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angry-geese · 11 months

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Sea, Swallow Me

Satoru Gojo x Reader

Warnings: not OSHA compliant. hurt/comfort, light angst, ex-husband Gojo. angry/hate sex, unprotected sex, oral (cunnilingus), fingering.

Synopsis: some ex-husband Gojo smut except him and the reader are still totally in love with each other >:)

a/n: this has been rattling around in my drafts since like march and I finally got my thoughts gathered enough to write it out lol

Word Count: 4.7k

jjk masterlist

Outside, the sky grows dark, signaling an incoming storm. The weather report called for it yesterday; off and on thunderstorms all night, and well into this afternoon. Not uncommon for this time of year. This morning’s grocery trip was one made with the hope of being back before another downpour started, and from the looks of it, you were successful.

Typically, when you come home, the cat is the first thing to greet you. Today, even after she hears your keys hit the counter, she remains just out of view. You don't mind it so much, even if you do find it odd. It gives you time to put away groceries, and the treats you bought for her without her begging for anything.

The foul weather makes it as good a day as any to spend inside. Plenty of chores need to be done around your apartment, as work has begun to consume much of your free time. That’s nothing new. Certain times of the year are busier than others at Jujutsu Tech. It certainly doesn't help that two people are out due to injuries, and another is on maternity leave, meaning you’re on call nearly 24/7.

The cat makes herself known only after she hears a can of food open, chirping as she trots into the kitchen. She stays long enough to finish eating, and get some pets from you, before settling into her spot on the window sill, intently watching leaves being blown around outside. You settle on preparing dinner: thawing meat, and chopping veggies for a soup that’ll take nearly an hour to simmer.

A noise from the other room draws your attention; in the living room, the TV is on—something you vividly remember shutting off. A drama was playing, but the lead was giving you such bad second-hand embarrassment that you just had to shut it off.

Maybe you really are starting to lose it.

You’ve seen it happen to others. The stress of the job—this way of life—gets to some. You could chalk it up to forgetting; maybe the cat stepped on the remote, or maybe you really did just forget. Come to think of it, didn't you turn off the lights in the kitchen before leaving too?

The back of your neck prickles with fear. Did someone really break in? You know this isn't a particularly nice part of town, but the chance of that happening is unlikely. Besides, there is no sign of forced entry. It's just a feeling of being watched. Nothing is missing, just some lights are on, and the books on your coffee table have been moved around, as if someone looked through them. Why go through the trouble then?

Nothing in particular tips you off to the presence behind you. It comes suddenly, and without warning. Fight or flight kicks in. With your elbow and wrist parallel to your collarbone, you swing outwards.

Any normal person's elbow would have been shattered by that hit. Satoru blocks it with little effort. He uses the weight of your movement against you, allowing you to fall against him. It doesn't take much time for you to realize what he’s doing, and shove yourself away from him.

“You broke in?” You say, although your voice doesn't carry any surprise. “I gotta admit, Satoru, that's a new low.”

“Technically I didn't,” he says, “I explained to the guy up front that I was your husband and he let me in.”

Internally, you curse your landlord, a sweet old man by the name of Saito. He was one of the few people who would let you move in on such short notice. This was never meant to be a permanent placement, but you suppose you don't have much to complain about here. It's an older building, but maintenance is consistent, and the interior has been completely redone. Your neighbors are quiet, pleasant people, and this is a nice corner of the neighborhood. Not nearly as luxe as your previous home, but not bad either.

As he sits down on the couch, the cat jumps straight into his lap. You know it's not fair to project human emotions onto her. She's just a cat. But you swear you see a smug little look on her face. She chirps, and bumps her head against his hand, purring loud enough it's audible across the room.

“I think I would have rather dealt with a house robber,” you say.

“I mean, if you're into that kind of thing,” he says, “I can put the mask back on. We'll roleplay…”

“Absolutely not,” you say, snatching the remote for the tv, switching it off, “what do you want?”

Even sitting, he’s nearly eye-level with you. His hand comes up to tug at the silver chain around his neck. You don't know whether to feel angry, or sorry for him. Gojo is almost pathetic enough that you feel bad for him. Almost.

“What?” He asks, feigning hurt. “I can't drop in to say hello to my lovely wife?”

“Ex-wife,” you say.

Despite your current irritation with him, the separation was about as amicable as it could be. Although it’s not official in the legal sense yet, the two of you have been living separately for months now. There was no great turning moment in your relationship, just a lifetime of little things that forced a wedge between you two. These things happen. You were young when you married, and so consumed with grief that perhaps there wasn't enough thought put into it. You don't blame yourself for it, or for anything that happened. At the age of eighteen, you had a skewed view of the world. Mistakes were common at that age. That’s just part of growing up. You were young, and every emotion felt so much more potent back then. It felt right at the time. Hell, it was right.

Maybe you still love him. It’s hard to spend so much time with someone—have so many memories with them—and not love them.

“Tsumiki has a game Saturday,” he says, “you coming?”

You're slightly offended at the suggestion you would miss it. She sent you a text about it nearly a week ago. You swore to her you'd make it, even going as far as to make arrangements to leave work early.

“Of course I am.” You say. “I’ll take her—I’m off work early anyway.”

It's better for the kids that you remain an active part in their life. Megumi and Tsumiki have already dealt with so much upheaval in their life. It's cruel enough that one caregiver left them, but two?

You tell yourself you couldn't do that to them. That alone was enough to get you to stay in your old apartment for a few more months. By then, the kids knew something was up. They're smarter than people give them credit for, and there's only so many excuses you can make for sleeping in separate rooms.

It's been maybe a year since then. Six months since you moved out. You wouldn't call it easy, but you’ve settled into your new routine quite nicely.

“Great,” he says, “why not go together then? I’ll drive. We can get dinner together afterwards.”

Your mouth opens in protest. Although it’s phrased as a question, you know him better than that. Satoru will do everything to weasel his way into this situation. Your barely-pleasant expression sours entirely.

“No, thank you,” you say, gesturing to the door, “now get out of my house.”

“Don't be like that, baby,” he says. His arms stretch out towards you, and you immediately dart out of their path.

“I hated you calling me that when we were married,” you say, “what makes you think I’ve changed?”

“You haven't.” He says. “That’s why I’m still here.”

Within the air here hangs a rift that time won't heal. This room—this space—is too emotionally charged for you to think straight. Your head spins, clouded with anger and spite.

“Don't tell me you left the kids alone to come bother me?” You say.

Tsumiki is nearly fifteen, and pretty independent, but you don't like leaving the kids alone any longer than you have to.

“Of course not,” he says, almost looking offended, “Tsumiki is off at a sleepover, and I got your mother to watch Megs for the weekend.”

“You what?!”

A look of shock and betrayal crosses your face. You love your mother dearly, really, but sometimes she can be a bit… much. Early on into your marriage, she was asking when you were going to have children of your own. Being freshly twenty at the time, your answer to her was simple: never. Megumi and Tsumiki were enough. You wanted to be able to devote your time—and attention—to them, not a newborn.

Satoru catches you in your moment of shock, his arms snaking around your waist. Your hands plant on his wrists to shove them away, yet you stop yourself.

The sound of your phone ringing in the other room gives you a reason to escape. You free his arms from your waist, heading into the bedroom. You don't hear him get up to follow you, yet you know he does. Sitting on the table beside your bed, still charging, is your phone. It’s Tsumiki. You only glance at your phone long enough to see her name, not what she’s saying.

The end of the bed dips under his weight as he sits. He tries his best to be covert about it, but you feel his gaze wandering around the room. From the photos on the wall, to the papers on your desk, to the stuffed animals on your bed. Oh, you can hear his snide comments now.

“Those earrings are new,” he says. And you swear you hear a slight tone of disappointment in his voice. “Pretty.”

Goosebumps rise along your arm as he reaches out to feel it, brushing across your shoulder in the process. Crystals, although they may be glass, cut to look like gems, dangling from your ears. They’re blue in color; not a light slate, but a deep cerulean. Subtle enough that they’re rather unnoticeable from a distance.

“Shoko gave them to me,” you say.

She took pity on you once she found out about the divorce. Maybe she felt partially responsible, seeing as she was the one who introduced you two.

Getting sent off to the religious boarding school known as Jujutsu Technical college was a major blow to your teenage social life. At fifteen, all you wanted was to go to a normal high school with your normal friends. Yet you weren't granted such a luxury, and instead were thrown into a world you knew nothing about. You quickly found solace, and a strange kind of companionship in the girl that smoked behind the school: Ieiri Shoko.

If you didn't end up marrying him, you probably would have married her.

For you, it wasn't love at first sight. You could barely stand him in the beginning. It was a rivalry that slowly turned into friendship, ending in romance, albeit with much prodding from Suguru and Shoko. Teenage love consumed the two of you harshly, and entirely.

It wouldn't be until years later, after the wedding, when you would find out they bet on it.

You don't push him away when he kisses you. Just a peck, nothing more. Like you’re teenagers, exchanging affections in the stairwell between classes. When the higher ups would get upset at you, not him, because he was the strongest and could get away with just about everything.

Of course you still love him. How couldn't you?

You were one of the first to look at him as something other than the strongest. Even after the star plasma vessel, and Toji Zenin. Even after Suguru’s death. Even through your own grief, your presence was constant. To him, the concept of not having you around was strange.

The taste of coffee and lipstick lingers on your lips. Your thumb comes up to wipe away the smudge of red that’s transferred to his lips. And you, so pliable and eager, fall right into his lap.

His lips find your neck, hands wandering from your arms, to your chest, to your waist. He’s savoring your closeness—the scent of your shampoo: coconut. Little do you know, he keeps a bottle of the stuff in his own bathroom. If anyone asks, he claims it’s Tsumiki’s. Only you would know otherwise. She hates the stuff, and has been buying her own since the moment she was able to. Really, he keeps it around because he can't bring himself to throw it away.

“Satoru, we shouldn't do this.” You say. You don't really want him too, it’s only to preserve your pride.

Then why is your body responding so well to him? Your body knows this routine. Maybe the last several months of living alone has sped up the process considerably. Blood rushes where it needs to be, and perhaps most shamefully of all, you’re wet. Although you’re not quite prepared yet, it’s just in the early stages of gathering.

A line of saliva connects his lips and your neck as he pulls away. “If you really wanted me gone, I wouldn't still be here,” he says.

You tell yourself that, if you really wanted him to stop, then you wouldn't have spent so many nights dreaming of this. You wouldn't reach out to the cold spot on the bed beside you. Your subconscious wouldn't long for him in nearly every way imaginable.

His hands trace across your waist, coming to take yours. They’re warm, albeit a bit shaky. He’s just itching to undress you—to claim what’s his. It's a sick, possessive side of him that’s only fueled by your recent months apart. He comes to kneel before you like a man bowed in prayer. Satoru sits in worship, but not for the favor of a higher being. You might as well be one to him. Should you wish it, the strongest—wielder of the six eyes—would worship the very ground before you. That devotion would soon become suffocating. It was a bandaid on an already failing relationship.

“Still want me to stop?” He asks, squeezing your hands. Whether that’s on purpose, or an accident, you can't tell. “You say no and I’ll stop here. Just give me the word and we won't ever have to do this again.”

In this moment, your body betrays you: you shake your head. You don't truly want him to go; you know that, he knows that. He wouldn't be poking and prodding at every little unhealed wound if that wasn't the case.

“I need to hear you say it,” he says. That’s when you notice what’s on the chain around his neck: his wedding ring.

It's like he’s mocking you. Of course he still has it. Of course he saw that yours was still sitting on the bathroom counter.

Satoru has always been like this. He pokes and prods, finding out where you’re weak. What cracks or wounds he can press his fingers into. Pushing boundaries comes natural to him.

Maybe you’ve changed. Maybe he hasn't changed at all.

“I just want to get off,” you say.

“Poor baby,” he coos, “you haven't gotten off at all while I was gone, have you? You should have called me. I would have taken care of you.”

“I think I'd rather call Nanami for that.” You say.

The chuckle he lets out sounds nervous. “I know you're joking,” he says, “but judging by the way he looks at you? I think he'd take you up on the offer.”

You believe it. It was a thinly veiled secret that Nanami harbored a little crush for you. The man would never go as far as to pursue his coworker, let alone his coworker's ex wife. This entire time, he’s kept a respectful distance, only speaking about your marriage if you expressed a want to do so. You’ve considered it. Hell, you’ve given it a lot of thought. You think maybe… just maybe, if the two of you were drunk or desperate enough, something could happen. But fraternizing with coworkers in such a way is ill-advised.

Satoru is going to give him hell tomorrow when he sees him at work. Nanami will be none the wiser, assuming Satoru is up to his usual antics.

“One last chance to back out of this,” he says, “if you don't want to do this…”

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You ask.

His fingers trace down the curve of your spine, before coming to the hem of your sweater, pulling it up—and over—your head. From him comes an audible little gasp once he realizes you have no bra on underneath. That part wasn't intentional; you need to do laundry, and your shirt was baggy enough that a bra wasn't necessary. Your nipples stiffen once exposed to the open air. Although you know how this looks, it sends a pang of self-consciousness through you, causing you to cross your arms in front of your chest. It’s not like he hasn't seen this before. Maybe it's a last ditch attempt to preserve your pride. And he’s nearly tripping over himself to undress, pulling off his coat, then button-up, then trousers. Off comes your skirt, the silky fabric pooling around your feet.

If you could stop for a moment and think, it would be endearing: the desperation that falls over you two like teenagers. He can hardly keep his hands off you, while you don't quite know what to do with yours. Eventually, you settle on wrapping your arms around his neck.

You sit on the edge of the bed before him, still in your panties. Plain black. Nothing fancy, but cute. Maybe if you knew…

You almost scold yourself for thinking such things. It’s not like you had any way of knowing this would happen. You know part of it was to preserve your pride. Being able to move on without seeming like you needed him. He’s not your husband anymore; why go through the effort of getting dressed up?

Beside you, on the bed, he finds a spot to sit. He’s half hard already. His hands ghost up the outsides of your arms, before coming to cup your face. They soon fall to your waist as you move to straddle his lap.

Satoru leans in to kiss you, and it’s… uncharacteristically sweet. That almost makes things worse. If this were something over and done with quickly, that would be tolerable. You could chalk it up to raw emotions or hormones or something other than the fact you still have feelings for him and haven't come to terms with that.

Sex for the sake of mindless pleasure is one thing. It’s tolerable. You can explain it away easily. But the way he handles you—like you’re going to break—sends a pang of pain through your chest. It's too much. Should he act selfishly, that would be far more bearable than this.

You almost want him to. It would be so much easier if he just took what he wanted, and left.

“Lay back,” he says, “like that. Good girl.”

You scoot back on the bed just far enough to fall against the pillows. Your thighs part just enough to accompany him. The body above yours is warm. His lips find yours, then your neck, then one of your stiffened nipples, softly biting down on it. That draws a sharp gasp from you, although the shock it sends down your spine is rather pleasurable.

His fingers hook under the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs slowly. Achingly slowly. Shamelessly, his eyes linger on the way they stick to your already slick cunt. This moment is only dragging out because he wants it to. They’re tossed away alongside the rest of your clothes. Long, deft fingers come to trace along your slit; teasing motions done by a man who can barely contain himself. The patience of Satoru Gojo has limits, and you’re testing them.

He palms himself through his boxers. He's completely hard now. That doesn't stop him from trailing long, sloppy kisses down your stomach, and up your thigh. His thumb traces across the bundle of nerves. Slow and steady. Just enough to get you aching for him, but not enough to get you anywhere. You try to angle your hips towards him—to grind against him—but Satoru cruelty pulls his hand away.

“Just… let me have my moment,” he says, chest heaving as he breathes in.

So he admits it…

His thumb is soon replaced with his mouth, greedily licking and sucking at the bundle of nerves that is your clit. There's little rhyme or reason but it's just messy enough that it'll get you off. First, his index finger pushes into you, then another. Satoru must be moaning nearly as loud as you. The hand that isn't fucking out is wrapped around his cock, and he's bucking into it like it's a warm body. Judging by the noises he's making, he's going to cum, so he stops himself before he does so. You don't. Satoru guides you through your own orgasm, his mouth leaving your clit only after you've stopped trembling. It felt rushed. You're not quite satisfied.

Satoru makes a show of licking his fingers. When he kisses you, this taste only grows more prominent. He's making you taste yourself and you're not quite sure how to feel about it. It's not unpleasant, akin to unripe persimmons in taste.

“Is it how you remember?" You ask, a coy expression spreading across your face.

“Different,” he says, “better.”

There’s no time to grab a condom. Not that you have any in here anyway. Whatever consequences that result from this will be dealt with in the morning.

A small groan leaves him as he bottoms out. It's obvious that he tries to stifle it, and fails, resulting in a noise that certainly has your neighbors questioning things. You'll avoid their gazes in the hall tomorrow morning. This won't become a regular thing, you tell yourself.

Hardly a few thrusts in and he knows he is going to cum too soon. You can see it all over his face. Pleasure turns to concentration, then thinly veiled stress. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills your bedroom. Some small, sick little part of you is grateful for your thin walls.

You hate him. You still love him. You wish he would walk out of your apartment right now. But part of you can't bear to sleep another night alone.

“You don't know how much I've been thinking about this,” he says, making a noise between a grunt and a huff, “about the way you feel. Taste. I couldn't get it out of my head.”

His mouth finds yours again and the kiss he exchanges with you is dripping with desperation. Something small, and quiet leaves his lips once they part with yours. You soon recognize it as an “I love you.”

He cums sooner than either of you expected, and from him, your name spills past his lips like a prayer. Though, you suppose that this is the closest he'll ever get to praying.

Your own release is still just out of reach. It doesn't take much effort to get him on his back, and you on top, riding him. He’s still hard, despite having just cum inside you. The fruits of his effort can be seen streaming down your thighs. Your movements grow sloppier as you grow nearer to your release, grinding down against him and his softening cock. Within your stomach, it’s as if an invisible band is tightening. Your own orgasm comes out in the form of a noise that sounds like both a moan and a sob. It's anger and pain mixing with pleasure. Tears of frustration are brimming along your lower lash line. You hate him. You love him. You wish he would leave but you don't want to sleep alone. A rift exists between the two of you that time will not heal.

Instead, you lay beside him on the bed. From beside you, he grabs a blanket for you to cover yourself with. As much as he missed the sight of your naked body, he knows this room is cold, and you’ll be getting up to get dressed anyway.

To him, there’s not a more beautiful sight: you, laying on the bed beside him, leaking of his cum. It would be better if it were his own bed, he thinks, but this'll do.

“I take it we’re on speaking terms again?” He asks.

“I don't know yet,” you say, “depends on how this conversation goes.”

From beside you on the nightstand, you retrieve your glasses, putting them back on. Outside, the sky still appears dark, only lit up momentarily by a bolt of lightning. The rain has slowed to a drizzle, running down your window in streams.

“Seems like great weather to stay in bed,” he comments.

An arm snakes around your waist. You debate with yourself on whether or not to shove it off.

“I think some time apart will do us good.” You say, and the arm around your waist stiffens. He seems to be deciding whether to pull away or not.

“And what? Couples therapy too?” His tone suggests he's making a joke, but not one in bad faith.

“Just in general, you need therapy,” you’re only half joking when you say it, despite it applying to you too, “but I don't think there's one that specializes in whatever you have going on.”

“Funny.” He says flatly.

He lays on his back on the bed, and you lay on your side, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“I don't know what I want.” You say, finally. “I guess I could use something to eat.”

You had plans to make a nice, elaborate dinner tonight, although you’re no longer feeling like it. You went through the effort of buying the ingredients, and cleaning the kitchen, so you might as well.

Satoru follows you as you make your way to the kitchen, stopping once to pull on a shirt. It used to be one of his, he notes. Maybe enough time has passed that you don't remember. Maybe you do. It’s just long enough to fall towards the middle of your thighs—you won't be giving the neighbors a show. He stops long enough to pull his boxers back on, leaving the rest of his clothes discarded on your bedroom floor.

From a cabinet, you retrieve two mugs. On goes the kettle to boil. He watches as you fill the french press with one… two… three scoops of coffee grounds. Just enough boiling water goes in to wet the grounds—they have to sit for a few minutes before the rest is poured in.

Your taste in coffee hasn't changed much over the years. You still take it with cream and sugar. Satoru—when he does drink coffee—takes it with enough sugar to make your teeth hurt.

“We must be on speaking terms,” he says, “otherwise I'd have been kicked out by now.”

“If I was going to kick you out, I would have done it before we had sex. Not after.” You say, taking a sip of your coffee.

Something about the casualness of this moment makes your chest ache; like the last year hasn't happened, and the two of you are just sharing a moment over coffee.

Neither of you notice the front door opening, nor the jingle of keys being inserted into the lock. Tsumiki, standing in the doorway, nearly drops what she’s holding: a book. Her eyes are wide with a mix of shock, before narrowing into anger.

“‘Miki!” You say, almost as shocked as her, if not moreso. “What are you doing here?”

“Returning this,” she says, holding up the book in her hand, “I sent you a text about it like an hour ago. What are you doing?!”

Truly, you don't have anything to say for yourself. Your mouth opens, and a few, broken fragments of an excuse come out. Satoru, looking nearly as surprised as you, simply waves to her, before disappearing into another room. That won't help your case at all.

“Having coffee,” you say, “we were just talking about your game on Saturday.”

She seems unconvinced. Tsumiki, like most teenagers, is a lot smarter than people give her credit for. Silently, she sets the book on the counter, before turning back towards the door.

“I’ll see you at dinner," she says, leaving.

#jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo smut #not osha compliant #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #ive kinda forgotten how to tag stuff tbh

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f4riedimples · 3 months

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MY COLLECTION

pairings: pimp!sam carpenter x f!reader

warnings: mentions of drugs,underage drinking,sexual harassment ,provocation dancing, prostitution

wc: 1241

a/n: hi everyone, just wanted to finally come back since I’ve only been active on wattpad recently. Hope it’s not too bad!

Oh.

this has to be the worst mistake of your life.

like your whole fucking life. You knew this was a bad idea but you loved Sam so you did it anyways. It took some time convincing but you caved.

you don’t even know why she wanted to start doing this. You were only dancing but even that made you feel a certain type of way because of the way it went.

Sam would invite people over, get them tipsy, get you and the “client” in the room, you would dance, get paid, and that was that.

you didn’t complain since it would bring in a lot of income a week.

On the fourth day you made just 950 dollars in two hours. And it just kept increasing from there. But this didn’t seem worth it anymore.

it all started just a few nights ago. Sam told you who you would take to the room and dance for and that was supposed to be it.

afterwards though you saw the creepy state the guy was giving you. After he paid all his money he tried to grab you but your waist and sit you on the bed.

you immediately got up not feeling comfortable. “No touching, nothing further.” You replied calmly before trying to move past the man and check your earnings.

The dance was quite short but he still paid around 300-400. “Take off your clothes.” He order as he looked you up and down.

you almost froze up in shock and disgust. You knew this would probably happen sooner or later. “That’s not my job.” You denied with a small bit of attitude.

“I’ll give you five dollars, just take your clothes off and fuck me!” He demanded impatiently assuming your it was part of your job or you should go further instead of just selling the fantasy.

“sir, like I said, that’s not my goddamn job.” You didn’t want to raise your voice since this wasn’t a regular. You never know what this man could pull out of do.

Things were getting too intense too fast and you just needed it to stop. As the man tried to get near you again you just wanted to grab the knife hidden in one of the drawers.

just as he was about to reach you, you heard a small bang on the door. “Open. Now.” It was Sam. It was Sam! You immediately ran to the door and unlocked it.

just so no one could sneak in and try to get a free dance with friends, it was a responsibility to lock the door.

Sam immediately came in and glared at the man. “What the hell happened?” She asked already seething. She had heard some of this from outside of the door.

“she won’t fuck me.” The man tried to stay confident even though he knew Sam would be pissed off.

“asshole, she’s a dancer, not sex worker.” Sam hissed before guiding you behind her. It made you feel a bit safer knowing Sam had did something and was here to help you now.

“get out.” Sam said and the man had no choice but to leave. After this Sam immediately stopped the party and everyone went home.

she sat you on the bed and lightly caressed your cheek with her thumb. “princesa, I’m so sorry. Did he hurt you?” Sam asked feeling guilty.

you shook your head only feeling a bit shook up. “No, he didn’t. Thanks for saving me.” You whispered a bit down by the experience.

“There’s no need to thank me. I’ll always protect you from weirdos like that.” She spoke softly before hugging you. You couldn’t help but tear up.

now however you were worried things would be different.

it had been around a month since the whole incident and you were Sam were out on a date. Sam had brought up the idea of bringing in another girl which made you feel a bit jealous.

you never knew if Sam could try to find interest in a new girl. Even though you knew she was joking you couldn’t shake off another feeling you had towards the idea. Fear. Or maybe guilt.

You knew Sam would probably bring in another really young girl desperate for money who wouldn’t know how dangerous this was until it was too late. You couldn’t imagine what could happen.

you couldn’t imagine someone else go through what you did or worse while you stand by participating.

that’s why you had to tell Sam what was on your mind. “Hey Sam? We need to talk about something serious.” you were gonna be open and hope for the better.

Sam immediately got serious and paid close attention. She stare at you still with her usual caring eyes as she waited for you to speak.

“I don’t think I wanna do this. Not anymore or ever again. This whole pimp and dancer thing is just not for me.” Even before you had agreed to do this you knew that even actual strippers or dancers can usually be followed home or harassed by creepy guys.

you knew that some men and other woman felt entitled to seeing more even if that wasn’t on the fine print.

Sam took a tense breath before shooting back. “Are you serious? Like- are you sure that you wanna do this?” Sam was cautious and hesitant not wanting to seem insensitive. She also knew this could lead to lots of troubles.

she tried to respect you and what you wanted. She tried not to be so blinded by the money. At the end of the day you were still her girlfriend.

“yes.” Your voice was soft and you almost felt bad. You didn’t want to disappoint Sam but you also wanted to put yourself first.

“then okay. That’s how it’ll go. I’m just surprised because you seemed to enjoy it especially when the nights were late.” Something about Sam’s last sentence caught you off guard.

on late nights you would decide to get a little extra tipsy to loosen up your nerves but not because you wanted to do more with these clients. “Excuse me?”

“you just seemed to really like it. You never complained.” Sam spoke a bit more quietly as if she was nervous to say. She started to realize maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

“you’re the one who asked me to do this. I could’ve said no but I didn’t because ends needed to be met and I loved you.” Sam was the one who had offered you this after seeing you give her a lap dance.

she realized how good you were naturally and decided that maybe she shouldn’t “let your talent go to waste”.

before this you never consider Sam would ever even have an idea like this. She would tell you how you would deserve the best but right now it didn’t feel the same.

You’ve been dating each other for around a year and known each other for way longer. how could this be your girlfriend.

“I know. And I’m sorry. I was selfish and was desperate to pay the rent and the bills and get more than cheap food.” You let out a soft breath as your nerves temporarily calmed down.

you reached out and held Sam’s hand. “And I forgive you.” You smiled sweetly before pressing a soft kiss against Sam’s lips.

but will things fall back in place?

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #scream x reader #scream vi #scream 5 #sidney prescott #kirby reed #amber freeman #melissa barrera x reader #samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader

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cha0ticspacebi · 1 year

Text

Like 91% of the population, you were now and would always be a beta. Except when your roommate moves out suddenly and fate connects you with Alpha Eddie Munson. After that, things start to change.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (Coming Soon)

Pairing: Alpha Eddie Munson x Female Omega Reader

Word Count: 10.4 k

Tags: Omegaverse and everything that goes with it (knotting, nesting, scenting, heats, ruts, breeding kink, biting, you get the idea), college student reader, mechanic Eddie, panty sniffing but not from who you probably think, reader is a little freak but it's just her new instincts, a few instances were reader expresses body insecurities, talks of infertility, minor Steve Harrington x Chrissy Cunningham, and they were roommates! ⚠️ 21+ MDNI ⚠️

divider by firefly-graphics

All through public school sex education classes, you were told that if you didn’t experience signs of presenting during a certain time period, you never would. Most people don’t. That was certainly the case for you. Puberty came and went without the slightest hint of a secondary gender.

Even as society around you exists in the midst of a massive fertility crisis, more than 91% of the population is classified as beta. Experts in the field predicted that with the rapidly declining birth rates that we might see a rise in alpha and omega pairings but so far that has not been the case. No viable differences were seen until last year when the number of known alphas increased by a meager .2%.

Still, many beta couples continue to seek assistance with conceiving a child, which is part of the reason why you decided that would be your field of study. Currently a third year med student at a university, whose promising research in the field is making headlines all over the world, you hoped one day to become a fertility consultant. Helping all those who wish to start a family achieve their dream.

Ever since you could remember you’ve wanted to help people. In grade school you helped the new student find their way around. You helped the teacher with everyday classroom tasks. Everywhere you went, if you saw someone in need of a helping hand, you provided. Reaching a box of cereal from the top shelf at the grocery store and placing it with a smile in the elderly man’s basket. Helping a lost little girl in the park, you saw on your morning jog, find her mother. Offering to spend your first weekend off in a month helping your roommate move into her new place. Even though that meant you were now a one income dwelling, who wouldn’t be sustained for long on your meager university coffee house earnings.

After helping her, you arrived back to your suddenly empty two bedroom apartment. The immediate urgency for you to find a replacement roommate became very real, very fast.

The next day you posted fliers all over campus, including the coffee shop, the library, even at the athletic center! You asked your friend Robin to stick some up on the bulletin board at her job as well.

“I actually might know someone,” her eyes flashed quickly from the flier to you, “Someone who could, in theory, move in before next weekend if that's cool with you.”

You practically leaped at her offer, “Absolutely! What’s her name?”

“His name is Eddie and he’s a—“

“Oh,” you’d never had a male roommate before. You considered this new development until glancing at the clock on the wall. You were going to be late for class! While voicing your thoughts about her proposal, you were already headed towards the door, “I guess as long as he’s not a total slob and pays his part of the rent on time that’s all that matters. Give him my number and tell him to call me, I gotta go!”

“Wait! There’s one more thing,” Robin tries to scream after you but you're already running out the front door of the Family Video.

She watches your car pull away and shakes her head as she forwards your contact info, “Oh well, she’ll figure it out on her own pretty quickly.”

Tuesday was always your longest day. First the opening shift with the morning rush of tired college kids desperate for their caffeine fix. Working what felt like nonstop until noon, followed by classes until after 8:00 at night. By the time you trudged your tired ass back to your apartment, all you wanted to do was sleep. Days like today were why you started leaving a pillow and blanket on the couch because sometimes taking those few extra steps to the bedroom were simply out of the question.

Collapsing into the cushions, you felt your eyes get heavy and all your muscles finally relaxed. Sleep would come easy tonight.

Until the buzzing of your phone brought you back from the edge of sleepy bliss. You had a text from an unknown number.

Hey, this is Eddie. Robin’s friend. She said you needed a roommate! That’s such a coincidence because I’m a mate who needs a room.

You couldn’t help the little bud of a smile that grew as you looked at the laughing emoji he added to the end of the text. Is it allowed to make first impressions from a single text? Oh well, your initial impression, he’s a goofball. Playful sort of boy next door, childhood friends in another life maybe. Meeting him in person couldn’t hurt right? Robin wouldn’t have suggested it to you if she didn’t think the two of you would get along.

Hi Eddie, I’m free tomorrow after 5 if you want to stop by and take a look. Try it before you buy it right?

You found yourself holding your phone waiting for his response. Eyes suddenly a little less heavy than before. He didn’t keep you waiting long.

It has four walls, a door, and comes with a sweetheart like you? Consider it sold!

Sweetheart? Sure Robin probably told him you're a nice person and all but that’s a little, buzz. Your thoughts were interrupted as he messaged again.

Sorry, I hope that didn't come across as pushy. I don’t want you to think I’m some stereotype. I try not to act like an entitled jerk all the time. It’s just, Robin showed me a picture of the two of you at the lake last summer and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think you were pretty.

The thought that he knew what you looked like and was still sending you cheeky messages made you happier than you’d like to admit. You remembered that trip and knew exactly what picture she must have shown him. It was one of the few where you actually felt good about yourself. With another yawn, you typed a response.

You could make it up to me by leveling the playing field? I should know who I’m expecting to meet tomorrow and possibly share a place with.

Within just a few minutes an image appeared on the screen. He was straddling a vintage motorcycle with a helmet in his hands. Oh.

You weren’t sure what caught your eye more, his soft looking curly hair, his dark chocolate eyes, or those dimples in his cheeks from the smile he was flashing the camera. He followed the picture up with another message.

Rob told me you were in class all day so I’ll leave you alone since you’re probably tired. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow around 5 roomie!

You should be annoyed. First he calls you sweetheart. Then he has the nerve to tell you to go to sleep, like you’re a child who was up past their bedtime. Then to top it all off, this man has the audacity to assume that just because you exchanged a few texts that he can move right in? Who does he think he is? You should be annoyed– but you’re not. Quite the opposite actually, you just got a little more excited for tomorrow. You fell asleep on the couch with that spout of a smile still growing slowly on your lips.

Heading home after class the next day felt different. Instead of going home stressing about an exam or worrying about how you are going to pay next month's rent, you feel a touch of nervousness mingling with the excitement for a first meeting. You secretly hoped that Eddie was as cute in person as his picture.

Fate was smiling on you today because class had gotten out a little early giving you just enough time to straighten up the apartment before Eddie arrived.

You hung a clean hand towel up in the bathroom, put fresh sheets on the bed that your old roommate left behind and smiled when you lit the pine scented candle that sat on the coffee table. Happy that you could get one more light out of it before it would need to be replaced. You fluffed the decorative throw pillows on the couch and finally closed the door to your own room before waiting to hear the knock on the door.

When that noise finally echoed through the quiet air you felt your body shiver with anticipation. You let out a reassuring breath, hoping it would calm your nerves and opened the door.

“Hey!” he smiled as brightly as the picture he’d sent you while he greeted you by name, “So? Am I as cute as my picture? Because you certainly are.”

Add big flirt to your first impressions. He was definitely laying on the charm but you were also falling for it hook line and sinker, “Hi Eddie, it’s nice to meet you. Come on in!”

You offered your arm in a welcoming gesture. He stepped inside and brushed past you ever so slightly. He must be wearing a strong cologne. Just that quick pass had your senses overwhelmed with the earthy, woodsy smell.

“So this is the common area,” you pointed out all the usual necessities, “Here’s the bathroom, there’s the kitchen. Off to the side there is a little dining table but I’ll be honest I think I’ve used it once. I usually end up eating on the couch.” He commented on how it was a nice place and that it was so close to his work he could walk when the weather got nice again.

“Where do you work?”

He closed the kitchen cabinet he’d been snooping in and turned to you, “I’m a mechanic over at Murray’s Auto Repair. Rob said you work at the coffee shop on campus, what’s your field of study, young scholar?”

“Medical. I’m studying to be a fertility specialist,” you made small talk with him as you walked over to show him where his room is… would be! Where his room would be, if you think he’d be a good fit, “Here’s the other room. My old roommate said I could keep the bed and the dresser but if you already have those we can donate these since they’re in pretty good shape.”

He nodded, “Nah they look alright to me. I’m currently crashing on a friend's couch so this would be a huge upgrade.” He inspected the door handle, “Does this door not have a lock?”

“No, mine doesn’t lock either. I always figured it was because they are interior doors?” you shrugged and joined him as he inspected the boring metal doorknob, “They make portable locks you could always use.”

“Yeah, those things aren’t very strong though and when I’m in rut I can get pretty–” you cut him off.

“I’m sorry, when you're in what?”

The complete shock in your eyes and slack jaw had him pulling back a bit from you. A dejected huff through his nose, accompanied by a shake of the head told you he wasn’t too pleased with your question, “I thought Rob told you?”

“She didn’t tell me anything besides your name and the fact you were looking for a place,” you swallowed hard. You were in your third year of med school, you knew damn well what a rut was but the problem here was that only alphas experience them so if he… the wheels clicked in your head and you suddenly felt small standing beside him, “You’re an alpha?”

He crossed his arms, “Is that a problem? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable so you just say the word and I’m gone.”

His messages last night suddenly made a little more sense. He didn’t want to come across as a stereotypical hotheaded, asshole alpha. Truthfully though, he had been nothing but respectful so far. He had a steady job and already offered to pay your half of the rent for the first month! He even promised to do half the household chores. Honestly, he seemed like a great candidate for a roommate. Why should his status change any of that?

You shook your head, “No it’s alright.” You rocked on your heels with your hands held behind your back, trying to restore the conversation to its former comfort level, “So, when can you move in?”

His smile reappeared, but he didn’t answer your question. He instead turned and belly flopped onto the bed, you heard a deep sigh escape his mouth, “Shit, can I stay here tonight? I really don’t want to sleep on that couch again.” He turned on his hip and looked at you from the bed, “You know Rob’s friend Steve?” You shook your head, you’d only known Robin since the spring semester and hadn’t met any of her friends yet, “Well Harrington’s a great guy but he’s a family man now and can’t have a lonely alpha crashing on his couch anymore.”

You stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure if you should intrude on the space he just claimed, “Is Steve also an alpha?”

“Yeah. He and I had been living together for years before he met that sweet Chrissy of his,” he collapsed on his back and stared at the ceiling, “They had a kid, cute little boy, a few months ago and I lost my room.”

“Is Chrissy an omega?” you were mentally taking notes. Before Eddie came waltzing through your door, you’d never gotten the chance to talk to someone with a secondary gender at length before. There were some alphas you knew of in your classes throughout the years, mostly because all of them were loud and obnoxious about it. But none that you ever felt compelled to converse with. If they were cool with it, maybe they could answer some questions for the paper your gender sciences professor just assigned. Having some first hand alpha/omega pairbond experience would be great for your research.

“Nah,” well nevermind, considering the low omega presentation rates you’d have been shocked if that was the case. You could always talk to Eddie about what it’s like to be an unmated alpha. He continued, “Never actually had the pleasure of meeting one. I hear they are crazy sweet though.”

You asked Eddie if he needed to go get anything from Steve’s place tonight, to which he just insisted he’d go tomorrow while you were in class. You had been so anxious for his arrival that you forgot to eat so you offered to cook dinner for him.

“You really don’t have to,” he tried to stop you but then his stomach growled loud enough that it was probably heard from the hallway by a passing neighbor.

You both looked at each other and you tried not to laugh at his embarrassed expression, but it wasn’t working, “So is ramen ok? If you’re going to live with a starving college student you’re going to have to eat like one. Not that you aren’t welcome to bring in your own food or whatever. I can clear a shelf off for you.” With that you got distracted reorganizing the sparse contents of the fridge, “There. We can put shared items in the middle, I’ll put the things I buy on the bottom and you can have the top shelf.”

You opened the door wider with a smile as he admired your work. You decided after dinner you’d do the same thing with the cabinets and clear a space just for him, “Ok now I’ve definitely worked up an appetite,” reaching up into the cupboard you presented him with two options, “Do you want spicy or regular?”

He gave in. Already, barely an hour in the apartment, and he knew he was no match for you, “Spicy. Thanks, sweetheart.”

You turned on whatever movie was already in the machine while you cooked and then just a few minutes later you were placing a simple bowl of noodles in front of him. He inhaled them, “That was delicious. I’m doing the dishes!” you were about to protest, “No, don’t even try to argue with me. You've already done enough and I’ve only lived here about 2 hours! I can’t have you doing everything for me. I need to pull my weight.”

“Fine, but sit down and finish the movie first.”

He sat on the opposite end of the couch from you. You chose to ignore the little tug that wished he sat closer to you.

“Is that candle what I’m smelling?” he asked abruptly.

“Probably,” you leaned towards the coffee table and read him the label, “Evergreen Forest?”

His brows furrow, “No, this is sweeter.” He laughed, “When I first stepped in here I thought you were baking cookies, it was so sweet. I still haven’t been able to figure out where it's coming from.”

“Maybe one of the neighbors is baking something?” You weren’t really sure how to respond because you also had no idea what he could be smelling. You weren’t one for perfume and none of your soaps, shampoos, or body wash smelled sweet. At least he didn’t say the apartment smelled bad.

“Sorry, I’m being weird,” he brought you out of your daydream, “Alpha nose,” he poked himself in the tip of his nose, “I’m really sensitive to scent.”

“It’s ok! I find secondary genders fascinating. It’s part of the reason I chose to study fertility.”

He laughed and twisted himself to face you more from his spot on the couch, “Ah, I see. That’s why you let me move in so fast. Using my body for science hm?”

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not so you deflated a little, “No of course not. I just think the phenomenon is interesting. Growing up I always hoped one day I would present, especially after I was told I can’t have kids.”

His laughing faded. The familiar sad, almost pitying look appeared that everyone gives you when you tell them. You’re not shy about it and you don’t care who knows. Despite having been focused entirely on building your career since you turned 18 and got that news, you do get asked by outsiders quite often when you’re going to settle down and have kids.

Here comes the inevitable follow up question. He asks you if you want kids, “I’d love to start a family someday.” You shrug and anxiously rub your knees, “I’m painfully single though, so, one step at a time I guess.”

His laughter was quickly becoming your favorite sound in the world, “Me too! Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

“I’m 26,” you smiled, “What about you?”

“27. I presented when I was 17 and after I finally managed to graduate high school I went to a trade school to become a mechanic.” He laughed again to himself, “Not that I needed any of it. Already learned all there was to learn from my uncle.”

The title screen of the movie playing in the background and the thought of your 6 AM shift were shoved aside as you spent hours talking with him on the couch. You learned where he grew up, that he played in a band for fun with his friends, and that he was a giant nerd. Everything from Dungeons and Dragons, to Lord of the Rings, to Star Wars. He loved all of it.

You told him about your hobbies outside of school as well. He asked you questions about what kind of music you like, what your favorite color is, and listened to you talk about the things that interested you. It was kind of alarming how comfortable you already felt with him. He was incredibly easy to talk to. Finally, your body knew you’d regret staying up any later than you already had. You yawned.

“Alright pretty girl I’ve bothered you long enough. Go get some sleep,” he raised an arm and rubbed the back of his neck, “Are you sure it’s ok if I stay here tonight? I know it’s short notice and I wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to let me stay. I can move in officially this weekend if that works better.”

You surrendered. Standing right up and following his order, “It’s fine Eddie. I offered you the room didn’t I? Besides,” you yawned again, “Since you’re covering rent next month you might as well get your money's worth. Although I don’t have any extra blankets,” another yawn became the final nail in your coffin, “All I had was that sheet. I might have some pillows in the linen closet,” you went to check but he stopped you with his words.

“You’re too kind, fair maiden. I don’t need much when I sleep anyways,” he gestured to himself, “Alpha’s usually run pretty hot.” You snorted and shook your head. As different as he is, you can definitely tell he’s still an alpha. He rose from the couch with a deep bow, “I look forward to our adventures together as roommates,” he flicked his hair back up and flashed you a great view of those dimples, “Good night sweetheart.”

Eddie moved in his stuff little by little, the whole process took nearly a week. When you returned home each day you would notice a few new additions here and there. He stuck his shampoo in the bathroom, there was a six pack of beer on his shelf in the refrigerator, and you could typically hear music playing from his room at night. Finally the last item, a second guitar amp, landed in his now fully lived in room.

It had officially been a week since he moved the last of his stuff in and the two of you fell into a routine. Eddie’s shifts at the shop were usually the same time you were in class. If he got home before you and made some food, he left you a container on your shelf in the fridge. The last few times he’d started leaving a note on the container labeled “Roomie!” a little heart with bat wings drawn with markers that he definitely swiped from your backpack. Tonight you were getting home first and decided to surprise him for being the world's best roommate.

Your mind thought back to yesterday as you got started. You had just gotten out of the shower when he mentioned that sweet smell again. You figured he might have a sweet tooth so you decided to make cookies for him.

You tied your hair back and put on the apron you’d found on clearance after Valentine’s Day. It was pink with little conversation hearts scattered everywhere. A picture of a ladybug and the caption Love Bug written across the chest. After completing the scene with some of your favorite music playing softly in the background, you started to work.

After grabbing the flour and sugar, your cheeks felt warm. You had to check the clock to confirm, you’d only been working for a few minutes and you already felt flushed. As though you had been working in the summer heat for hours. You opened the small window that was situated beside your dining table and the cold winter air wafted into the warm kitchen. It helped a bit.

Setting the heat in your cheeks aside, you forgot about it after a while. You didn’t even realize how focused on your task you’d become. You felt relaxed. Every care of the outside world was gone. After mixing the last ingredient, the chocolate chips, into the dough and scooping them onto the baking sheet, you put them in the oven.

“Hm,” you mused to yourself while looking through the cabinet. Wondering if you had the ingredients to make an icing to write #1 roomie on one of the cookies.

Your mission was successful and while the cookies baked you whipped up a small amount. Giving you just enough time to do the dishes before pulling the cookies out to cool. You checked the time again. It was just after 5:00 and you knew Eddie would be back soon. Scooping the icing into a small ziplock baggie, you tried your best to write on the uneven surface. He walked in just after you finished the last letter.

“Hi Eddie!” You smiled brightly, proud of your work. Then you held out a small plate to him with the cookie, “I made this for you!”

He froze. His body went rigid there in the door frame. For the first time since you met, there was an uncomfortable silence. He just stared at you for a moment. Then, without a word, walked over, grabbed the plate from your hand and went into his room. Leaving you standing there in the kitchen dazed, confused, and if you were honest with yourself, a little sad.

You didn’t see him again that night. He stayed in his room. Replaying that event in your mind you cleaned up, left the rest of the cookies in a tupperware container on the counter, and headed to bed.

You tried to sleep but the more you pondered, your sadness turned to annoyance. You needed to complain about him so you called Robin.

“Hey! What’s up?” she sounded cheerful, “Isn’t it way past your bedtime?”

You offered a curt pity laugh, “Haha, very funny. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, I’m assuming based on your tone there’s trouble in roommate heaven?” She nailed it and your frustrations poured out like a waterfall.

“I made him cookies and he acted like I committed a crime. He gave me this look, didn’t say anything, snatched the cookie I offered him, and has been hiding in his room ever since. Is he allergic to chocolate? He might as well be with how upset he looked,” you mocked his non existence words, “Oh, I can’t believe the nerve of this girl, making me cookies, letting me move in with her on such short notice! Alpha Jerk.”

Once your rant was over she hummed, “Eddie’s always had a sweet tooth, that doesn’t make any sense. I need more details. What were you wearing?”

“Just my normal clothes I wore to class today. I did have an apron on to keep my shirt clean, but why should any of that matter?”

She laughed, “Sounds to me like you might’ve broken him. Let me guess you went full domestic goddess?”

“Well I wouldn’t describe it like that but—“

She interrupted you, “Eddie’s a simple alpha babe. An alpha who, by the way, has never been with an omega. You cooking things just for him? Classic omega behavior, you should know that Ms. Smarty-Science-Pants. On top of that, looking like absolute wife material probably had his brain sizzling like a piece of bacon.”

You listened to her but it didn’t matter, “I’m not an omega though.” Your words were more sad than you’d like to think about.

You could hear her exasperated sigh, “His brain doesn’t know that. I’m telling you that’s all it was. He’s probably hiding because he’s got a huge hard on!”

“Robin!” You yelled and immediately listened for any signs that he might’ve heard your yell. You tiptoed to the door and listened. Nothing. You waited until back in the safety of your bed before talking again, “I’ll admit, you might be right about the first part. But,” you heart sank a little, “I doubt he’s in there with a hard on. There’s no way he feels that way about me.”

“Why not?” Robin combated, “You’re fucking adorable! And If he doesn’t, he’s clearly not using those heightened alpha senses of his because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

You bloomed again, “Thanks Robin. I feel a little better. I’m gonna get some sleep. I’ll see you later.”

The next morning you went about your normal routine. If you hadn’t decided to grab some rations from the kitchen to stuff in your backpack in perpetration for a day full of learning, you’d have missed it. There on the counter where you left the container, now a lot more empty than before, sat a little note. Thanks sweetheart. He left his signature bat heart. You smiled to yourself and flashed your eyes to his door. As if it could’ve been anyone else who wrote the note for you.

A few days after the cookie incident, you and Eddie had resumed your normal interactions. Although, you hadn’t really stopped thinking about what Robin said. You were on the couch watching some random show on TV when he came in from work.

“Hey,” he sounded tired.

“Hey,” you checked the time, “Thought you got off at 5? I was surprised when I beat you home.”

He went, as he always does, to the bathroom and washed his hands. But this time he made a pit stop to set a small sparkly red bag on the coffee table in front of you, “I was supposed to, had to stay and finish fixing this stupid truck. Damn thing is just going to need to be fixed again in three months anyways.” He stood in the bathroom doorway and looked between you and the bag, “That’s for you.”

You felt the color appear on your face, “Me? Why?”

He replaced the towel he’d been wiping his hands on and walked back to the living room, “Dunno, I felt bad I guess about the other day and when I stopped at the store on my way home I saw that little guy and thought of you.” He spoke in a rushed manner like he was trying to get the words out without making a big deal out of it.

You looked inside the bag and found a small brown teddy bear with a red bow tied around its neck. It was so sweet. You held him in your hands and felt the softness of his fur beneath your fingers.

“I just wanted to say sorry. Not trying to you know, I don’t know. You can just throw it away when I’m not looking or whatever,” Eddie was rambling and it was absolutely adorable.

“No it’s fine. I like him,” you loved him. He was the same color as Eddie’s eyes.

He went to his room after that and must have gone right to sleep because you saw the light from under the door turn off and didn’t hear any music tonight. You sat there on the couch with your new friend for a bit longer and realized something. He only came in with this. If he just happened to see this while already at the store, what did he go to the store for in the first place?

It was one of your rare days off and you were catching up on some laundry. You knew he might view what you were about to ask similarly to the cookies but hey doing laundry in an apartment building is a pain in the ass. If you're going down you might as well bring some of his clothes too.

You texted him. Hey, I'm doing some laundry. You need anything washed?

He was at work but usually responded pretty quickly if they weren’t busy. They must not be busy.

Yeah uh sure. That’s cool. Thanks. There’s a little pile in the corner by my guitar.

You were usually really good about respecting the roommate code. You knocked if you needed to get his attention but hadn’t actually been in the second bedroom since he moved in. Only catching quick glimpses when he would enter or exit.

As soon as you entered, you thought to yourself, My period must be coming. The wall of musky, woodsy scent hit you like a ton of bricks. It was spicy and warm and distinctively Eddie. You stood in the door frame almost trying to catch your breath, Damn it’s probably going to be a rough one, I'm not usually this sensitive.

Once you regained your balance, you learned that Eddie had not one but two guitars. There was a red and black electric one hanging on the wall and a black acoustic one sitting on a stand beside his dresser. He didn’t specify in his message which one you should look by and both of them had piles of wadded up clothing near them.

Trying not to inhale too deeply for fear of passing out, you pulled the collar of your shirt up over your nose and grabbed the first pile under the electric guitar. A few shirts and what looked to be pants that he might wear under his coveralls at work.

With still a little room in your basket, you made your way to the second pile. Opting to just pick all of it up at once and drop it in with the other clothes. You instantly knew this probably wasn’t the one he wanted you to wash. Sitting on top of your now shared laundry were several pairs of crusty looking socks and balled up boxers that had been hiding under a shirt.

You knew you should put them back. Recreate the scene and walk away like you never touched them in the first place. Maybe he wouldn’t notice you had disturbed them. That's what you should do. You knew that. But something stirred inside you. You acted almost on instinct and before you could think too hard about it, you were picking up a pair of his green plaid boxer shorts and bringing them up to your nose.

When you inhaled the scent quite literally knocked you down. You fell backwards onto your ass. A euphoric feeling consumed you, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Suddenly your cheeks were flushed, your heartbeat quickened, and you knew you needed more. You smelled them again.

The room smelled like Eddie of course, it was his room. All his belongings were in here. He spent a good portion of his time here. But this, this was more somehow. More Eddie. Like someone had taken his scent and bottled it into a cologne. Then accidentally spilled an entire bottle onto this single pair of underwear.

Coming down from your high you knew you had to leave them here, he’d notice if the pile was completely missing. Thus knowing you touched his underwear like a weird pervert. But he might not notice one pair mysteriously going missing.

With the green pair still clutched in your dirty fingers, you replaced each soiled item one by one and covered them back up with the shirt. Then stood back on your feet, picked up the laundry basket, and continued your task as though the last few minutes didn’t happen.

He came home from work that night to a small pile of neatly folded shirts and pants placed carefully on his bed. There was also a small container of take out with his name on it waiting for him in the fridge. You didn’t have the courage to face him that night after what you had done. So you hid away in your room. Leaving him completely unaware of the thievery that had taken place or the hidden treasure that now sat tucked away in your nightstand.

It was officially one month that you’d been living with Eddie. If he noticed something missing from his wardrobe, he never mentioned it.

Tonight you were having your first movie night with friends that you hoped to make a weekly occurrence. Robin was already here and tonight you got to meet their mutual friend Steve for the first time when he came over with his partner Chrissy.

“I poured the popcorn into a few different bowls since it didn’t fit in just one,” Robin said with a smile as she held up two mismatched things of popcorn.

You feigned despair, “Oh no! What’re we gonna do? We can’t let people know that we live like this!” You turned to Eddie and held your cheeks, “What will the neighbors think?”

He laughed, “Your reputation as a good neighbor was probably lost the moment I moved in sweetheart.” His nickname for you became common tongue. You knew it didn’t hold any meaning, just Eddie being, well Eddie.

Robin didn’t approve of your shenanigans, she set the bowls down on the coffee table, “I never should have introduced you two. You're both menaces.”

“Au contraire!” Eddie defended, “It’s actually a crime that you didn’t introduce us sooner!”

Your heart swelled hearing that, “Aww, you really do care Eddie. Here I was thinking you just used me for my extra room. Is the big bad alpha going soft?

He smirked, “Nothing soft about me sweetheart.”

“Oh my god can you not make dick jokes for like 5 minutes please?” Robin threw up her hands, “Are we really about to bring another thick headed alpha in here? Seriously, how did you and Steve not kill each other?”

Your eyes tracked between them as they bickered. Eddie sat in his usual spot on the couch and Robin was about two seconds away from walking back into the kitchen.

Eddie laughed, “Relax! Steve and I have more sense than that. Besides, he’s got a girlfriend which calmed him down a little.”

“Good, this apartment can only handle one hot alpha,” You blurted out without thinking and instantly regretted it.

Robin, who was no secret to your massive crush on your friend and roommate, covered her laugh and retreated back to the kitchen. Shooting you a look that says you are so on your own with this one.

Eddie just looked at you, for a brief second there was some unreadable emotion there but it quickly turned to a smug grin. His arm swinging over the back of the couch, opening his legs as he crossed one over the other. “Aww you really think I’m hot sweetheart?”

You didn’t answer him. You’d be forever grateful to whoever just knocked on the door.

On the other side stood a man with fluffy, perfectly placed brown hair and a big smile. Even without the knowledge this man was an alpha, you’d know right away. From the protective arm around this girlfriend’s shoulders and the oozing confidence, this must be none other than Steve Harrington.

Which meant the cute redhead beside him must be Chrissy. She greeted you with a surprise, though not unwelcome, hug, “It’s so great to finally meet you. Eddie’s told us so much about you.”

“Really?” You looked back to Eddie who was uncharacteristically quiet. You decided to just file that in the back of your mind for now, “Come on in! We made popcorn and pizza should be here soon.” Robin had returned and gave Steve a hug. You couldn’t resist the urge to tease her once more, “I hope you don’t mind the mismatched bowls.”

The movie provided an anchor as you got better acquainted with these new friends. You learned that they met through work. Steve is a personal trainer and Chrissy teaches yoga at the community center. Steve was telling you the story of how his jaw literally dropped when Chrissy walked into his gym to inquire about offering classes there.

Your body language had naturally leaned in while listening to his story. You sat up a little straighter. Your arms braced against your knees as you gave Steve your full attention. Or at least tried to. The frequent twitches you caught from the corner of your eye kept distracting you. Finally you looked over and saw Eddie clenching his fists against his thighs.

You waited until Steve had finished to say something, “Eddie? Are you ok?”

His eyes were blown wide as he looked in your direction, “Hm? Yeah, I’m fine.” The white knuckles now braced against his chin and the point of his elbow digging into his leg said otherwise.

Steve spoke up before you could, “You sure man? You look like you’re ready to rip somebody’s head off.”

“I said I'm fine!” He snapped.

In an instant, the once friendly atmosphere turned sour and tense. No one really knew what to do. Everyone looked concerned. Searching for the cause of what had upset him. You however were feeling something very different. All you could think about was touching him. No, not touching, your brain supplied. Scenting.

You wanted nothing more right now than to nuzzle into his hair and neck. Somehow reassuring him that everything was ok.

Now your eyes were blown wide. Your brain all at once processed this intrusive thought. You knew it was nonsense. It must have come from your lessons during class today. Yeah that’s it. You were still just thinking about today's lecture during gender sciences because you shouldn’t be scenting. That’s something only done by alphas or—

“Who wants dessert?” You jumped up from the couch and headed into the kitchen. You heard footsteps behind you. Someone was following you. You didn’t need to turn and look thought. The sound of the footsteps, his smell, everything about him swirling around inside your very confused mind.

You opened the freezer and didn’t realize how much you needed the relief of a cool breeze. Standing there with the door open for a moment after grabbing the tub of ice cream felt incredible.

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice melted your insides. It sounded so soft and comforting, “Are you alright?”

You didn’t want to look at him for fear that just by making eye contact he would somehow know what you had wanted to do. Instead, you chuckled awkwardly and played it off, “Guess I’m just more tired than I thought.”

“No,” Eddie saw right through you, “I’ve seen you tired after a long day. That’s not what this is. Come here.”

Your mind and body were incapable of disobeying him. Even if you hadn’t wanted to, you turned on his command. Closing the freezer door and keeping your eyes locked with his feet.

He touched your forehead. Eddie had never touched you before. All the nights you spent wondering what the tips of his fingers felt like finally answered. They were calloused from playing guitar, the palm of his hand rough, most likely from his job. But nothing had ever felt more natural. It was fleeting thought because he pulled back already.

“Jesus Christ you’re burning up,” He went to the bathroom and returned the thermometer, “Holy shit 102?” He called for Robin.

She came running and you vaguely heard him telling her to go get medicine from the bathroom. He lifted your chin, “You are taking medicine and going right to bed. Do you understand me? No work or class tomorrow for you either.”

“But–”

“I think you should listen to him,” Robin said as she returned followed by Chrissy and Steve to check on you.

Standing became a labor. You braced yourself against the counter but Eddie caught you and lifted you into his arms. Robin opened the door for him as he carried you to your bed. Everything was starting to blur together. Somehow they made you take the medicine. You’re pretty sure Robin helped you change into some pajamas before you passed out on top of the comforter. That night you had your first dream of Eddie.

The next morning… afternoon? You weren’t sure until you blinked your eyes open. You felt awful. Your skin felt like it was on fire. If you were still running a fever that was not a sign. As soon as you summoned enough strength you ripped all your clothes off only to be horrified by what you felt on the bed beneath you. Your underwear, shorts and the top of the comforter were soaked. You brought your wet hand up to your face to inspect the source.

“Is that?” you spoke to the emptiness, “Slick?”

It should have been impossible. Everything you knew about biology was being thrown out the window and discarded to the wayside. Nothing made sense anymore. You had been and would always be a beta. And yet– your new and now ever present instincts told you otherwise. You were in heat.

Grasping at the shred of rationality that you regained, you tried to remember everything you’ve ever learned about heats. You knew a few things for certain. One, it was only a matter of time because you were lost to your desires and unable to think about anything except mating. Two, you needed food so that you didn’t have to leave your room again until it subsided. Last? Only omegas experience heats which means that only an alpha would truly make you feel better.

Tossing your wet clothing to the ground you wobbled naked like a newborn fawn towards your bedroom door. Dripping slick against your bare inner thighs as you tried to walk. You made it to the kitchen where, with fervent desperation, you dug through the cabinets for anything you could bring back with you. Then you went to Eddie’s room and without a second of hesitation opened the door. That was a horrible idea.

Where only the night before was just the scent of Eddie, now your brain was able to recognize it for what it was. Alpha.

Your knees buckled. It’s a miracle you didn’t fall over. Another rush of slick dripped from your aching hole. You didn’t have the luxury of considering whether he’d be upset that you were borrowing his clothes. You grabbed his leather jacket that he always wore outside of work from the bed and the few shirts that littered the floor. You could feel the fever returning. You needed to get back to your room.

—

Eddie didn’t want to leave you that morning. He peeked inside your bedroom before heading to work and you were sound asleep.

Robin had taken care of your obligations for you. She called your work and emailed your professors saying you’d be out for a few days with a fever.

Eddie knew he should just go back home because he wasn’t much use here today anyways. He’d already made a ton of mistakes thanks to his distracted brain.

“Munson!” Murray called to him from the office, “Come here boy!”

“Shit,” he tossed the rag in his hand and readied himself for an ass chewing.

Murray looked up from the desk, “What’s wrong with you today? You handed me an order form for the wrong part. You charged someone triple for a simple oil change and now I just watched you checking the engine on a car that was brought in for headlight repair.”

“Sorry sir, my roommate’s pretty sick right now and I guess I’m just a little worried about her,” a little worried was an understatement. Eddie was panicking that you, the absolute divine love and light of his life, were going to die in his absence.

He sighed, “Just go. Before I change my mind.”

Eddie tore at the buttons on his coveralls and nearly tripped trying to walk and take them off at the same time, “Thanks Murray!”

“You owe me!” was the last thing Eddie heard before he ran out.

He kicked the stand up on his motorcycle and got quite a few stares from people on the street and he hauled ass back to the apartment.

Normally he’d take the elevator up to your fourth floor apartment but in his mind his feet were faster and they’d carry him to you sooner. He was so focused on checking that you were still ok that he didn’t even feel winded after running up four flights of stairs.

He fumbled with his keys as he walked down the hallway. Then it hit him. He dropped the keys. They clattered loudly to his feet. He was still several doors down from yours and he could already smell it. He scrambled to pick them up and ran down the hallway.

His suspicions were confirmed as soon as he turned the key. That same sweetness that had greeted him everyday since the first time he opened that door to your smiling face, suffocated him. Though now it was a little different. It was sweeter. More you. Something he’d only ever dreamed of. An omega.

It got stronger with every step he took towards your room. He swallowed and failed to will away the hardness growing in his pants. All his hopes and dreams were answered when he pushed his way into your room. There on the bed in a very haphazardly constructed nest, naked, clinging to his jacket, surrounded by his clothes, and your brown stuffed bear, was you.

He inhaled deeply and could practically feel his pupils dilate with lust. You smelled so fucking good. He took another step and spoke quietly trying not to startle you, “Hey sweetheart.”

—

It hurt so bad. The ache between your thighs only worsened as you curled into the small nest you’d surrounded yourself with. The underwear you’d stolen from Eddie lost its scent long ago but you still pulled it out and threw it in the pile. The few items you were able to grab from his room were a mere wooden board in the dam against the rushing river that threatened to drown you at any moment.

You didn’t hear the front door open.

Your senses became more clouded with each passing minute. You clung for dear life to Eddie’s leather jacket but it betrayed you as it started to cling back now that it was damp with your sweat.

The click of your bedroom door knob alerted you and brought you back. Maybe it wasn’t the door. Maybe it was the smell or the sound of his voice as he spoke to you. You lifted your head and couldn’t stop the tears when you saw Eddie standing there at the foot of your bed.

“A-alpha? It hurts,”

Something awoke within Eddie. The deepest part of himself he’d never been able to fully satisfy. All those ruts spent uselessly humping into his hand or a pillow. “Again,” He growled, “Say it again little one!”

Your eyes pleaded with him as you whined, “A-alpha?” You pressed the jacked to your chest. How was he here? He was supposed to be working. Your fever must have taken over you and you were starting to hallucinate, “F-fuck, alpha, need you. Are you really here?”

The bed shifted, “I know, I know. I’m here now, sweet omega. I’m here.” He laid behind you and wrapped his long arms around you. “‘m so sorry I left sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere now.”

His presence eased the ache a bit. He rubbed your neck with his hand and whispered in your ear, “You smell so good, could smell you from the hallway.”

He felt you shudder with panic, “R-really?”

“Shh! No, don't worry. I locked the door and only other alphas or omegas would be able to smell it,” he leaned in closer, “Can I kiss you? It might help you feel better.”

You nodded but didn’t feel anything on your lips. He kissed your neck. Sparks of pure pleasure shot through your body. You whimpered helpless against the feeling, “Fuck more Eddie! More! Kiss me more, please!”

He couldn’t deny that his heart had wanted to hear those words since he first laid eyes on you but he knew it was just the heat talking. He also knew if he started he wouldn’t be able to stop, “I want to more than you know princess but, I don’t want you to hate me when you're more lucid.”

His kiss had breathed new life into you and gave you the energy to turn to face him, “I’d never hate you Eddie.” You reached into the piled up fabric that you had built up around you and pulled out the green plaid boxers, “D’you lose something?” you could feel your speech slurring.

“D-did you take my underwear?” his fingers curled and tickled against you lightly drawing out little giggles.

You grinned up at him with glassy eyes, “Sure did. Sniffed ‘em too.”

His palm came to rest on your hip and he ran his fingers up the curve of your waist. Then back down again. Savoring every dip, ridge, and shape your body created as it lay before him, “Did they help you feel better?”

“Nuh uh,” he was misunderstanding, “I took these a while ago. So see? Wouldn’t hate you. Want you.”

He kissed you again, on the lips this time, “I want you too. Shit, you taste so good. I wonder how you taste other places.”

He pressed his elbow up, giving him leverage to sit up and tear his shirt off. Next he was up hovering over you on his knees. You watched him, taking in every single one of his movements. He unzipped his pants and slid them down his hips. His thick length was barely contained by the fabric of his boxers. He was less than graceful as he shook them off.

He straddled your legs and lowered himself towards your neck again, so close to your skin that his chest grazed your exposed nipples as he turned you to rest on your back beneath him. His mouth was in your ear whispering, “I can see it in your eyes sweetheart, the heat is getting worse. Can you tell me what you need before that smart ass brain of yours is just mush, begging for my knot?”

“F-fuck me Eddie,” you looked up at him and knew even in your current state that your words had affected him. “P-please.”

“That’s all I needed to hear sweetheart,” he kissed you again. First on the lips. Devouring your moans, wet noises growing as you felt yourself drooling into him because of how good he tasted. Your slick lips gliding against his. He moved lower onto your neck and kissed the crook just above your shoulder, “This might be a little sensitive here but I promise it’ll feel good.” He sucked on your skin and in that instant you were writhing.

“Ah! A-alpha,” somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind you knew that he was sucking on the spot that both of your latent instincts told you was where he should bite down and bond himself to you. Where if he gave into his desires and bit down just a little harder you’d forever be his and only his. Bearing his mating mark for the world to see. As he continued sucking with just his lips and licking with his tongue that was suddenly all you ever wanted, “Mate me alpha! All yours, please!”

He puffed out his chest. His shoulders flexed. The muscles in his back tightened as he growled again into your neck. Straining to fight off every instinct that told him to give you what you wanted. His hand gripped the wooden frame of your bed so tightly you heard the wood begin to splinter and crack. “Maybe after your heat sweetheart. Such a good girl, my sweet little omega, all these big new feelings. Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Throwing your head back you let the dam break, “N-need your knot alpha, Hurts. Make it stop.”

“You’re not quite ready for my knot yet baby. Gotta make sure I don’t hurt you.”

But you were an omega? That’s literally what your body was made for, why couldn’t you take him? First he wouldn’t mate you and now he won’t knot you? Were you a bad omega? He sensed your distress in the subtle change in your scent. He buried his face into your neck again, surrounding you with himself.

“You’re not bad! No no,” you didn’t even realize you’d said that out loud. He continued to soothe you, “It's just…I’ve never knotted anyone before and I don’t want to hurt you.”

You brought your hands up to his chest and touched him everywhere your fingers could reach, “Won’t hurt me. I know. Too gentle.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of you. The weight of his body pressing into nearly every surface of your skin was intoxicating. Grounding you with his scent and his very presence. You’d pulled him into the perfect position to nuzzle into his neck and hair, kissing the same spot that he has just assaulted on you with his tongue. A warm feeling bubbled in your gut. This was different from the warmth of the heat. Then a sound hit both of your ears.

A sound that gave both of you delighted pause. The little noise that escaped your throat was somewhere between a whimper and a moan but something so uniquely omega. Eddie had never heard a more beautiful sound. You were purring.

He let you keep going but whispered into your ear, “You’re fucking perfect you know that?” you purred louder, “I’m going to make you come with my fingers and then I’ll give you my knot, ok?”

“Yes alpha! Thank you,” you whined as he pulled away but his hands never stopped touching you. He made his way down to the drenched area between your thighs.

“You look so beautiful for me sweetheart, you’re fucking soaked,” he moaned as his fingers began toying with your wetness and dipping in between the folds of your pussy. You encouraged him with all the moans and whines he could ever hope to hear. As soon as he deemed you thoroughly worked up, he finally slipped a finger in, quickly followed by another. They worked together pumping in and out fluidly, curling inside you, pressing all the right buttons. You wanted to thank him but all that would come out was broken bits and pieces of alpha and his name.

His hair brushed lightly against your inner thighs, sending shivers through your core as he lowered his head down. He spoke with a low hum right into your entrance, “You’re close. I can feel it. Let go for me sweet omega. I’ll take good care of you.”

One more curl of his fingers hitting that delicious soft spongy spot inside you had you screaming and convulsing as slick rushed out into his hand and surely getting some on his face. His fingers pulled out and were replaced with something wet and soft. You could feel his nose nudging at your aching clit as he licked up all your wetness with his tongue. It slid up from the hole and flicked your clit over and over again causing the muscles in your calf to twitch.

“K-knot alpha! Knot please, ‘m ready. So empty, hurts!”

He sucked on your clit before pulling away and lifted to release his throbbing cock from his boxers. You looked up at it, marveling at how impressive his length looked. The tip swollen and aching for you just as you ached for him. The shaft veins pulsed as he pumped himself with his wet hand, covering it in your scent and juices. The base just barely began to flare out as his knot already started to swell. He lined up the tip with your begging cunt and teased you as much as his self control would allow before slowly and carefully pressing all the way inside.

You cried out for him, “So good! More, more, more! Move alpha please!”

He couldn’t hold back anymore. Feeling his cock sheathed inside his omega’s pussy was too much. He began fucking into you with reckless abandon, each thrust hitting deep within your body, catching ever so slightly as his knot continued to swell. He grunted loudly, “Fuck! “M’gonna fill you up so good little omega. Gonna breed this beautiful pussy,” his instincts were now fully in control. His mind became almost as clouded as yours with nothing but want and desire to fulfill the purpose of your heat, “You’ll look so good knocked up sweetheart. Tits all big and heavy. My omega, mine!”

You echoed him, “Yours alpha! All yours! Breed me, wanna carry your baby! Please, please please,” you cries became so desperate and emotional as you begged and pleaded for him to give you something you’d wanted as long as you could remember. Tears fell from your tired eyes, “Make me a mommy alpha!”

“Yeah?” he looked down at you. Beads of sweat from his constant thrusting formed on his forehead. His bangs curled and swooshed out in every direction, “Beg for my knot again omega, tell me how much you want it!”

Your body was jostling up and down from his thick cock fucking into you harder and harder. Your senses became overwhelmed with the feeling of your alpha’s cock, his scent, his words, his love all around you. You could feel how much bigger his knot had gotten, your voice was wrecked, “Knot alpha, need it, knot me!”

Eddie came with a loud growl. You’d never felt so full. Your walls pulsated around him as you came again. He slammed his knot deep inside you, locking you together with him, forming a connection that as you floated down from your orgasm fully took shape in your mind.

“Eddie?” you looked into his warm brown eyes, “Th-thank–”

“Shh, we can talk later baby. Rest while you can,” he held a finger to your lips, “Once my knot goes down I’ll get you some water and something to eat. You’ll need it again soon so we both need to rest.”

Being locked together with him felt so right but it limited your movement. Twisting your torso you looked around the nest for the box of granola bars you’d grabbed earlier, “I,” words were still hard and your breath was labored, “box here somewhere.”

He looked around and spotted the corner of the box on the floor. He pictured what you must have done when you realized what was happening to you, knowing what you’d need, “You did such a good job. Now it’s my turn, we’ve got a long few days ahead of us. My first rut lasted three days.”

You chuckled, eyes closed, a blissful fucked out smile on your lips, “W-we might need more food.”

“I’m not leaving you again, I’ll have Rob drop some stuff off.”

You didn’t talk anymore after that. In fact you fell asleep with his knot still inside you. He kissed your forehead before pulling out when it finally went down, “Sleep my little omega.” He left the nest just long enough to text Robin and his boss, updating them and then curled up behind you, rubbing his face into your neck again. Picturing how good your throat would look with his mating mark on it before falling asleep beside you.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #Alpha Eddie Munson #omega reader #Alpha Eddie x Omega Reader #omegaverse

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fungalittleweirdo · 2 months

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Yandere Rise Donatello Designer AU

okay, hear me out.

let me give context for this concept idea first (you could skip the next paragraph if you don't care, i'm just weird, i promise i start discussing the concept right after this next paragraph trust me)

i am a huge fan of this one designer in new york, bella pietro, her work is amazing. i was able to attend her bridal line debut fashion show in person this past sunday and got to speak with her very briefly. she's very lovely, relatable, super down to earth, and humble. she is also one of the influences for my own jewellery line, but this isn't the point i'm making, i'm going insanely off topic. i thought about what it would be like being a clothes designer in nyc.

donatello is the founder and ceo (at least, that's canonically what i'm led to believe) of Genius Built Technologies. it's also canon he designs Genius Built Apparel. i initially had this idea and shared it on discord a while back based around donnie being a member of a discord server with other designers. these designers usually joined said server for creativity, support, sharing each others' work, and giving critiques when wanted.

imagine you, an up-and-coming designer, join this server to gain more reach. while donnie was bored looking at others' designs and critiquing them harshly when asked to, he admired your work and advocated for you so that you could gain more popularity. the two of you accepted each other's friend requests and started talking in dms. he admired your work and thought it was cute how you were slowly rising in the industry, but you needed the right connections to actually get things going. you started getting seamstresses and a manager, but that took your time away from donnie.

donnie might have found out you lived in new york, that was when he suggested a meet-up for a collaboration. he was excited when you said yes, and a GB Apparel x For You line was in the works for when the two of you started discussing potential pieces. your crew got a little upset when you put all your attention on the collaborative project, especially your manager, and they thought it was a bad idea. you thought about listening to them and backing away to work on the collab line in the future. donnie... didn't really like that.

he loved spending time with you, as hard as it was for him to admit it. he adored the way you drew your designs, the face you made when you focused and shrimped over your tablet to get the details just right. he told you to adjust your posture, and you did it with a stretch, you ran your fingers through your hair he so badly wanted to run his fingers through instead. donnie hated the thought of having that taken away from him. once you told him you wanted to file away the collaborative project for another time, he managed to manipulate and gaslight convince you into believing your manager has the wrong idea, because his own brand was well known and high quality.

you hesitantly agreed with him and your crew began getting a distaste for you when you arrived late to meetings, made decisions with poor judgement, and delayed your own projects in favour of working with donatello instead. what you didn't know is that donnie anonymously emailed them all to quit their jobs with you because you were practically not working with them anymore. your crew moved on to work with other local designers. you didn't think much of it, you were aware people in this business would come and go, they would find other people to work for and it's no big deal, because you could sew your designs yourself.

besides, donatello had been a big help, he lent you his sewing machines that literally sewed by themselves. your own fall line had been presented on a runway at a moderately sized venue, a team curated by donatello organised it as if he were your manager. everyone on the server the two of you met on barely showed their support at first, until you got incoming praises and compliments from everyone after donatello's worship of you was sent in the runway channel. you were unaware to the fact that donatello threatened everyone with their careers if they didn't support you.

everyone seemed beginning to dislike you, your fans acknowledged that it didn't seem to be you at fault because your head was still held up high, staying positive and thanking anyone who bothered to take a look at your collection. donatello was working behind the scenes to isolate you as much as possible. he didn't want anyone taking you away from him because you were his precious fashion genius, your ideas complement his. that's why GB Apparel x For You is going to rock the fashion world, he had thought, deep in his delusions of spending more time with you. one look at you and it had his heart beating out of his chest.

your workspace in his apartment was a mess, fabrics everywhere, sketchbooks and a couple tablets (courtesy of Genius Built Technologies) with plenty of space for designs and you sat on the floor with your hair a mess and new glasses (those were courtesy from donatello himself) on your face after staring at the screens for so long. the softshell simply watched you work, enamoured and savouring the way you find his apartment more comfortable to work in because yours is already so cluttered.

donatello was so proud to see the results of your collaboration, he kissed the top of your head and held you close. you've had affectionate friends before, but you had only intimately known donnie for a few months. sure, he was one of the turtles that saved new york years ago, not to mention his brand even climbed up the ranks for a place in paris fashion week alongside balenciaga and valentino... so you knew him... but you didn't ask for this. you used to have more friends, lovely colleagues. whatever happened to that ?

of course, once the collab line debuted in the spring you went back to work, you designed a men's fall line you thought would grab people's attention. it certainly snatched donatello's, when he called you frequently and realised you were parting from him to work on your own, it pissed him off. he wanted to know what you were hiding. you hesitantly let him in on a day when you were being interviewed by april for press, dressed up for photography and not for him. you're only for him, no one should see you except when you're beside him. he lashed out at you in front of april, upset that you weren't telling him your plans since the GB Apparel x For You collaboration, and april took notes of the drama. not for press purposes at all, but to tell his brothers.

you didn't see donatello for a while after that, to which you were glad. you felt a weight finally slipped off your shoulders as you rebuilt your community. people didn't know that donatello was the one at fault for your darkest moments. you rebuilt your community over the course of a year, making new connections and finally making it into new york fashion week all by your own efforts, not by donatello's.

it was when he showed up at your door everything went downhill again. he pushed his way back into your life, asking for a spring GB Apparel x For You line even though he already started on his own designs, incorporating style that you would add due to how well he already knew you. over the year he had been gone, he watched how you grew and connected with other people in the soho fashion scene. the thought made his skin crawl. it irked him to know you were out and about, perhaps having dinner with your new manager, or spending hours at a time with your new seamstresses after you threw out the sewing machines he so lovingly gifted to you.

all he wanted was to share his world with you, have you live in lavish luxury like you deserve. you said no. you already had ideas for your spring line which would be presented in london along with new york, you didn't have time to collaborate with him. donnie threw another tantrum in your apartment, this time feeling a lot more destructive. he threw your decorations everywhere, then held up some of your supplies to set them on fire. it scared you into submission, telling him yes, putting off your own projects to move into his apartment and get to working with him on the next collab line.

things were different this time. donatello was a lot more clingy, literally working alongside you as the two of you designed the thirty-piece collection, he made gentle suggestions and leaned in close, added and subtracted things on what you already drew. the two of you had ordered takeout sometimes and he would be the only one allowed to receive the food. you felt trapped. there was nothing you could do about it, just accept your fate.

you disappeared off the tabloids, no one knew where you went, not even april. donnie kept you away for his eyes only, wrapping his arms around you at every chance he got, nuzzling into your neck from behind as you tried to break through the parental locks donatello placed on your tablets. that won't work, darling, he said, a smirk on his face you could feel against your skin. it made you sick, your stomach churning at the thought that you might stay in your captor's arms forever.

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt writing #rise donatello #rise donnie x reader #rise donatello x reader #donnie x reader #donatello x reader #rottmnt x reader #yandere rise donnie #yandere donnie #no beta we die like gram gram #angst #dark content #jules' thoughts

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

Note

AITA for telling my roommate that they are being an inconsiderate jerk?

I (25f) moved in with her (28f) and her then bf (29m and related to me) two years ago. About a year and a half into living with them there was an indecent with her partner and he ended up being removed.

I asked her to give me a two month heads up if she ever wanted to move out as I am low income and priced out of the area we live in, so I would need more time to find a room mate.

She agrees and months go by and she says how happy she is to live with me. Then one day I am chatting causally with my landlords and they ask what my plans are for when my room mate moved out. They were concerned I hadn’t reached out to them as I only had 2 days to make a decision before I was locked into another month.

I reached out to my roommate (who was on the opposite work schedule to me) and asked what it was about and she just said “yeah sorry :( wanted to tell you in person”

I told her yes I understand that she needs a change but I had less then two days to figure out what to do.

She said she was sure I would be fine and when I said it was likely that I would need to quit my job and move home and not telling me was inconsiderate she told me to stop trying to guilt trip her into staying and if i was that upset she would come clean her own stuff out of the apartment.

Two weeks later I am i try to apologize to her about what I had said and she slammed her bedroom door in my face. The next day (the day I write this) I found she had replaced all the laundry detergent (including my own) to one that causes a severe allergic reaction that requires hospitalization to treat.

My mom tells me I’m being an asshole and I shouldn’t have called her inconsiderate. But AITA here?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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erodasfishtacos · 1 year

Text

Hurts Like Hell

prompt: first part of the ps au 😗 I hope you all enjoy

warnings: smut & angst, minors dni

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YN wasn’t nervous, she had never felt like that while performing in front of an audience or camera. She was confident in her curves and the beauty of her face, her quirky but sweet as honey personality.

She never thought she’d do porn - in all honesty but it was sort of a perfect storm when she broke up with her ex who she swore up and down was her soulmate that she was going to spend the rest of her life with and she got fired from her steady, reliable job that was getting her through graduate school.

The sudden lack of sex and money - well it made the most logical sense to her and once she realized how amazing the income was, she was hooked.

She was completely financially stable now, having paid off her school in full as well as her condominium with a pretty large amount in her savings.

YN mainly did cam work, making boatloads from private virtual shows and doing silly, basic things that got her tips generously.

She rarely did shoots with other actors, she wasn’t against having sex with strangers but she didn’t find that she enjoyed much either.

She knew she didn’t necessarily have to love it because it was her job but it almost made her stomach turn too much to want to do it.

The thing was, despite how many scenes (which wasn’t many) she’s had with different men and occasionally women, they could never make her come, or even get her wet enough where they wouldn’t have to use lubrication.

Nowhere close.

YN never got that tight burning feeling in the pit of her tummy that signaled she was about to feel a burst of euphoria that she craved.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t able to, she knew she wasn’t broken, and before this she wouldn’t have said that it was ever necessarily difficult to find release but it just didn’t happen like before.

Instead it always felt like a build-up to nothing, no matter how much they rubbed her clit or teased her nipples - nothing simmered to the surface and every experience had fallen flat.

It was the main reason that she did web shows and OnlyFans because at least she could guarantee that she could get herself off and not rely on anyone to do it for her and fail.

No one had ever made her come but her ex.

“You need to give me one more,” He huffed outbetween pants as he rolled his hips in perfectly to hit her spot, his thumb unrelenting in her swollen bud, “One more than I’ll run you a nice bath and cuddle you t’sleep like the lil’ pillow princess you are.”

“S’too much,” YN sniffles with a frustrated whine as she wriggled her hips forward to get more friction than away when it was overwhelming - fat tears down her cheeks and her core was positively pulsing.

He leans down, damp forehead against her as he makes direct eye contact - not slowing his hips one bit before he’s gritting out, she was feeling every inch of how thick he was, “You know your safe word. Either use it or shut the fuck up and come on me again, you little brat.”

YN is embarrassed to admit those words toss her straight over the edge as she lets her final, weak orgasm wrack through her body - thighs twitching and center throbbing as her back arches up into his strong chest.

He follows right after, slowing down to a more manageable speed as he’s pressing his puffy pink lips all over her face, kissing the tears and licking at the salty wetness, humming out soft praises.

“So so sweet, melt right under me, darlin’. Never had someone so perfect for me,” He murmurs against her temple before moving to her jaw, “I’m going t’keep you forever. I’m so in love with you, baby.”

“I love you more,” She manages out weakly, hand coming to brush his damp curls off his forehead as he collapses playfully on top of her and she doesn’t complain, kissing his neck and massaging his back as he groans in a different type of pleasure.

“Impossible,” He titters with a frown, rolling off the bed and pulling her towards the bathroom, “I love you more than anything that has ever existed. I love you the most.”

YN wasn’t quite prepared for the scene today but rarely did she need to read a script on the set of a porno, everything was ad-lib anyways and usually there weren’t many words anyways - just obnoxious, exaggerated moans.

Instead she decided to laze around with Niall after she’d gone into hair and makeup, it’s a bedroom scene so it was all minimal with her hair pulled up into a loose messy bun and just a bit of blush to give the appearance of just waking up.

There was a twist of nerves in her stomach, she didn’t do this often and when she did, she usually wanted it to be over as soon as possible - it always crossed her mind multiple times before shooting that she could just go home, she didn’t need the money - OnlyFans was plenty but she was doing her manager a favor.

The breakup has been just freshly a year.

It still felt like an open wound, YN tried to go on a few dates but her heart belonged to her soulmate and it wasn’t fair to anyone else so she didn’t bother after multiple ones failed with hurt feelings.

Her heart, mind, and body still ached for him desperately.

It was an unexpected break-up that had flipped her life upside down in the worst ways possible, she wished she could be living in that naive bliss with him, and that they built the life together that they had originally planned.

Before she realized he had cheated.

It had started with him snatching his phone out of her hands when she picked it up to check the weather, in the four years they’d been together - he had never done that before and it made her brows furrow.

He had denied that it was anything like that, it was that he was buying a present for her, and he didn’t want her to accidentally see it - she was skeptical but he’d never given her reason before and she’s able to shrug it off.

Then he changed the passcode to his phone.

When she got suspicious, he got defensive and told her there was nothing to worry about - that she needs to relax and let it go before changing the subject like she didn’t just raise a red flag.

She arrives home from classes a bit early as soon as she walks in the door, he’s quickly hanging up his phone call and shoving the cell into his inner suit pocket - when she asks who he’s talking to, he says his mum but then why’d he hang up like he didn’t want her to hear the conversation?

Then the icing on the cake, she had been walking home from the gym one night, passing the front of a restaurant - he had told her that he had to work late at the office because of some type of merger and to not wait for him to go workout with her like he usually did.

Mindlessly, she glances through the window as she walks past but is skidding to a halt when she notices a familiar face in the dimly lit building and does a double-take to make sure her eyes aren’t deceiving her.

It’s her boyfriend.

But he has company.

He’s sitting in a booth with a woman across from him, she’s definitely older than him but not out of the realm of possibility that they could be on a date - secluded in a both to the far left with wine glasses in fron to them.

YN felt it in her bones that this was the woman, the other woman - she somehow felt hurt by the age of the lady, she had to be ten to fifteen years his senior, was that what his type really was?

She manages to get her feet moving before he would have the chance to glance up and notice her - she nearly runs back to their shared apartment with angry tears running down her cheeks as she finds a sticky note on the fridge that says ‘love you darling x’.

It’s his one opportunity to come clean.

And she wasn’t going to forgive him then either but god, she just wanted the truth from him - YN had always, always been honest with him, even when it was hard, even when it was embarrassing. She thought he’d always done that same but it felt like a knife to her heart that this was unraveling.

YN sits her bum on their kitchen island, waits and waits for him to come over from his date with someone who’s not her.

It makes her want to cry when her phone buzzes and his name pops up with an ridiculous amount of emoji hearts after it.

Be home in ten. I love you, sweet girl. Missed you all day x

“Fucking liar,” She hisses through clenched teeth, wiping harshly at the tears that are falling without her permission, and slamming her phone down against the marble hard enough that she would not be surprised if her screen cracked.

She zones out as she ponders the possibilities of how this conversation will turn out, there was a numbness already sweeping through her body, as a protective measure because her body couldn’t even acknowledge the hurt.

She doesn’t even register the front door unlocking and opening.

Not until he’s in the kitchen, dropping his jacket over the barstool, and smiling so fucking fondly at her, “Hi darlin’, your allergies acting up again? I told you that the off brand just doesn’t work for you. Your eyes are swollen.”

It was aching how beautiful he was, his face was soft and open with deep dimples decorating his cheeks, his eyes twinkling and happy, and he’s stepping towards her with his tattooed arms outreached.

YN bats off his hand when he reaches to thumb at her cheek, confusion wrinkling his forehead because she can’t remember a time where she’s every denied his touch like she just did, she seethes out, “Don’t act like you fucking care.”

He’s clearly startled by her hostility, lips turning down when he asks with an offended edge, “Why wouldn’t I care? What’s gotten into you, hm?”

It’s like he’s not sure whether she’s playing or not because sometimes she would be short, act like a brat, just so that it could turn into a fun night of punishment and pleasure but even Harry knew that it wasn’t this - not by how rigid her body language was.

“I know your secret, what you’ve been trying to hide from me, and trying to act like I’m insane when I questioned you about it,” YN responds with her arms crossed, making it clear she doesn’t want any physical interaction, and he struggles to take a step back because it’s obvious how much he wants to embrace her right now.

And well, the look on his face is all the confirmation she needs - the confusion twists into surprise, shock swirling in his eyes, and something else that she wasn’t able to point her finger on but it almost looked like disappointment.

“H-how did you find out?” He stutters on the first syllable, his already deep voice somehow even more gravely, his accent accentuated, and she’s never heard him trip over his words before - his pouty bottom lip quivering a bit.

YN scoffs in disbelief, she regrets it but she chucks the glass next to her on the countertop at him and he manages to duck before it hits him - the facade of shock made her unbearably angry and she’s relieved the glass doesn’t hit him but feels a satisfaction when it shatters against their floor.

“I-Darlin’,” He tries to reason, hands out cautiously, and he swallows hard, “I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing.”

“Five fucking years down the drain,” YN lets the tears fall in a slow dance down her cheeks, letting them form into droplets on her jaw, “You fucking cheater.”

His jaw drops in disbelief, the softness in his face dissipating when he hears her words, “We are definitely not talking about the same thing. That’s for fucking sure. You think I’d cheat on you?”

“I don’t think, I know,” YN slips off the marble counter and avoids the broken glass - shattered into a million pieces on the ground, just like her heart, “Don’t ever, ever speak to me again. You knew what I went through with my parents when I was growing up. I trusted you because I told you how my dad’s cheating affected me.”

“You’re wrong,” He states bluntly, interrupting her and disregarding what she’s saying - his eyes hardening and his back becoming ramrod straight, tense and offended by the words.

“Who were you at dinner tonight with?” YN pressed with an unhappy smirk, “Who was the woman you were with? Is she the reason you’ve been hiding your phone from me?”

His lips draw in a tight line, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he stares her down.

No words though. Not quick enough. She wasn’t giving him more than three seconds to respond.

“That’s all I needed to know. This, this is done,” YN motions with her arms, her chest beginning to heave with the reality that the man she thought she would marry wasn’t going to be hers anymore.

That he was sharing himself with others.

YN is mentally hyping herself up for another round of sex that wouldn’t lead to anything, sure it was fine to mess around with someone but it more so filled the loneliness rather than the actual pleasure.

She felt pathetic that she was still so fucking love sick for her ex, that he’d ruined her so sustainably for anyone else in every faucet of the word, love, sex, friendship - it was destroyed.

“Hey, five minutes and we’re starting, let’s go,” Warren, the director, pops in his head with a final warning, meaning she needs to get her bum on set right now.

“Wish me luck,” YN chirps with fake enthusiasm to Niall, pinching his cheek until he bats her hand away and pushes her towards the door - he won’t watch, nor would she want him to.

“Have fun getting dick, I guess,” Her friend mumbles in his a monotone huff, giving her a look because he is supportive but doesn’t necessarily approve as he barely looks up from his phone.

After navigating the hallway to the bedroom set where she’ll be filming, she sees her co-star for the first time - well, the back of him, tall, towering over the others that he’s around.

He was faced towards Warren, most likely preparing, his shoulders were broad, muscles defined on every inch of his body but not obnoxiously, tapering off into narrow hips and lean but strong legs - bum small but still plump.

She would know that body anywhere, the way her heart drops to the floor tells her who it is before it connects with her brain but that doesn’t make sense does it?

She wonders for a brief second if she’s had a break with reality and she’s hallucinating.

YN can clearly, distinctly remember what that skin felt like under her fingers, the way his abdominal muscles twitched when he was close, how those long arms would encompass her, hold her through all the good and bad.

She was split between running for the hills, canceling the shoot, and purely only doing webcam business from here on out - it wasn’t worth the money but it was magnetic and her mind was fuzzy with wanting to just touch him.

Her other option, which her heart is proposing, is running straight into his arms, letting him brush his lips against her forehead as his fingertips dig into her hips but that probably wouldn't happen, would it?

Instead of either choice, her feet are cemented to the floor, she looked like a deer in headlights with wide eyes and trembling lips, shaking down to her fingertips with frozen fear.

“There’s our girl!” Warren announces happily when he sees her past her costar’s shoulder, tugging his headset off one of his ears as he smiles at his star and waves her over towards them.

The other man turns around, their eyes meeting for the first time in a year - the forestry green she loved so much met hers and recognition, confusion, anger crossed them in a span of mere seconds - his lips in a tight line but he doesn’t look angry as much as he looked disapproving.

Who is he to fucking judge?

They both don’t move automatically, staring at each other, and not knowing what to make of it - the tension was palpable between them and YN could feel it all the way to her bones.

Harry budges first, he always has as he takes the familiar long strides - just in a pair of tight briefs that hug him perfectly, hugging his thighs and highlighting the hard cut of muscle leading into the waistband, the familiar trail of sparse hairs that start at his bellybutton and travel down out of sight - she used to love to run her fingers over it and tease that spot before ducking lower.

Her eyes can’t help but dart down to his right upper thigh, her real name (not her stage name) was still inked permanently and dark into his tanned skin - she’d wondered if he had covered it by now but it was still in all of its original glory.

Warren is oblivious to anything out of the norm, he’s slapping Harry on the shoulder and telling YN with a wide smile, “Meet Axel. Axel meet Starlet, your co-star You two are going to make a hot fucking movie.”

It was comical, the faux anonymity, they knew everything about each other down to their blood type, first ever pet, and so they fact that they were being introduced as these corny fake names just makes it even stranger.

Harry puts his hand out to shake, YN hesitates with her chest still rising much too fast to be normal as she shakingly meets his, and she thinks she’s about to have a panic attack because right now, she can’t decipher up from down.

It hurts her, physically, to touch him again.

She loves him so much.

Present tense.

It isn’t fair that this is happening, she has always been loyal and good to him, and it feels like a punishment that she’s in this situation right now.

Warren gets distracted by another staff calling his name as they mess around with a tripod for one of the bigger cameras - there was a decent amount of people around for this shoot.

“Breathe,” Harry murmurs, hand still holding hers as he notices how elevated her breathing, his gaze is intimidatingly intense as he observes her, he knows that she’s panicking, “It’s okay, I promise I didn’t know. I can back out right now.”

YN for some reason doesn’t let go either, her eyes watering as she whispers, “Why are you here? Why are you doing…this?”

She couldn’t say what they were really doing, she wasn’t ashamed but it was boggling that he was here too - it wasn’t like either of them had a history of doing porn before their relationship.

Harry sighs, his free hand pushing his curls off his forehead, “The start-up I was working for went bankrupt and didn’t pay out my last three months worth of work as well as my commission. I had to figure out something to pay my bills until I can find a new job and a friend suggested this.”

“Then you need this just as much as I do. Clover Tech laid me and three hundred other employees off,” She replies, finally dropping his hand and awkwardly wringing her wrists - her nerves were tingling and she wanted to keep holding his hand.

Harry looks torn before he settles, “I know you don’t want to do this with me. I…I can do the shoot with the backup girl and split half of the check with you so you’re not out money.”

It’s so genuine that it makes her stomach churn, how could someone this sweet ruin everything by cheating.

“That’s…no. It’s fine unless you don’t want to,” YN trails off with a twinge of embarrassment at the thought he wouldn’t want to have sex with her because she obviously hadn’t been enough for him.

It had never been a concern when they were together, they were magnetic, and he was obsessed with getting his mouth, hands, anything on her whenever she would let him which had been often.

“Unless I don’t want to?” Harry prompts, not catching what she’s hinting at, fuck, he was so handsome she couldn’t think straight - his brow was furrowed and she could tell by his body language that he was stressed out.

“You know…have sex with me,” She mumbles lowly, eyes darting down to her feet for a moment but she soon realizes that Harrys waiting for her eye contact to speak because he doesn’t say anything until she sheepishly meets his gaze.

“Until you broke up with me. I was planning on only having sex with you for the rest of my life,” Harry rasps much too bluntly and without any regret in his eyes as he watches her, “I will never turn you down.”

“You can’t just say stuff like that,” YN scolds because it’s getting too emotional for a porn set and she shouldn’t feel like he’s telling the truth but because of how firm his tone is - the worst part is that she believes him and she shouldn’t.

Harry’s hand twitches like he’s about to reach out and grasp her jaw like he’d always done when he felt she wasn’t listening and she needed to, he’d bring her into his chest and whisper the words against her temple as he rubbed her hips.

“I’m telling the truth,” He states sincerely, hand moving instead to scratch at his bare stomach, “I’m only doing this on one condition. After we shoot, we need to talk. If not then I’m backing out and we’ll both be fucked for money.”

YN feels a bit of bitterness rise in her tone, who is he to make demands?

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.”

“Oh but there is. This time you're going to listen and not storm out of my life again,” His tone has anger behind it, an unusual occurrence because he was much better at staying calm then her.

“Fine, we can talk,” YN relents because deep down she really really wants to be intimate again and despite her mild protesting, her body is wired because sex with Harry means orgasm, good orgasms.

Not the ones by a vibrating massager or her fingers, he’s the only person who knows how to work her body like a fiddle until she’s a teary mess that doesn’t know if she wants more or not.

We - oh, fuck. H, we shouldn’t,” YN gasps into his mouth, she was panting already and he takes her plump bottom lip in between his teeth as his hand works under her dress with direct purpose.

“Tell me to stop then,” Harry challenged cockily, two fingers making her feel full as he curled them up to pet her spot that made her legs quiver against the countertop, his body keeping her upright.

She needs to tell him but she can’t find it in her because she doesn’t want him to stop, they were at his parent’s house for an anniversary dinner.

He had said he wanted to show her something upstairs but what really happened was he crowded her into a bathroom and yanked her dress down until her tits spilled out and his hand pushed her underwear to the side.

“Gonna tell me?” Harry prompts as his mouth ducks down to nip at her hard nipples, switching back and forth quickly, taking his time to move lower and suck bruises into the supple curve of her breast.

YN shakes her head, giving in to the pleasure, and letting her legs splay open against him, “Don’t want you to stop. You make me feel so good, baby.”

It was a bit too sweet for the situation they’re in but it makes Harry crack a fond, boyish smile as he stands straighter to kiss her again but it’s intimate and loving before whispering, “You’re my whole world, sweet girl. Always going to make you feel good. Now come on my fingers, baby.”

She’s snapped out of the memory by the director coming back over to where they’re standing tensely with a good amount of distance between them.

“Alright, now that you’ve met!” Warren claps his hands together, oblivious of anything out of the ordinary, “Time to get this show on the road. An easy scene, more romantic than raunchy. You’re a couple who are waking up for some morning sex. It’s that easy.”

YN honestly liked how Warren directed his films, there weren’t a million scene cuts or positions, he let the actors follow the natural rhythm and rarely had to redirect a shot - almost giving off a homemade vibe with studio quality.

She feels a sick mixture of anticipation and an oncoming panic attack, her palms are sweaty as she shucks her robe - leaving her in a oversize tee that falls to her mid thighs with a sheer pair of bikini cut panties under.

“Alright, YN right side. Slip under the duvet but make sure to turn on your side, left thigh out of the blanket,” Warren directed, once she’s laid down, he messes with the blankets until the curve of her bum and leg are on display - easy to shove off once they get started.

Harry follows as well, turning on his side so he’s spooned up right behind her, bum right in the cradle of his pelvis, and he’s already hard against her - it made her flashback to their mornings when they woke up together and had slow, giggly morning sex.

“Hard up for it?” YN murmurs quietly, she wasn’t sure if she was joking or if it was a jab at him - maybe both at this point because most men needed more to get hard to film than this.

“Considering I have dreams about your cunt nearly every night, can you blame me?” Harry whispers in her ear, ignoring the bustle of the people setting up, his hand splayed on her tummy, “You’ve lost weight. I don’t like it, missed grabbing on to you. Miss you filling my hands.”

“Everything’s been shit since we’ve broken up,” She admits shakily when his hand naturally starts to pet at the skin near the band only her panties - he was right, she had lost weight, not intentionally, but eating made her stomach churn most days.

“I know. It’s been hell,” Harry agrees with no judgment, it felt too comfortable to have him like this again, and she felt no discomfort as he traced her skin - thumbing at a scar she had on her hip that he always kissed.

It’s like they forget that they're here for a reason as Harry already tries to move the process along before they’re even rolling - he had always been impatient when he was horny and had no shame in his body during it.

YN gently grips his wrist when he tucks his fingers under the soft silk of her underwear to tease at her mound and shakes her head, “Not yet.”

“This goes against every instinct I have to let anyone watch you get fucked. The only way I can manage is to know that it’s going to me owning this body again. Has anyone made you come like I have, sweet girl?”

YN also missed this part too, he was by far the best talker during sex, everything he said sent an electric zip through her, and he had a mouth filthier than any sailor when he was on her.

“I’m-, yeah,” YN lies lamely, she can hear his warm chuckle as he palms her tummy once again and pulls her impossibly closer - she didn’t want him to have the power that he truly had over her.

“Are you telling me nobody’s made you come since we broke up?” Harry asks but he already knows the answer, “Know your cunt’s aching for me. You smell so good, m’mouth is watering. This is my first scene with another person, I’ve just been doing solo shit. You’re the last person I’ve touched.”

She shouldn’t feel satisfied at that but she does.

“You already know,” YN huffs out with an annoyed edge, she knows he has a cocky grin that makes his dimples pop boyishly - one of the first things she fell in love with and one of the things she missed the most.

“Quiet on set!” Warren announces to all the staff who are making small talk or any type of noise, he has a marker in his hand and starts now that all the noise has disappeared, “Mark. And Axel, Starlet, you're on.”

The lights are dimmed, to give the illusion of the sun barely kissing over the horizon, the bedrooms styled in a modern farmhouse vibe making it cozy and realistic, and the bed was surprisingly plush and comfortable.

YN closes her eyes to feign sleep as does Harry for a good minute before he begins to rouse with a deep inhale and a low groan as he stretches, his arms rustling above his head.

She can’t obviously see what he’s doing but instead feels when he leans forward to kiss the nape of her neck - it’s a jolt of shock because she’s missed it so much and it feels nice.

This all just seems like a fucked up fever dream.

“Sweetheart,” He murmurs softly, his hand moving up to tug the collar of her shirt off her shoulder so that his lips could make line from her ear to shoulder blade, “Wake up for me, baby.”

YN fakes a whiny grumble as she wriggles back into him, feeling his sharp intake of breath with the friction on his center, and she tilts her head to the side to give him more room to roam his lips along.

“Tired,” She complains brattily but it warps into a squeak when he nips the cap of her shoulder before soothing it with his tongue, back up to her jaw to suck a spot into her skin as he pulls her harder back into his groin.

“Please, darling,” Harry drawls against her skin, he kicks off the duvet to display their bodies, his hand moving to the hem of her shirt before slipping in and upwards against her warm skin, “I need you.”

His fingers raise goosebumps against her tummy before he’s cupping both of her breasts, hidden under her shirt but his thumbs come to her nipples - they’re already hard for him as he rubs them in lazy circles as his lips don’t stay still for a moment against her skin.

YN lets out a hurt mewl when he pinches at them before thumbing over the acute pain and easing it with softer touches - it was something intimate that he was hiding this from the camera, it was just them for a brief moment, “So desperate for me. Let’s get your shirt off, need to see these pretty tits.”

It scared her because it didn’t sound like acting, it sounded like how he talked when they were living together, when they were in their bed.

“Stop teasing,” She mumbles as she lets him tug the shirt over her head, his right hand moves to her mouth, tapping at her plush lips.

YN opens automatically and he presses two fingers inside her mouth, stroking at her tongue before taking them out to rub the sheen of spit on her nipples - he watches curiously as they pebble even more before pinching at them again.

“You’re so grumpy in the morning,” Harry hums with a hint of humor because it was actually true, she was not a morning bird at all.

“M’not grumpy,” YN disagrees, her voice hitching at the end when he gives a particularly hard tweak as they become more sensitive and taut, “Just want you to do something.”

“Do something,” Harry mocks in that deep, gravel accent before he’s kissing the hinge of her jaw and rasps, “Just remember, you asked for it. So desperate for my cock, it’s cute.”

Before she can bite back, Harry’s hand moves into the front of her panties, thick fingers sliding down her folds before two are tucking up right inside and curl against her velvet, warm walls.

He knew her body like the back of his hand because he’s petting her spot with precision like he remembered right where it was and how much pressure she preferred.

YN let out a loud, surprised moan.

It was authentic, really one of the first she’s ever let out that was real on set as her toes already begin to curl and she was struggling to keep her eyes open as electricity zipped through her.

“Did I find your spot, baby?” Harry asks innocently despite his actions, he’s grinding himself into her bum to get some relief as his thumb moves up to swirl on her clit with harsh movements.

“There, s’good,” YN gasps kittenishly, spreading her legs further to give him more room and beginning to roll her hips down onto his fingers, riding them without another thought, she wasn’t even registering the cameras anymore.

“Yeah, darlin’. I know all your sweet spots, hm? Hit ‘em just right to have you dripping down my hand like a good girl,” He praises before nipping at her jaw and twisting his fingers with a harsh, steady rhythm - he smelled so fucking good, like pumpkin spice and cedar, strong and heady - it made her dizzy with want.

“I-I’m cl-close, baby,” The pet name slips out as her muscles begin to tense, walls contracting against him, she doesn’t know if she’s ever come this fast, definitely not in a long time because it took her aback.

She missed it so much.

She missed him so much.

It felt like a sick joke to her to have to act out what used to be, what she missed, what she craved.

It was like groundhogs day but amplified by a million.

“Then fuckin’ give it to me. I’ve earned it yet? Soak my fingers, pet,” He encourages as he speeds up and presses down harder on her button - his bicep flexing deliciously, straining all of his strong muscles.

It has her tipping over the edge, it’s the first mind-numbing orgasm she’s had in a year and it’s with her cheating ex-boyfriend who she thought she was going to settle down with, house with a white picket fence, babies running around, and this was what she got instead.

Her eyes are squeezed shut as her body tremors through it, his hand slowing but not all together stopping either.

Her body was conditioned to respond to him and it gave in to him so sweetly that people watching this would be blind not to see - no one could act this well.

“Perfect, did just what I asked,” He hums as she comes down, he’s pulling the shirt off her head and tossing it to the floor before doing the same with her underwear.

His hand moved up her belly, leaving a damp trail in its wake from her wetness until he cups her breast, lips back to her neck with slow, wet kisses.

“Plea-please, H,” YN mewls as he pinches at her nipple but he punishes her with a nip, whispering in her ear, “No names, pet.”

It takes her a moment to realize her slip because she wasn’t fucking acting - she couldn’t even find it in her to be embarrassed.

She wanted to get her mouth on him before they got to the main event and so she’s wriggling out of his grip to turn and face him.

YN straddles his thighs, his big hands automatically coming to grip her hips - indenting enough to bruise and Harry looks vulnerable for the first time today.

His eyes are wider than usual, his lips parted, and his stomach was sucking in and out revealing his ribs before disappearing back into the strong muscle.

YN goes to shimmy down, he shoots up and grips her jaw hard, bringing their mouths back together in a hard kiss - her breasts pressing against his bare chest.

When she finally has a moment to pull back for a breath, Harry murmurs too low for the microphones to catch on, “Missed your perfect little mouth so much. If you even wrap those lips around me, I’ll come. Let me fuck you, darling.”

YN can do anything but nod, trying not to preen from the compliment - he squirms around for a moment as he shoves his briefs down his thighs and kicks them off his ankle.

God, she missed everything about him.

He was as pretty, thick, long as she remembers.

Her heart flutters when she spots the soft pinkish scar on his pubic bone a few inches up and to the left of his base - she’d forgotten about that.

“Bloody hell!” Harry yelps out in surprise, sitting up from the bed and looking down at his groin, “S’definitely not supposed to hurt that much.”

“You made sure this was meant for wax play right?” YN asks as she puts the candle back on the bedside table before examining the little blob of lavender wax on his pubic bone.

“I didn’t know there were specific candles!” Harry whines out as YN picks the wax off, a small bubbling blister already forming on his delicate skin.

“Baby,” YN chastised with a giggle and a shake of her head, “We better put some neosporin and a bandaid on this so it doesn’t get infected.”

“It hurts so bad, need you to take care of me,” Harry’s pouts as she disappears to get the supplies from their bathroom.

“How are you still hard?” YN laughs as he winces in pain as she gently dabs the medication on the wound and unwraps the bandaid.

“Don’t make fun of me,” He grumbles as he tries to hide a smile, his hand moving to rub her plushy hip, and his nose nudging at her cheek, “You constantly make me hard. S’gonna nearly be impossible for me to lose a stiffy around you.”

“Who said romance is dead,” She rolls her eyes but it’s fond and she can’t stop giggling because he just makes her so happy.

“Never going t’be,” Harry murmurs, sex voice one hundred perfect back in motion, now that he has a purple bandaid on his burn, and he’s leans forward to begin kissing her belly and his hands coming to knead at her bum.

The candle long forgotten.

She runs her fingers over the puffy skin where she had accidentally burnt him - she didn’t know why it made her eyes prick with emotion.

When YN glances up at him, Harry is watching her so intently as she traces over the memory - the moment doesn’t last for more than a minute but it moves in slow motion for her.

YN snaps out of it when she remembers exactly where she’s at and what she’s supposed to be doing right now - in front of cameras because this wasn’t an intimate moment, it was all for the cameras.

At least, that’s she’s telling herself to save her sanity.

Harry could always sense her mood, her emotion, and now is no different, and so he helps her get back on track, asking, “C’mon, darling. You want my cock? S’aching for you.”

“Please, want it,” YN agrees as Harry adjusts their position, his length sliding between her folds and it has him tilting his head back and moaning - it was loud and beautiful, deep but at the same time desperate as his hips twitch up.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry hisses as he grips his base to paint the tip through her folds, teasing at her entrance before moving up to smack the weight of it against her swollen clit - repeating that cycle a few times as he mouths at her nipples.

“Stop teasing,” She huffs out in frustration because she wants him in, she wants to come again, but at the same time, she never wants this to end - this right here is what she thought she would get for the rest of her life.

“Spoiled thing,” Harry chastises as he guides himself in, hands moving to her hips and pulling her down all the way onto him until she’s settled, it makes her feel so full, Harry must agrees because he’s groaning, “Darling, s’tight. Fuck, you feel good. Best thing I’ve ever had.”

It didn’t feel like he was lying.

“Ride me, baby,” Harry encourages as he leans back against the headboard, his strings hands moving her hips back and forth in a grinding motion, harsh circles that made her stomach tense, “Show me what a good girl you are.”

She wanted to show him what he fucked up, what he gave up.

YN rises up on her knees, pulling herself nearly off of him until his tip is just kissing at her core before sliding on the way back down, slow and purposeful as her hands move to cup her breasts.

“Stop tha’,” Harry scolds possessively, knocking her hands away and moving to grab them himself, fingers pinching at her nipples in the exact way she liked it, “Am I not doing good enough or are you just too greedy for your own good?”

YN lets out a wet mewl, falling forward until her chest is pressed against his, her forehead resting on his shoulder, “S’good, you’re so good. H, you’re so good, baby.”

Harry shushes her softly, wrapping his arms around her tightly and pulling her into his chest as close as possible before he’s thrusting up into her with full force, the sound of skin meeting echoing through the room as he kisses the side of her face.

“God, I’ve fucking missed you,” Harry whispers in her ear, just for her, he’s panting as he exerts energy into fucking her, kissing her, hugging her, and YN falls off the edge for another orgasm, sobbing in pleasure into his neck, “That’s it, that’s fuckin’ it, pet.”

He only thrusts up a few more times before he’s coming, keeping her still, deep in his lap as he works through it, lips moving to just press against her temple as he slows his hips and relaxes back more.

YN kept her head tucked against him, her cheeks were wet from tears, from a mixture of her multiple orgasms and heartbreak - she was sniffling and didn’t want the cameras to see this.

Harry hears the sniffle, the way her breathing is stuttered from trying to hold it back, and he’s looking up at the room of people, “Cut it. We’re done.”

The camera crew apparently doesn’t halt filming as quickly as Harry has asked and so he’s raising his voice loudly, “I said fucking cut it. Turn off the goddamn cameras. The scene’s over.”

Warren is coming over, a genuine concern on his face, “What’s going on? Is she hurt?”

The question offends Harry, he barks out, “I didn’t fucking hurt her. She’s okay. I got this.”

YN nods, muttering “I’m fine.” And wanting everyone else in the room to disappear.

Harry’s rustling them around a bit, having pulled out by now, and is shoving her big tee shirt back over her head to cover her up before moving them until he can wriggle her underwear and his back on.

“YN,” Harry’s voice is softer than when he was ordering everyone around a minute ago, “Baby, I need you to breathe. Everything’s okay. You’re okay.”

“You’re okay,” Harry coos as he holds her to his bare chest, “Everything’s okay.”

The water was cascading down on them, hot and steaming up the bathroom, as they stood under it - just embracing, unsure of how long they’ve been in there.

“I miss her,” YN cries into his chest, her chest hurt from how much she’d been crying - her eyes were swollen and sore, “It doesn’t get easier. I can’t believe it’s been two years. It feels like yesterday.”

“It does,” Harry agrees solemnly, he still remembers the day her mother was diagnosised with cancer, “I miss her too. She was an amazing woman. And she gave me you, the love of my life.”

“I couldn’t do this without you,” She says honestly, goosebumps prickling her skin even despite the temperature.

“Never have to do it without me,” Harry replies as he reaches to turn the water a little hotter, “S’a promise baby.”

“I’m fine,” YN spits out a bit harshly, shoving his hands off of her - he doesn’t get to comfort her like this when he fucking cheated on her.

She wishes she regret what she just did but she didn’t, however she needed a minute to breath and so she’s sliding off the bed and straightening out the shirt.

YN knows she’s running away but she doesn’t get far before Harry’s fingers are curling around her wrist and stopping her.

“Hey. We had a deal,” He reminds her firmly, his lips in a tight line - she has to ignore the blossoming hickeys she left all over his neck and chest, “We’re gonna talk.”

“Yeah,” YN lies breathlessly, “I really need to pee. Come to my dressing room in fifteen minutes?”

“Okay, m’going to shower real quick then,” Harry agrees, squeezing her wrist once more before he’s turning to go back to his dressing room.

YN is whipping open the door in a panic, “For fucks sake, Niall. We have to leave now.”

“Everything okay?” He asks from where he’s still lounged on the couch, “Do I need to kick someone’s arse?”

“I just did a scene with Harry,” YN whisper-shouts, tugging on her leggings and jamming her feet in her tennis shoes, “Let’s go.”

“Bloody hell,” Niall’s eyes go wide, he has so many questions but finally gets some urgency, shoving her shit into her duffle before swinging it over her shoulder and guiding them out the emergency exit.

Harry can’t seem to catch his breath on the shower, hard choking sobs wracking through his body as his forehead rests against the ceramic.

And he can’t stay in here much longer because she’s waiting to talk, he doesn’t know where to begin, how to apologize.

He’s tugging on a tee and running shorts before making his way back to her dressing room, his hands shaking with nerves - the confident pornstar long gone.

When he knocks, he doesn’t hear anything, and so he twists the knob, the room empty of anything beside the furniture - making it clear she was long gone.

“Fuck,” Harry hisses before punching his fist against the wall.

He wasn’t going to let her get away twice.

#pornstar!harry #pornstar!au #harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #file

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heartfeltlonging · 1 year

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Sensitive... (König)

First time writing smut (like ever) so constructive criticism is greatly appreciated and welcomed! I could not get over a post that was basically just shy Konig getting a hand job for the first time (the comments made me feral) If I find it again, I will tag them. I wanted to indulge a bit and try my hardest!

Warning: virgin!König, gn!reader, reader pov, overstimulation, handjob, dubcon? (reader continues after he says that he can’t take it) If I miss any warnings/tags feel free to let me know!

Wrote this, maybe proof read twice, going to sleep now, hopefully it works out.

Listen dude, you know what you should and shouldn’t be reading at your age. I can’t stop you but just don’t interact, have a deserved day!

Smut incoming…

There’s no telling how you managed to end up in this situation. Your boyfriend pinned under you as your hungry kissing caused a bit of a problem. You didn’t expect your small touches to cause the bulge in his pants. You watch amazed at the little effort it took to make him so worked up. The tall, hulking, giant of a soldier, so easily speechless by a simple kiss? After realizing what you were looking at, he started to stutter profusely.

“I don’t know what happened, you just, your hand, and your lips and voice and-” You shut him up by touching him through the pants, the tent stirring. Taking your time as you feel the length. Giving him one last kiss you move to your knees, unzipping his pants and pulling them down. He lifts his hips up just slightly to help you remove his clothes. You start slow when you feel him, getting used to the weight in your hand. Seeing him clench his teeth at the slight friction, the realization hits you.

Oh.

You can feel his early arousal on your hand, his pre starting to leak and spill. It’s so sensitive that the tip starts to take on a hot red color, his need becoming more and more obvious. You keep on stroking, swiftly and skillfully until he’s nothing but whimpers. You move your hand to the top, thumb rubbing his slit and then it happens… his cock twitches against your hand. You can’t help the stupid grin that comes to your face at the sight of it. Starting to stroke him again you make sure to spend extra attention to the tip, repeating your movements over and over.

Not even minutes, hell, not even seconds later you see him tense up and then feel it. His warm seed starts to cover your hands (and you best bet it’s a lot) Looking up at him, you see his face turn an even darker shade of pink. He tries to cover it, hands pressed against his flush cheeks “Didn’t mean to- your hand- when you- it felt- felt so good” His words are slurred and his embarrassment laced into his voice.

“It’s alright König, I’m glad I could make you feel good!” You hum contently as you look at his cock. So pretty… so needy,,, so sensitive Lost in thought you start to stroke more. You can hear his shock as he lets out a loud gasp and the whimpers start to fill your ears once more. Your movements are deliberate and filled with purpose as you continue.

“Please, it’s too much! I can’t take it anymore…” He moans out, gripping at the sheets underneath him. Despite his words, he makes no attempt to pull you off. Hips starting to thrust into your hand slightly, eyes rolling back and breathing deeply.

“I’m not finished with you sweetheart, want to milk this pretty cock, want everything you can give me” You meant what you said, making him finish at least three more times before peppering him with kisses. Simple praise leaving your lips as you clean him up. “Such a good boy for me König~ Did such a great job~” You coo as you run the washcloth over his relaxed thighs and soft cock.

His inexperience shining through as his eyes gloss over from your kind words, mind blank as he just watches you. Such a small gesture meaning so much to him, just because he’s never had this before. Watching your sweet movements, the way you care for him, and the way you take your time with him. Once you’re finished he’ll lay on top of you. Cuddled into the blankets as you two fall asleep in each others warmth.

#konig smut #konig mw2 #konig x reader #cod mw2

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birdsnout · 6 months

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My Family and I Are Facing Eviction:

(I posted about this on Insta, and I've decided to crosspost here. Read below the cut for info on the situation)

TLDR: we are being evicted after just a 1 year and 7 months in our new apartment and exhausted our resources during our last move. So, support of any kind is endlessly appreciated. I'm keeping my commissions open (link in bio along with my Ko-Fi), but the wait time is N/A. My close friend and I will be hosting a Rise themed Kickstarter as another option for those who want to support and get something in return for their kindness.

You may comment or DM questions 💜

(BTW, our landlord owned our old unit too and rumor has it, he’s evicted many other low income tenants like us in the same time span...)

As a low income household, it hits hard. Government aid has kept us afloat as my mom and I attended college full time. It was especially important when our lifestyle had to adapt to my little sister's Mitochondrial disorder diagnosis (it's serious, lifelong and deserves a Google search), and my mother's autoimmune diseases.

We need the aid until my mom settles into a job post graduation and we sort out whether I can be registered as a home aid for my sister. (I went on break from college to help my mom after an invasive shoulder surgery she had in Feb. Financial, college and family health issues are why I’ve extended it.)

Unfortunately, setting up a Crowdfund isn't easy for us. I've researched and it can’t be tied to a bank account in our household. Thankfully, my friend @Mimunaii has offered to help, but because I’d feel wrong not giving back somehow, the Crowdfund will be a Kickstarter. (Regular donations also don’t seem against aid rules).

Reaching out like this on social media is a last resort as I've struggled to find any other options to help with this very serious and stressful situation. Just sharing this post is enough, and no donation is too small for us to be grateful for as we try to save and keep up with bills/costs our aid doesn’t cover. The Kickstarter will be another way to help, but give you something in return for your kindness 💜 (Pet supply wish lists are also linked in my Beacons)

To those who are interested in commissioning me, please be aware that my comm wait times are funky. I thought my break would be calmer compared to 2022 (besides that year's abrupt move, there was also a vet emergency and health scares), but so much has happened in my personal life.

It’s honestly been a struggle mentally and has effected my productivity. However, I am still putting 110% into what I draw for all of my generous clients, and will always do so.

Thank you so much for reading 💜

#myart #commissions #commissions open #emergency #please boost #rottmnt #rottmnt ocs #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles

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yurrfttboyy · 1 year

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My big brother’s best friend Anthony had been around my whole life. He was as straight as my brother, a total gym rat who’s primary interest was video games and puss*. I don’t remember when exactly, but at some point I started stealing whiffs of Anthony and my brothers rank shoes when they would be in the basement playing video games. He would come over at least 3 nights a week and they’d just spend hours down there gaming and talking about chicks, while I’d be nonchalantly finding reasons to walk past the front door so that I could bend over and dive face-first into their shoes.

One day, Anthony came up to use the toilet and I didn’t know. He came around the corner to find me buried in his dirty, obviously rank shoes, but he didn’t say anything. He stopped for a second, looked down at the tent in my shorts and chuckled briefly before continuing back down to the basement, without a single word.

Years later, after my brother moved away to start a new life, Anthony hit me up. He had been struggling to keep a job, as he was rather lazy and didn’t like to work. He knew that I had a successful career, and apparently remembered how much I liked his feet, because he told me in his email that he had a proposition for me. He said that he would make me his foot slave if I agree to give him half of my income.

I was intrigued, and knew that I could afford it, so I offered to meet him. We met at a nice restaurant, i of course agreed to pay for us both, and we discussed it further. He told me that his parents were going to throw him out if he didn’t find a steady income soon, and that he’s had several jobs but couldn’t stand any one of them, and inevitably ended up quitting or getting fired for poor attendance from each one. I understood his situation, and desperately wanted to be his foot slave, so I agreed.

He told me to pay for his meal and then to go buy a small, metal chastity belt to put on. He told me that he was repulsed by the idea of me touching myself while thinking about his feet, so enforced chastity would be a mandatory part of the deal. He told me once I had it locked on and had my first payment that he would come to my house to collect the keys and my payment, and I’d finally get to drag my tongue across his rank soles.

****

That was five years ago, and not a thing has changed. Anthony lied to his family and told them he found a descent job, they all believed it and couldn’t be more proud. I’ve spent the last 5 years supporting him entirely, all while locked in chastity and constantly being fed his grimy foot sweat. We live together in “his” townhouse that I paid for, only I stay in the basement and out of his way unless he needs me to clean his feet or do some other menial chore for him.

I’m licking his feet right now, after a long day of playing basketball with some friends out in the park without socks, when he starts chuckling loudly. “Hey fag, I just had a chat with your brother. He’s coming to town next week, I told him he could stay in the guest room. I can’t wait to catch up, it’s been too long.” He told me, all while luxuriously wiggling his toes in my face. “While he’s here I expect total obedience out of you, don’t forget who and what you are. You will still be responsible for all domestic chores, you will still cook and serve all meals to us BOTH, and you will follow any order that my guest has to give, no matter how humiliating or ridiculous, do you understand me?” He said, moving his foot away for a moment to glare into my eyes. I meekly responded with a “yes sir”

“Good boy. I’ll be testing you while he’s here, and I expect absolutely zero fuck-ups. He’s not your brother anymore, you are a slave and he is your master’s best friend, and you WILL treat him accordingly.” All I could do was keep licking his feet and dread what was to come next week…

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dreamcubed · 11 months

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london boy | fred weasley x reader

song; london boy [taylor swift] pairing; fred weasley x fem!american!thunderbird!reader genre; s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; post-second wizarding war au (fred lives) warnings; swearing, alcohol consumption summary; after taking the plunge and moving across the world, you are unsure of how to form a new social circle and support system. it appears there was no need to worry, as you soon meet a charming man who runs a joke shop with his twin brother

a/n; this was actually suggested by an anon! sorry it took a couple months to write

masterlist

"babe, don't threaten me with a good time."

———————————————

The Second Wizarding War, while primarily occurring in battles throughout the United Kingdom, was something that had put the global wizarding world at stake. The United States were no exception, and as a recent graduate of Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you decided to wander across the pond to the country where the liberty of witches and wizards was saved. That, and you had no other plans for the course of your life.

You worked for the first year after your graduation in order to save up money for the move, but you were pleased to say you had finally stepped foot in England: specifically, Diagon Alley.

It was where you had managed to rent a small flat from, as arranged thanks to your mother having connections in the area as a result of her travels back in the day. You were beyond excited to meet new people and settle into a new life.

But you did need a job.

Your savings would suffice for a few months, which would hopefully give you sufficient time to secure an income - key word, hopefully. First on the agenda, however, was exploring your new local area to see if you could make new friends early doors.

And so you found yourself stood outside a completely buzzing joke shop, after visiting the local bakery and book shop. The name of shop was written in gold: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. Chadwick, that was a tongue twister - fitting, you supposed.

You pushed open the door to be greeted by both the bell tinkling above you and the sound of laughing children (and even adults) in all corners of the establishment. A smile pulled its way on to your face as you began walking towards the nearest display table, covered in enchanted prank items. You picked up what appeared to be a normal whoopie cushion, and began examining it.

"Looks normal, but is in fact quite the opposite," a British voice in your left ear caught you off guard, making you quickly turn to be greeted by a tall ginger-haired man, "First of all, it camouflages once it's set down, so anyone who's smart enough to check their seats before sitting down can't catch you out."

You stared blankly at the man.

"Second, it doesn't just make a fart sound, it produces the whole package," he grinned, "A hyper realistic fart smell - and even a greenish smoke if the person sits down with a lot of force."

You came to your senses and smiled, putting the cushion delicately back down. "I'm guessing you're Weasley?"

"One of them," he nodded, "There's two others - one of them fresh out of Hogwarts."

You hummed.

"And I was gonna ask why I don't recognise you from school, but I think your accent gives me the answer."

"Yep, I'm an Ilvermorny grad."

"First time in Britain?"

You nodded, "So far, I love it."

He grimaced, "Depends where you go, Diagon Alley gives you an idealistic impression. How long you here for?"

"Indefinitely."

"Oh?" he quirked an eyebrow, "You're living here?"

"As of today," you smiled, "Y/N. Y/N L/N."

"Fred Weasley," he replied, "Allow me to be your first friend in this foreign country."

You giggled at his feigned poshness.

"What are your plans for work?" he asked, beginning to walk away. Instinctively, you began following him.

You shrugged, "I don't know. Haven't thought that far ahead."

"Oh?"

"I have some money saved while I settle in and find a job."

"That's good," he nodded.

"Have you always wanted to run a joke shop?" you asked.

"Oh, yeah. Always," he said with a smile, "Me and my twin brother, George, have loved pranks since we were kids."

You raised an eyebrow, "Twin?"

"Identical - well, used to be. He has a missing ear now so no one ever mixes us up anymore. Sad, really."

You didn't have to ask how he lost the ear.

"Our younger brother, Ron, decided to join us too. Although I don't think it's a childhood dream of his."

"How many siblings do you have?"

"Six."

Your eyes widened, "Six?"

"Five brothers, one sister."

"Your poor sister."

"Well, she's not doing too bad for herself. She's just starting her quidditch career and she's dating none other than Harry Potter so," he shrugged.

"You know Harry Potter?"

He laughed, "Well, I went to school with him, so yeah. Although I suppose I am a bit closer than normal as Ron's his best mate and my sister's dating him. He actually helped fund the start of this very establishment."

"That's cool."

Fred beamed at you, "Wanna grab a coffee after my shift?"

***

"So, yeah, that's how I ended up losing my virginity to a no-maj," you finished off, sipping on your piccolo, "Poor guy doesn't know he lost his to a witch."

"How do you know it was his first time?" Fred chuckled, sat opposite you, having been intently listening to the story.

"Because he started crying afterwards saying how God was never gonna forgive him for not saving himself for marriage," you said through stifled laughter.

By this point, Fred was practically cackling.

"Honestly, I took it as a compliment. I'm sexy enough to get a guy to suspend his beliefs for a couple hours."

"Not surprised about that," he gave the slightest of smirks to you.

You stopped laughing, suddenly feeling flushed and embarrassed.

"You told a guy you just met how you lost your virginity and only now you get shy?"

You scoffed, "I didn't realise there were rules around when I'm allowed to get shy."

Fred shrugged, "There should be- by that I mean, you should have to do it more. You're cute when you're shy."

You couldn't help your lips from stretching into a grin.

"Oh, shit, is that the time?"

"What?"

"I agreed to meet some of my brothers and friends for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Oh-"

"Wanna come?" he quickly asked.

You frowned, "I don't wanna intrude."

"Don't be silly, I grew up on a 'the more, the merrier' policy."

"Well, if you're sure- fuck it."

***

"Fred, there you are!" a voice rang out from the bar, where a group of guys were gathered.

"Where you been, mate?" a man identical to Fred (save for a missing ear) said.

"If you'd been at the shop today, you'd know."

George, the name you remembered from Fred's many stories, laughed, "I'm just teasing. Ron told me," he nodded his head towards one of the other ginger men in the group. That was when he turned to look at you. "So, you're the mysterious lady Freddie disappeared off with."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N."

"Ooh, accent!" the man who had initially called out to you both said.

"Alright, alright. Y/N, that's Lee there, this is my twin, George- obviously. Over there is Ron, Wood, and one of my older brothers, Bill."

They all greeted you.

"So, where in America you from?" Bill asked.

***

Some way, some how, many firewhiskeys later you found yourself laughing your ass off with a bunch of guys you had only met a few hours ago. You were drunker than the rest of them, that was for sure, as despite US drinking laws not having stopped you from drinking to drunkenness before, they still meant you had had less opportunity to do so. Thus, your tolerance wasn't good.

At some point during the evening, your group had migrated from the bar to a larger table in the corner, where you sat with Fred's arm around you.

"Oh, come on, Ron, you have to admit it's a little ironic that your girlfriend is on her way to be the next Minister of Magic meanwhile you run a joke shop," George said through wheezes.

Ron's expression suddenly went solemn, "How could you say that to me?"

Everyone went silent for a few moments, until Ron erupted in laughter again with everyone else swiftly following. You found it even funnier that the jokes weren't actually funny anymore: you all were just plastered.

As the laughter died down again, you turned to Fred at your side, "I like your friends."

"Better not like 'em more than me," he said, "I know it's only been a day but I'd like to think I've already called dibs on you."

"Called dibs on me?"

"Yeah, well, dibs on being the first British guy you date."

You grinned, "That's up to you to make it happen, London boy."

"I'm not even from London," he retorted.

"Eh, tomato, tomato."

***

How things ended up well past midnight with you stumbling down Diagon Alley, a red headed man helping support your weight, and an unhealthy amount of alcohol in your system - you didn't know. All you knew is that you had learned so much about the man in the last several hours that you felt very comfortable with him.

"Okay, love, is this your flat?"

"Yeah, that's the one," you slurred, moving towards the stairs that led up the side.

"Woah, hold up there, pretty girl," he said, quickly aiding you so you didn't trip and break your face, "You shoulda told us you were a lightweight. We wouldn'ta ordered you so many."

You grumbled, but didn't say anything in response, instead fumbling around in your pockets for your keys.

"Fred, I can't find them," you whined.

He pulled out his wand, "Alohamora." The door clicked open. "I see you haven't put an anti-unlocking charm on your flat yet."

"I literally just moved in."

"I feel like it's a first priority."

You didn't reply, instead tumbling forward into your new small home. Again, Fred steadied your weight, chuckling to himself in the process.

"You need to get to bed."

After helping you get your shoes off, Fred walked you to your bedroom and watched in amusement as you collapsed on to the mattress.

"You all good from here, sweetheart?"

You hummed softly, "Thank you, Freddie."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, "If you're not too hungover, stop by the shop tomorrow. I can set you up with a job."

"Really?"

"Of course. I have a sneaky feeling you're gonna be in my life for a while."

You giggled, "Me too."

"Alright, I'll see you. Take care."

"You too-" you yawned, "-Freddie."

***

It was mid-afternoon by the time you made it to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, still nursing a hangover but feeling better after a long shower, a painkilling potion and a big glass of a fizzy non-alcoholic drink.

"Oh, good, you're here," Fred opened the door, seeing as the shop was in fact shut. They functioned on weekend days of Monday and Tuesday since Saturday and Sunday were prime business days. (Apart from in the lead up to school starting again, as George explained in detail to you the night prior how they couldn't miss out on any day of the week when Diagon Alley was swarmed with kids.)

"You seem perkier than me," you grumbled, entering the unusually quiet store.

"I didn't get nearly as drunk as you," he reminded, walking towards the back room, "Anyway, I assume you're here for the job?"

You nodded, "That... and to see you."

He gave you a soft smile at that, "You're always welcome."

"You literally met me yesterday."

"What? Were you too drunk to remember what I said last night?"

You suppressed a smile, "No."

"Then you know. Call it divine intuition if you will but you're gonna be around for a while."

"I certainly don't plan on leaving," you replied, following him into the office area.

"Well, let's set you up for a job here then."

"It's really nice of you to do this."

He winked at you, "I don't do favours for free."

"What do you want in return?" you narrowed your eyes at him.

"Another date."

You grinned, "I think I could agree to those terms."

***

Not even a week later, you and Fred were walking down Diagon Alley, ready to go out for lunch for your second date. An hour ago, the sun had been shining brightly in the sky, warming your exposed skin. Now, the shimmery blues had been veiled by a thick layer of dark grey clouds, casting a shadow over the bustling street. You heard Fred, a normally cheerfully optimistic man (as you had quickly learned), let out a sigh.

"Looks like the forecast has taken a turn," just as he finished his sentence, droplets began cascading down from above, growing in intensity by the second.

You couldn't help but giggle slightly.

"Doesn't this bother you?"

You laughed harder, "No. I like it."

Fred smiled at you, "Really? A rainy date?"

You shrugged, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

"Well, okay, then."

He held out his hand to you, and you took it, letting him twirl you around before you both continued walking in the direction of the café he had in mind.

"Your smile is so pretty," he commented after some moments of delicate silence.

You couldn't help but beam at his words, "Really?"

He hummed, "I could look at it for the rest of my life."

In your chest, your heart was performing somersaults like a circus acrobat, and it was making you feel giddy. This was the most alive you had ever felt and you never wanted to let it go.

"Do it then," you replied, "Nothing's stopping you."

He stopped in his tracks, forcing you to halt as well since your hand remained interlocked with his.

"What?" you asked, looking back at him from your position one step forward.

"Can I?" he spoke with a soft gaze, the usual mischievous glint absent.

"Can you what?"

"Look at your smile forever?"

You shrugged limply, "If you can make me smile forever, sure."

"Can I say something crazy?"

"I would expect nothing less from you."

"I kinda want to marry you."

"Kinda?" you raised an eyebrow, feeling the swarm of butterflies spinning in your stomach but remaining calm and collected on the outside.

"I know we only met a week ago, but what would you say if I asked?"

"Guess you'll have to learn the hard way," you gave him a cheeky grin.

"Okay," he said, and it was only then you realised that the rain had caused the street to clear out of most people. Your eyes widened as he got down on one knee, still holding your hand. Suddenly, you could no longer feel your wet hair clinging to your face, nor your damp clothes sticking to your skin. Not because they had dried, but because all your focus was elsewhere.

You were pretty sure you had forgotten how to breathe.

"Y/N, in the short time I've known you, which is admittedly very short, I have had so much fun," he began, "And as I said right at the beginning, I have a feeling that you're gonna be around a while, it's why I even came over to talk to you the first time you entered my shop- I felt drawn to you. And, well, I'm known for my impulsive decisions, but they've all worked out so far, so, I have no reason not to act on this one too," he took a deep breath, "I don't have a ring right now, but will you marry me?"

You stood, stunned. You hadn't thought he would actually propose to you.

"Don't feel pressured to say yes," he quickly added, making you snap out of your daze.

You shook your head, "Yes- I'll marry you, Freddie."

The man's face lit up as he zoomed to his feet and picked you up, spinning you around as your lips touched each other's for the first time. You couldn't believe it: Fred Weasley was now your fiancé, when he was never even your boyfriend.

"Now, what say we go get some food to celebrate?" he asked.

"Sounds good to me."

***

THREE YEARS LATER.

***

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the officiator called out, "You may kiss the bride."

You watched from the crowd as Ron pressed his lips to Hermione's, joining the rest of the audience with the applauding.

"This is a lot grander than our wedding," Fred leaned down to whisper in your ear.

You laughed gently, "Ours was a much more last minute affair, Freddie."

"Mm, how long was our engagement again?"

"Three weeks," you reminded, "The courting only lasted a week too."

"What can I say? I'm a man who knows what I want."

You shook your head with a smile, picking up the applause again as Hermione and Ron began posing for photos from the photographer.

"Oh, they're calling us up now," Fred said, grabbing your hand and pulling you up to the altar with him. All of the Weasley siblings and their partners were also en route to where the newly weds were.

As you took your position in the photograph with Fred's arm wrapped around you, he leaned down to whisper in your ear yet again.

"Can I just say, my love, you look absolutely gorgeous- as always."

Your bright smile was one of the most genuine in the photograph, as Hermione later commented, and in response to that Fred had immediately taken a copy for your own house.

"What?" he had said when you raised an eyebrow at him, "I told you, I want to stare at your smile forever."

You chuckled.

"And you said I can, provided I make you smile."

You hummed, recalling the conversation that led up to his impromptu proposal fondly.

"And correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm the one that made you smile in this photo."

Unable to argue with him, you gazed at the moving photograph of Fred turning his head away from your ear to smile at the camera. It hadn't quite captured the moment in which he complimented your looks, but it didn't need to, as you knew that you would never forget the context for the image.

Not when your smile really did shine so brightly in it.

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masterlist

written; 19/04/2023 —> 31/05/2023 published; 31/05/2023 edited; —/—/——

taglist ; @workinatdapyramid @iluvweasleys

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