’s fingers are playing with your hardened nipple, making your hips buck upwards – right into leon’s mouth. his first languid swipe of the tongue comes just as satoru pinches your sensitive nubs, and you cannot help the pornographic moan escaping your lips.

“jesus, doll, who knew you’d sound so pretty,” it’s gojo’s voice against the shell of your ear, making you shudder. one of his hands keeps massaging your boob, twisting the nipple between his digits, while his other hand goes all the way down and spreads your folds for leon’s easy access. he hums in appreciation, and starts flicking his tongue up and down, drawing tight circles on your clit, sucking on it when he feels your legs tighten around his head.

agent’s movements make you squirm in satoru’s hold, dropping your head against his shoulder as leon continues eating you out. you’re absolutely incoherent now – your fever never dropped so your muscles are aching, toes curling in anticipation of the long awaited release, as you continue moaning through quick breaths.

“finger her.”

leon follows gojo’s command immediately, shoving his middle digit inside, while still lapping at your pussy. your walls clench against him almost instinctively, intrusion sudden but not unwelcome – he groans feeling the embracing heat of your cunt.

“fuck, she’s so fucking tight.”

gojo keeps your legs spread, you trying to close them around leon’s head as he keeps up his assault with his tongue. he’s nibbling on your clit, putting extra pressure with the tip of his tongue, licking it back and forth in quick succession, before flatting it to lick between your sticky folds, all the way down to the drooling hole. leon adds a second finger now, setting up a merciless pace – he is curling his digits in a heavenly way, able to hit the soft, spongy spot inside that makes you see stars and your pussy throb; you gasp loudly.

“i wish we had a phone to record this. you look so divine.”

you clench at gojo’s words, making leon groan. he’s now playing with your tits, rolling your nipple, tugging at them to add the painful sensation to the lit-up nerves. your desperate moans are bouncing among the walls, and gojo decides he wants to hear the squelching sounds of your pussy around leon’s fingers and his tongue’s wet sounds as he sloppily eats you out so he shuts you up with a kiss.

you feel your tummy begins tensing up as two men continue their ministrations: it’s satoru’s hot mouth on yours and his hands squeezing your tits, fingers playing with erect nipples; it’s leon’s tongue lapping at your pussy, precise circles on your clit and his digits scissoring you at a perfect speed, hitting the nerve bundle that rushes to send you over the end. your legs start shaking and you grab onto satoru’s arm around you to ground yourself.

“nnggh-…” you whimper into gojo’s mouth, and he finally lets you catch a breath. “’m so close,” you sob again, “’m gonna cum.”

“yeah, you want to cream all over agent kennedy’s face?” satoru taunts you from behind. “that’s so unprofessional,” he makes a tsk sound with his mouth and squeezes your cheeks to look at him.

“we’re feeling generous today, i think,” he quickly throws a glance down at leon, who only smirks as his tongue keeps licking and sucking at your clit. satoru looks you straight in the eyes as he slowly drawls his next words, “you may cum.”

the orgasm washed over you in glorious waves, rattling your entire existence. you’re scrunching your eyebrows, mouth agape with a sinful moan, as your thighs clasp around leon’s head. you’re quivering in gojo’s hold, his hands forcing your hips down, pressing them more against kennedy’s face. the latter doesn’t stop his onslaught, lips suctioning around the throbbing pearl, fingers still curled at earth-shattering angle. you try to move away but neither man lets you.

“uh-uh, where are you trying to run away? let him drink everything.”

and everything does leon kennedy drink – agent is lapping at your juices like a kitten at a fresh bowl of milk, now substituting his digits with his tongue as he keeps fucking in and out of your needy cunt. ministrations don’t stop, not even when your moans turn into little sobs as your body starts feeling overstimulated. your puffy clit is now ruined from satoru’s finger pads playing with it.

both men can feel your form shaking almost violently, gojo’s gathering your falling tears with his tongue. leon’s finally pulling his face away from your sex, standing up to look at your ruined state.

“god, i only ate her out and she already looks fucked out,” he chuckles to the other blond man, and moves to stand between your legs.

“let me taste her,” before you can react, gojo’s grabbing leon by the back of his head and capturing his lips in a heated kiss. trapped between a rock and a hard place, you can do nothing but observe the most passionate display of carnage you’ve ever witnessed – they were slobbering over each other’s faces, and it made your pussy clench around nothing. god, you can’t wait to fuck them both.

“she’s sweet, just how i like them,” satoru smirks against leon’s lips, turning his attention back to you immediately. “common, princess, you’re going to have to ride me if you want both of us.”

you’re quickly climbing on the table, straddling him. kennedy situates himself right behind you, warmth radiating off him like in suffocating waves. you’re trying to unbuckle satoru’s jeans to free his heavy cock, still trapped in confines of his boxer briefs, but leon smacks your ass, sending you forward into gojo’s embrace. it stings, the outline of his hand already forming a bruise, and you’d be mad if you pussy lips didn’t flutter at the slap.

“you’re taking too long, sweetheart,” you hear satoru, both men undoing their belts and zippers before you can, pulling out their leaking cocks. from your position you could only see satoru’s hard dick as he stroked himself near your aching hole, but what you’ve seen was enough to make you almost scared – gojo’s dick was long and blessed with a perfect curve, just upwards, one thick vein running prominently from the bottom of his shaft ending just before his mushroom head. you’re sure leon’s looked just as pretty.

“you haven’t said a word. you wanna ask nicely for what you want?” you hear leon behind you as he’s pushing you forward again, right into satoru’s chest, and teasing your waiting cunt with his thick tip – the mixture of his spit, your slick and his precum is dripping down satoru’s cock from where he’s positioned just underneath you, and the messiness of it all makes leon groan.

“please, i want your cocks inside me… please,” you sob out again, vocal cords heavy with tears.

“i think this will be our reward for saving us, how about that, huh?” there is a teasing tilt in satoru’s voice, and you grab at his shoulders, mewling like a needy animal in heat.

“yes, yes, anything,” you’re blabbering with teary voice, making men hard at the mere image of you: a capable agent reduced to a cock-drunk slut, an image that makes their cocks twitch.

leon grabs gojo’s member, giving it a couple strokes, surprising the white-haired man but hearing no complaints. his thumb is playing with the drooling slit of his tip, beads of pre-cum decorating the entrance to his flushed dick, and kennedy can’t help but smirk at how blissed out satoru looks. he’s guiding his heavy and red cock inside you, while his other hand rests on your waist. gojo’s forcing your hips down while bucking his up, and he fills you up in one long thrust.

“ah!” you cry out, biting your lip to the blood, metallic taste in your mouth almost overwhelming on top of the mix of pain and pleasure burning through your body. you’re whimpering into satoru’s mouth, while his hand is running soothing circles on your back.

“here you go, such a good fucking girl. taking me in so well, huh? all it took is one thrust, so perfect,” he’s blabbering against your skin as he starts sinking in and out of your sloppy hole. looking down, you can see the bulge in your tummy, and it makes you purr – you not only feel him splitting you in two, you are able to witness it. his reddened tip is meeting your cervix in a bruising kiss, and god, he’s making you fell so good.

you’re so lost in the rapturous sensation of gojo’s huge cock pushing against your gummy walls, you don’t notice leon’s presence behind you – he is grabbing your hips with one hand while his other is jerking his dick, prepping himself to enter you. his tip is near your whole when you finally realize what’s he’s trying to do.

“no! no, it’s too mu- ah!” he doesn’t let you finish before he start pushing himself inside, sliding alongside satoru’s heavy member, making the man grunt.

“fuck, feels so tight and warm,” you hear behind you as kennedy sets a punishing pace, sheathing himself into your abused hole. they are stretching you out to heavens, leon looking at your gaping cunt with pride. it’s fluttering and clenching around their huge cocks, your walls spasming in pleasure as their lengths are grinding against your soft spots. you can hear your pussy queefing, and the filthy sounds of skin slapping against skin add to the dirty symphony.

“ngg, ngg- feels so, so goo-” you’re unable to finish your sentence as they keep bouncing you on their cocks, manhandling your body however they seem fit. you’ve never felt so full – both men keep drilling into you, like you’re no more than their little personal toy to play with. satoru grabs you by the back of your neck, biting at your lips, sloppily making out with you, while leon grabs your hair, forcing you back on his dick.

you can feel both cocks twitching inside you, approaching climax evident by their shallow breathing, moans hitching at every thrust of the hips. your walls are tightening around their cocks, and men’s whimpering and groaning is sinful to listen to, yet they are determined to make you climax first.

“common, gorgeous, cum around our cocks,” gojo hoaxes from underneath you. leon pushes your hips even closer into satoru’s body, your clit now grinding against his pubic bone, and it’s making you teeter on the edge of your bliss.

your bladder feels pressure you’ve never experienced before as gojo’s cock pressing against it from a perfect angle. leon is digging his fingers into the plush skin of your ass, rutting in and out of you, pushing against your back walls. all of your nerves are on fire, exploding fireworks in your brain, sending all your pleasure receptors into the overdrive. as your second orgasm washes over you, you’re left trembling in the men’s arms, leon’s chest against your back, your sweaty tits against satoru’s broad front.

“that’s a good girl, look at how cock-drunk you are,” you can hear them chuckle between themselves, not slowing down for a second. leon can see the white creamy ring enveloping the base of his cock in a soft embrace – it’s making him lose last of his slipping composure as he starts thrusting extra hard, thus speeding gojo up.

you bounce like a rag doll on top of gojo, having no semblance of control, being completely used by two agents. the pressure in your bladder comes back, and you throw your head back – your body continues quivering uncontrollably as you start sobbing again, tears drawing salty rivers on your cheeks, result of your body riding into stimulation. before you know it, something warm and so fucking wet starts gushing out of you. you want to look down, but men react first by groaning, voice impossibly thick with lust and awe.

“fuck, baby, didn’t expect you to squirt this much. so fucking filthy, i bet you waited to do this the whole time,” gojo grunts from underneath you, and you can only purr in response. it only takes couple more thrusts before leon and satoru synchronize their orgasms, shooting the ribbons of cum inside your womb, painting it pearly white, fucking it in warm and cozy. the squelching sounds ricocheting among the walls are nothing but sinful, and your cheeks flush red from the realization of what just transpired.

as both men pull out of your abused, stretched out hole, the combined mixture of all the fluids trickle down your thighs, making you groan in disgust. now that aphrodisiac has been fucked out from your system, you can’t even bring yourself to look them in the eyes. you hurry to pick up your clothes, but your legs give out underneath you – you’d end up flat on your ass, if not for leon who caught you mid fall.

tension in the air is palpable, electricity dancing on your skin is able to set everything on fire again. you’re ready to break the silence when satoru speaks first.

“you know, kennedy, next time you want to touch my cock, you don’t need to bring a woman between us.”

he leaves the room before either of you are able to force a reaction, and you wish you’d left both of them for dead instead.

© rinniessance do not steal, plagiarize or translate my works. do not recommend me on tiktok, thank you

#꒰ྀི penned by ange ꒱ྀི #gojo smut #jjk smut #leon kennedy smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #leon kennedy x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #leon kennedy x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #leon kennedy x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #re smut

[m-ayo-o]

pillow princess

18+ lil bondage, fingers, sex. f!reader x 21+ megumi wc .8k

After another busy day at work you start to unwind with a little yoga and stretching in your bedroom. 

You have an active job, so you have to do it regardless of how much your brooding boyfriend is staring.

He lies on the bed, watching your body bend and fold into numerous positions; you touch your toes... next, is that one called downward dog? He doesn't know. All he knows right now is that he'd love to pull off those leggings and give your ass a slap.

"Megumi?"

He's been staring too long.

"Do you mind?"

"No." He doesn't skip a beat, with that flirty tone coming through.

"Tch-" you roll your eyes and move into the next position; cat and cow.

Now she's just doing it on purpose.

He watches your back arch, then dip into a deep curve, pushing out your chest and ass.

"Are you sure that's yoga, princess?"

You crook an eyebrow.

"Think your instructor might be a perv."

"Yeah, well I think your mind is in the gutters," you bite back, but continue your motions.

He tries to focus on the book in his lap, skimming the same paragraph over and over as his eyes keep getting distracted by your figure.

He could just slip his fingers down the tight material of your leggings, right into that cute pussy. He can basically see the outline of you from the bed. He'd love to get a little closer and shove his face right between your thighs and-

Oh, what is she doing now? 

He gets excited, watching you climb onto the bed, lying flat on your stomach.

You bring your heels to your bum, circle your hands around your ankles and pull. This is a great stretch for your chest and quads- you sigh dramatically, feeling the relief.

"Ahhh"

You feel Megumi get off the bed.

You suddenly feel very exposed, with your cheek pushed into the mattress and your legs spread. 

"Princess," you hear him behind you, then feel him pulling your knees so your lower half is facing him, where he stands at the end of the bed.

She must be doing this to tease me now. 

You hear him open a drawer, then feel the familiar soft loops of rope being placed around your wrists and ankles.

"Megumi??" 

"Stay still."

He makes you keep a firm grip on your ankles and finishes his work quickly.

"You seriously think you can stretch like that... in front of me?"

He knows you find this position a little intimidating, so you don't do it that often. But you remember now how much he loves it; how much it drives him crazy.

You lose complete control like this, and the way he can get you feeling goes beyond simple pleasure... it's almost like you enter a whole new world.

A world of endless orgasms, reached only by the stroking, scissoring motions of his magical fingers, paying attention to your messy hole and puffy clit.

"You asked for this."

He mutters and feels you clench around his digits again.

You sometimes forget that he's a powerful sorcerer who often deals death with these same hands that are now torturing and pleasuring you beyond belief.

"M-megumi-" 

But by the time the sheets are soaked and your mascara has dripped down your cheeks, you're close to forgetting your own name.

"C-can't, can't take any- ah- more"

"You can and you will, pretty girl."

He hums with content- watching you lose your mind has to be one of his favourite pass times.

But now he's given himself a massive erection that he just has to fuck away.

So he unties you and rips your leggings all the way off, followed by his shorts. 

Then you feel him sit on you, mounting you with his cock slapping at your ass.

"Mmmmegummiii~" 

Aww, she's gone all stupid.

He watches you try to hump his cock, loving those needy little movements of your hips.

"Baby why don't you just stay still and let me fuck you, ok?"

He presses on your back. He doesn't have to ask twice.

He pushes himself in with a single thrust.

"You know I'll do it better."

You nod and moan, feeling him grip at your hair now.

"Isn't that how it's supposed to be? With you lying there and taking it?"

"Mmhhmhhh-" 

"Gotta let me use you- ah, gotta let me fuck you, like a good girl. Yeah, you rest your pretty head and let me take care of your body. Does it feel good?" 

His voice sounds softer now, and is laced with pure adoration.

"You're my- pillow princess."

Past the delirium of buzzing and pulsing hormones, you know he's doing this because he loves you. He wants you to totally relax, to take your busy mind off work and anything else you've been worried about.

And he always does it just right, fucking you till you can't think anymore. 

He arches over your body now, interlacing your fingers and pressing kisses to your cheek.

"You're... mine."

He whispers in your ear, over and over, squeezing you tighter and kissing you harder till your bodies are spent.

promise i'll do more emoji event stuff soon heh. also this stretch is rly good idk just try it

megumi | m.list

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #female reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #18+ content

[unsolved-duvall]

Hi! Could you do an Eddie Munson X reader where it’s readers first time and nervous but Eddie is gentle?

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

hi my love! thank you so much for the request, i hope this is okay <3

warnings 18+ only fem!reader, virgin!reader, smut, fluff, gentle eddie, heavy kissing, oral (fem receiving), fingering, protected sex, praise kink, hair pulling, reader cries during sex (she’s overwhelmed, but it’s all good i promise!), aftercare, i think that's it but if i've missed anything please (politely) let me know! i'm so sorry if there are spelling or grammar errors, it's five in the morning and i've just finished this <3

The trailer always felt uncomfortably quiet when it was just you there. You had been resistant at first, when Eddie had given you a key and told you to treat it like your own home. You didn't want to intrude on his and Wayne's space. But he had promised you that when he had asked Wayne if it was okay for you to have a key, he had only told Eddie that he thought you already had one, expected you to. He had always treated you like his own, and you were so grateful for that.

So there you were, sat on the couch, it was comfortable and it had started to feel like home. Orange lights flickering from the lamps you had turned on around the room; you never put on the big light.

The sounds from the television reverberated around the trailer, some old tv show was on, but you weren't paying any attention to it. You had only turned it on in a futile attempt to try and distract yourself, to calm yourself down and stop your mind from racing a million miles an hour.

Eddie would be home in twenty minutes, give or take. Sometimes he got carried away with a last-minute job at the garage. Other times he was home at six o'clock on the dot. Desperate to see you.

You and Eddie had been dating for a while now and you'd honestly never been happier.

Except you hadn't had sex yet. Ever.

Eddie didn't know you were a virgin. He had never pushed you to go further than you felt comfortable with. You would touch each other, over your clothes, of course. You had definitely had some pretty needy makeout sessions on his bed, all soft whimpers and needy hands. But you had never gone further than that. You had always made some excuse up to stop, telling him that you were tired or needed to go home. He would never question you, but you could tell he was starting to be confused by your actions. You would kiss him desperately, your hips grinding down into his as he held you on his lap on the couch. He could feel how needy you were, could hear your fast breaths and small moans that you couldn't hold back whenever his tongue would run over yours. But still, you never went further than that.

Of course, Eddie would never push you. He assumed you just wanted to wait and he was okay with that. Fuck, if all he could do was kiss you forever he thought he would be okay with that too.

But you didn't want that. You wanted more. You wanted to sleep with him, more than anything. It consumed your mind twenty four hours a day, it truly was all you could think about. How he would feel, how he would hold you, how he would sound. Fuck.

But you had never done anything like that before. You were so worried you would be bad at it, that you wouldn't know what to do and Eddie would get bored of you.

You knew Eddie had slept with a couple of people before, not many, but he definitely had experience. You didn't know if that made you feel better or worse.

Just as your thoughts started to overwhelm you, the front door swung open. You knew it was Eddie just from his footsteps.

You turned your head and were met with that sickly-sweet smile he gave you whenever he got home.

"Hey baby" Eddie walked over to you, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before he turned to go and change out of his work clothes.

Fuck. Okay.

Your feet were carrying you into his bedroom before you realised what you were doing, coming to lean in his doorway as you watched him pull on an old t-shirt and pyjama bottoms. You hadn't said anything as you had followed him, quite frankly you weren't sure he had even realised you had followed him.

"Can I talk to you?" You blurted out, making even yourself jump.

Eddie tensed up as he realised you were standing behind him, quickly relaxing again when he met your eyes.

"Yeah sweetheart, 'course. Is everything okay?" worry was etched onto his face, you were never this serious and dour looking.

When you didn't answer he gently took hold of your hand and led you over to his bed, sitting both of you down. You crossed your legs and pulled your hands into your body, fiddling with your fingers as you tried to find the right words.

Eddie's eyes darted down to your hands and saw how restless you were; you only did that when you really nervous, he had come to learn. He held both of your hands in between one of his in an attempt to calm you as much as he could. He didn't say anything, he knew you would speak when you were ready.

"I, uh- well do you know how we've never... I mean we've done some things, um-" You were blabbering, you didn't know why you were so nervous, it was just Eddie.

"Take a breath, it's okay." Eddie;s soft voice pulled down that wall of anxiety you had built around yourself.

"We've never had sex" the words left your mouth before you had even registered them. Your mouth dropped open and you tried to pull yourself away from him out of embarrassment, but he wouldn't let you. His thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand.

"I know." was all he said. He was slowly putting the pieces together. Your nerves, the way you were holding his hands a bit tighter than normal, the way you couldn't sit still. He was almost sure he knew where you were going with this, but he didn't want to assume, so he waited for you to say more.

"Do you want to?" you asked him, looking away from him, your eyes landing on the wall behind his head.

"I, well-" it was Eddie's turn to be flustered now. Because, of course he did. But he didn't know quite how to say that without sounding incredibly desperate. He was trying to keep his cool here. It was a losing battle.

He saw the anxiety flood your face, he could see how unsure you looked. He would do anything to get rid of that look.

"Sweetheart. Of course I do. I love you. But I don't want to if you don't want to."

"I want to." There was no holding back anymore, it was like the flood gates had opened and you needed to feel him. But you knew you needed to tell him one other thing before you both got carried away.

"I've never done this before." You breathed out, your eyes meeting his. "Ever. This would be my first, uh my first time."

"You're a virgin?" Eddie asked you, he couldn't hold back the slight surprise that laced his words and spread across his face.

"I'm sorry." you said. You weren't sure why, but you felt like you needed to.

Eddie pulled back a bit, his eyes scanning your face, "Baby you don't need to apologise for that, why would you say sorry?" he was genuinely confused. Did he think that you thought he wouldn't want to sleep with you because you were a virgin?

"I don't know what I'm doing," your voice came out small and timid. You had never heard yourself sound like that before. "It probably won't be very good for you, Eddie"

"Baby, first of all. This is you we're talking about. If you haven't already noticed I'm kind of ridiculously in love with you. You only have to kiss me and I fall apart," you can't help but laugh at his words, a small blush spreading across your cheeks as he pulls you closer to him.

"So please don't think for a second that sleeping with you could ever be bad." he held your hips and tapped them gently, signalling for you to sit across his lap, your legs on either side of his, as he rubbed a comforting hand up and down your back.

"Secondly, if you really want to do this. Then I promise you, it will all be on your terms okay? I won't do anything unless you tell me I can. This is all about you, yeah?" Eddie's voice had dropped a few octaves, you didn't know if he was doing it on purpose or if he was just trying to calm himself down. You could feel him beneath you, sitting on his lap didn't leave much to the imagination.

"Okay." You whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want to do this with you, Eddie. Tonight. Now."

"Fuck, okay." Eddie lifted a hand to push your hair off your warm face, he let his hand rest on your cheek for a bit, his thumb rubbing underneath your eye, comforting you.

You couldn't wait any longer, and you had a feeling Eddie wasn't going to do anything until you made the first move. So you leant in, your lips barely brushing over his as you closed your eyes.

"I got you." was all Eddie said before he was kissing you like his life depended on it. It was slow and soft and deep and it felt like you had just taken your first breath.

You had kissed before, but there was something debilitating about this one. The promise it held, the knowledge that this was all building up to more. Eddie let his tongue run over you bottom lip, eliciting a soft whine from you as you opened for him. His tongue running over yours as the kiss deepened.

His hands were hesitant. One was resting on your hip, and the other was holding the back of your head, keeping you flush against him. But you needed more.

"Eddie," you breathed out, breathing the words against his lips.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"You can touch me, it's okay."

"Yeah? Can you lie down for me, is that okay? Or do you wanna stay like this?" Eddie asked you, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes heavy with want.

"I wanna lie down, yeah." you told him quietly. He moved you both gently so that you were lying pressed against the soft mattress beneath you. You moved your legs so he could lay in between them, he breathed out an almost silent thank you at your movements.

Neither of you wanted to break the comfortable quietness that was filling his bedroom. The sounds of your breathing and movements were more than enough.

Eddie leant down to press his lips against yours again, the kiss still as slow and deep as the first one. Your hands moved to rest in his hair, your fingers tangling in the curls he never brushed out on a work day. His weight rested on his forearms, but he used one hand to rest on your cheek. Your entire being was filled with Eddie. His tongue in your mouth, his hand on your body. It was all just Eddie Eddie Eddie.

Time didn't exist when Eddie had you pinned against the mattress. You might have been kissing for two minutes or two hours; you had no way of knowing. Not when he had managed to find his way into every part of you; his kiss running through your veins, filling your lungs as you breathed him in.

He made sure to hold his weight off of you, but still, it was all consuming. His hair fell around your faces and you couldn't imagine doing anything else but this for the rest of your life.

But that need grew deeper and you subconsciously moved one of your legs to wrap it around Eddie's waist. Pulling him tighter against you. That, mixed with your moans that you were not letting flow freely from you, was a silent plea for him to give you more.

That was all Eddie had been waiting for. He needed you to need him, not just want him.

He reluctantly pulled away from kissing you, his lips trailing down your jaw and landing on your neck. You craned your head back, pressing it further into the pillow that Eddie had somehow got underneath your head when he lay you down.

He pressed soft kisses on your neck, he wasn't trying to mark you. Not tonight, not unless you explicitly asked him to. Tonight he was determined to be as gentle and tender with you as possible. He needed you to feel safe with him. It was the least he could do, you were being as vulnerable as you could be with another human being, and he respected that.

He honestly couldn't wrap his head around the fact that he was lucky enough to be with you in this way. Your soft skin under his fingertips and your small whimpers in his ears, this was as close to heaven as he was sure he was ever going to get.

Eddie pulled his head from your neck and saw your blissed out face, how your eyes were softly shut and your eyelashes fluttered against your cheek.

He moved his hands down to rest on the waistband of the pyjama pants you had on.

They were his.

You felt his fingertips at your waist and you opened your eyes to watch him.

"Can I take these off, angel?" Eddie breathed. Placing a small kiss on your stomach, just above where the waistband sat.

You nodded your head in a deafening confirmation. "Nuh-uh sweetheart, I need you to use your words for me, okay?" Eddie looked up at you from where he lay between your legs. The sight alone was enough to send your heart racing.

"You can take them off," you responded, "please take them off." almost begging as your voice cracked with every word. You didn't realise how desperate you were until you were so close to having what you needed.

"That's my girl, thank you." Eddie said, his calloused fingers moving to go underneath the waistband of your his pyjama pants. He moved them down, pulling them over your hips and down your thighs. Every movement was slow, soft, calculated.

All intended to have you desperate and whining underneath him by the end of it.

Before you had time to register it, legs were bare and Eddie was kissing them. Small, barely there kisses, intended only to relax you when he felt you tense up under his gaze.

You didn't know what to do with your hands. They lay limp beside you. You didn't know what you were meant to be doing. Were you meant to touch him? Move your hips for him to take your underwear off? Pull him up to kiss him again? You didn't know-

"Hey, sweetheart, look at me." Eddie's stern but loving voice pulled you out of the onslaught of insecurity that threatened to take over. Your breathing had sped up, he had noticed that, but not because of him.

"We can stop if you want to, okay? We don't have to do this if you've changed your mind, that's okay. We can talk more about this more before we do anything else. I can kiss you some more, or I can leave you alone, if that's what you want. I just need you to tell me, okay love? Just tell me what you need me to do."

You didn't know what to say, or do, or think, or feel. You were overwhelmed, but in a good way. Eddie had barely touched you and this was already more than you could have asked for it to be.

You felt the bed move beside you, Eddie was about to move off of you. You realised you hadn't said anything to him, and he had probably taken that to mean that you wanted to stop. You grabbed his arm and he paused his movements, not yet lowering himself back over you, but not moving further away either.

"I don't want to stop. I just- fuck, I don't know." you had never been good with words, Eddie knew that, it was why he was so patient with you. It wasn't that you didn't know what you wanted to say, it was that you couldn't say it.

"I'm just nervous." Eddie's eyes softened at your vulnerability.

"But I want this, I want you. I just need you to tell me what to do, show me. I don't want to make all the moves here, please, I need you to do that."

You saw the hesitancy that hit Eddie at hearing your confession, he didn't want you to feel like you didn't have any control in this situation.

"I know, I know that you want me to tell you what's okay and what's not but- Eddie, everything is okay. Touch me, kiss me, I don't care. I'm doing this with you because I love you."

Both of your hearts were racing. Eddie had never heard you so certain, he had never heard you speak so confidently. There was still a shake to your voice, it was still quiet and vulnerable. But he knew you meant every word, he knew how hard it was for you to be so open with him. It made his heart break and repair itself all in one go.

"I trust you and I need you to trust me when I tell you that I will tell you if you do something I don't like, or don't feel comfortable with. But please, I'm begging you, please fuck me, I've waited so long." A breathy laugh laced your last words, you couldn't quite tell if you were laughing out of relief or nervousness, but either way.

You felt okay. You felt good. You felt like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

"Okay." Eddie leant back down and kissed you. It was quick, his tongue barely passing yours, but it was enough. It sent your heart racing again, because of Eddie. His taste lingering on your tongue as he lowered himself down your body until he was lay with his head resting on your thigh, his hands on your waist.

"Can I touch touch you here, angel?" Eddie asked despite what you had just told him, his fingers lightly grazing your cunt still covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You went to nod your head but then Eddie's earlier words echoed in your mind, "Yeah you can touch me." you moaned out, a small kiss he placed on your inner thigh causing your fingers to grasp the blanket beneath you.

"Good girl." Eddie praised you, it was quiet, almost as if he was uncertain at what your reaction would be. But when he saw your breath hitch he smirked, he knew you liked that shit. He just knew it.

Eddie ran his fingers over your slit, your wetness had practically drenched your underwear. If Eddie wanted to, he didn't say anything about it. Instead he just slowly moved his fingers along you, so gentle that if you weren't so worked up you barely would have felt it.

But you did. You could feel everything. His hands on you, his breath on your cunt, his hair that fell over your thigh.

Eddie went to move your underwear, but before he pulled it off you he looked up at you once more, a silent question hung in the air between you.

You nodded, and Eddie kept looking at you as his fingers slid underneath your underwear and he pulled them off you, throwing them somewhere behind him. You suddenly felt incredibly exposed, you closed your legs in reflex. Eddie wasn't having that.

"Open your legs for me, baby. It's just me, I promise you're okay."

Eddie could ask you to jump off a cliff in that voice and you would say yes. Your legs fell open slowly, your head turned to the side to hide in the pillow under you.

"Fuck sweets, you're fucking perfect." Eddie sounded wrecked. His voice hoarse and breaking at the final word.

"I'm gonna touch you now, okay? You tell me if something hurts, or you don't like it."

"Okay," you managed to get the word out, hardly.

Eddie finally ran his fingers through you. Gathering your wetness between them and moving his fingers up to that sweet spot between your legs; it took him a second to find it, but when he did your hips bucked up and the sweetest moan fell from your open mouth.

"Yeah? That felt good, huh sweetheart?" Eddie kept working his fingers against you, occasionally dropping them back down and running them over your slit, never dipping them into you just yet.

He pressed soft, slow circles over your clit, his fingers pulling obscene sounds from you, you tried to hold them back, moving a hand to muffle the noises you were making. "No baby, let me hear you." was all Eddie had said before you dropped your hand and lost yourself in the new sensations.

You had touched yourself before, but it had never felt like this. When you did it, it always felt rushed, like you were racing towards the finish line, and when you got there it was never as good as everyone else seemed to say it was. But not with Eddie.

You were getting desperate. Eddie was leaning over you and his fingers were on you and you could hear his breath hitch every time you moaned and you could see his eyebrows srunched together in concentration as he touched you.

It was like a waterfall of emotions ran over you and you needed him right now. You needed him inside you or you were sure you would start crying.

"Eds, please."

"What do you need baby? huh?" Eddie asked you, his tone almost mocking. It truly wasn't meant to be. He was being as sincere as he could be, but you were falling apart underneath his touch and he was dying inside.

"I need you. Need you inside me, please just, please-" Eddie cut you off with an all-consuming kiss. His lips moving against yours, his fingers never once stalling their never-ending movements against your most sensitive part.

"Not yet, baby. I gotta get you ready first, okay? You gotta take my fingers before you can take me, yeah? Can you do that for me, is that okay?"

"Yeah, shit, okay."

Eddie moved away from your face, leaning so he could watch where his fingers lay against you. He slowly moved them down to run between your folds, like he had done before, only this time he kept them there. You felt his middle finger press against your entrance and you had to fight every instinct in your body to stop yourself bucking your hips against his hand.

Eddie gently pressed his finger into you, he moved so slowly you barely felt the pressure. He stopped once he got to his knuckle and looked up at you, "does that feel okay? It doesn't hurt or anything?"

He was so sincere it broke your heart, "It's tight," you told him honestly. "But it's okay, it feels good."

"Okay, okay baby." Eddie pulled back and pressed his finger back into you, a little further this time and you mewled at the new sensation. He stopped quickly, waiting for you to tell him to stop, but you didn't, you just tightened your grip on his arm.

He kept working you open until you took his whole finger, his ring rubbing against your entrance with each smooth thrust against you. Soon, it wasn't enough and you needed more.

"I can take more." you told him, eyelashes fluttering up at him as he watched your face.

"Good girl" Eddie breathed against your ear and goosebumps ran down your arms. He smiled, clearly pleased with your reaction.

Eddie moved another finger to press into you, both of them together was a stretch you weren't expecting. You winced again and the concern flooded back into Eddie's face, "you can do this baby, huh? It'll feel so good I promise. Just breathe for me."

You listened to Eddie's every word like it was law. Taking in steadying breaths with each thrust of his fingers, as he worked you open.

Soon both of his fingers were inside you. It still felt sore, but the pleasure was overwhelming and you couldn't help the way your hips moved to meet his movements. Eddie's face lightened at your reaction, at how your eyes went heavy with pleasure and your body moved of its own accord.

You moved a hand that was resting beside you to pull him down by his chain that dangled over you, into a fiery kiss. All teeth and tongue as you clenched around his fingers.

"Fuck baby," Eddie pulled back from your kiss, looking down at your cunt and then back up at you again, "can I eat you out, is that okay?"

You felt your confidence falter, you didn't know what that meant. Not really. It felt embarassing not to know, you should know, right?

It was as if Eddie could read your mind, he placed a soothing kiss on your forehead before he said "So, I put my mouth on you and I use my tongue and it feels really fucking good, so I've been told."

Eddie winced at his accidental mention of his other sexual experiences. Not that it was a secret, but it wasn't the right time for him to bring them up. He was just trying to relax you.

"Oh- okay, yeah. You can do that." You told him, pointedly ignoring his mention of other experiences. He didn't mean it like that, he was just as nervous as you were, he was just better at hiding it. For your sake.

Eddie placed one last gentle kiss to your lips before slipping his fingers out of you carefully, and moving down to your centre. He pulled your legs over his shoulders and made sure you were comfortable.

Then, he ran his tongue over your folds and over your clit. And your whole body convulsed under you. Your back arching up and your neck craning back.

Eddie laughed against you, "Oh yeah? Was that okay?" he knew the answer, but you seemed more comfortable now and he wanted to tease you a bit, he figured it would turn you on even more, and he would do anything to see your desperation grow.

"Fucking shit, oh my god- yeah, please do that again, Eddie-"

You didn't need to ask him twice, he delved back in. Running his tongue through your slit before dipping it inside you quickly, the action pulling a moan from the back of your throat. "You can put your hands in my hair if you need to sweetheart, it's okay" you weren't sure what Eddie meant straight away, but then Eddie moved his mouth up to your clit.

You almost died, you were sure of it.

Your hand reached down to grab onto his hair. Either to ground you or keep him pressed against you. You weren't sure.

Eddie kept lapping at your cunt like it was breathing air into his lungs, his tongue alternating between sucking your clit into his mouth and running down your folds, dipping into you and tasting how desperate you were.

You tightened your grip in his curls and his hold on your waist got firmer, keeping you pinned against the mattress.

"Eddie," you said suddenly.

He pulled back and looked up at you, his mouth covered in your wetness. If you weren't so turned on you would have crawled away from him out of embarrassment. But instead it only made your stomach drop and your heart race.

"I need you to fuck me" was all you said.

"Are you sure, you were so close angel?" He had heard you hold your breath and felt you legs tighten around him, he could already read you better than you could.

"No, I wanna come with you inside me, please." You were practically begging at this point and Eddie relented. He didn't want you begging, not this time. He wanted to give you whatever you needed.

“Okay angel, let me get a condom yeah?” you nodded as Eddie moved away from you. It was only then that you noticed he was still fully dressed. Something about that made your breath hitch. You didn’t know why.

You watched as Eddie pulled his top over his head, his eyes found yours as you stared at his bare chest. He bit back a smirk, he wouldn’t tease you about that, not yet anyway.

You were pulled out of your trance when you saw him take of his pyjama bottoms he had thrown on earlier. He hadn’t put any underwear off, something you were very grateful for.

He was big, but you already knew that. You had felt him before when you moved your hips against him during those late night make-out sessions. You had also seen him before, Eddie had a habit of walking around the trailer without a towel, after a shower, when he knew Wayne wasn’t home. He had made sure you were comfortable with it first, and when you have managed to stumble out that you had no objections to it he had only kissed you and told you he would also have no objections to you walking around naked.

Eddie grabbed a condom from his side table and rolled it on. You meant to ask if you could do it for him, but you were too distracted.

He moved to lay back on top of you and you grabbed his shoulders instantly, you felt the nerves creeping back in and you needed to ground yourself.

"I've got you baby" Eddie said, as if he knew exactly why you had grabbed onto him, "I'll go real slow, I promise. If it hurts you just tell me and I'll stop."

You nodded your head and Eddie tapped your thighs, encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

Eddie reached down and lined himself up against your hot cunt, your breath hitched at the slight contact and you closed your eyes.

"Hey, look at me," Eddie said, "Give me your eyes sweetheart, I need to see you while we do this" Eddie's voice had never sounded so gentle.

You opened your heavy eyelids and met his gaze, it was full of love and adoration and you were sure yours mimicked his.

Eddie leant down and pressed his lips against yours. He was trying to distract you while he first pushed in, you didn't know that though.

Eddie gently pushed into you, barely even getting the tip in before you winced in pain. He looked at you, eyes full of worry, he thought he would get a little more in before you reacted like that.

"It's okay, it's okay" Eddie told you when he saw your face scrunch up in worry. "It's normal for it to hurt the first time baby, do you want me to stop?"

"No, fuck, it's okay" you shifted uncomfortably but soon stopped moving when you realised it only made it hurt more.

"Just- keep going slow, I'm just nervous"

"I know, but you're doing so well for me, huh?" Eddie encouraged you and it helped ease you a little more.

He pushed in a little more, ready to stop when your body tensed up again, but you told him to keep going, that it was more of a harsh pressure than actual pain. So he did, reluctantly, watching your face for any sign of you being in more pain.

He got about halfway in before you pushed back on his shoulder and asked him to stop. He still inside you and pressed a kiss to your parted lips, "good girl, thank you for telling me".

You nodded your head, your eyes screwed shut again as you tried to adjust to the feeling of him being inside you. "Just breathe, that's it baby."

Eddie ran his hand through the hair that had fallen over your face, pushing it off you so he could properly see you.

You took a couple of deep breaths, basking in the love and attention Eddie was showing you. Soon enough the dull pain turned to a pulsing need to feel more of him.

"You can move" you told him, he kissed your cheek and started to push his hips in again. It didn't hurt as much anymore. Eddie had snaked his hand between your bodies to run his fingers over your sensitive clit in a bid to distract you from the dull ache.

It worked, because soon enough he had fully bottomed out in you.

"How does that feel sweets?" Eddie asked you.

"it's a lot" you replied, Eddie just smiled and rubbed his nose against yours. If you had told him a year ago he would be rubbing noses with some girl he was ridiculously in love with he would have laughed and then told you to fuck off, he would never do that, But here he was.

"But it feels good, it's just, oh shit, like a dull ache that's all. It doesn't hurt anymore." You assure him.

"That's good baby, you did so well for me. You just tell me when I can move." He told you, dipping his head down to rest in the juncture of your neck, pressing heavy kisses into your skin.

You let him carry on like that for a minute, enjoying his lips on your skin and how full you felt from his being fully inside you.

"You can move, Eddie." You told him after a while. Your legs tightening around his waist.

"Fuck, okay angel" The relief Eddie felt at being able to finally move was palpable. He pulled out of you slightly before he pushed back in, you moaned instantly and it only spurred him on more.

He found a rhythm that was perfect for both of you, he never fully pulled out, but he kept the pressure on you as he ground his hips against yours, hitting that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars.

You swear your whole body was crying out for Eddie. You moaned and whimpered, his name falling from your tongue like a prayer. He kept his head in your neck, sucking love bites into your skin after you had begged him to. The burst blood vessels underneath your skin made it look like Eddie was painting a galaxy across your neck.

He eventually pulled back and kissed you. Deep and sure. But your moans kept you from kissing him back the way you wanted to. You clawed at his back and shoulders and he let his head fall to rest next to yours. You could hear every moan he made when he was that close to you, and you swear it was that which sent you tumbling over the edge of that cliff Eddie had held you over all evening.

"Fuck, baby, I think I'm-" you couldn't even finish your sentence, pleasure washing over you.

"Yeah sweetheart? You gonna come for me, huh?" Eddie talked you through it as your scrunched your eyes closed and pulled his hips closer to you, you feet digging into his lower back.

"That's my girl, let go for me. I've got you, it's okay."

You fell apart underneath him and you were almost certain you screamed his name, but you couldn't be sure. Your ears were ringing and there were stars dancing over your eyes and all you could feel was Eddie as he stilled inside you.

Eddie came as you did, hearing your moans and cries as you came undone was all it took for him to come crashing down.

You both held onto each other as you let your bodies come back down from whatever the hell kind of religious experience that had just been.

Neither of you spoke for a while. Sounds of your heavy breathing and whines filling Eddie's bedroom.

Eventually Eddie lifted his head from the crook of your neck. His hair sticking to his sweaty face. You giggled and pushed it off his face, much like he had done to you earlier.

"Are you okay?" he asked you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of pain or regret. He didn't find any. He was only met with overwhelming love.

You nodded and felt tears prick at your eyes, oh fuck.

"Hey, hey, whoa. Baby? What's wrong? Does something hurt?" Eddie asked you desperately. Totally unsure of what to do.

You shook your head quickly, "No, nothing- I just, that was a lot, and I love you and I cry sometimes you know this" You managed to get out through little cries as you let the tears fall.

Eddie couldn't help the laugh he let out, it was a mix of relief and happiness as he watched you. He pulled you tighter against you and held you until you calmed down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay? It might hurt a little sweetheart" He told you, taking hold of one of your hands before he slowly pulled out of you. You hissed at the feel of it, but you missed him filling you up more than it hurt.

"I know baby, it's okay. I'm gonna go and get a towel to clean you up, okay?" you nodded and Eddie moved off of you.

You only realised you had closed your eyes when you felt Eddie's hands on your legs. He had put his pyjama pants back on, but left the top off.

You let him part your legs again, running a warm washcloth over you as you whimpered at the overstimulation. He shushed you gently and assured he was nearly done. He pulled you up by your hands, into a sitting position at the end of the bed, and you wrapped your arms around his stomach, resting your head against him as he ran his hands through your hair, kissing your head.

Eddie hated to interrupt this moment but he knew you needed to go to the bathroom before you both fell into bed and went to sleep. He remorsefully told you so and he heard you groan, your grip tightening around him.

Eventually you did let go off him, he walked you to the bathroom and only left when you told him to go and get into bed, that you would be back soon.

You made your way back from the bathroom to see Eddie had changed the bed sheets. You didn't ask why.

Eddie smiled at you as you walked over to him, throwing yourself down and clawing at the duvet to get underneath it with him. He laughed and lifted the covers for you to climb under.

"Was that okay, sweetheart?" Eddie asked you quietly as you settled in next to him, your legs tangled together and your head resting on his chest. His arms keeping you pulled tightly against him.

"It was perfect, baby." you breathed out, tiredness quickly overtaking your whole body.

Eddie ran his hands over your back and whispered a "I love you" against your head.

"I love you too" you told him, before you fell asleep. Both of you a mess of limbs tangled together.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson my beloved #edde munson imagine #stranger things s4 #eddie stranger things #stranger things #joseph quinn #joe quinn #eddie my beloved

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 20

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: weekends aren't for rest, they're for being sick and anxious so Monday will be a treat.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you enter, you try your best not to make too much noise. You set the bags down lightly and ease the inner door shut. You can hear your dad and the soft sound of puzzle pieces meeting the table.

“Ya know, thirty years almost, but I can see her just like yesterday,” he says.

Your heart clutches. You never heard him talk about your mom. When you were a kid and didn’t know better, he just ignored all your questions about her. When you got older, you stopped asking. You figured it’s easier for both of you to pretend she never was.

“I’m sorry, hon,” Leslie comforts, “you know, in my line of work, I’ve seen it over and over. It’s a wound you can’t heal.”

“Oh yeah,” he grits, “yeah, I’d say…”

You swallow and lean back on your foot, crinkling the bags behind you. You cringe as you hear sudden movement. You turn and work to slip off the white loafers. You pretend like you weren’t listening as Leslie’s shadow looms from the archway.

“You’re home,” she proclaims, “we didn’t think you’d be so early.”

“Me either,” you say as you face her. 

Her lashes flick and her mouth opens, “oh my, you look so good! Weren’t you working today?”

“Uh, did some work,” you lie, “I got a few hours off so I… did some running around.”

“Oh, gosh, come on, you have to show your dad,” she takes you by the wrist and tugs you around, “Charles, look at your girl.”

She presents you with her hands on your shoulders. You can’t even look at your dad as the couch creaks and he grunts at your appearance. He snorts and pushes another piece into the puzzle.

“What am I looking at?” He sneers.

“Charles, don’t be like that. Look at her hair, and this dress,” she touches your hips, “must be a nice job, huh?”

“It’s alright,” you shimmy out of her grasp, “I just… needed something more presentable–”

“Something shorter,” your father scoffs, “so when she’s bending to tidy the floors you can see right up.”

“Charles, that’s gross,” Leslie reprimands.

“Truth can be like that,” he snickers, “think some man’s buying her fancy clothes so she can sweep? We both know how she pays for you.”

“No… it’s not…” you shrug and give up, “I’m gonna put my stuff away and start dinner. If you want, you can head off early too.”

“Oh, I don’t mind sticking around,” Leslie says as she once more sits beside your dad, “let me know if you need any help with dinner. Don’t wanna get anything on that nice little dress.”

You nod and hesitate. You can’t tell what she means by that. For as much as she can call out your father, she often speaks with an edge of her own. Just like the cigarettes, she must assume his insults are your fault.

You leave the room and grab the bags. You carry them up the stairs to your room. You shut the door and sit on the end of the bed. You bend and cradle your head, trying to set it straight after the dizzying day.

👠

The bus provides a momentary break from your hostile world. There is no safe place for you. Home is barely that and work is… confusing. Your only escape is to focus on your tasks and get through them. Get through Mr. Laufeyson’s list then come home and the chores left untouched. 

Your look at the time on your phone and black the screen. You get a glimpse of your reflection off the glass as you do. You didn't do too bad with the makeup. It looks okay. You tried not to use too much as you recalled Eliana's instructions.

You shake off your doubts and airy feeling around your legs. You're not use to the skirt or the pretty fabrics. You feel overdressed and out-of-place, but the latter is so new to you.

Through the gate and along the edge of the drive, you hear your name flutter in the air. You stop short as you see Frigga strolling along the hedges, caressing the petals of a rose. She draws away and strides towards you, an ivory skirt paired with a golden brown blouse and nude heels.

“You do start early, don’t you?” She approaches and takes your hand, “come, let’s have tea.”

“Oh, uh, I…” you let her tug you along the walkway towards the front door, “the carpenter is coming today–”

“Ah yes, Loki mentioned you were working on restoring the gazebo. That’s lovely. We used to have tea there, me and… his wife. She was a laugh.”

“Mm,” you hum. Whoever this woman was, she must’ve been very special. You imagine a beautiful woman with silky hair and long legs like Frigga. She must’ve fit right in.

“I suppose if it was meant to be, it would be. I only hope my son can find happiness again,” she squeezes your hand before she lets you go. 

She opens the door and waves you in ahead of her. You slip out of your flats much easier than your usual lace-up sneakers. She steps out of her heels and sighs.

“That’s his problem, you know? He’s lonely but too proud to admit it,” she sidles around you and leads you down to the kitchen. You follow and watch as she goes to the counter and pours from the waiting teapot. “Though I haven’t seen him today. I suppose he’s sleeping in, it is the weekend.”

You tilt your head but don’t comment. For as long as you’ve worked for him, not very long at all, he’s never slept past your arrival. Well, not so far as you know.

“I do love this skirt,” she comes back around the counter and touches the tweed, “wonderful pairing,” she touches the blouse with the petal shaped cutouts around the high-collar, “you’re learning.”

“Um, yeah, all the clothes are so pretty,” you say.

“Please, have your tea. I’m sure you have time before the carpenter,” she urges.

“Right, er, I’ll just take my bag upstairs first,” you say, “out of the way.”

“Sure,” she accepts with a kind smile, “how about I take this out to the patio, we can enjoy the sun?”

“Alright,” you agree and hike up your bag, “thank you.”

You quickly flit off and head upstairs. You weren’t expecting her to be there. You just hadn’t thought of it. You only dreaded facing your unbendable boss and his persistent stare.

You go into the library and tuck your bag under the writing desk. You double check the schedule in your phone; Ronan, 10. You have an hour before he arrives.

Your mind is already on the gazebo as you scurry back into the hall. As you shut the door gently, you hear a groan. You peer down towards the unusual noise and blink at the slightly ajar door. The main bedroom. Mr. Laufeyson’s. It rises again before a drawn out exhale, his timbre rumbling low.

You quickly set back to your path and flee downstairs. Maybe he’s talking in his sleep, or more likely, stretching out a few kinks. Your curiosity quickly dissipates as you pass through the dining room and out into the patio.

Frigga sits with large pointed sunglasses over her eyes. She tilts her face up to the sunlight as you sit before the other cup of tea. You pull it close and look out at the yard. A streak of green catches your gaze.

You watch the hummingbird hover over fuchsia petals. You stare dreamily, lulled by the peace of the moment as Frigga merely sips and basks. This isn’t so bad. The bird zips between flowers before disappearing behind a tree. In his stead, the skittish chipmunk scrambles along the railing of the patio. You smile at his fluffy tail.

“I’ll be off tomorrow,” Frigga states, “my husband will be expecting me. Oh, but I’ll miss you, darling.”

“Is it very far?” You wonder.

“Four or five hours,” she answers, “not very far but enough. It’s so lovely up where we are. I wish you could see. Perhaps one day. When things are better.”

Before you can answer, there’s a subtle click behind you.

“Morning,” Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is unleashed onto the scene as the patio door swings inward, “mother,” he pauses before he enunciates your name, “beautiful day out.”

Your shoulders stiffen and nearly touch your ears as you sit straight. He pulls out the chair at your other elbow and sets down another teacup with a clink. He sits and smooths back his dark hair, tucking the spiralled ends behind his ears.

“Late morning,” his mother remarks, “any tea left?”

“Some, shall I–”

He puts his hands flat, moving to stand but she shoos him as she’s quicker to rise, “I’ll get it myself. And you darling,” she dips her chin in your direction, “more?”

“Oh, no thanks, I’m still… working on mine. Thank you, Frigga,” you say, mindful of each syllable.

She leaves and the door clicks shut behind her. You stare at the brim of your cup, turning it slowly between your hands as Laufeyson raises his own to his lips. He drinks carefully before putting it down again.

He’s quiet. He shifts and plants an elbow on the table. He turns his attention to the yard and watches. You dare to look up as well, the chipmunk poking his head out from the bush where he hides. He ran away at Mr. Laufeyson’s arrival.

“Cute little fellow,” he remarks as he faces you again. You quickly lower your eyes.

“Uh, yeah…”

“Mmm,” he drones and taps his fingers on the porcelain teacup, “you… that’s a nice shirt.”

“Thanks,” you lift your cup and drain most of it, gulping painfully as you put it back down, “I should go start. Ronan will be here shortly–”

“The carpenter?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, I have him penned in–” You explain.

“And? He is a carpenter, he knows what he’s doing. I doubt he needs you watching over his shoulder.”

“I know, uh, but I should be there to let him in,” you slide your cup off the table.

“You’re not even done your tea.”

“I’ll finish on my way in–”

“You’re avoiding me,” he accused and you wince.

“What?”

“You’re running away? Why?” He challenges.

“I’m not, I– I have work to do.”

“Work I give you. I’m your boss, you may sit and finish. I’ll permit it.”

You falter and set the cup on the table. You lower yourself back to the seat and fold your hands. You look at your lap and push your shoulders back. He is back to his haughty demands, you find that part of him easier to handle.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Laufeyson, I wasn't running away.”

He scoffs thinly and his nostrils flare as he stares off at the hedges that edge the patio, “I wonder why you can be so quick to flee me when you sat and let my brother feel you up.”

“Huh?” You blanch, stuck by the accusation. “Mr. Laufeyson, I–”

“I know him well and I’m not as blind as my mother. I saw it. You didn’t say a word. You just let him do it,” he clucks, “why?”

Your eyes round and you bat your lashes. You nearly choke, the acidic flavour of the tea drying on your tongue. Was it that bad? You tried not to think about it, to let it affect you, even as the memories flashed in your head, you just tried not to feel anything about it.

“I didn’t… well… he’s your brother, Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t want to assume… to offend–” you stammer.

“So you let him do what he wants?” He snarlss as he turns his sights on you, a brow arch tritely. “You do not work for him, you work for me.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do,” you sputter, confused by his anger. “I tried to…”

Your voice trails off. No, you didn’t try. You were too afraid too. He’s right, you let Thor keep touching you and you didn’t say anything, you didn’t move, you just froze up.

“It makes me wonder,” he cups his chin, leaning on his elbow, “how far would you let him get, hm?”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you whimper, “I’m sorry–”

“Did you like how he touched you?”

“N-no, Mr. Laufeyson, no, of course not,” you plead.

“You do not want him to touch you?” He prompts.

“No, I… didn’t know how to say—”

“Shhh,” he hushes you, lifting his chin from his hand and pressing his finger to his lips. He pulls his hand away to point at you, “I’ve a better question…” He reaches towards you and you flinch. You quiver as he traces the cutout along the top of your blouse, “how far would you let me go?”

You squirm as he hooks his finger inside the teardrop window in the fabric. His fingertip brushes you as he gives a slight tug, looming closer as he draws you towards him. He smirks as you stare dumbfounded. What is he doing?

“My brother will not touch you again,” his voice is low and rocky, “I will make sure of it.” He tickles you slightly and rescinds his hand, “and you will make sure to remember who you belong to.”

He sits back and hooks his fingers in the handle of the porcelain mug. As if on cue, the french doors open behind you and Frigga trills as she emerges, “oh, just enough tea,” she announces, “I added a dash of honey this time.”

She places the cup by her empty chair but does not sit. She twirls and paces around the patio, going to the flower boxes along the rail. She leans in to examine them.

“Perhaps the carpenter could have a look here, it’s crooked,” she declares. “And I dare say the guest room has a loose floorboard right near the bed.”

“Mm, perhaps, mother,” Laufeyson drawls as he once more raises his cup, his eyes stuck on you, “my house manager will be sure to ask, won’t she?”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you wisp out through your constricted throat, barely registering his command. 

You can only hear his previous words echoing, over and over; remember who you belong to. Belong to… No, you only work for him.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #dirty work #au #maid au #avengers #mcu #marvel #thor

[thetriumphantpanda]

i work from nine to five; hey hell, i pay the price | Marcus Pike

Summary | You use the office halloween party as a way to prove you can push yourself out of your comfort zone. You didn't expect that to mean that the apple of your eye, Marcus Pike, would take an interest in you.

Pairing | Marcus Pike x Plus Size F!Reader

Word Count | 4.4K

Warnings | Explicit smut, workplace 'romance', negative talk about bodies, body issues, plus size reader, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PiV sex, dirty talk, mention of food and alcohol, halloween vibes, costumes, pet names, but nothing else.

Authors Note | I told myself I wasn't going to do halloween writing, and then I had a very vivid image of Marcus Pike bending me over his desk at a work party.... So I did some halloween writing. As a woman who lives life in a bigger body, this one goes out to everyone else who has felt the way reader has felt. These are MY OWN experiences, attitudes I've had given to me, and given to myself, they aren't universal, we all feel differently about ourselves, but if you've ever been made to feel less than because of the way you look, just know I see you and that Marcus Pike would absolutely take you apart regardless of how thick your thighs are. If you liked this, please consider supporting me through my Ko-Fi.

Divider by @saradika

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You tug at your skirt a little, trying to pull it down over your thighs. It seemed like a good idea at the time, to choose something skimpy for the office Halloween party. A way to challenge yourself, finally start to work through the years of bullying at school, and the off-hand comments from your almond-mom who had always told you things like, ‘you could stand to lose a few pounds’, or ‘surely a salad would be a better idea?’. 

It had been such a relief when you’d gotten this job two years ago, finally earning enough on an FBI salary to move out of your family home and into your own space. A space where you weren’t judged for how many fries you had on your plate, or how the pair of trousers you’d chosen to wear made your belly look. It had been good for you, and ever since, you’d been trying your best to challenge yourself to do things you never thought you’d ever have the confidence to do. 

Things like standing in the office, in a pair of fishnet tights, with a skirt so short that if you bent over, Dave from Finance would get a complete eyeful. Looking around though, you couldn’t help feel like it had been a terrible idea. Amy from HR looked absolutely phenomenal in her devil outfit – a red bodycon dress that looked like it had been painted on, showing not a single imperfection on her body – and Jessica, who worked reception, in a Catwoman jumpsuit that hugged her figure perfectly. You don’t think it would ever go away, the comparing yourself to everyone else, even though you knew that Amy and Jessica would totally have their own insecurities about things. 

You were trying to make yourself at small as possible, crowding yourself into the corner of the room, hand clutched around a plastic cup full of ‘spooky punch’, that Hannah, the office manager had put together, which comprised of mostly vodka, some orange juice and what looked like a whole bottle of green food coloring, with some eyeball candy floating around in it. She’d put together a Halloween playlist, which was currently blasting The Monster Mash at a decibel you think should be illegal, and everyone had contributed to her spooky buffet, which was just normal food cut into shapes – like your addition of frozen pizza that you’d cut out with a ghost-shaped cookie cutter. You know you should go and mingle. Adam, on your team has already tried twice to get you to join their little group, so you relent, and walk over, giving everyone a warm smile. It’s all going well, until Alison, nods her head in your direction and stats speaking. 

“Did you work late?” She asks, to which you shake your head. 

“No, why?” 

“Oh,” She grimaces, “I just didn’t think you’d dressed up, is all.” 

And you know it’s mainly because she’s oblivious to mostly everything, but it smarts. Sure, the orange turtleneck is something you’d worn to work before, as are the black platform heels, but the skirt that ghosts the bottom of your ass and the fishnet tights that are still probably one size too small are not something you usually wear, nor are the fake glasses, with thick black frames, or the fucking magnifying glass you’re clutching. You sigh, make your excuses and walk over to the buffet table, picking up one of the slices of pizza you’d brought. Once you’ve eaten that, you reach for one of the cupcakes at the back of the table. It’s iced like a pumpkin and the cake looks to be chocolate, which is your favourite. You’re peeling off the wrapper and about to take a bite when someone interrupts you. 

“They’re delicious.” 

You’d recognize that voice anywhere. Marcus Pike. Head of Department. Not your boss, but your boss’ boss, and the most beautiful man you think you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d sat in on meetings that he chaired, supposed to be taking notes but instead focused entirely on him and how he commanded the room. The way he talked with his hands, and how much you wish you could have him run those over your thighs. Or the way he would chew on his bottom lip when he was concentrating, wondering whether he’d like it if you did that if he were to ever kiss you. 

“Oh.” You exhale softly, suddenly uber aware of the fact he’s probably just watched you eat the ghost-shaped pizza, and now, not a minute later, getting ready to bite into the cupcake, you go to set it down on the table, but he stops you, hand gently holding onto your wrist. 

“Please,” He says softly, “I made them, so I need the ego boost.” 

You smile a little, finally meeting his eyes, “You just said they were delicious, what do you need my opinion for?” 

“I remember the raspberry muffins you made last week,” He smirks a little, “And the apple turnovers the week before those, and everything else you bring in, I need to know what the office star baker thinks about my effort.” 

You’re going to refuse, say you’re already full, despite the pizza being the first thing you’d eaten that evening, that you’ll take it home with you and report back on Monday, but his beautiful brown eyes are soft, almost pleading, so you sigh, peel the rest of the wrapper off and take a bite. It’s actually delicious. He’s put some kind of orange flavouring in the icing, and the cake itself is really good. 

“You were right,” You smile, “It is delicious.”

He smiles, like he’s won a prize and it makes you feel a bit fuzzy inside, that this man next to you has been affected by your praise. 

“Great costume, by the way.” He compliments, and you don’t miss the way his eyes trail over your body. 

“You mean you don’t think I ran out of time and came in my office clothes?” You tease. 

“You’d wear that skirt to the office?” He’s smirking at you, and also offers you a wink, which has your hand dropping to the table, holding yourself up, why on earth was Marcus Pike flirting with you? “It’s good, Velma, right?” He motions to the magnifying glass abandoned on the table. 

You chuckle a little, “First prize, got it first time,” You then take a moment to take in his costume, he’s wearing a brown jacket over one of his usual shirts, a brown satchel is draped across his body and he’s got a hat on, but it’s the whip that really gives him away, “Indiana Jones?” You say quietly. 

“The one and only.” He smiles, opening his arms a little. 

You think it must be the amount of vodka that Hannah put in the punch, but even so, your next question shocks you, “Do I ask where you got the whip from?” 

He looks around dramatically, “Just checking Amy from HR is out of earshot,” Then he leans in a little closer, “It’s from my own personal collection.” 

You reach your hand out, letting your fingers run over the material where the handle is holstered in his pocket. It feels expensive, although it’s not like you have much experience with them to pass judgement on what’s expensive and what isn’t.

“Feels expensive,” You hum, “Guess that head of department salary has to get spent on something.” 

He reaches down and takes your hand in his gently, running soft circles over the skin on the back of your hand, “You really do look lovely tonight,” He speaks softly, “Enjoy the rest of the evening.” 

And then as quickly as he was stood in front of you, he’s gone. You let out a breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding in, focusing on the way your chest is heaving and you can feel your pulse in your head. You pick up your plastic cup and down the liquid that’s left in the bottom, wincing at the strength of the vodka, then deciding you need a top up. 

You mill about for a little bit longer, but still feel like a bit of a spare part. You’ve shown your face, spoken to everyone you should have, and now there’s a glass of wine and a bubble bath with your name on it back home. You pick up your coat from the back of a random office chair, grab your bag from your own desk, and sneak out as quietly as you can. You’re halfway down the hall, almost to the elevator, when you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Running away?” 

You turn around, Marcus Pike is leaning against the doorframe to his office. He’s taken the satchel off, and the whip is no longer in his pocket. He’s crossed one ankle over the other, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Feeling a little like a spare part,” You shrug, “And there’s a glass of wine calling my name at home.” 

He nods in understanding, “You drink whiskey?” He asks. 

“If I have to.” You answer back. 

“Well, how about you stay and have one with me,” He offers, “Leave that wine for another day.” 

You shift awkwardly from foot to foot, because why on earth would Marcus Pike want to have a drink with you? It feels like someone somewhere is having a good old laugh at your expense, but you feel your feet leading you towards him, brushing past him and into his office. 

You’ve been in here a handful of times before, mainly to drop of reports and papers, and only once whilst he’s been there. It’s been a very professional relationship up until now, no flirting, nothing inappropriate. You drape your coat over the arm of the small couch he’s got there – you imagine he sleeps on it when he hasn’t got time to go home during crunch time of investigations.  Your bag sits on the floor next to it. 

He leaves the door open, giving you an out if you want it. He points to the couch, tells you to sit down, which you do, pulling once again at the tiny skirt, trying to cover the way the skin of your thighs bulge through the holes of the fishnet tights, ultimately failing, as Marcus reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, pulling out two crystal tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. He fills them both equally, handing one to you, but he doesn’t sit next to you, he just leans against the edge of his desk. 

“I always thought it was a myth,” You muse, “Agents with whiskey in their desks.” 

He smiles at you, “It’s in there for big wins,” He explains, “Cracking cases and that kind of stuff.” 

You nod your head, taking a small sip of your drink, wincing as it drags down your throat, “What’s tonight’s big win?” You ask, fluttering your eyelashes and then cringing a little at yourself. 

“You looking that sinful.” 

You’re taking a sip when he says it, so you end up spluttering quite unattractively at his words. Is he serious? You dab at the corners on your mouth, setting your glass down on the floor, “Sorry,” You mutter, “But are you for real?” 

He smirks, “As real as you and I.” 

He pushes himself off the desk, puts his drink down on it as he moves. He takes three wide strides until he’s stood in front of you. You look up from where you’re sat, hands folded in your lap. He reaches out, drags the fake glasses from your face, throws them absentmindedly onto the couch next to you. You’re breathing heavily as reaches out with one of his hands. The flat of his palm cupping your jaw, whilst his thumb traces along your bottom lip. 

“Do you want me to close the door?” He asks, voice lower than you’ve ever known it. 

You have no words, your tongue refusing to work, so you nod instead, because as much as you’re still thinking someone is going to come in and tell you you’re being pranked, you also want to know what he’s going to do next. He’s back to you in moments once he’s closed the door and turned the lock. The light above is harsh, but it’s needed, because the blinds are closed. 

He's standing in front of you again, this time both his palms are cupping your cheeks, and he’s leaning down, ever so slowly, until his lips are a hairs breath from yours. God, you want him to push the last few millimeters and kiss you, but he’s stopped. Waiting. And you don’t want to break first. You’ve done it before, gone to kiss someone, and then felt them laugh just before you can, because why would they want to? 

“You gonna kiss me, pretty lady?” 

“I want you to kiss me first.” You admit on a shaky breath. 

You’ve got your eyes closed, so you can’t read his eyes, look for the sense of regret in them, so it’s a shock when you feel his lips on yours. It’s so soft, barely there, before he’s pulling away, still close enough to feel his hot breath over your skin though. 

“There,” His thumbs are moving across the skin of your cheeks, “Now you.” 

So, you do. You reach your hand around to the back of his neck, pull him into you and really press your lips to his. His bottom lip slots between yours and you suck it gently into your mouth. You smile a little at the sound that comes from his throat, then he’s opening his mouth against yours and you’re following, doing exactly the same, letting his tongue behind your teeth as it melds with your own. His hands are dropping from your face, trailing down your shoulders. He leans forward into you a little, his hands under your arms to tug you up. 

You drag your mouth from him to stand up, his hands dropping to your hips to guide you behind his desk. There are nerves bubbling under your skin because you know what he wants as he pressed your ass into the wood. He wants you to sit on it. To be fair to the department, it’s a sturdy looking desk, but the thought of the way it’s going to creak under your weight makes you want to crawl into a hole. Marcus doesn’t push though, just brings his mouth back to yours, letting his hands wander a little, dragging them back up your body to palm your tits through the layers you’re wearing. 

“I think you did this on purpose,” He speaks against your mouth, “Like you knew this woman had always driven me wild.” 

You don’t mean to, but it makes you laugh, “Don’t tell me Velma from Scooby-Doo was your sexual awakening?” 

He laughs back, doesn’t confirm it, but doesn’t deny it either. He’s looking down your body, having pulled back a bit, “Fuck,” He mutters, “Every time I look at you, it gets better.” 

“The magic of a slutty Halloween costume.” You shrug. 

He nods his head, but speaks again, “It’s not just that though,” He’s speaking softly now, “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, wandering around the office all the time, driving me mad.” 

This would normally be the time that you’d try and fight against the compliments being thrown your way. Tell them they must be lying, or joke that they need to get their eyes tested. But somehow, it doesn’t feel like you should do that here. There’s something about Marcus that makes you think he wouldn’t lie, wouldn’t string you along this far just to have a laugh at your expense, so you don’t do it, for the first time in your life. 

You reach up to his shirt, undo two of the buttons, “You know,” You hum, “I think exactly the same as you, with your whip or not.” 

He breathes out, taking hold of your wrists to stop your movements, “Let me make you feel good?” He asks. 

You meet his eyes, feeling heat rise across your face, but you nod anyway, because you’ve come this far, and you can already feel wetness pooling in your panties. He drags his hands down your body, grips your hips and forces you to sit on the edge of the desk, dropping to his knees in front of you. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, as he pushes the material of your skirt to gather at your waist. Your legs open further, and Marcus groans when your movement reveals the see-through black lace of your panties. It hadn’t felt right to dress as a sexy Velma and wear your normal underwear, is how you justify it. 

You’re expecting him to tell you to lift up so he can drag your tights off you, but instead, he hooks a finger through the material at your groin and fucking rips them apart. It makes you gasp. You’d chide him for ruining them, but at this point you don’t care. They were cheap, and if it means you’re going to have his mouth on you quicker, then you’re not going to complain. 

Marcus leans forwards, you can feel the heat of his breath splaying across the lace material, and then he drags his tongue across the length of your folds over the lace of your panties. Even with the material barrier between your skin and his mouth, you’re tipping your head back in pleasure, letting out a breath as he repeats his movements, dragging his fingers just behind his tongue on his last pass of movements. It’s not enough. 

“Please, Marcus.” You beg quietly. 

“What do you want, pretty lady?” He asks, looking up at you with angelic eyes, as if he couldn’t possibly think what it is you want from him. 

“Your mouth.” 

“You already have it.” He points out, proving his point by licking another stripe up your panties. 

“Marcus,” You sigh, “Move the… fuck… move the damn material out of the way.” 

He lets out a huff of amusement, “See,” He says, doing exactly as you ask, hooking his fingers under the material and moving it to the side, “All you had to do was ask.” 

He doesn’t waste any more time now. Letting his tongue dip between your slick folds, dragging the wetness that’s pooled at your entrance up to your clit, where he flicks softly with the tip of his tongue. You feel his thumbs spreading the lips of your cunt, baring you to him so he can really start to work you up. He presses the flat of his tongue to your clit, working it gently as your hand settles into the curls on his head, anchoring him there. He’s doing all the things you love, moving between wide stripes of the flat of his tongue, and quick flicks with the tip, until your hips are grinding against his face and you’re biting down onto your bottom lip to keep quiet. 

“You taste so fucking sweet, pretty lady,” He speaks against your skin, surprising you a little as he pushes not one, but two of his fingers into your soaked cunt, “Feel good?” 

“Oh God,” You breathe out as he hooks his fingers inside you, pressing against a spot you had no idea even existed inside of you, “Don’t stop… don’t fucking stop.” 

He doesn’t, the obedient man that he is. He starts dragging his fingers in and out of you, whilst his lips wrap around your clit, pulling it into his mouth, laving it with attention from his tongue, which sends you over the edge. 

Your thighs are clenching around his head as your body convulses. All you want is to cry out, call his name into the room, but even though you can hear the music from the party down here, anyone could be walking past, and it would be just your luck that it would be Amy from HR. His mouth is working you through those aftershocks as your thighs ease the pressure around his head. 

He's breathing as heavy as you are when he stands, slotting himself between your open legs. You can feel the hard length of him pressing against your silken center, as he dips his head to kiss you again, your taste intoxicating on his tongue. 

“Can I fuck you?” He asks, almost desperately, “You gonna let me?” 

“Please.” Is all you can get out, as he drags you off the desk, flipping you around so your front is pressed against the wood of the desk. 

He’s got his hand on the nape of your neck, pressing you down. You can hear him undoing his belt, dragging the zipper of his jeans down. You shuffle a little, widening your stance as he takes his place behind you. You can feel him dragging his cock through your folds, gathering the slick he’s pulled from you, before he’s plunging into you in one go. It takes everything you have not to scream. He’s big. Stretching you like no-one has before and it feels so fucking good. 

Marcus is still gripping the back of your neck as he starts moving, his other hand gripping the plush cheek of your ass, spreading you open even more as he slowly drags himself in and out of you. He’s going slowly, and you think that the way his breath is hitching in his throat means he’s struggling to keep his composure, so you decide to have a little fun. 

When he’s pulled almost all the way out of you, you turn your head as much as you can with his hand resting there, looking over your shoulder at him as you wiggle your ass, slowly backing into him, letting your cunt suck him right back into you again. 

“Baby, you can’t do that,” He pleads, his fingers digging into the skin of your ass, “Carry on like that and this will be over before it’s begun.” 

“Don’t care,” You mutter, “Harder, please.” 

He starts pounding into you now, the sound of his skin slapping against yours is obscene. You’re both trying as hard as possible to keep the moans and groans as quiet as possible, and you can’t help but wish he wants more, that he’ll take you home sometime, unwrap you and let you scream for him, but you decide to focus on the here and now. 

“Touch yourself.” You hear demanded from behind you, “I want to feel you come on my cock.” 

You snake your hand underneath you, pushing the discomfort of how your arm is trapped between your body and the desk, and start tracing quick circles over your clit. You’re already sensitive, hanging on the edge from his mouth, so you press harder, move your wrist faster. 

“Feel so fucking good, baby,” Marcus groans behind you, “Close, ain’tcha?” He asks, “Go on baby, let go for me, let me feel you.” 

And it’s his voice that does it, that finally tips you over the edge, has your cunt clenching around him, walls fluttering and teeth biting into your bottom lip as your knees give way. Thankfully, Marcus is gripping at your hips, which helps to keep you upright. 

“Where, baby?” He asks, voice strained, and you don’t catch what he means, “Quick baby, where do you want me?” 

“Anywhere.” You groan out, “I don’t care Marcus, just come for me.” 

You think for a moment he might stay inside you, which would be fine, you thank the implant under the skin of your arm, but at the last minute he’s pulling out of you, feeling the hot slick of his cum on the skin of your ass as he lets out a low groan out of his mouth. He’s breathing heavily behind you, pulling his jeans back up. You try and move, to push yourself up, but you’re worried if you move further you might collapse. 

“Stay there.” He says gently, leaning over you to pluck a few tissues from the box on his desk, gently wiping away the mess he’s caused, pulling your panties back into place and letting your skirt cover as much of your ass as it can in your position. 

“You okay?” He asks softly, helping you to stand, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear. 

You nod, because you are, you’ve never been fucked so thoroughly, never been made to come so hard in your life, but there’s an anxiety settling in your stomach. What always happens now is they’ll tell you they had a great time, but don’t think they want to see you again, which is going to be even more embarrassing because you have to work with this man. 

It's almost as if he can sense your anxiety, because he’s cupping your cheek again, leaning to give you a soft kiss on the lips, “Would you maybe want to go out sometime?” He asks, “I know we’ve done things out of order, but I’ve wanted to ask for a while.” 

You smile, because it does make you happy, that the man you’ve fancied for the best part of a year actually wants to take you out, “As long as you promise to take me back to yours after and let me see you naked?” 

He blows out air from his mouth, but his eyes are twinkling, “You drive a hard bargain,” He muses, “But you’ve got yourself a deal.” 

He’s moving from you now, over to the couch, picking up your coat and your back, motioning you over so he can help you into your jacket, hooking your bag onto your elbow, then moving to gather his own things, “Wait, right now?” You ask, sounding surprised, as he shrugs his jacket on. 

“I know a great diner just down the road.” He shrugs, picking up his satchel. 

He’s walking back to you, but you put a hand on his chest, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” You ask, watching a confused look fall over his face, you dart your eyes to his desk, where the whip from earlier is lying abandoned, “I’m only coming back to yours if you bring that.” 

You watch as a smirk splays across his lips. He snatches the whip from his desk, shoving it into the satchel, “Well, pretty lady, lead the way.” 

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