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#and that's a little how i feel about god lately. tired but i'm not running
songsofadelaide · 2 days
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You and your husband were hardly sleeping together lately. You couldn't blame him. He was busy beyond words and he had a duty to the realm. He was king, after all.
When Marcille heard you were having trouble sleeping, she personally made you some dream balm, which was really just a concoction of beeswax, fragrant lavender, chamomile, bergamot, and some crimson herb you couldn't identify because the heavens forbid the queen not get enough rest— and more stuff you didn't hear because of how off you've been feeling from the lack of sleep.
So when the evening rolled by with her dusk-coloured skirts across the sky, you decided to turn in for the night and made use of the aromatic balm Marcille concocted especially for you. You rubbed the sweet yet waxy substance on your temples, behind your ears, and a little bit on your wrists and other pulse points and called it a day.
But your sleepiness was chased out of your body because you were hearing things.
Your shared bedchamber with the king was dimly lit and there was no one else there but you.
You could hear the thoughts and desires from your bed frame. Your... your pillow? And not just your thoughts, but Laios', too.
"Kiss me, please—"
"—Let me hold you..."
"You're so beautiful..."
You could hear his thoughts in his voice in your head— his voice so calm and patient and perhaps a bit tired-sounding— as though he was simply whispering them to you. His thoughts were so embarrassingly loud that it did not help your case of sleeplessness at all.
"Don't look away from me... I want to see your face."
The balm was warm behind your ears and on your pulse and it made you cry a little bit because by the gods, you missed your husband and his voice in your head and your half-empty bed were nothing but torment for you. You held his pillow in your arms and ducked under the covers to hide from... from your own embarrassment. If you weren't going to get any sleep, you may as well tire yourself out instead.
Laios was always incredibly honest with himself. He was never one to shy away from things. He would tell you he wants you— he desires you— without missing a beat. And so his voice in your head with his somewhat disrespectful tone, telling you to take all of him, made your imagination work overtime.
"Are you asleep already? I apologise for not being able to spend that much time with you lately..."
Oh, his voice was apologetic this time. Nothing like the seductive phrases you've been hearing for the last half hour or so.
"Ah, Laios..."
It was only when you felt the bed shift and the covers lifted up that you realised it was him for real this time.
"I—" You stammered at him, your face warm and hands even warmer underneath your night garments.
"W—" Laios was about to ask you something, but he hardly got a word in when you grabbed your shared blanket and cocooned yourself in complete shock. "Hey, there's no need to hide from me..."
He coaxed you out of the covers and into his arms and tenderly kissed away the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.
"My lord husband, I—"
He chuckled at how cold his title sounded as it escaped your lips. "Didn't I hear you call me by my name just moments ago?"
"I-It's embarrassing enough that you caught me in such a state!"
"Well, you don't have to be in that kind of state if you would just call for me," he said as he rubbed circles on the back of your dominant hand. "I have my duties to this kingdom, but I also have my duties to you, my queen, my wife... Just tell Marcille and Kabru that you need me. I'll come running no matter where I am or what I'm doing."
"Oh, right. Marcille gave me this weird balm. She said it was supposed to be a sleep remedy but it got me all hot and bothered instead because I was hearing you all over the place..."
You handed the canister of balm to your husband, who twisted it open and gave it a little whiff. "Lavender, chamomile, bergamot... and some saffron, if I'm right. No wonder you're burning up."
"Why?"
"Saffron is a, uh..." It was his turn to be embarrassed this time. "Well, Senshi and Chilchuck once told me to steer clear of certain plants because of their... certain strange properties. Saffron is one of them. They're kind of like an aphrodisiac, after all."
"A... what?"
"Let's just say it's a spice," he said in conclusion, slowly drawing you into a kiss. "Now, do you want to pick up where you left off? Only I'm here now, so..."
On the other side of the castle was the advisor to the king and the kingdom's head mage in complete panic at how she accidentally switched turmeric for saffron for the queen's dream balm.
Kabru simply laughed off her rookie mistake. "You did them a favour, Marcille. Trust me when I say the king's going to thank you first thing in the morning."
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✦ A little something again for us Laios lovers. Can be considered a spiritual sequel to Means Something.
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inkskinned · 6 months
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it's just that there's a few more steps you have to take that other people don't have to take, but they don't see the steps, so they think you should be able to hop from moment to moment, a chickadee.
it isn't getting out of bed. it is the weight, the hook in your chest, the anchor. you have to move the anchor first. you have to silence your alarm, but your phone is in your hand, which means now you have to put the phone down, which is too-hard. you get stuck in there for a while, the white screen, mindlessly scrolling. you don't even like this activity, have tried a few other options but - here you are, and time is passing.
you've googled iron deficiency causes depression and if i drink enough water does it help with mental illness and anxiety but no caffiene within the last two weeks, like how you googled am i gay quiz at 17.
it isn't just calling the doctor back, it's the anxiety, it's these little moths in your lung cavities, furious and fluttering. you need to figure out how to capture your fingers from between their nervous bodies. you are an adult, you can say the words yes hi, i'm calling because i need - but you need to practice first. maybe write it down because what if you misspeak, wouldn't that be embarrassing. write it down, but you need to find a pen first. well, actually, your desk is kind of messy. you should get a new pen. you should get a new organizational system. you should try journaling.
your grades in school were always strange. the way teachers would say things like it feels like you're not trying. you could touch stars in the stuff you cared about. well, sometimes. god be willing. homework average zero. oops! your english teacher's wrinkled brow: i know you know this stuff. what the fuck are you doing?
it isn't the showering, it's the mirror before the shower and the soft horrible pull of your naked physique. you have to avoid eye contact completely or else it'll be 93 minutes later and you'll have picked at your skin until every little pore is bleeding. you have to stand up but standing is tiring and also you should have remembered to buy more soap but you never remember anything. maybe get out of the shower and while it's still running and you're still dripping wet, use your phone to take a note. make a note to get your groceries. let the shower run while you stand half-in half-out and get lost in your phone for a moment. come back out when the water runs cold and now you have to sprint to get ready.
your grandmother's frown. you're just being lazy. protestant work ethics in a house that isn't even protestant. she says she just learned different but she means learned better, doesn't she.
it's not that you can't send the email, it's that your hands have been hurting lately and the desk really is messy and also why the fuck would you even care about this thing? doesn't everyone else feel like they're drowning? hi brendon thanks so much for sending! will review and get back to you shortly. but now you're on the internet, close the tab with tumblr on it. go on, close it. feel the little soft vapor of boredom come up and over your eyeteeth and make everything overwhelming and itchy.
literally all you have to do is put on shoes to go outside. you're literally already dressed, that's the hard part of this whole thing. literally just put the shoes on. just... do it! do it! this shit is easy!
it's literally that easy. just stop taking all those stupid invisible steps. stop following your strange made-up rules. times like this, even you're positive you're faking. you just don't want to bother with the cleaning and the cooking and the being-an-adult.
but then - shouldn't you be able to put these stupid shoes on? nobody's even looking. go on kid. life is out there! just take the leap!
get moving.
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appocalipse · 1 month
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that guy ⊹ steve harrington
summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words
── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.
It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.
To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.
You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.
"Hi."
You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"
"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."
A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.
How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?
You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.
"So...not the one, I take it?"
Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.
"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."
"Nothing is wrong with you."
"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"
The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."
Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.
"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."
"She does."
"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."
"At least you have one."
He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"
You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.
What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.
Until it wasn't.
"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."
"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."
Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"
You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."
"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"
Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.
Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.
"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."
"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.
Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"
"You...don't know him," you hedge.
"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."
"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."
Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."
The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.
You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."
"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.
You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?
You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.
"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."
Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.
The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.
No, you aren't going to cry.
This is stupid.
You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.
When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.
You don't have to look up to know that it's him.
"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.
"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.
There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.
"You look just fine to me."
You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."
He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.
"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.
You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.
"I should've never asked. That was selfish."
"Forget it," you say.
He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.
You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.
"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."
"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."
"Yup. Exactly. In there."
"So you said."
"Yep."
The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—
He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.
"Okay, so—"
You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.
"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.
He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."
You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.
"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.
Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"
"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."
"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"
He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.
"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."
"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.
"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."
"Steve."
"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."
"Steve—"
"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."
He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.
Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.
"Is this okay?" he whispers.
"I don't—what?"
Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.
"This," Steve murmurs.
He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.
"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."
"I think I am."
His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.
"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"
You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.
"Yes. It's you."
A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.
You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.
"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."
A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.
"Oh yeah?"
"Completely."
You kiss him this time.
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dark-night-hero · 8 days
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"So it's true! You and her- Guizhong were a thing. Then what the hell does that make me Morax?!" "Can you just drop it of? We're in a hurry." He was tired. And their friend was in danger. "No! Knowing you'll be out there to save your other lover, tell me the truth Morax! Is it true?!" It was the same topic of argument for some time now. He had been denying it over and over again, he just cannot seem to understand why you kept insisting even after hearing him say that was not the case. And he was getting tired of it.
Guizhong was just a friend and that very same friend is now in danger if they do not arrive at rhe right time and here he is getting hold up because of your questions. And knowing you would not let him go even if he were to deny it because that was the truth. Maybe he should give in for now to avoid further more questioning and leave as fast as he can so he could come back to you in now time, knowing that he could easily resolve the misunderstanding and his lies. "You know what. It's true. Now if you just get out of the way, I need to save her." "Wha-what? Wa-wait! Morax-!"
He did not mean to be harsh than he already is. He was just mad, mad because he saw no reason why you should get jealous of a friend, a common friend of yours. Mad because he was running late and a little more than to it could possibly result the death of a dear friend. At the same time, he was mad at himself for leaving that way. But he knew he could always explain when he came back into you. The two of you could always sort it out after the battle like you two always does.
So why? So why in the world- celestia were everything was on fire. And you were in the middle of it, leaning on your weapon for support, blood running down all the way from your temple into your chin. It was not just that. You are bleeding, bleeding all over. Why. Why why why why why? Just what the hell happened in here?
"Don't come." You utter, despite the fact that you could barely stand, you painfully look forward to your lover... heh, can he still be called a lover when he already admitted that he betrayed you? "Some..." you pant. "Some beings came into the city while you were away... hahh, I manage to defend the city until all the people manage to flee but- cough! Hahh, the god manage to escape."
"No. No no no no no." It was getting hard to breathe, nevertheless you should see Morax from afar, running towards you. "Bastard- I told you not to come he-!" You stagger forward, for a moment losing consciousness, still, you embrace yourself with the thought of you hitting the ground. But you never did.
"Let go." "It was a lie. There was no one else." "Morax- I said-" "I was in a hurry, I did not mean to say those words. Guizhong was only a friend. Believe me. God- Celestia. There is no one else. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me." He was hugging, cradling you in his arms. His tears rolling down his cheeks, into your own but you were feeling quite numb to notice that.
"It's..." You tried to hold up a hand but you could only feel the pain and the more it drains you. In the end you could only hold on into his arm. "It's okay... you don't have to lie to make me... feel better." You tried to smile to make him feel better, so why does it look like he was about to lose his whole world? "No. No please. It's nothing like that. I was a fool, I am a fool. Please believe me there is no one else but you. (First name). Please."
You knew he was talking, you can see him talking despite how things were slowly starting to go blurr, you can hear a few words but cannot seemed to focus on it when there is a high pitched ring that makes you unable to focus on what he was saying. Also, "It's cold." You mumble, fighting everything you can to stay conscious.
"Fuck!" Morax can feel your body slowly but surely cooling down. Suddenly his heart dropped as he panicked, he was getting anxious. He felt fear for the first time in his life. "Hold on, please hold on." He tried, he tried his best to fix you with his powers but it was no avail. You have so many wounds, you have already lost a lot of blood. You were dying all ago. "Fuck." He cursed once again. "Fuck, fuck! I told you to hold on (First name)!" He was getting mad again.
Morax felt like he was going mad, he felt like he was about to get crazy. Specially when he saw you starting to close your eyes. He felt a shiver down his spine. "Don't you dare close your eyes (First name)!" Not like this, not when you seemed to sure that he never loved- love you. "Fuck!" His amber iris were glowing with that presence of a dragon. "Don't you dare fell asleep (First name). I'm begging you please-?" He felt a light squeeze on his arm.
"Its.. okay." Taking your last breath, Morax felt the heavy weight of your now dead body in his arms. Your hand falling to your side as your head rest in his chest. At that very moment a rain drop fell from the sky, Morax arms were trembling yet still manage to pull you closer to him as if trying to find a little warmth. "Hah, hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA."
That day, the dragon lost his mate. His one and only mate as his anguish cries were heard all throughout their land.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°
: bye, may klase pa ko ng alas quatro sa hapon.
: Also, why is it always zhongli who become the victim of my angst ideas. Tho I might make a same promt with ???
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aft3rhrs · 5 months
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— number: unknown ღ
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: strangers to lovers
warnings: dead dove, yandere, manipulation, corruption, mentions of stalking, mentions of therapy, dirty talk, humiliation, obsession, mentions of masturbation & dub con sex, allusions to cnc, allusions to depression and anxiety, hints of fear kink, use of triggering words in an erotic and degrading manner* (listed under the cut).
*use of the word “rape”.
masterlist
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In the last few months, you've grown used to the sound of your phone ringing late at night. It still sent your heart into a frenzy, nerves sparking up like wires — but you peeked at the screen nonetheless, taking less and less time to hesitate to answer.
Number: Unknown.
Palms sweaty, you clicked accept on the call.
A chuckle greeted you.
"Lonely?"
You tried to ignore the chill his voice sent rippling down your spine, raising goosebumps along the way.
"What do you want?"
"Don't be like that," Jungkook cooed. "I missed you. Wanted to check in. What's up? How was therapy last week?"
The question came with a tint of mockery, instantly dusting your cheeks. It wasn't surprising by now that he knew; he knew everything about you, it seemed, from soul to entrails. But you couldn't wrap your head around how, or why he even paid such close attention in the first place. All you were capable of comprehending clearly was the anger blazing in your chest.
"Screw you."
"Aw, come on," he crooned on the line. "I'm just checking up on my favorite girl. Any progress? Did you tell your therapist you let your stalker fuck you right after filing a report? Did you tell him you pick up my calls?"
You felt his words swirl and burn in your stomach, as if you downed a glass of liquor. Shame crawled all over your skin, hot and uncomfortable. Why couldn't you find it in yourself to hang up? For a moment, you considered doing just that, but then quickly brushed off the idea.
Better to entertain him like this than to have him show up at your door.
Right...?
He could hear you breathe in, the lack of an answer curving his lips upwards.
"Well, that's okay. I really don't like you seeing him, though. I'm kind of offended you went to someone else for help."
"You're the reason I need help!" You hissed, unable to stop yourself. "You're seriously sick in the head."
"What a mouthy little thing you are," Jungkook murmured. "Pretty brave for someone who claimed she's afraid of me." His voice lowered to a whisper. "Pretty hypocritical too... I might be crazy, but you're the one still talking to me. Didn't you come all over my cock like a good little girl too? I think you might be a bit sick yourself, sweetheart."
Oh god.
No.
You pretended you didn't feel yourself clench around thin air, pretended your underwear wasn't getting drenched.
"But I don't mind," he continued, raspy, "I can be your therapist, baby. I'll help you feel better."
Your eyes fluttered closed, head growing foggy.
"Why keep running? Why keep running if you always let me catch up?"
"I don't," you whispered, "I'm trying to—"
"No," Jungkook tsked, "you're not. Are you too scared to face yourself in the mirror? Do you see my eyes when you try?"
You shivered for some reason.
"No."
"That's a lie... You like it when I chase you, and no therapy is ever going to help you. You know why?" He coaxed, soft. "Do you know where your sickness lies, angel...? It's not in your head. It's in your heart. You dont trust love, you don't feel it, unless it's got you losing breath, nice and tight, like a noose. Why don't you let me give it to you?"
Despite the pounding of your heart, you tried to keep his words out of your mind, tried to focus before you disappeared so deep into the fog, you'd become a part of it. But you were so tired... and floating in the dark, weightless, felt a little more like peace.
Still, swallowing thickly, you tried.
"Do you get off on taunting all your victims like some kind of psycho?"
"Oh baby," he sighed. "How many times do I gotta tell you? You're the only girl I want. No need to get jealous."
"Go fuck yourself—"
Another chuckle, then a groan.
"I should. I really want to... Miss you so much..."
Your stomach flipped.
"Miss your mouth. Didn't have time to fuck it back then... Would you let me now?"
"No," you breathed out, shaky.
Why were you still talking to him? Why were your thighs squeezed shut so hard?
"Mmm, that's what you said last time, and yet look who ended up begging me to fill that little cunt."
Your hand tightened around your phone, the pulsing in between your legs refusing to cease and getting harder to ignore.
"I know you could take it all," he breathed. "All down your pretty throat, no complaints. Would be too busy sucking, right, baby?"
"Why even bother asking?" you whispered, your voice small, like you knew the answer already.
Because you did.
"Makes me hard," Jungkook admitted, shameless. "It's cute to see you struggle. Acting like a frightened little doe, like you weren't waiting for a wolf to eat you up."
The confession was so dirty, nothing short of predatory; but it made your cunt throb and heat stick to your underwear, and you couldn't decide if you were more disturbed by him or by your own reactions.
"Fuck..." he swore hoarsely. "All that screaming and fighting only to end up begging for it. Do you like it forced? No need to think, no need to make choices. Just taking my cock like a good little rape toy, yeah?"
You weren't able to contain the hitch of your breath, thighs quivering and spine tingling all over.
Jungkook moaned softly in response, the sound shooting straight through your pussy.
"Wanna come?"
This wasn't happening.
You were losing grasp of reality, consumed by the need to find a lifeline. You felt like you caught a fever, your reply coming out more mellow than intended.
"No. Please stop."
"You're a bad liar, little doe. Without me your body and soul feel empty. You need me as much as I need you."
Your eyes fell shut. You shook your head, repeating your denial like a prayer.
"No..."
Your brain was running on automatic, trying to hold on to some semblance of rationality.
"Does it make you feel better to say that?" Jungkook muttered. "Wouldn't it be easier to give in? I know how much you wanna sneak your hand into your panties. Go on, baby. Rub all your thoughts away. It will feel so good."
You felt your thighs tremble again, the wetness between them unbearable. It was getting harder to breathe through the rising heat, your mouth falling open, trying to catch more oxygen into your lungs.
"Go on, pretty. I'll come with you... Just say the word."
Yes.
No, that wasn't right.
Please...
"No," you forced out again, something that sounded too much like a whimper. "I'm going. Stop calling me."
Jungkook just sighed.
"Shame. Can you at least move closer to the window? Do a little twirl for me. I missed you so much..."
Your head snapped in the direction of the window, heart jumping in alarm. Jungkook seemed to know; he sounded so amused, like it was all a game. And he was winning.
"Just kidding. I have some things to do, but I will see you soon, baby."
"Jungkook—" you panicked, shaking your head, "please don't—"
"Goodnight. I love you."
Beep.
He hung up.
You hugged your knees and lowered your head onto them, welcoming the darkness that greeted you, eclipsing the faint glow of your nightlight.
Was this your fault? You were in pieces for so long; surely that must have been to blame for the sickening pull you felt to answer the phone every time he called.
Maybe that was how Jungkook had managed to get to you. Slithered in through the cracks, took advantage of all the empty spaces. Poured himself in like poison, down to the last drop. Maybe that was also why he needed you so much; there was nothing left of him but you.
You let yourself slump onto the bed, probably the last time you'd be able to sleep through the night somewhat calmly. Because when Jungkook said soon... he always meant soon.
And the clock refused to stop ticking.
taglist 💌: @whipwhoops @svnbangtansworld @ane102 @stellalovesstarss @crisle19 @jksteponme @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @dolphinmochi
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sweets4dolls · 3 months
Note
*crashes through window, covered in blood*
Ok ok hear me out. Lute abusing her high ranking position in heaven in order to have her way with a much lower ranking angel
𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀
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pairing: lute + fem!reader
content warnings: smut, dubious consent, mean lute, not proofread, workplace sex,
notes: live laugh lute('s fingers) ੈ✩‧₊˚
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the only reason lute came into the office was to see you.
yes, she didn't actually have to come in, she could most definitely go about and keep order in heaven and have someone else file her reports for her, but then she wouldn't get to see your pretty face:(
so you're what keeps her showing up to the heavenly workplace, getting to see you, the cute little secretary that scampers around, practically flaunting those short skirts in her face, getting everyone they're food and drinks and whatever else they ask for, so it keeps her asking for more.
she's always the one consistently asking you to do more for her - get her more stuff, go run this off somewhere, bring this to her - just so she can see more of your pretty face.
at this point, she's seem you so much she remembers your handwriting, memorized the repeating colors of ribbons you wear in your soft hair, the specific gait you have when you walk - an ethereal thing for her to behold as you do it with a kind of looseness and a ghost of a drag, very meretricious.
so wanting to see more of you, she keeps ordering you around, keeping you late and working you into the ground, making it not long before you accidentally screw something up.
one day, she calls you into her private office late, after everyone else is gone. as you walk in, posture slightly sunken and eyes tired and lost-looking. she looks at you accusingly with piercing eyes as she taps the tip of her nail against a paper that you had filled out for her.
"what's this?" she asks you harshly, making you instantly stiffen as you peer to look at your mistake.
"I'm so sorry, ms. lute, I'll fix it immediately" you say, eyes lingering on the paper before looking up at her again, a hand outstretched to take the paper from her grasp so you can repair your mistake.
she grabs your hand and wrenches your body forward like a baby animal she could pick up by the neck, making you let out a soft noise of surprise as your cheeks burn - what had you messed up this bad to warrant this kind of response?
"yeah you're going to fucking fix it," she spits as she takes both of your fragile wrists in one hand, keeping them pressed down on the desk behind your back as she slams her lips against yours, feverishly kissing you, something she's been waiting so long to do.
"god, you must've known, doing what you were doing, looking up at me with those pretty eyes every morning, always being such a good girl, always so easy," she says in between kisses, "but look at you now, making mistake on purpose, like you wanted me to do this," she says as her other hand travels up your skirt, palming you through wet panties, making you whimper in her mouth and lean into her.
she chuckles at your reaction which only spurs her on more as her hand moves inside your panties. "aww, look at how wet you are" she coos superciliously, proud of her work as she gently spreads and teases your slit.
your eyes widen as she actually dips into your pussy, head rolling onto her shoulder as you whine pathetically in her ear and hips try to jut into her fingers, needing her deeper. you just can't help the feeling of warmness in the bottom of your tummy, sensing it grow as she continues to fuck you on her fingers and whisper depraved things in your innocent ears.
"lute" the word tumbles out of your mouth as she lets you press into her, your hair a mess as you whine and whimper. "I know pretty girl, don't worry, I'm gonna wreck this pussy" she promises as she continues her assault until you're cumming all over the desk, making a mess, her fingers not bothering to stop.
"w-wait, slow down, need-" you stutter out through gasps, not able to form your full sentence before she shushes you with her own words.
"no, you dumb little girl, don't you remember? this is a punishment"
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months
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Spaces, II (Matt Sturniolo)
part one
contains: angst, fluff, making up, alludes to sex, kissing, general relationship issues, 950 words
a/n: I'm the worst at series cus I just wanna post it all immediately but here's part two and @opheliaofficial07 here's your tag.
I genuinely don’t know what’s worse: the fact that Matt hasn’t called me back yet or the fact that I’m sitting here like a lame-ass loser waiting for him to.
God, I gotta get a grip but standing on business is really fucking difficult when that business is Matt Sturniolo. I grab my phone and call Nick before I lose it and do something beyond corny. He answers after only a couple of rings and I widen my eyes in mock horror.
“Oh god. I must be well and truly fucked if you answered when I called unannounced.”
“Yeah, enjoy this. Never happening again.” Nick throws back and then tilts his head and sighs. “I’m not talking about Matt with you.”
“Who?”
Nick gives me a very unimpressed look, “Girl. Be fucking for real.” I laugh and flip over on my stomach.
“No, but seriously. I didn’t call for him. I called for my friend. I need my friend.” I say, cringing slightly at how pathetic I sound.
“The fuck? Are you dying or something?” Nick jokes before adding, “You really do need me. What’s up with this hair?”
“Alright, fuck you guy-”
I lay around joking with Nick for an hour before he says he has to go. “Kk. I’ll see you when you’re home.” I say, a little sad to be alone again. He pauses before hanging up.
“I love you. It’ll work out.”
“I hope so." I say with a sigh.
“It will. Or I’ll kill you both. I can’t with the moping.” He says groaning before ending the call.
I toss my phone down and reach for my laptop, searching up Love Island and hitting play on a random season. Just as Maya Jama announces the first boy, I hear my front door open and freeze. Who the fuck? I close the laptop and try not to panic, sliding off of my bed and hiding below it. But, before I can start getting my survival plan together, I hear a very confused and familiar voice call my name.
I peek my head out and gaze up at Matt who is looking at me like I’ve lost every single piece of my mind.
“Matt, what are you doing here?” I ask, a little out of breath as I slide from under my bed.
“You know, I just feel like a better question is why you just popped from under there like a little gremlin. But okay.” He takes off his backpack and drops down onto my desk chair, spinning it around to face me.
I study his face closer now. He looks a little tired and disheveled, but unfortunately still way too attractive for it to be fair.
“No seriously. Aren’t you supposed to be on a trip right now?” I ask, still keeping my distance.
“I mean, yeah. But I had to make sure everything was good at home.” He says, gesturing to me and making my heart skip a beat.
But I play it cool and cross my arms. “And I’m home, now?”
“You’ve always been home. Even before I knew that.” He leans forward, hooking his finger through my belt loop, and pulls me to him. I stand between his legs and look down at him, reaching to push his hair back. He runs his hands up and down the side of my legs as I meet his eyes, trying my hardest to bottle this moment.
I break eye contact and look over his shoulder as I admit, “Matt, I just feel like you’re slipping through my fingers lately and I don’t know what to do. It’s fucking terrifying loving you like this.”
Matt says nothing for a few seconds but when I go to pull away, he pulls me down onto his lap so I’m straddling him.
“Listen, you are a priority to me. I’m sorry I haven’t been acting like it but you are. I think it’s just easy to take for granted that you’re the one thing I’ve got figured out.” He reaches down and interlocks one of our hands bringing it to his chest. “And if you don’t think I’m terrified, you’re crazy. Every time I have to leave you and I know it’s gonna be for a minute, my fucking chest aches right here.” He circles a spot in the middle of his chest with our hands and I lean forward to rest my forehead against his shoulder. He lets my hand go and snakes his arms around my waist, tugging me even closer.
“So how do we fix it?” I ask into his shoulder, then drop a kiss there before I lean back to look at him.
“We’re gonna make a calendar and share it. When you can be with me, you’ll be with me. When you can’t, we’ll make time. But we’re not doing this again.” He answers with a tone that says he’s been thinking about this a lot.
I smile at him now, “You’ve got all the answers, huh”
“That’s me. The man with the plan.” He jokes, leaning forward to drop kisses down the side of my jaw.
“Oh and Matt?”
“Hmmm?”
“Next time, tell Addison Rae to give you space to breathe.”
“That wasn’t even Addison. It was-”
At the look I give him, Matt snaps his mouth closed and mimes zipping it. “Sorry, sorry.” He stands up, taking me with him as he heads over to my bed.
“You know you can’t just sex me into not being mad anymore, right?” I say with a laugh as he drops me onto the mattress. He smiles, climbing on top of me and finally pressing his lips into mine.
“I wasn’t planning on trying to. But now that you mention it-”
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sunny44 · 6 months
Text
All these years (Part 3)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend! Reader
Warnings: slap, fights and maybe more things
Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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My parents had already left for dinner at the Leclerc house and I was already showered and getting ready to order a pizza when the doorbell rang.
"I can't believe he really came." I said to myself and opened the door and saw Arthur standing there. “You really came here to get me. Seriously?”
"Of course I came, why didn't you came?"
"I don't want to see your brother, I didn't even want to come to the wedding so I wouldn't see your brother." He put his hand on his chest, feigning fake indignation. "I'm sorry but it's true and at the wedding I can still get away from him but there in your house with half a dozen people I can't."
"Y/n, he didn't even come, there was a problem with the plumbing in his apartment and the plumber couldn't fix it until today, so get dressed and let's go because my mother said I wouldn't have a wedding tomorrow if I didn't take you."
"Okay, let me just put some clothes on and fix my face." He agrees and I go to the bedroom.
I put on a simple black dress and sneakers, did a quick make-up just so I wouldn't look so bad and picked up my things.
I went downstairs and left my house accompanied by Arthur. As soon as we entered the house I could hear the laughter of my parents and his parents.
"Look who I brought!" he said, pulling me along.
"My God, you look beautiful." She says and hugs me. "How you've changed."
"Thank you, Mrs. Leclerc."
"It's just Pescale, darling." She smiles and runs her hand through my hair. "I missed you, it's been a while since you came to visit us, how is Milan?"
"I've missed you too and everything's fine, I've been promoted to head of the urban architecture sector."
"That's wonderful, I know how much you wanted that job."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Why do you think?"
"That's great my love, I'm happy for you." My dad hugs me.
He always has a way of finding out about situations.
"Sorry I'm late, the plumber managed to get there early." he says as he walks in and stops as soon as he sees me there.
At that moment everything around me seemed to disappear except for him, it was the first time we'd seen each other in years, after all the best and worst moments of my life we were here.
Facing each other again.
"Hi darling, how are you?" My mom goes over to him and hugs him, and he takes his eyes off me.
"Hi Mrs. Y/l/n, I'm fine, how are you?”
"We're fine too." She smiles.
It had been years since I'd seen my mother smile like that, which made me roll my eyes.
"I thought you weren't coming." Lorenzo says, coming over.
"Actually, the problem was much smaller than it seemed and I managed to get the plumber to come early so everything was sorted. Where's Carla?”
"She's with her parents."
"Hi Y/n.”
"Charles."
"Greet him right Y/n."
"Don't push it, Mom."
"Well, shall we have dinner?" his mother says, changing the subject.
The only words we exchanged today were that greeting, then we distracted ourselves with other people on different subjects but always keeping a distance from each other.
"I think I'm going now," I said as I got up.
"Why don't you stay a little longer?" His mom asked.
"I really have to go; I haven't slept since I arrived early this morning, and I'm dead tired. I drove from Milan to here."
"Alright then, especially since tomorrow is the big day."
"We're leaving at 8 in the morning to go to the resort, okay?" Lorenzo said before I left.
"Well, in that case, I think it's best for all of us to go to sleep," Arthur got up from the couch.
"I'm going to stay around; I'm too tired to drive."
"Charles, your old room has your brother's things in it, so you can't sleep there."
"He can stay at our place." My mom said.
"Love, I..." my father tried to say it's a bad idea, but she obviously didn't care.
"Let's go, Charles, there's a spare room and no one will bother you there."
"That's great."
"Did you say something, Y/n?"
"I said 'that's great' in a very ironic way in case you didn't understand that as well."
I grabbed my phone and left there; I couldn't take my mother's jabs anymore or even look at him.
I took off my clothes and put on some pajamas, leaving the room to go to the bathroom and as I was about to open the door, Charles was coming out of it.
"Are you still going to use it?"
"Can you be less rude?"
"Are you going to use it or not?"
"No," he said and I went in.
I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and after going to the bathroom, I returned to the room, only to be faced with that jerk sitting on my bed.
"Excuse me, can you please leave?"
"We need to talk."
"We have nothing to talk about. You need to leave because I want to sleep."
"Please, love."
"Don't call me that. In fact, don't call me anything; forget that I exist."
"It's kind of hard to forget you." He looked me up and down with a malicious look, and I slapped him in the face. "What's your problem?"
"You're my problem, and you're a jerk, too." He laughed. "Look, we haven't seen each other in years, so pretend we never even met and leave me alone."
"I just want to apologize."
"And I don't want to hear it. Nothing you have to say changes what you told me years ago."
"I never meant to say those things."
"But you did, and the fact that you said them means that you considered them to be true, even if only for a moment." He fell silent. "You moved on with your life, and I moved on with mine. I don't want to go back to the past."
"I never wanted this to happen between us. You were the love of my life and I ruined everything out of selfishness. You would never have asked me to choose, and I had no right to do the same to you. I should have supported you as a decent boyfriend would, and all I did was say those horrible things to you." He spoke, and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I remembered. "I'm so sorry."
"I'm sorry, Charles, but your apologies doesn’t change anything. Your apologies don't change the fact that I feel disgust when I look at you. The anguish I feel in my chest when I see you is still the same, and that won't change."
"I understand, but I owed you an apology even if you don't accept it," I agreed. "Goodnight, Y/n."
He left and I locked the door. Those words were haunting my mind, and I swear if I weren't so tired, I would have stayed up all night thinking about it.
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Tag list: @formulas-bitch @nuggetvirgo @lndonrris @cmleitora @janeholt3 @coffeewhore18 @blueflorals @agentadhd @eviethetheatrefreak @honethatty12 @lec-16 @ariamox @boherahpsody @ssararuffoni @leilani13gc @alldaysdreamer @minmira95 @dessxoxsworld @dessxoxsworld @vellicora @meadhbhcavanagh @viramila @lightdragonrayne @444elm0gizm0 @morenofilm @millinorrizz @leclercdream @buendiabebeta @ironmaiden1313 @julesandro @ssararuffoni @sialexia
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nor-4 · 6 months
Note
Can you write Mike being into mean women 👀? Like the reader, working in the same place as him, and is super mean to him during work and he's into that?
Bonus point: they're super sweet to kids, especially to Abby, like a mother figure.
Part Two
OMGOMG I WAS THINKING ON WRITING THAT TOO
Request more guys I'm starting to love writing
Pairings - Mike Schmidt ft. Mean!Reader
Warnings - Cursing and probably offensive jokes
I'll make part two of this cause i really love it
You started working on this weird pizzeria as a janitor weeks ago it's not that much job for you because there's no weird activities the animatronics had made.
It's evening in the morning and mike is already running late for his first day at work, when he arrived he saw a car and the lock is gone. So what does the key for the padlock steve gave him for?
Mike approached the door unlocking the door as he slowly entered the pizzeria as he was greeted by a flickering lights of the welcome sign.
He saw you cleaning the place as a earpods is inserted on your ears, "Another guard again. Then after this shift you'll never come back." That was your greet, you are tired of people going to this place then after the night they wouldn't come back and another person will came again.
"I won't i really need this job." Mike remarked as you looked at him and rolled your eyes out of annoyance "Whatever you say big guy." You said as you continued cleaning as mike finds his way to the monitor.
Mike wouldn't lie he find it attractive, something about you has a hit for him. He hates it when people are mean to him, but you?? Oh God..
He finally learned on how the monitor works as he switch and switch the camera to see where you are cleaning.
He started looking around as he saw a tape that has his name on it he started it as the video showed him everything he needs to know.
As the video ended he started looking around more seeing the locker, as he open the locker as the balloon boy greated him with fear. "Don't hurt yourself just because of a toy." You remarked as you sweep into his way going outside the door.
You scared him more than the balloon boy scared him he is so head over heels to you, mike stopped thinking about the toy as he started wearing the vest.
It didn't took long for vanessa to come and visit at the pizzeria. "Hey shen, come in." You dryly said as it was raining outside for vanessa to be outside. Shen is your nickname for vanessa it's simple you accidentally pronounced vanessa's name as "vanesha" that's how shen is created.
"Ohh hi mike i see you are already here and this is (y/n) she's a janitor for like a week." Vanessa said as she made you both greet yourselves, "Nice to meet you." mike said he's so nervous but he is dedicated to meet you.
"You too.." You said as you came back to cleaning while vanessa showed mike the badges as an official pizzeria guard. "is she always been that mean?" Mike asked out of nowhere, he also didn't know why he asked it.
"Hmm i tell you always, but you'll get used to it then she'll cool down a little bit." Vanessa said as she started putting the badge on mikes vest, everything went well until you guys have to go home cause the shift is over. That makes mike feel a little bit sad since he know he's gonna wait for long hours, hmm seems like he has work crush now.
The next next night mike bring abby with him since max never came after the whole stealing thing on the pizzeria.
As every night you were always there first so mike didn't really struggle much as you already started cleaning.
"good evening (y/n)" mike greeted you as you turned around seeing a little girl beside him which excites you, "Ohh hi little girl.." You greeted the child beside mike waving to her completely ignoring mike's greet, as vanessa said he already got used to it on how many times he had tried talking to you.
"I'm (Y/n), what's your name?" You asked as you kneeled into her level as she gave the same energy you had, "I'm abby.." Abby responded as she shyly admired your beauty.
"Nice to meet you abby." You said as you smiled at her, "Mike how could you make abby stay this late." you scolded mike as he tried explaining but you shush him bringing abby with you into the room where mike works as you grab a few seats a long the way to make a fort for abby.
"How do you know i love fort?" Abby curiously asked as you started making the fort, "I don't really, but when i was a kid i used to love forts so i just thought you would like it." you explained as you are making everything perfect for abby to sleep.
"Are you hungry?" You asked abby as she sat beside the fort, "I'm not that hungry but thank you." abby said as she smiled seeing the fort as mike stand leaning at the door as he adored how you manage to gain abby's trust.
"Good night abby.." you said with a smile as you cover her up with blanket as she fall asleep fast.
"Stop staring and start helping me clean schmidt." You said as you stood up coming back to your mean self which mike really loved but seeing you act so motherly to abby makes him really feel happy.
Both of you started cleaning around the place which made both of you really tired especially thinking on how big the place is and stacking up the heavy chairs. Because of tiredness both of you decided to sleep on where the monitor is.
Another hour had passed as abby was woken up by a voice calling her, she is quick to respond as she crawled out of the forst seeing both you deeply asleep. She tried lightly pushing mike but he is still asleep.
Abby started walking around the place going to the main place where the animatronics are. Abby greeted the animatronics as it started approaching her.
Mike is already have with his dream as he is woken up by you "Mike! Mike wake the fuck up! Abby is gone." You said as you panickly said as you heard a scream making both of you run into the dining area.
"Abby!" Mike yelled as you guys saw the animatronics circling around abby as she kept on screaming, it didn't take a while for the animatronics to look both of you as fear creeped you.
As mike picked up a chair as if it has any use as the bear animatronics approached him, "Hey.. They're wouldn't stop thought i was gonna die. Freddy this is my brother mike and that's (y/n)." Abby said as she made freddy acknowledge both of you.
"Abby what is this?" Mike terrifiedly asked as freddy couldn't stop staring at him like a mad man, as he turned to you as you greet him with a wave. "Come on i wanna meet you the others." Abby said to mike as she grab your hands to meet the other animatronics.
"So this is bonnie, foxy and chica." Abby stated their name as mike slowly walked on where both of you and abby are standing.
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year
Text
Little Traitor
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Wolff!Reader
Requested: Yes/No
Request: Hello there, I was thinking of a Max x Wolff!reader. She and Toto doesn’t have a great relationship because he was so focused about F1 that he started forgetting her (birthdays, holidays etc.). Her and Max met when they where young and has stayed in contact, even starting a relationship. Anyways they get caught by some rando (media or fan) and She and Toto get in a fight. Red Bull team is very supportive and makes her one of them.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Stalking mentioned, Christian is actually nice, Toto is a dick, daddy issues
Part 2: Little Backstabber
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It was no secret in F1 that you are Toto Wolff's daughter from his first marriage. Everyone thought he dotted on you like he does, Jack, and you let people believe that, but it was far from the truth. He didn't pay you any attention.
He didn't mean for it to happen, but when Lewis started to win repeatedly, he forgot about you. First, it was your birthday. It landed on a race, and you let it go when he called to apologize for not wishing you a happy birthday. But, he started to forget more important dates, your middle school graduation, holidays, high school graduation....even college graduation.
You kept brushing it off, but it has strained your relationship significantly, but you always put on that smile around cameras and acted like everything was okay and perfect.
When you were at the track, it wasn't for your father; no, it was for a World Champion, not the one your father wanted. But one of his biggest rivals.
Max and you met when you were both young, maybe 12-13 years old, and stayed in touch, even evolving into more than friends. Late-night talks turned into late-night kisses, and sleepovers turned into doing more than just sleeping. You hated hiding this from the world, but you both agreed it was for the best.
Max was well aware of your strained relationship with your father and knew that you'd need to keep this relationship hidden if you wanted anything to do with Toto. He hated it. He wanted everyone to know you were his and he was yours, but he kept it tight-lipped out of respect for you.
"Honestly, I'm tired of hiding." You whisper softly one night. It was a warm Baku night as you both walked around the city, enjoying its life and the people living their lives.
"What?" Max was shocked to hear your confession. He knew how serious and badly it would go if word got out about him dating the Mercedes Princess.
"I'm tired of it all, Max. I don't care if Dad isn't happy with it or if it breaks our relationship this time, I don't want to hide anymore." Your hand squeezes his as Max nods, kissing your head.
Unknown to both of you, someone was already one step ahead and working on the year's drama with one single article. The following day, you feel Max's arm tighten as he still sleeps, but your phone vibrates as you reach for it. Sleep-covered eyes squint as you read the notification.
Mercedes Princess? More Like Verstappen's Queen. Get the inside scoop on how the Mercedes Princess falls from grace and into the arms of her biggest rival.
"No, no, no, no! Oh god, NO!" You scream, covering your mouth as you scroll through the article, pictures upon pictures of you and Max through the years.
Max sits up quickly, hearing your frantic yells, and looks around, pulling you into him, worried someone was in here when they should be.
"Snoepje? What's wrong?" His voice thick with sleep as he starts to wake up fully. He freezes, seeing the tears run down your face, and snatches your phone as he stares in disbelief.
It starts with your first date, to your first kiss, and fucking he'll even your first night together. Of course, those photos didn't show it; it was clearly implied when it highlighted the different appearance of his girlfriend the following day. Max reads the article, his grip on you tightening with quiet anger as it deeply details your relationship and how you kept it hidden from your father.
"Fuck, baby, I-" He closes his mouth, unsure what to say to you. How does he apologize for this, for this blatant invasion of privacy.
"He's going to see this. He's going to" You stop before swallowing; it feels like knives going down your throat.
"It's okay; listen, let me get rid of this article first. This is so beyond the line of privacy; I mean fuck, they had to be stalking us." Max seethes tearing out of bed and shoving on sweatpants.
You sit in bed, mind reeling at what you should say to your father, how you will face everyone, or even in public. Grabbing your phone, you hit trends and see you trending number 1; you itched to click on your name, but you are terrified of all the hate you'll see. Instead, you focus on Max's voice, the anger and hurt he felt on the phone, knowing he was probably talking to Christian.
Max walks back into the room and shakes his head. "They're going to do everything they can to get rid of the article, but-" "It's already out there." You finish for him making Max nod his head, sitting across from you.
"If you want to go home, I understand." He whispers, making your head snap up.
"I'm not leaving you. Are you kidding me? Max, if I left now, that'd only make things worse, Dad.....the fans....it'll be a blood bath." You whisper, hanging your head again, grabbing Max's hand and squeezing it.
"No, I don't want to expose you to this part. I'm used to it, alright, there's no shame in wanting to leave Y/n, but I refuse to stand by while this happens." Max begs as he pulls you close, kissing you gently.
"Max, my father is probably tearing his hotel room apart." You whisper, cringing at how he might be reacting right now.
"Okay and? I love you, you're happy and respected, and fuck, I love you. So what if I've defiled you over and over and ov-" You laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly as he smiles, glad to see that smile.
"Come on, we've got qualifying, and I don't want you leaving my side," Max mumbles kissing your lips as he drags himself away from you to get dressed.
Pandemonium. It was utter chaos when you and Max arrived at the paddock. It was ordinarily busy on Qualifying days, but since the article dropped this morning, fans, commentators, and media have been everywhere trying to get a glimpse of you two or even a statement.
Red Bull took you in without even a second thought and protected you from the cameras as they pushed everyone away. Even posting a statement on all social media pages about legal consequences for the article and anyone who comes to the paddock without permission.
Max plants you next to Christian, who decided to sit inside the garage and next to you, knowing Max would trust him to keep an eye out. Christian doesn't say a word to you as he talks to Max about what needs to be done to get the Pole position, and you just sit there watching people move about, not a single soul questioning why you were there and not at Mercedes.
"He's got it, don't you think?" You snap out of your trance and look at Christian, who's staring at you, waiting for an answer.
"Wha-? Oh yeah, he's amazing. He'll get pole." You mumble, staring at the screens, not wanting to see the pity in his eyes.
"I knew." He blurts out, making you turn, shock all over your face.
"He told me 2 years ago after his first Championship win. Confessed everything. Started asking me to watch you and Toto to ensure everything was okay. I didn't question it, but it didn't take long to figure out why. If...if you ever need a place to escape to, me and Geri have a place open for you...always." He mumbles before putting his headphones on and watching the screens with crazy lines and dots.
"Thank you." You whisper, putting on similar headphones as you watch Max dominate.
"Yes!" you scream, tackling your boyfriend, who just secured pole position. Max laughs as he holds you close, spinning you around; he couldn't be happier. He got pole, he doesn't have to hide his feelings, and he's holding you in his arms. Nothing could ruin this.
"Y/n Wolff." A dark German voice seethes, making everyone in the garage freeze. Even the cameras scurry off, knowing to not broadcast this.
"Papa." You whisper as Max sits you down, standing half in front of you, blocking your view of your father.
''Excuse me, Max, but I need to speak with my daughter." Toto drawls out, but you know that tone. It was. I'm super pissed and about to yell tone.
"Actually, I'm okay right here, sir," Max smirked, but it was a nervous reflex. He didn't want to start a fight, but he would for you.
"Max, it's fine. Go cool off, okay." You mumble, pushing the Dutch driver away, who looks back and forth between you two before kissing your forehead.
"I love you." He whispers for only you to hear before walking away, but just enough to still be within earshot.
"How dare you!" Toto spits, making you flinch slightly; thankfully, Max doesn't notice it as you feel like a little girl again when Toto used to punish you.
"Papa-" "Don't. I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses out of your mouth. How dare you betray this family." He snarls, and that makes you snap.
"Family? What family Papa? We haven't been a family in years! You don't even remember my birthday, much less what I like! When Lewis started to win, you forgot about me, and now you want to act like we're some perfect family!" You yell, everyone watching.
Max takes a couple steps forward, but Christian and Checo stop him letting you finally stand up to your father.
"You're my daughter! And your fucking the enemy!" Toto roars as you just stare at him in disbelief.
"Hey, that's enough!" Max yells, but you grab his arm, stopping him as you finally look your father in the eye.
"He's not the enemy Papa. He's the man who loves me! Who remembers my birthday? Who was there for my high school AND college graduation? By the way, you said you were too busy to even come too, no more likely you forgot and made up an excuse. He's the man I love and would marry and spend the rest of my life with because he's always there for me when you never were. He showed me how I should be treated when all you did was lie and forget about my existence." You scream
Strong arms wrap around you as you turn into your boyfriend's chest, sobbing as he holds you close. You hear people shouting and Christian kicking your father out and slamming the garage door.
"I've got you, okay? I love you." Max whispers, trying his hardest to calm you down.
"Don't leave me." You whisper, making Max's arms crush you as he whispers soft Dutch words promising never to leave you.
He wasn't the enemy of your story; he was the Prince Charming.
"Come on, let's go to the motor home," Christian whispers to the both of you as the guys move quickly to get everyone away as you bolt for the motor home.
Christian stops you both at the door and smiles. "You're our family." He smiles, making fresh tears appear as you move to hug the Red Bull principal.
"Thank you for everything." You whisper, glad to have found this family.
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sofiareidings · 7 months
Text
Coffee Runs
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Summary: The guy who's been coming to the cafe you work at finally asked why you've never called him by his name.
A/N: I'm sorry this story is so late, especially since I missed Monday's post. School has been so busy this week and I've also had a bunch if extracurricular lately. I'll try and be more on time from now on (Don't hold me to that) Also! I got the idea for this one shot from @hanllo-kitty
Word Count: 0.8k
Song Suggestions: Invisible String - Taylor Swift
It was a good job, a great job really. The cafe was in a nicer part of town and people would subconsciously give nice tips so your pay was good. Rarely were customers terrible. Most people that came in were students or really busy people rushing in and going.
There were a few regulars. Like Joe, Joe was an eighty year old man who came in everyday for a coffee and a sandwich. While he waited he would talk about the lotto numbers and how his kids were doing. There was also Lola, she was a journalist who spent most of her day sitting in the corner of the cafe while refilling the same cup until closing.
But there was only one regular you would think about while getting ready for work.
Come on, I don't know his name. Don't shoot the messenger.
He'd been coming in for the past three months almost everyday, right after the cafe opened for a coffee. He always looked a little tired and acted like it too. He barely made conversation and normally shuffled out of the store in the same fashion as the other overworked people; quickly.
You hadn't learned his name yet. He always seemed to forget to say it when you asked, which resulted in you making up something.
"Guy with the sweater vest!"
"Guy in the purple!"
"Guy with the scarf!"
You get the point.
He was your favourite regular because of his looks. God, even when he was incredibly sleep deprived he looked beautiful. He had brown hair that fell just below his sharp jaw. Brown eyes that always happened to be in the light from the cafe window, making the small gold flakes in his eyes shine. He was normally dressed in a sweater vest and neutral pants, he probably worked at some type of office. The one part of him that stood out in his outfits were his converse, odd for the rest of his outfit. You could've sworn a few times you saw brightly coloured mismatched socks.
***
The sound of the cafe bell echoed through the nearly empty shop, having only opened half an hour ago. Smiling in the direction of the person walking in you quickly noticed it was 'Guy with *whatever he had on*" who came in. Something was different, he had thick glasses on. That was new.
"Hey, just the regular coffee and donut?" You put the order into the computer, looking back up at him. Taking in the new look.
"Yeah, thanks." His lips creased into a line, you called it a tired smile, the same one he made everyday. He handed over his money and poured the change into the tip jar then stepped back to wait for his order.
A couple minutes later you came back to the counter with his order. "Guy with the glasses!"
He did his usual, smiled and grabbed his order saying bye. But just when he reached the threshold of the door he paused and turned. "Why do you do that?"
Having already turned around you paused, this was the first time he'd talked to you in a clear voice. You weren't really sure what he meant. "Do what? Did I get your order wrong?"
He cleared his throat and seemed a little frustrated. "You never say my name, you just call me guy with something. Is it just to annoy me?"
"What? No, you've just never told me your name." Laughing a little, realising the misunderstanding.
"I didn't?" His face changed to confusion, "Oh my gosh, I didn't." He realised his mistake then his face flushed a shade of red.
"Don't worry, it's okay. Guy with the glasses." You laughed, looking around the cafe for a minute, strange it was still pretty empty.
"I am so sorry, I thought I told you and you just wanted to annoy me. I feel like a jerk, you seem so nice." Genuinely sorry he apologised profusely. "Can I make it up to you?"
Deciding to take the chance, you'd been daydreaming about this guy for months. "Well, maybe you could take me on a date." A little shocked by your own boldness, your face went up like twelve degrees.
"Uh, yeah…" He trailed off, clearly flustered. "Yeah, I would really like that."
"Well then, it's a date." You beamed, internally jumping up and down out of excitement. Since when were you so forward? He made that smile he made everyday before turning towards the door again.
That's when you realised.
"Wait!" You shouted, louder than you expected. Causing your coworker to drop a cup. "You still haven't told me your name."
"It's Spencer. I'll make sure to be back tomorrow." He nodded again and chuckled lightly before finally walking through the door.
God could tomorrow morning come any quicker.
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distorted59 · 7 months
Note
First of all, I love your works soooo much! And I love you too
Please I really want Kirk Headcanons. He’s the love of my life! I want to cuddle him and also something smut things too
thank you lovely!! I'm sorry for taking so long, i hope you enjoy!! <3
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He’s really shy!! When you first met him, he was very nervous. Blushing and stumbling over his words. (You thought it was absolutely adorable of course!!!) When he first shook your hand, he felt electricity running through his body. After a while he fell right into your trap, he was hooked. Begging for more every day. 
He gets flustered a lot when he’s around you. He would mess up riffs during rehearsals or stumble over his words. One time he didn’t sleep very well, because he was overthinking all night. (May or may not have been horny all night) and he’d show up tired and sexually frustrated. You’d welcome him with open arms and took a nap together, when he woke up (hard) he got nervous. Your smell and arms around him drove him crazy. You noticed him stiffening once he woke up and quickly figured out what was happening. You’d start kissing his neck and rubbing him over his jeans. “Let me take care of you, baby.”
loves to eat pussy. Like he devours it. All of the boys would be into it but he’s addicted to it. Very good at it as well. He’d pull you to the edge of the bed so he could grind himself against the mattress while eating you out.
“Fuck, you taste so good, baby.” Kirk moans against your cunt. His hips are unrhythmic and desperately grinding against the bed. 
you moan and tug on his hair, keeping him in place right between your thighs. 
“Hmm!” you let out a squeal as he hits just the right spot. Kirk is humping against the bed like an animal. 
“gonna make me cum just like this, honey, fuck!” 
I feel like he gives the best hugs ever! Loves to cuddle and hold you close to him. 
80s Kirk is such a cutie, I just wanna hold him and kiss all his worries away. like, he’s such a geek with all his comics and action figures. Imagine going with him when he wants to buy new toys.
“Oh my god, babe!” Kirk whisper-yells at you and holds up a new issue of ‘Monster Magazine’. 
“Is that the new one, baby?” you smile at him, finding it overly adorable how excited he always gets.
"Yeah!" He looks at the back. “I’m gonna get this.” 
He smiles excitedly at you and kisses your cheek. You giggle and blush a bit, not expecting the kiss. 
“Can I read it after you’re done?” 
“Of course, baby!” Kirk grabs your hand. “We’ll read it together!”
Talking ab horror…. he would be into monster roleplay…. HE WOULD DONT DENY IT. Like him dressing up as dracula and you are the girl who got lost….. like!!!????? and he finds you and traps you and bites you and fucks the absolute life out of you. Thank you for listening. 
Also, the fact that in all those videos where he makes a joke and no one laughs??? c'mon now… baby is just trying to have some fun :(
his stutter is so cute!!! he still gets nervous sometimes and can’t look you in the eye or form a sentence. but you don’t mind. <3
I have been thinking about this a lot lately; giving Kirk head for the first time. him all whiny and excited, not knowing what to expect. 
“I’ll be gentle, okay?” You look up at him through your lashes. 
“Mhm.” He has his fingers over his mouth, unable to even speak. You stroke him lazily and smile at him. He throws his head back and lets out a huge moan when you lick the tip. 
“Ooh~, baby!” He whines. “ngh.. fuck!” his chest moves up and down and he tries to hold your hair back for you. 
you lick him from the base up and put him in your mouth. You’d think he’s seeing stars, cause he lets out the most heavenly moans you’ve ever heard. 
“feels so good, baby~”
yes, just a silly little thought.
the older he gets the rougher he gets, i feel. I mean, the fame and money definitely upped his confidence. which isn’t a bad thing AT ALL.
One of my favorite eras of him is htsd, his hair is starting to gray a little bit, and his skin has that old deep tan. the mustache, the goatee. yes just yes. 
I feel like he’s such a tease!!??  imagine going out for dinner with some friends, or the rest of the band. and he’s touching you all over. 
“Does my baby wanna feel good?” he slides his hand over your thigh. He’s been touching your thighs an kissing your neck all fucking night. 
“Kirk, please.” you whimper. “Not here, why here?” 
“Why here?” he smirks against your neck and moves up to whisper in your ear. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this as much as I do, princess.”
GIMME THAT I NEED IT NOW
He’s a really sweet boy, has a kind heart and actually looks too cute to be in a metal band. His voice is so sweet, his hands are very soft. (they become more and more calloused over the years). He would trace his fingers over your skin and whisper sweet things in your ears and place soft kisses on your neck. 
ALSO Kirk with eyeliner!???? just imagine you making him feel so good after a show or sum and he starts crying in pleasure and it just drips down his face!!???? His face is messy and his eyes are red with tears as he craves more and more of you.
actually need that rn
and going to the beach with him!! maybe he'll teach you how to surf or just chill with you enjoying some drinks in the shade and going for a casual swim. <3
547 notes · View notes
lewsnumerounofan · 9 months
Text
party foul (jeremiah fisher x reader)
summary: so what if you're in love with your best friend, jeremiah fisher? one drunk kiss won't change anything. right?
notes: not biblically accurate conrad, teen drinking, kissing, 3k words, reader previously dated co**ad, angst/miscomm., not proof read at all
+ part 2
+ i never keep the same tense i'm so sooryim gooo fuckjuhnbsorry oh my god and dw abt the header image!!!!!! it's okay!!!!!
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kissing jere was easy.
it was the first thing you noticed. how easy it was to let his lips slant over yours, to tilt your head back at the greedy request of his hands, to forget about the party and conrad and the house.
it was just him and the feel of his mouth on yours.
you hadn't expected this, to say the least. in fact, you'd been bracing for an awkward and mostly miserable night. ever since conrad and you had split back in june, things had been awful. the breakup had been bad itself--getting ditched at prom without explanation was one thing--but watching conrad get back with nicole a week later was even worse.
so you were pleasantly surprised with yourself when you decided to go to the fisher's goodbye party, despite whatever tension there might be between you and conrad.
if you were being honest with yourself though, you mostly had jeremiah to thank. you two had been best friends since childhood, but ever since his brother had broken your heart, jere had been there for you. all the time, really. he'd drive down on weekends to check up on you. and when susannah had gotten worse, you'd driven up to make sure he was eating and sleeping too.
so of course he'd been able to convince you to come stay, waving off your concerns about conrad. i want you there, he'd said. i really want you there. and so you'd come. you arrived late, tired from the hours of highway driving. already the house was packed with hap hazardously parked cars and drunk teenagers. the music was loud even on the warm streets outside, and you couldn't help but feel excited as you pulled your bag out of your car and started towards the party.
taylor was the one who opened the door for you. she launched herself into a hug, giggling and shrieking as you two swung around.
"oh my god. you have no idea how happy i am to see you," she yelled, dragging you into the crowded house.
together you fumbled upstairs, eventually breaking into one of the larger rooms. various assortments of air mattresses and water beds covered the floor. jere had called you as soon as they'd gotten back from the boardwalk about julia's suprise moving. it wasn't often you heard him so... defeated.
"you can drop your stuff wherever," said taylor, "but the one in the corner is jeremy's."
she didn't even bother to hide her grin as you slapped her arm. nothing, not even your best kept secret, made it past taylor.
"shut up. you can't say anything to him or i swear i'll kill you," you promised, only half joking.
"oh please. he hasn't stopped talking about you the whole trip. it's disgusting."
you tried not to smile at that--jere talked about you? i mean, he'd called you just about every day for the last few months. more, on days when things were hard. but still, you felt almost nervous at the thought of seeing him now. of what it might be like between you.
your thoughts were cut off by a shout of your name. running into the room was belly. well, not running--rolling.
"oh my god bell what are you wearing?" you asked. it was too late though, because she was wrapping you up in a wobbly, crushing hug.
"roller skates? duh? they're an old pair of susannah's," she said.
you'd missed belly. she looked fucking adorable in her little vintage number, and you hugged her again just because. over her shoulder you could see steven grinning, and conrad too. you waved to the later while steven strode over, ruffling your hair before taking your bag from you.
"long time no see, city-girl," he said.
"yeah yeah yeah. just be nice to my bag, okay? it's got some very delicate presents," you said. steven raised his eyebrows but did as you said, placing your bag onto the bed taylor had indicated earlier. jere's bed. taylor and steven met eyes and winked--uh oh. the last thing you needed was them trying to set you up with your best friend. your best friend who you're in love with, something inside you said. you tried your best to strangle it.
"hey."
this time it was conrad, who was sporting a pair of atrocious sunflower sunglasses on the top of his head.
"hey. i like the glasses," you said, doing your best to smile. it was weird to talk like this to him. you were so angry and embarrassed and sad because of him for so long, and now there was just... nothing. and it felt okay.
"uh, yeah. nicole--nicole got them for me."
he looked sheepish, blushing in a way that used to have you fawning. now you just did your best to nod, saying, "well, she's certainly got a good eye for fashion."
you were saved from the conversation by steven's cough. he stood by the doorway, impatiently waving you towards the party.
"cmon guys, can we hurry this up?"
"yeah, gimmie one sec," you promised. returning to your bag you pulled out the liquor you'd secured on your way there, the bottles heavy in your hands.
"see," you said, turning back to your friends, "presents."
-
downstairs was even louder than you thought it would be. belly had gone all out for the party--strobe lights blared in every room, a kegger was set up outside, and a dj (was that cam cameron??) was spinning in the living room. you had to admit it: you were having a good time. a really good time. except for, that is, one thing. or person, really. jere was nowhere to be found. he'd even missed out on the group shots you, steven, taylor, belly and conrad had downed first beside the pool and then by the kitchen. jeremiah never missed group shots.
a little more than drunk now, you pushed off from your spot on the counter to find your bestfriend.
"city-girl, where you going?" asked steven.
"i'm gonna go find jere. i haven't seen him since i got in."
"i'll come with you," a voice spoke up.
it was conrad, who looked between you and the floor nervously. you didn't miss the questioning looks that pass between taylor and belly. you shrug at them--a little nervous, but not enough to turn him down in front of all your friends.
"uh, yeah sure."
so you and conrad made your way back through the party, scanning couches and corners for jeremiah. by the time you hit the stairs you were both sweaty and annoyed. you had come all this way to see him, and all of a sudden he'd disappeared.
"he's not picking up any of my calls," said conrad, pulling his phone away from his ear.
"me neither," you admitted, letting yourself swing around the banister to sit at the bottom of the staircase. cautiously, conrad gestured to empty landing beside you.
"mind if i join?"
you nod, scooching over to make room. conrad looked bigger than last time you'd seen him. he looked stronger too. for a while after susannah died he'd looked like a corpse--pale and skinny and only half there. even you could admit you were glad to see him doing so much better.
"hey, look i didn't really tag along to search for jere," conrad said, glancing back at you. shocker.
"i uh," he cleared his throat, "i mostly just wanted to apologize. for how things ended. i know i messed up really bad and i wanted to say i'm sorry."
in the hazy blue and purple's of the dance floor below, conrad's steel-blue eyes were genuine. for the first time that night they held yours steadily.
"i was hurting, and let myself fall on you for comfort even when i knew you weren't who i wanted. who i needed. and it wasn't fair to you. i know that now, and i'm sorry it took me so long. i'm really, really sorry."
huh. you hadn't really expected that one either. but it was nice to hear him say those words. you liked conrad. he was a good guy who'd had a rough hand delt to him. and yeah, he hadn't done right by you. but like susannah had always repeated:
"no harm no foul," you said, and let yourself smile at him. he looked relieved as he smiled back, no doubt recognizing the reference to his mother.
"you're happy now, i take it? with nicole?" you ask.
"yeah. more than happy, actually. don't know what i did to deserve her."
you're happy for him, in that moment. really happy.
"what about you? you finally stopped messing around and admitted your feelings to jere?" he asked.
"huh?" you drop, mouth open. there's no way.
"what," he chuckled, grinning harder at your shocked expression, "like it's not obvious you two are crazy for each other."
you can feel the blush spreading across your cheeks now, stomach skipping at his words. so they all knew, you realized. does jere?
"he doesn't--you didn't tell him, right?" you said, panic rising.
conrad shakes his head, still looking amused.
"no, but he'd be a fool not to see it. you guys are perfect for each other. really."
"thanks, conrad."
and you mean it--it's been months of awkwardness between you. and now you just feel... good. you feel like you've got your friend back. so you lean over and hug him, letting yourself remember that before your fling you were friends, and returning back to it feels comforting and warm.
"thank you, for hearing me out. i'm glad we can be back to normal now," he said into your shoulder.
"friends again?" you ask.
"definit--"
"what the fuck?"
-
it's jeremiah. he stands at the top of the stairs, eyes wide. he's wearing the ariana grande merch you'd gotten him. he looks the same and yet--
and yet something in your chest fizzes and your stomach starts running circles as you look at him. you missed him. and not because he was your best friend.
"jere--it's not what it looks like," said conrad.
and then you realized he did look different. the jeremiah you knew was always grinning about some secret joke, or making fun of belly or steven. he never looked... betrayed like this. and he certainly never looked at you with disgust. with anger.
"what the fuck are you guys doing?" he asked again, but this time he didn't even look at you.
"nothing, jere. we were just talking," said conrad.
you cringed at his words. they might be true, but they sure didn't sound good.
"yeah, sure," laughed jere. you'd never heard him laugh like that. it made your skin prickle.
"c'mon, you know i'd never do that-" conrad started.
jeremiah was faster though. he was up in conrad's face in a second, pushing him into the wall. you'd never seen him like this. he wasn't an aggressive guy; even when the brothers fought it was never violent.
"don't fucking lie, con. you were just waiting to take her back weren't you? waiting until you knew it'd hurt me the most, huh?"
you felt his words viscerally, like they were being penned onto your skin. hurt him the most? it was the closest to a confession you'd gotten, but it all felt wrong.
by now, partygoers on the main floor had started to notice the commotion. people were pointing, some even starting to pull out their phones. great.
"jere," you called. he paused, bright blue eyes on you. even now, fighting with his brother, jeremiah looked beautiful. maybe you had had a bit too much to drink.
"jere, please let it go. conrad isn't a part of this," you murmured. though you didn't break eye contact, you could see his hands loosen around his brother's shirt in your peripheral. jaw clenched, he heeded your wishes, giving a final shove to conrad before breaking away. he walked quickly down the stairs and into the throngs of people below.
"jere, wait up!" you call, desperately trying to follow the broad shape of his back through the crowd. jeremiah didn't bother trying to accommodate your smaller strides, and you almost lost him a few times in the packed house.
"would you please slow down? jere," you said again. by now you were out of the house, dodging pool floaties and scattered drinks. the blonde made no indication of hearing you as he kept striding towards the beach.
"jeremiah!"
finally he whipped around. he still looked mad--the set of his jaw, the notching of his eyebrows--but under all of it, he just looked sad. you hated seeing him upset, and you hated knowing you might've been the cause of it.
"jere, please. what's going on?" you asked, this time softly. he was close to you now. you could see his heavy breathing, could smell the perfume he always wore.
"how would i know. you're the one who's looking all close with your ex--my brother--conrad," he spits. he swallows hard, like he's checking himself.
"it was always you and conrad. even when we were kids it was that way. i was stupid to think it could've been any different."
he turned away from you, gaze hard. oh, jere. you have no idea, you thought. it was him--how could he not see that? how could he really think it was conrad you cared about?
you couldn't deny it any longer: you loved jere. and you definitely weren't about to let him walk away thinking otherwise.
quickly, without letting yourself dwell on it, you grabbed jeremiah's hand. he turned back, eyes wide. and you kissed him.
kissing jere was easy.
it was the first thing you noticed. how easy it was to let his lips slant over yours, to tilt your head back at the greedy request of his hands, to forget about the party and conrad and the house.
it was just him and the feel of his mouth on yours.
and then everything was static. everywhere he touched you--the long, lean press of his body to your front, the sharp slide of his jawline under your palm, the firm press of his hands at your waist. every sense was filled with him and his warmth and the way he smelled.
you were gasping into the kiss, hyperaware of the small noises he made when you pulled on his curls. of just how tall he was, how much he had to lean down to hold you like this.
you barely broke away enough to say, "jere, nothing happened with conrad. we were talking about you-"
"don't care," he said, voice rough. because he was too busy lifting you onto one of the wooden boardwalk rails, muscled arms flexing in the distant party lights.
you barely had time to settle before he was kissing you again, sloppy this time, like he owned your mouth and wanted you to know it. you felt hot everywhere, as his hands pulled apart your thighs and he crowded his broad body into you.
you'd kissed once before for a game of truth or dare. it had been sweet and short, and you both had been teased about it for years afterwards. this was different.
wholly different, you realized, as jeremiah's lips sought out the hot skin of your neck. there was no place except where he touched you; the noise of the party, the lull of the waves on the beach, the quiet way he murmured against your skin.
"jere," you said, because there was no room in your mind for anything or anyone else. he hummed as his canines bit lightly at your ear. jere.
greedy for more, you took one of the tan, strong hands holding your face and brought it lower, lower until it rested over your frantically beating heart. jere had pulled away to watch your ministrations, cursing softly as his hand fell over your chest.
"you sure?" he asked, and his voice sounded hoarse.
"yeah, course jere. it's you."
something behind his eyes sparked at the trust you promised. it's always been you. kissing you once more, gentler this time, jere let his hand run up and under the vintage bathing suit top you'd stolen from your mom for the party.
skin on skin, jeremiah was soft and warm. he was breathing heavy as you as he felt you up. forehead to yours, gaze keen as he watched you pant and squirm.
"this okay?"
you could only nod, eyes drawn tight at the sensation. he kissed you again, his touch more confident as you clung to his shoulders.
you'd messed around with conrad a few times. it had felt good. fun, even. but he'd never had you reeling like this, never made you feel like everywhere he touched was fire. that feeling was reserved for jere.
and as his thumb circled your nipple and his teeth pulled at your lip, you realized you were burning and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it. best friend or not, jere was the only one who could make you feel like this. ever.
you pulled away from his mouth. he looked concerned, and you could feel him move his hands away from you.
"sorry if i..." he started, blue eyes near scared as he watched you.
"no, jere it's not that. it's, it's just that i-"
"hey, there's my man! where the fuck were you dude?"
it was steven. fucking steven. on his arm was taylor, who grinned manically when she saw your mussed hair and blushing expression. please not now, taylor. please don't mess this up any more.
but drunk as they were, the pair didn't notice your nervous expression. instead, steven laughed and said, "so did you finally tell her you're in love with her or what?"
-
jere's face dropped. whatever softness you'd shared moments earlier was gone. his mouth set flat, hands that had been mapping out your body now closed into fists.
"fuck you, steven."
taylor's eyes were on you now, finally recognizing the tears you tried to blink away. with a hand on his chest she held steven back, some wordless communication passing between them. if you hadn't been feeling your own heart break you would've been trying to tease them about it.
instead, you chased after jeremiah's retreating figure.
"jere, will you please listen!" you called. but he was stubborn--you knew this better than anyone. one more time you tried, shouting his name over the stupidly loud party.
he whipped back around, blue eyes sharp.
"just stay away from me, okay? why don't you go find conrad to wipe your tears," he snapped. for a moment, jere looked shocked at his own words too. but then he was shaking his head, tearing his gaze away from yours as he continued through the crowds towards the house. away from you.
and this time, as people collapsed into the space all around you, their yelling and singing drowning out even your thoughts, you knew there was no use calling for him.
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First time
Series link
A/n: Do not engage if you don't like smut, thank you.
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I roll out of bed, not being able to fall asleep. There's been a lot on my mind lately, and I can't seem to shake it off. I walk over to the window, peeking over my shoulder to see if Jack is still asleep.
I'm staying with him for the night after we attended a celebration for his record label earlier.
In my 22 years and a few months of living, I have never had sex before. I've had sexual interactions before but never had a penis in my vagina.
It feels so embarrassing 'cause Jack is so experienced and I, on the other hand, don't even know how to suck a cock to begin with. After what happened at his party, I told him about my virginity, and nothing has happened ever since.
He's not touching my butt anymore and hasn't even let me sit on his lap to avoid unexpected hard-ons. And honestly, I want to feel him. 
It's not that he's being distant, but I just want him to be less cautious around me. I don't want him to apologize for squeezing my thigh or for pressing his dick against my ass when we're cuddling. I want him to take charge.
I hear shuffling behind me, indicating that Jack is waking up. U turn around and give him a soft smile even though he can't really see it in the darkness.
"What are you doing up this late?" His raspy voice muffles as he covers himself.
"I couldn't sleep." I slowly walk over to the door. "I'm just gonna get something to drink."
I walk outside and down the hall to the kitchen. I grab a bottle of water and lean against the fridge taking a big gulp, letting my eyes shut.
How am I going to tell him how I feel? I really want this. I hate it, and I'm so mad at myself for it. But I need this. I need him to rut against me and make me explode, not like a bomb but like a woman, so, so badly. God, I need to scream my lungs out as he makes love to me like his eyes promises me every single time he looks at me, ever since I told him about my innocence. I hate this need.
I run my hand over my breasts as I imagine him touching me, planting kisses to my neck. My hand goes further down my body, finding my bud through my pants.
The image of his face planted between my legs pops up in my mind. The way he knew exactly what would give my body the most pleasure drives me insane. It's like he already knew every nook and corner of my body.
"Cheesecake, what are you doing in the dark? Come back to bed." I open my eyes, standing up straight, seeing Jack standing there, rubbing his eyes.
"I was just savoring the water. I'll be right there." I finish the bottle and toss it in the trash can.
"I can't fall asleep if you're so restless." He comes to me and picks me up bridal style, carrying me back to his bedroom. "What's going on in that pretty mind of yours?" He asks as soon as we're cuddled under the sheets, holding my hand in his, placing a kiss on my knuckles.
"You know we can talk about it in the morning. You're so tired already."
"No, tell me."
This is it. I'm about to fight my demons and I don't know if I'll win the battle.
I take a deep breath, collecting my sanity, "What happened between us at your party..."
"Once again, I'm so sorry my love. I didn't think that it would still bother you." He sits up a little, very alert now.
"You have it all wrong." I sit up, crossed-legged, facing him. "I feel like the fact that I'm a virgin scared you from doing it again. You don't even wanna touch me in a way that's intimate. And it's all I want you to do!"
And now I'm going to regret for saying what's about to come next.
I sit a little closer to him, "I'm ready, Jack. I'm ready for you to take my virginity. I've been ready for quite a while now."
Jack looks taken aback. He takes a big gulp and lets his head hang low, "I didn't know that's how you felt. I just didn't want to make it seem that I'm putting pressure on you. It's supposed to be your choice on when and how it should happen."
"Well, can it happen now? I've never wanted this more than anything."
He pushes me down gently, his body hovering over mine, "And you're sure about it?"
I nod and smile nervously. I lean in to kiss him, my heartbeat becoming unsteady. His lips slant over mine, hot and needy as his tongue tastes my mouth and his arms hold me so tightly.
I move my hands down his back, tugging on the hem of his shirt. He neglects my lips for a while to take it off and tosses it to the floor.
My skin feels flush, and my nipples hard as stones. And the ache between my thighs are so intense that it takes a monumental effort to keep me from pulling him closer to me.
His head leans back down again and his mouth closes over my earlobe, his tongue wet and dexterous as he sucks. I go limp in his arms, my eyes fluttering close with a sigh. He hums from deep in his chest, the sound so close to a moan. My body responds in every erogenous zone I have, plus a few I hadn't known existed.
He attaches his lips to my exposed skin just below my ear. I gasp as soon as his lips touch my neck and I can feel his smile against my skin. Another hum, this one edging on a growl. His hips roll into mine to press his hard length against a very, very sensitive part of me.
His dick grows harder by the second, causing the pool in my pants to grow. His head turn so his lips are on mine again. This kiss is way more intense than the one from before, as if he's inhaling my breath.
His hand shifts between us lifting my shirt up, breaking the kiss as he takes it off. He sits up, staring at my chest before he slides his fingers over my nipples. Suddenly he begins moving his hands everywhere, sliding over my arms, caressing my breasts, my hips, my thighs.
He takes my breast in his mouth, drawing circles with his tongue around my nipple. His hand doesn't leave my other boob unoccupied, rolling my rock-hard nipple between his fingers. He switches frequently, making sure my boobs get the same amount of care.
With his mouth and his hands, he slides down my body, leaving a hot, wet trail on my belly. I shiver under his touch and allow my fingers to rake through his hair. He pulls my pants and underwear down in a swift move, pushes my thighs apart, kissing them tenderly, spurring on my gasps and moans. And then he moves slightly, so that his mouth is on my sex.
I gasp and clutch at his head, as his tongue slips through my folds. Jack holds me firmly so that my body stays in place and he casually strokes me, his tongue dipping in and out languidly at first, tasting me, exploring each crevice, moving up to the core, then down again, to where my body throbs. As my groans and writhing increases, seemingly his urgency does as well. He strokes me harder, his mouth covering me, and I shoot my body up, pressing my vagina against his face.
He licks and sucks me into a frenzy of delicious torment, until I'm literally gasping for breath. And then I cry out, "FUCK!" I release an orgasm that was long awaited for.
Jack lifts his head up after placing a gentle kiss on my clit. He sits up in front of me, smiling widely, "I missed doing that."
I blush and cover myself up, realizing how naked I am. Jack is quick to pull the sheet away from my body, exposing myself to him. In silence he stares at my body, swallowing hard, the moonlight emphasizing the side of it.
I take the opportunity to stare at his chest. I haven't really had a good enough look at whenever I've seen him shirtless. The shape of his body is lovely, like the David statue Michelangelo created. I reach out to touch him, to run my fingers across the hard skin of his stomach.
His response is immediate and startling. He sucks his breath and closes his eyes, his body going very still. I run my fingers along the waistband of his trousers, heart pounding, hardly knowing what I'm doing. I dip my fingers inside, pushing his pants and underwear down. My breath hitches in my throat as his erection jumps out, hitting his stomach.
Before I can have a further look at his dick, he leans to the side of the bed, fumbling for the drawer on the nightstand, grabbing a condom. He quickly tears the wrapper with his teeth.
I prop up on my elbows, wondering how he'll fit inside me, "Can I put it on?"
His eyes widen slightly in surprise but nods, "Y-Yeah. Just remember to leave the tip open."
I take the condom from him, rolling it on him, using both my hands to do it, both hands to stroke and tickle him and make him absolutely crazy. Before I can explore any further, he grabs my hands.
"You'll have enough time for that. Right now, it's all about you." He looks in my eyes as he speaks.
I lay back, making myself comfortable. He hovers over me, aligning his shaft with my hole.
"Tell me when to stop, okay." He pecks my lips, resting his head against mine.
"I trust you, Jack."
Just then he pushes himself in slowly. I groan at the discomfort and Jack grunts, trying to fit his whole length inside me. I bite my lip, trying to hold back the tears. Along with the discomfort and pain I'm feeling, I'm also embarrassed. This all comes so easy for him. I don't even know what to do!
Just when more negative thoughts start evading my head, Jack speaks softly, "You're so perfect."
He starts moving his hips slowly. I grip onto his shoulders, trying to bare the pain. A whimper escapes my lips, giving it away.
"Should I stop?" Jack lifts his head, a concerned look on his face.
I look in his eyes reassuringly, "No! Just go a little faster. I'll be fine."
His thrusts become slightly faster as he plants a loving kiss on my lips. The pain eventually vanishes after a while and he speeds the pace up. A shock of ecstasy drowns me in warmth as he thrusts harder. My body is burning with lust fire. Need and desire rages like a storm, and I feel ready to combust. There is something so sexy about this position. As if he's in complete control. All I have to do is let him manipulate my body, and in return, he gives me pleasure like I've never known.
"Yes! Just like that." I let out between moans.
And that was all it took. He groans as I clench around him, his hands in my hair, his eyes wildly roaming my face, driving into me, over and over and over again until he closes his eyes and finds a very hot and very potent release with a strangled cry, which a return with a loud moan, finally reaching my orgasm. With one last, residual shudder, he collapses on top of me and kisses my forehead.
We lay there in silence, catching our breaths. He nuzzles his face in my neck, stroking my head. I can't help but smile at what just happened. My cherry popped, and Jack was the one to do it.
"Bear, I don't think this is gonna be so comfortable for long. You'll crush me."
"Shit, sorry!" He gets off of me, wincing, realizing he was still inside me.
I help him take the condom off and wait for him while he goes to throw it away in the bathroom. I cover myself with the sheets, watching as he moves across the room in the dark.
He gets in beside me, pulling me in a cuddling position, "How do you feel?"
I grin widely as I rub circles on his hairy chest, "It's a little sore down there but otherwise I feel great. I'm lucky that it happened with you."
"I'm just glad you enjoyed it." He strokes up and down my arm. "Next time you can do whatever you want, I promise."
I lean up and kiss him, "I actually like it when you're in control."
"How about we discuss our newly found sex life at breakfast and rest for now?"
"Good idea."
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johnwickb1tsch · 2 months
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bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 16 all chapters
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~AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING, TOXIC POSESSIVENESS , IF SOMEONE TREATS YOU LIKE THIS IN REAL LIFE RUN RUN RUN BC IT WILL NOT TURN OUT WELL U CANT FIX THEM~
-Aware that John Wick knows this city much better than you, you stick to the crowds. You manage to find your way to the Peggy Guggenheim collection, and you hang out there for hours, looking through the art works, but really only half seeing what is in front of you.
You are devastated.
You’ve had controlling boyfriends before, and it was not fun. They seem exciting at first, until the person you were before is eaten alive by their tantrums and their ridiculous expectations as they try to fit you into a box of their own making.
You can’t believe John turned out that way.
Or maybe you can. Maybe you have a fucking type, and you should have seen this coming.
You stay almost until closing, then grab a bite to eat before daring to wander the streets. You find a little walled in park, a courtyard filled with lush greenery and a tinkling fountain. By some miracle, there is only one other couple on a bench at the far end. You practically have the place to yourself, and you sit down on a wrought iron bench with a sigh and eat your sandwich.
You pull out your sketchbook afterwards to pass the time. Your doodling hand wanders, and perhaps its no surprise when you draw John Wick from memory, his proud lips and haunted eyes. There are tears running down your cheeks as you do so. When it gets too much, even though you’re in public, you hang your head and weep into your hands.
Darkness falls, and you know you should be getting back. The bench has long ceased to be comfortable, and yet it’s like you have grown into it, unable to move.
Even with your head down, when someone sits silently down beside you, you just know it’s John.
You do not look at him, and thankfully he does not try to touch you.
“It’s getting late, y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Yes it is,” he insists, sounding almost tired about it. You hate it that your demeanor softens towards him, just a little.
“You broke my heart, Mr. Wick.”
“I was afraid I might.” He is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Would you let me make it up to you?” 
“I'm not sure that's a good idea.” 
“No?”
“No. I think you have a mean streak.” 
He had tried to warn you, you realize, in his way.
God, are you really such a fool?
“Doesn't everyone?” 
You make a sound between your teeth, and he nods like you have said something profound. 
“I'm not a nice man, y/n. But I would be good to you.”
“Like last night? I didn't like that.”
The corner of his mouth curves in a wicked smirk, and your heart skips a beat in your chest, damn him. Was the contrition all an act?
“Yes you did.”
“Not the last part.”
“Hmm. I tried to warn you.”
In the vaguest terms possible, maybe.
“My fanny.”
He raises an eyebrow to that, and you’re not sure why that little gesture wounds you like a knife to the heart all over again. Perhaps because he is beautiful, and even though you know he’s dangerous for you, you still want him so very much.  
You start to cry again, and try to get up from the bench. You need to get away from him, because you can’t think straight when he’s near.
“Y/n, wait.” He catches your wrist, and when you don’t really fight him, he pulls you down into his lap, and goddammit if this isn’t what you’d wanted all along. You feel small in his arms, cradled against his long torso and sheltered in the bend of his neck, even if in your hindbrain you know you are not actually safe at all. He strokes your hair until you quiet, and he kisses your temple like you are something precious.
How can this man be so sweet, just to turn on you?
“Why did you leave me, like that?”
You just do not understand. You could have had a lovely, fulfilling, mind-blowing if not vanilla night together. He’d laid all the groundwork like a master orchestrator, and you would have let him fuck you senseless. Fuck, you wouldn’t have even minded the tying up part, if he just hadn’t humiliated you.
“Because…” His lips ghost along the line of your jaw, and you fight not to squirm as his large hand slides up your thigh, his fingertips feather light on your skin. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says low in your ear, and you hate how it makes you ache between your legs, to hear him talk to you that way.
Outwardly, you do your best to keep your cool.
“And touching your hair made me a bad girl?”
“No.”
“Disobeying you did.”
“Yes.”
“That’s kinda fucked up.”
“Maybe.” He actually seems a little amused by you, which is not the reaction you were expecting. “I like to be in control. But you make me feel...unbalanced.”
“Me?” You sound incredulous. The thought that you could affect this powerful man in such a way seems absurd.
“Yes, you, kitten.”
The urge to demand he not call you that desiccates on your tongue. 
“So...what? You feel the need to take revenge for that?” 
“Maybe. I thought you knew the game we were playing, when you batted those big eyes up at me. Mr Wick, Sir, aren’t I a good girl?” His fingers dig into your thigh with the memory, and you can feel his growing erection beneath you. “But you’re just an innocent, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“You’re used to boys just eating out of the palm of your hand. But I am a man, with a man’s appetites, and a man’s desires.”
He was a little more than that, you reckoned.
“You want to control me.”
“That’s part of it.”
“Why?”
He smirks. “Maybe I had a rough childhood.”
You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
“I want to take care of you.” He kisses your cheek again, and it is gentle and sweet and everything you had wanted from Mr. Wick, before this all went sideways. “I want you to be mine.”
You are not proud of the way those words unleash a fluttering swarm of butterflies in your belly, your breath quickening in your chest. You are proud when you manage to answer, “I don’t need taking care of.”
He just snorts lightly at that, as if it’s not even worth arguing over. “Come back to the hotel room with me. I promise I’ll finish what I started. With interest.” His hand slowly slides up your thigh, just beneath the skirt of your sundress, and you think you might die. You should not want this man, after what he did to you.
The ache between your legs suggests otherwise.
You give yourself some points, when you shake your head.
“No. I’m going back to my hostel.”
The shift in his demeanor gives you whiplash, a thunderhead of a frown pulling his handsome features. “Need to get back to your little friend Javi?” The jealousy in his tone hot as a brand. “Did he try to kiss you again?”
Your heart drops to your feet.
“How did you know he tried to kiss me?” you ask, your voice so small.
That was in Rome, after all.
What should have been obvious before comes crashing in, and you realize what a little fool you’ve been. That feeling that someone’s been watching you, and John’s so convenient and coincidental appearance outside the alley…
“Holy shit. You’ve been following me.”
“I’ve been protecting you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You have no idea what the world is really like, sweetheart. It’s a dangerous place.”
You frown at this.
“So…you think I’m stupid?”
“No, of course not.”
“You think I can’t take care of myself then.”
“I think I found you wandering around here like a lost little lamb. There are monsters here who would have gobbled a sweet little treat like you up in one bite.”
The fact that he sees you that way is more alarming than the thought of some unnamed threat in the shadows.
For some reason it makes you think of the men in the van back home—and how that van was found empty and on fire.
“How do you know about the monsters, John?”
“I just know.”
“You said you weren’t a cop. Were you FBI?”
He glares at you, which you take as a no.
“Interpol?”
You are met with silence, and you nod, mostly to yourself.
“You know about the monsters because you are one.” You think about those fierce looking Italian men with their scars and their bespoke suits. His previous words echo in your memory. Sono retirato.
“Were you in the mob?”
“Not…specifically.”
Then you remember he’d said he was from Belarus.
“Bratva, then.”
You should be terrified as you work all this out, trapped in the circle of this man’s arms, but you feel strangely numb about it all.
“My clever girl.” He sounds almost sad about it.
“Not clever enough,” you sigh.
You are not sure who is more surprised, you or him, when you burst to your feet. You actually manage to slip out of his grasp, though you only make it three steps before he captures your wrist again with a grip like an iron manacle. He gives you a dark look, annoyed that you would even try to play this game with him.
You remember what you learned in martial arts class a lifetime ago, pointing your thumb down towards the weak point of his grip and trying to jerk free. It’s worked before, with grabby men.
Not with John Wick, though.
“Stop.” Again, there’s that steely tone. The alpha voice one uses to reprimand a naughty dog. It only makes you angrier, and you struggle.
He pulls you hard against him, and you bite his hand. He doesn’t let you go, just adjusts his grip. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he snarls low in your ear. “But you are so fucking stubborn.”
“Thank you.” You try to headbutt him behind you, but he ducks into the bend of your shoulder. You feel his chest trembling against your back, and only belatedly do you realize he is laughing at you.
“Enjoying this?”
“A little.”
“There’s no fucking way you can get me out of here without someone seeing. Let me go.”
He just sighs into your hair, like you’ve said something extremely naïve.
The arrival of newcomers into the park catches both of your attention. You lift your head, ready to ask for help, when you recognize the besuited tough guys from before.
Well, fuck.
“You've got some balls, showing your face around here, John Wick. Gianna d’Antonio’s son sends his greetings.”
“This isn’t a good time,” he snarls in return.
“Sorry, are you too busy fighting with your little girlfriend?”
He actually releases you then, pushing you to stand behind him. They are blocking the exit, so for now, you comply.
“You know how this will go,” John says, assuming a ready stance, his feet spread. He almost sounds regretful about it. “Do yourselves a favor, and leave.”
“Can’t do it, John,” says the one in the lead.
“For fuck’s sake,” curses John under his breath. The lead Italian makes a move, and John bursts into action. He is like a tornado of carnage upon them, throwing punches and breaking arms, cutting tendons and stabbing throats.
You are absolutely frozen as you watch all this unfold before you.
That is, until one of the thugs throws a knife at John, and you watch it bury in his chest. This is the thing that breaks your spell, and you run towards the fray with a scream, though who the fuck knows what you intend to do.
However, like he wasn’t just stabbed in the heart, John takes another attacker’s gun, pistol whipping him with it before shooting the knife thrower, then the last one standing. It cannot have been more than minute, before all of them are dead at his feet. He leans on his bent knees for a moment, catching his breath.
“John?” You hardly recognize your own voice as you rush to him, certain he’s taken a lethal blow and somehow fought through it with the surge of adrenaline. However, when you peel back his suit jacket you find no blood. He lets you look him over with frantic hands, maybe enjoying the fact that you don’t wish him dead, before pulling the still protruding knife from the breast of his jacket.
When he produces the little leather journal you’d gifted him from his inside pocket, now gravely marred with a puncture through the cover, you understand.
“Holy fuck.”
“You saved my life,” he says with an odd little smile down at you, as though all this is normal and what you just saw is totally ok.
Utterly horrified, you run.
“Y/n, wait!”
You throw yourself into the dark winding streets, taking any turn you can, trying to stay out of sight. Your feet fly beneath you; even in your shitty strappy sandals, it’s the fastest you’ve ever run.
It’s not fast enough.
When strong arms close around you, lifting you from the ground, you try to scream. A big hand clamps over your mouth, and you find yourself pressed hard into a stone wall. “Please, calm down,” he pants in your ear, out of breath from killing four people then running you down.
Your answer of, “Are you fucking kidding me?” is nothing but muffled syllables.  
“Goddammit,” he sighs behind you, rifling in his pocket for something as he pins you with his body. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”
Your pitiful plea of “Let me go,” is cut off by an evil-smelling cloth shoved into your nose.
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lillithhearts · 2 months
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Can I please request some Vox x insomniac reader
Idk the idea of him using his hypnosis to help them sleep just seems really cute
Thanks in advance <3
Vox x Insomniac!Reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
ׂׂૢ pairing : Vox x Reader
ׂׂૢ cw : Not Proofread, sfw Hypnosis
ׂׂૢ reader is gender neutral
𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .
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With the arrival of the late hours of the day came Vox finally putting work down and returning back to the upper parts of the Vee Tower, Vox absentmindedly scrolled on his phone while his eyes grew more heavy with every blink; Vox had the door opened to the large room and sees the TV on in a otherwise very dark room, upon further inspection he saw you, his partner sitting on the couch seemingly acting like it was noon while sitting on your phone apparently ignoring the running TV infront of you. You hadn't even noticed Vox come in being so engrossed in whatever may be on that phone of yours.
"doll? Why are you still awake?'
You practically jumped to the ceiling at the to you, booming sound of his voice while whipping your head up, quickly regaining yourself before getting up from the spot on your couch; walking over to the overlord who was still looking at you for an answer, confused on how you acted so casual and upbeat this late at night. You finally arrived in front of him and blessed him with a little peck, Vox swiftly grabbing your hips and pulling you towards him; God how he missed you.
"I'm just not tired is all"
"bullshit"
"woah, language.."
You laughed at the shenanigans you were making while Vox glared down at you, You were supposed to be asleep; do you do this often? How often, god what if you do this every night?? That's not good for you at all, all these thoughts ran through his head while he held you; watching you just enjoy his presence and company.
"seriously. you should be asleep"
"can't, tried, didn't help at all"
Vox almost growled at you, he was too tired to deal with this; and he wanted to go to sleep with you, not have you sit on your phone the entire night so he sighed and walked to his closet, dragging you along by your hand; you cooed at his actions and his grumpiness while throwing yourself onto the bed, watching Vox change into more sleep appropriate attire; he soon turned around and situated himself next to you on the large bed.
"can I try something? It'll help you sleep"
"Velvette already offered to knock me over the head with a pan"
"no! I mean- wait what?"
"nothing! What were you thinking?"
"..ok, I was thinking my hypnosis"
"hm, Okay"
You shimmied your way more onto the bed and got into the covers, looking at him with expectancy while he gawked at your willingness to do this, he smacked his chest and cleared his throat before joining you, holding your cheek and turning your head towards him, he hated using his powers on you despite never having had to before and even if it's meant to help you, it just felt wrong; his eye went wide and his hypnosis and you quickly looked more dazed as the pattern of his eye copied itself into yours, he started whispering sweet things and telling you to close your eyes, untense your shoulders and relax. Before either of you knew it you were asleep within a minute, he enjoyed seeing your face turn into one of calm while he made himself comfortable under the sheets as well; you'd talk about this tomorrow and he'd be willing to do it every night if that's what you wanted, he'd do anything for you; for now he was just going to pull you into his chest and listen to your soft exhales while he too, falls asleep
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Authors note : I was immediately drawn to this request because I have a sleeping disorder and I feel the reader on an extremely personal level😭
Taglist : @k1y0yo @ihavetoomanyfictionalcrushes @d0nutsaur @anni1600
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