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#but the only places i go to are school and home and its BORING
undercoverpena · 2 days
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1. tie the knot
javier peña x f!reader* | chapter one of let us pretend
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summary: peña has been back in Texas for all of five minutes, thinking he wants a simple life. but, when steve offers him the chance to gather information on a potential new player, he jumps at the chance. the only problem is, to do so, he'll need to go undercover with a female agent—and pretend to be her husband.
wordcount: 4.6k chapter themes: fake dating/relationship/marriage, forced proximity / sharing one bed, colleagues to lovers, no use of Y/N, *female agent has a nickname (sunny) for use undercover. an: this week i am full of surprises. welcome to the world of let us pretend. this chapter might not feel different from htcu, but it is.
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All he has to do is pretend. Put on an act.
It’s simple on paper. Easy. A thing he’s already a master in, something he has never found particularly difficult or hard: pretending.
Javi, after all, had had always been pretty good at concealing, at masking—
“Y’need to pretend to be married.”
Faking being a husband was a new one.
Having lived with far too many emotions for so long, it’s not hard for him to fake nonchalance.
Colombia had been his school. The place where he collected his degree—days of pretending he was okay. Hiding the fact he couldn’t sleep the horrors away, that he wasn’t falling apart at the seams. That stress wasn’t making him chain smoke and the pressure wasn’t making him sink his cock into women he couldn’t save.
He picked up his doctorate when he returned home. When ranch life had felt so fucking dull it made him want to pick the smoking habit back up, just for something to do. When he saw boats that made his insides twist, but found he had to wear a smile. Hiding, as expertly as he could, so he didn’t bristle each time someone called him a hero—when all he wanted was a drink, a fuck or a newspaper.
Mostly, Javi had become a master in squirrelling away the fact he saw every minute of the hours at night, feeling nothing short of relief when his alarm chimed so he could get out of his homemade prison.
Bluffing had always been a skill of his. But, this, this was new to him. His bluffing had never required him to wear something shiny on his left hand and—
“And, Jav. Try not to fuck her.”
He’s not surprised that Steve heads up a department in Miami—or that he’s happy and content.
From the moment the two of them reunited, he took in the glow on his old partner’s skin (the one he strongly suspects isn’t just from the sun) and listened as he heard short (in Murphy’s opinion) stories about his daughter growing older.
Javi couldn’t relate—not that he’ll admit it. Just another thing he disguises. Smothers his face in what he assumes is what happiness looks like, wears it like an accessory, something akin to wearing a jacket, rather than actually feeling it.
Picking up a ring, rotating it between his thumb and finger, he snorts. “Wouldn’t be very husband-like of me, if I didn’t, would it?”
He’s nudged. An intentional elbow to the side sparks a grin as he places the ring back into its velvety spot.
Because none of them look right. None seem right—even for a fake thing.
“Fake husband. And don’t fuck this up.”
“I’m hearing a lot of don’ts and not a lot of do’s, Murphy. What the fuck is it you want me to do?”
He’s already been told, informed. Briefed.
Tricked in fact. Requested down here for an opinion, but when his worn-in soles landed in the office of his former colleague, it unravelled into something so much more.
Handed a file—one he knows everyone expects he won’t read—and given a rundown of what the operation is supposed to look like. But Javi knows better. Had known it too. Even suspects, Murphy does too.
One thing Colombia has taught him is that plans don’t mean shit, not when you’re up against an ever-evolving problem.
You don't just want me here for a consult, do you, Murph? Was hopin’ you were bored in Texas.
He suspects that’s why his Pop had given him an arched brow, an expression that was accompanied by pinched lips when he’d first mentioned it. Even his assurance that it’ll be a few days—just helping Steve out was met with a look Javi hadn’t banked on. Realising as he stood admiring wedding rings that his Pop had figured it out long before him.
At least now he understands why he got the Chucho-treatment—not quite quiet, but not quite the same treatment from him that he did the day before.
Instead, that kind of treatment that pierced itself into him, attempted to bury itself inside of him and made guilt flood through him like a poison.
Even if once before he would struggle with it, found himself desperate to apologise—make it up to his Pops—he didn’t this time. Because Javi already struggled. Already grown tired of itching for something.
So, he said nothing. Because he knows Murphy wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t need him.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Murphy closes his eyes. The same noticeable twitch in his fingers and chewing inside his cheek that Javier can relate to: the sign of a recent quitter, and one attempting to use gum as a replacement.
Needing too.
“Where is she, anyway?” he asks, shifting the conversation, suppressing a yawn.
Before he’d even got on the plane out here, he’d been tired. Already beginning to fray at the edges, sleep had already become an even more distant friend.
All of it had been made worse by the worried look on Pop’s face when he dropped him at departures. It thickened, slathered itself on his shoulders even more so when he calls him from Murphy’s office to tell him it’ll be three months.
“You managed longer than I thought, Javi.” “Pop…”
Even though he had known it wouldn't matter, he had still tried to explain it all over again. From the top. All softly, with patience—the phone receiver leaving an indent on his cheek as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Reminding his Pop that this time he was doing his friend a favour, that it was a one-time thing—a few months, at most.
It didn’t shift the tone—didn’t stop Javi from imagining the disappointed lines bleeding into worried ones, mixing with the ones caused by age. It didn't lessen the tightness over the phone, simmering in the miles of air, because they were both at a standstill in the centre of a formerly (albeit temporary) happy situation.
Sighing, Murphy drops his hand, pulling him back from his thoughts. “She’ll be here, alright.”
Javi snorts, swallowing.
Glancing back over another table, seeing other things, other accessories. Things that’ll help him blend, help the two of you blend. You and him, him and you—a person he knows the name of and nothing else.
Steve had shared that you were good, brilliant, the only one he’d trust. That you knew the work so far better than anyone.
He’d been about to begin unpicking those earlier statements when the door opened, blouse and black tailored trousers walking towards him.
It isn’t anything cliché.
Time doesn’t stop, the room doesn't silence, but something happens. Something shifts, changes—alters. Because instantly, Javi realises you’re pretty. A thought which confuses him, especially when it dawns on him that usually, it’s a woman's figure he notices and admires first, but he finds that it's your eyes that he lingers on.
And fuck do they cut into him.
Practically reach inside of him, before they go through him, digging into flesh and fucking bone.
Then, all at once, ceasefire. A chance to strengthen his façade as you turn to greet Murphy, a handshake, a sea of pleasantries. Enough chance to shove it down, whatever attempted to rise in him.
But, he swears he can still see them behind his lids. Something which makes his jaw tighten, teeth grind—
“You must be my husband,” you say, smirk sliding up into your cheek.
Your body suddenly turns to him, hand sticking out towards him, adding your name to the statement as though stamping it into the air and his body goes clammy, grows warm and makes him suddenly desperate for water, coffee or even whiskey.
Slipping his hand into yours, he’s not surprised to find that it’s soft, the right kind of warm. He’d suspected about as much from just appearances alone.
“Agent Murphy has told me a lot about you, Mr Peña.”
Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he eyes you. “Think my wife should call me, Javi.”
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Javi learns, rather quickly, that you have a nice voice.
It doesn’t grate, doesn’t annoy him—it’s informative, but there’s something else there, a playful edge, a little thing within you that hasn’t been crushed.
He remembers when he’d been as sprightly.
Rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm as he does, fingers desperate to clutch a pen, his jaw tightening as he thinks about how he could roll it in his fingers, hold it like he used to hold a smoke.
Fuck, he wishes he could chew his gum.
A thing which is slowly making him more tense.
Not that you seem to notice, too focused on getting him up to speed on the actual investigation. He’d read much of your notes before today, it was the next part he was more on edge by.
Because, whatever his earlier opinion of you was, he was getting the distinct impression you’d rather set your skin on fire than be fake married. A thing you stop trying to hide, your face displaying your disgust at it each time it is casually mentioned.
It was mandatory—Murphy’s words—for the two of you to get to know one another. A crash course, a 101 in the other. It’s told to you, that the two of you are going to be stationed in your new home for the next few weeks, starting from today. But, because they’re merciful—
“Wanted to make sure you had time to get to know one another. So, take the day—work can begin another day.”
“How nice of you, Murph,” he responds, words dipped in sarcasm. Briefly catching sight of you smirking as you study something on the table.
Javi had already imagined that—since it was recon, and more surveillance than anything else—for the most part, everything could remain the same. He learnt he was right moments later when it was confirmed his name would remain very much his own, and you were handed his surname like a gift you’d rather burn than accept.
It was you who had to surrender more.
“Y’need a new first name.”
If you were surprised, you didn’t show it. A sea of reasons given, the main one being if anyone asked around with a photo and your name, it would be easier to put two and two together. You lived here, for one.
You keep your eyes down, glancing over the table of possessions you’re allowed to borrow, to play dress up with. Fingers brushing over a watch (silver, a white face)—something haunting in your eye you’re quick to blink away when you meet Murphy’s stare.
Folding his arms, Steve sighs. “Jus’ something you’ll answer to. That can be used in public.”
Javi watches you smirk, something secretive, a hidden joke simmering between the two of you—leaving him very much out in the cold of it.
After a beat, you lick your lips.
“Sunny,” you reply, lifting your eyes, digging each syllable of the name you’re going to use into him.
“Let me guess you’re someone’s ray of sunshine?”
He doesn’t mean for it to fall out laced in bitterness, but it does all the same. His mouth tilted into a smirk, your eyes hardening as you placed down a pair of earrings you’d picked up.
“Think it’s more because of my sunny disposition.” He snorts, watching you move around the table. “It’s a family nickname—I’ve… I’ve always been called it, so, I’ll answer to it.”
Swallowing, Javi lets his eyes wander to the wall of the room.
“Alright, you two. You need to sell it, y’hear me?”
“Then we need money.” It’s short, stern, the way you deliver it, head tilted and face unreadable. “We’ll be sniffed out immediately without it. These people deal in money, not handsome faces.”
"So, you think I'm handsome?"
The roll of your eyes doesn't dispute it, not as you direct your attention back to Murphy.
Who, until now, Javi hadn't realised (with his hands on his hips) how big boss Murphy looked as he whispered fine, or how much it rather annoyed him. How it would be quite easy to give him a shove. More so when he’s handed a new phone, a set of documents, credit cards and given more instructions he wishes he could shove down his throat.
He almost gets close enough to do both when briefing ends and he’s handed the keys to the hotel suite they’d be living in—their story simple, easy:
“We have a fake house for you both being made ready as a cover story, but for now you’re both in the hotel. Prime location. Beach views, and very much in reach to the top places the targets visit.”
And, Murphy hadn’t been lying.
It did have good views, the suite was even nice—really nice.
Almost too nice for a little surveillance, a little fake marriage and a drug bust. But, he didn’t complain, barely said a thing in the ride over, or when you wheeled your own case. He even remained silent when you refused to look at him in the elevator or on the walk to the room, and even when the two of you entered.
In fact, the first words he said were: “You gotta try and look at me like you don’t wanna peel my skin off. You know, if you want this to work.”
He expects it; braces for it, the tongue lashing, an icy stare. Picturing you as the kind of woman who is already to sharpen your tools and pierce him with them when he blinks. But, you don’t.
If anything, Javi watches in slow motion as your shoulders sink, your cogs turning before your expression softens.
“You’re right—I’m… sorry.”
Biting the inside of his cheek, he nods. “There’s one bed.”
“Well. We can sleep in the same bed, Peña. We’re adults. However, for your sake, I’m going to put a pillow between us.” Your eyes sweep over him, cold, drowning him in a chill. “Two actually.”
“You a cuddler, or something?”
Smiling, you sigh. “No. The pillow is so that if you roll over all sleepy and desperate for some affection, I won’t have to cut you. Because if you touch me, that is what will happen.”
“How are we meant to sell we’re in love if I can’t touch you?”
“Oh, out there, you can touch me. In here, no.”
His snort rumbles from his chest. Tugged up, wrenched from some cobweb-filled depth, as you smile. Nothing big, nothing life-changing, but a start—the beginning of a level-playing field.
“What kind of touching, cariño?”
Jaw tightening, you smirk—but it’s cold.
He suspects you’re used to charm. Easily able to disable it, switch it off, unfazed by his gaze or the edge of his words. If anything, you seem really fucking bored of it—something he’s not sure if he admires or despises.
“Nothing like you used to pay for, Peña.”
Before he’s even recovered, he learns that you take things seriously.
Your bag opens, pulling out a notebook—upside down cursive etched over a page, your eyes scanning over it, before you ask if he’s ready. He’s barely able to ask for what, when you begin firing things at him.
Favourite food. Comfort film. Where did we meet? What song do you sing in the car when I’m not around? Are you allergic to anything?
The list goes on, and on. The more things continue to run out of your mouth, the more he begins to admire you—to settle into some comfort that you want to do this properly. That you’re going to take it seriously too, something he wants.
Needing it to matter.
Needing to have something work out easily, not have it all end for nothing.
The only time you pause is for a dinner—room service, his treat and his choice. A way of providing proof that he’d been listening, paying attention—somehow wanting to prove something to you, even if he’d known you for only half a day.
“So, how did Murphy get you on this?”
He studies the way you cross your leg over the other, the base of your heel tapping against the carpet—all very much guarded, on edge.
“You can tell it’s my first, can’t you?”
Javi smiles, making it softer purposefully. “A little.”
“He said you were good,” you sigh, placing your napkin down. “I assume I was chosen because it was easy. Y’know, than someone with… higher priorities. Plus, I already know the case. Guess it just made sense to send me.”
Nodding, he watches as you avoid his sight, focusing instead on the swirls in the carpet. Something ticking in your pretty little head, it forcing your nostrils to flare, for your jaw to tighten—and he’s watching it happen, practically feeling the air around you begin to vibrate from it all.
“M’not gonna let anything happen to you, Sunny. You know that right?”
That does it. Further digs in the hatred you’re feeling tenfold because the use of your new name makes you flinch. And he knows, like he had suspected earlier that it means more than just a name. Especially from the look on your face.
At first, your expression is soft, almost mask-less—no walls, no defence. Then, like magic, it shifts. It drapes down, rebuilds, and suddenly there within seconds, the same expression he’s been working with since introduction.
“I have heard how you take care of the women who work with you.”
Picking up your drink, and stirring the straw, you let your eyes meet his. The small wooden table suddenly even smaller—the large suite, suddenly constricting in a way he hadn’t expected so far.
“S’not what I meant.”
“I know.” It’s curt, your reply. Clearing your throat, you snort, “You are handsome. I can see why you did so well. And, I might not need to say this, but I need you to know I like my job, and I don’t require that kind of care.”
Rubbing his jaw, he sighs. “That so?”
“I have something that can help with that. It doesn’t talk. It doesn’t need to remind it that it’s ‘so big’, and it doesn’t need me to call it baby. It just hums—politely—and makes my thighs shake. I just need you to be with me in this.”
He snorts, draining the rest of his glass. The ice clangs just before he places it back down on the table. “You bring it with you, your something?”
Licking your lips, your mouth slides into your cheek. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
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Steve had told you his credentials—how he worked, how smart he was. How easily he was able to decipher a read on someone.
He did also mention much of Peña’s backstory—including his rich history with the opposite sex. A thing you hadn’t wanted to let escape out coated in catty and wrapped in bitchy. And yet, it had all the same.
You did want to get on with him, you admired him after all. Hearing the truths from Steve made the things that swirled like gossip even more impressive.
But, in all of the briefings you’ve had before agreeing to this, your boss had failed to mention that it wasn’t just the man’s tongue that got women to confess all their secrets, but his ridiculously handsome face too.
The one that keeps turning towards you—eyes concentrated in on you as though you’re the most interesting thing he’s ever had the chance to listen to.
But, it wasn’t just that. It’s that he’s quick-witted, observant, and it most definitely doesn’t help that he’s all broad shoulders and brown eyed. That, in part, you thought you could handle.
Then, he’d flirted.
On any other day, in any other place, you’re sure you’d have melted. Likely leant forward, elbow on your knee, tracing your bottom lip with your finger just to make his eyes drop to your mouth.
But, this isn’t any other day—it’s work, a job, one that requires him (in part) to be a flirt.
Clearing your throat, you smear on a smile. “You not tried to date since you’ve been home?”
His face hardens, just slightly.
It pinching, eyes more so than anywhere else—his smile falling, descending to a thin line as he traces his teeth with his tongue. Then, his eyes shift into an entirely different brown, an explosion of shades swirling—flecks of gold and sadness-infused umber.
“No.”
Nodding, you pick at some salad on the side of your plate. “Probably a good job—don’t need any angry people coming for me when I’m curled up on your arm.”
He snorts, but it doesn’t flutter over his face. His hand remains balled up, resting on the arm of the chair—something more there, prodding, needling him. He may be so easily able to read you, but you’re sure he’s about as clear as a warm day himself.
Landing his gaze back on you, you feel it linger, hover—before it begins to slip down from your eyes, landing somewhere at your neck, before the buttons off your shirt. Something warming inside of you, flooding out, spreading across your skin as you try your damnest to level your breathing.
“Got any more questions?”
“Plenty,” you reply, almost catching the y on your teeth before placing a light smirk out over your lips, letting it move across your face.
Gesturing, Peña licks his lips and so you begin with more. Not needing the book now, just working your way through the things which populate, which appear like bubbles he bursts with his answers.
He’s open about some things more than others. The two of you covering family quickly, childhoods even quicker. You both discreetly avoid too many details of Colombia, about the things you’d already heard in chunks from your superior.
Your 101 beginner class in your new husband proving to be easier to understand than your field handbook—although, you supposed the intermediate and expert levels to him would be far harder to crack.
He’s unmarried, not dating—there’s his dad, a sea of distant family and a town full of people whom his father would class as family. You suspect some guilt there, it layered between the conversation on his dad, and the one which followed when you’d asked if the ranch would be okay without him.
“—My Pops has had help for a long time. One of them has been promoted. He… He works there full time now.”
Even if he had tried to say it simply, it was laced in bitterness—not from jealousy, you suspect from the sadness that had poisoned over time. A well stuffed with things which had rotted and gone mouldy over time.
Upon sight of him this morning, you had known you’d need to be clever, smart—find ways to compartmentalise it all. Because, when he traces his nose with his finger, when his eyes widen a little more than normal—coffee-brown all but drowning you—you had known it would be hard otherwise.
Something there, niggling, piercing through.
“Any lovers I need to be aware of?”
Smiling, you slide your feet from your heels, pulling your legs up more, swallowing. “No, you’re good.”
“Any potential risks I need to be aware of—anyone who’ll call into question your new name?”
Your stomach knots, uncomfortably so. A thing balling inside of you, that same fear you’d been plucking at for days—ever since Steve had suggested your name, thrown it out on the conference table with a bunch of greedy eyes seated around it.
“No, I… you have nothing to worry about.”
He looks at you, lets it hover, hold. Something there, trying to disguise itself in the way he narrows his eyes a fraction, in the way his lips pinch together—the way his brain seems to whir like a fan that can be heard even across the table.
When you yawn, he makes a move to tidy up the plates for the tray—batting your hand away. “I’ve got it, cariño.”
“Cariño?”
Your cheeks are warm, more so under his stare. Easily able to smother it the first time, but found it difficult the second. It’s all wide, blooming—it tracing your eyes before it sweeps back to the tray.
“Gotta call my wife something original, special.”
“I’m hardly special, Peña.”
“If I’ve married you, you’re special.”
Clamping your mouth shut, you say nothing.
Something churning, a horribleness that you know stems from the fact this isn’t real. None of it. The niceness, the ring on your finger—the one your finger slides up your palm to brush over, to trace.
The one which didn’t have a home there this morning, but now sits like it’s always supposed to. Your stare on his back as he goes to the door, pushing the metal tray, the jingling of plates and glass sounding out as your heartbeat pounds in your ears, your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
It continues to hammer when your back flattened against the bathroom door—safe amongst marble, mirrors and an array of complimentary products which covered most of the sink.
Only as you begin to undress and change for bed, does it lessen, does your composure return back to you. The mask which you so delicately applied, the one which had taken more words of encouragement in your bathroom mirror this morning than you’d thought.
Because, it isn’t that you thought you couldn’t do this—but rather why would you?
This isn’t your expertise. Not your usual field of knowledge. The last time you’d even been on a date had been at least over a year ago, and the last time you’d lived with a man had been so long ago you were worried you’d wake tomorrow and learn you have habits you weren’t aware of.
Did you kick in your sleep?
Did you grind your teeth?
“Cariño?” Peña calls out, knuckles tapping on the door. “You good in there?”
No, you want to reply. Hands gripping the sink basin, staring at your makeup-less face and the nightie he was about to see you in.
“Yeah,” you call out, washing your hands, and flushing the toilet before unlocking the door, and emerging.
He’s polite enough to not drink you in, even if you're sure he’s craning his neck not to do so.
“Look. Before you crack your neck from not doing so.”
Smirking, he traces his fingers across his chin, before slowly dropping his eyes.
And you feel them.
Warm. Hot. Sliding over your neck, collarbone, down the silk which covers your chest, abdomen and most of your thighs, before he’s running his vision back up.
“Better?”
“Nice legs.”
Narrowing your eyes, you straighten your spine. “Try not to dream about them, and Peña?”
He hums.
“Try to remember you’re not actually married, don’t want you falling for the fantasy we’re putting on. Hate to break your heart.”
Leaning against the doorframe, staring at you, you somehow manage to level your breath. “If it’s you breaking my heart, Sunny. I might just let you.”
Your mouth almost falls open. Almost.
Something you think he's aware of from the way he smiles, from the way he drinks you in before he whispers about getting passed.
Then, you're alone.
Filling your lungs with a breath, staring around the room not sure how you're going to make it a week not cracking, never mind more.
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CHAPTER TWO ->
AN: tag list won't be around from chapter two, thank you for letting me tell the story how i always envisioned. your kindness is appreciated.
taglist: @thetriumphantpanda @texassmiller @wordywarriorwrites @iknowisoundcrazy @thundermartini
@secretelephanttattoo @belliezz @picketniffler @thelightsandtheroses @sawymredfox
@toomanytookas @auteurdelabre @grumpygrumperton @noisynightmarepoetry @missladym1981
@maried01 @livswayout @casa-boiardi @msjarvis @perotovar @inept-the-magnificent
@copperhalfcent @morallyinept @inside-the-mind-of-a-wallflower @nabiiturner
@venturawriter @blablablasssss @half-moon16 @nerdieforpedro
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totheseok · 2 days
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home is where the heart is
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Jung Sungchan x reader
trope?: friends to strangers, strangers to lovers, childhood friends, college au?
requested: yes?? but I'm turning it into a series??
req by: @melokoyy
warnings: swearing?
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stage one: damn those theatre kids
words: 1.3k
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Jung Sungchan and L/N Y/N grew up together but this didn't mean they were best friends. Nor did it mean they hated each other. Simply put the two of them were friends.
Sungchan and Y/N's parents were good friends but the two never found themselves hanging out with each other besides the times their families were together. They went to the same school but hung out with different people, they were in the same class but sat at different ends. Outside their homes, they were mere acquaintances.
When they were six Sungchan's family moved into the house across the street from Y/N's. It was then that they started hanging out more. Walking to and from school together, doing homework together, and sometimes going over to each other's house to play games when bored. The pair's newly formed friendship, however, was sadly cut short when Y/N's mother got a job offer abroad and the family decided to move. When you're six years old and are told that you're moving to a new country it's exciting, but then you realize you have to leave your friends behind and suddenly your whole world gets crushed. And that's exactly what happened to Y/N. The idea of exploring new places was amazing but what fun would it be if she didn't have Sungchan to do it with her.
Yet the move was inevitable, they were six what could they possibly do to stop it.
As the day of the flight approached the kids spent more and more time with each other and the night before Y/N's flight Sungchan handed her his favorite puppy plushie Haru and told her to remember him with it. In return, Y/N handed the young boy her beloved Eeyore (Winnie the Pooh) stuffed toy.
And with that, they bade farewell to each other and Sungchan walked home crying as Y/N stood outside her door hugging Haru tightly to her chest.
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Considering Y/N was only seven when she moved to Canada with her parents, the adjustment wasn't too difficult. She knew English because she was sent to an international school in Korea, and being only seven fitting in with other kids wasn't too hard.
She soon became friends with a girl named Somi and a guy named keeho and they became pretty much inseparable due to their korean backgrounds (a/n: reader doesn't have to be korean she was just raised there).
Surprisingly, the friendship lasted, even through middle school and high school and soon enough, senior year of high school rolled around.
"Girl, did you apply?"
Keeho has a habit of whispering to y/n during classes, especially if she's zoned out. She should be used to it by now but being broken out of your thoughts is always a bit surprising.
"Fuck! KEEHO! What the hell man?" Y/n replied not bothering to look at him.
"Did you apply to SNU, dumbass?" he quipped at her, pinching her arm to fully bring her back to reality.
"Oh. Oh, wait, oh shit I forgot." she started switching tabs on her laptop, making sure the teacher didn't notice and quickly opened Seoul National University's website. "When's the deadline to apply for the September semesters?"
"In two hours..." Keeho sighed."I swear to god y/n you're hopeless. HOW are you maintaining your GPA!?!?!"
Now y/n's GPA isn't a 4.0, but it's still good at a 3.79, keeping her at an A. Along with that, she actively takes part in extracurriculars and has won a few competitions for her society. So she was definitely HOPING to get accepted by SNU, preferably on scholarship, but hey, she'll take what she can get.
"When does this class end?" she asks him opening the application form and started filling it out, let's hope Mrs. Anderson doesn't notice she's not taking notes.
"Well considering its been about an hour and fifteen minutes, that means there's an hour and forty-five minutes left. Seriously WHY are our classes THIS long?!?!"
"Ugh, I get you," the girl mumbles, "So I either do this right now and risk getting caught by Mrs. Anderson OR I wait until class ends and try to write an application for my dream uni in fifteen minutes?"
"Basically."
"You know what? I'll take my chances, what's Mrs . Anderson going to do, give me detention for applying to uni in her class?" and she starts typing, looking up at the board every few minutes to make it seem like she's taking notes and not doing something her entire future relies on.
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"Wait so you JUST applied?" Somi stops in her tracks and turns to Y/n as they walk out of the campus towards the closest 7/11.
Keeho replies for her, "Yeah, that too during Mrs. Anderson's class."
"Damn I knew you were crazy but Mrs. Anderson's class is just wild."
"Hey, atleast my application went through before the deadline," Y/n finally speaks up "Now we just have to hope all three of us get accepted together."
"Damn right, I still applied to a couple other unis in Seoul, just in case you know?" Somi comments, opening the door to the convenience store.
"Same. I applied to Yonsei, Hanyang, and a couple of others." Keeho agrees, following her.
"Other than SNU I just applied to Yonsei but no where else in Korea, if I get into SNU great, Yonsei's my backup option, the other unis I applied to are in the Middle East and Europe." Y/N adds.
"Hmm, you're just going to leave us to rot in Seoul I can't beleive this, but if you do end up going to the Middle East fuck learning, find a rich prince and marry him."
"KEEHO!" both the girls exclaim.
"ANYWAYS, let's hope all three of end up in SNU, I mean how could SNU possibly turn down a trio as amazing as us." he continues.
"Yeah, let's do this together." Y/N adds while she waits for her hotdog.
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Summer after high school came sooner than expected, and suddenly life slowed down, highschool was over and the little group of friends were on there way to be adults.
The only thing they were worried about now?
University acceptance emails.
The three hung out almost every day and every two hours they'd refresh their emails hoping to see an email from SNU.
"What if they accidentally sent our letters to the wrong emails? Is that possible?"
"Keeho I highly doubt a university as established as Seoul National University would send acceptances to the wrong emails..." Somi responds.
"Yeah and even if they did I doubt it'd happen to all three of us, plus apparently acceptes don't come until like June or something idk." Y/N adds to Somi's point.
"Damn, I just want the stress to end man, I don't like not knowing." the boy mumbles.
"I get you," Somi agrees, "Plus its already the end of May so anytime now I guess."
"Oh my god Somi I think you just manifested something, I got an email !" Y/N frantically opens the mail app on her phone and sure enough there was an email from Seoul National University. "Quick both of you check yours."
As she waits, she looks around her bed to find a worn-out puppy plushie, Haru. Once she finds him, she holds onto him, hugging him with her left arm while her right holds her phone.
"I got one too!"
"Same! oh my god oh my god I'm going to shit my pants!"
"OK on three we open them together and remember no matter what happens, we support each other through it."
"Alright one, two, two and a half, two and and three-"
"Y/N FOR FUCKS SAKE, ONE"
And que silence.
The first one to break the silence was Somi, "I GOT IN!"
"I DID TOO!" Keeho jumps in his seat.
The two friends realise the third hasn't spoken yet, and so they turn to her, only to see her sitting with a grim face, tears gathering in her eyes. Grip on her plushie tighter than ever as she hugs it to her chest.
She looks up, looks at Keeho, then at Somi, one singular tear slipping out of her eye.
"Oh Y/N-"
"SNU is overrated any -"
Just as her friends are about to comfort her, a smile overtakes her face.
"I GOT IN TOO!!!"
Damn those theatre kids.
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synopsis: Sungchan and y/n are family friends but y/n moved abroad and they lost touch, now y/n is back in Korea for uni and it's just so happens sungchan is attending too and now he's helping her readjust and navigate through life in Korea. What could possibly go wrong?
a/n: So originally, this was supposed to be a oneshot, but I'm turning it into a series, first ACTUAL fic!!! I hope you all like it :)))
and special thank you to @ywnzn for helping me with the name for this series ❗️❗️❗️
taglist open: @seungzzzz @wccycc
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esouliie · 3 months
Text
DON’T YOU LOVE THE DEVIL?
– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem!reader
– synopsis | wanda was everything you wanted in a mom. she was kind and loving, even to those who weren’t her own children. she, however, loved you in a very different way…
– warnings | porn with plot, non con that turns kinda dub con, smut, mommy kink, spanking, thigh riding, overstimulation, aftercare, wanda is a perv lmao (18+)
[word count: 3.4k]
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Summer was always your favourite time. It meant avid beach trips, ice cream dates and - most importantly - bestie sleepovers. You enjoyed staying at Natasha's house, which was much larger than yours. Wanda, her mother, was always very kind to you, even more so than your own. Because of this, throughout high school, you found yourself always at the Maximoff’s. When you were going through a difficult time, you would always turn to her for support; she was a solid shoulder to cry on as her hushed whispers soothed you.
Much like your house, Natasha’s dad was never in the picture. And because Wanda never seemed to date, it was always just them two and sometimes you. Their house was your safe haven and Wanda was your beckoning angel. Now in your last year of college, you still find yourself coming to the older woman…
Countless nights, you wished she was your mom instead.
Reaching into your pocket, you fumble around for the front key, feeling its familiar shape between your fingertips.
This was your usual routine – Natasha would text when she was nearly home from work, and you’d arrive shortly after, letting yourself in with the spare key she had given you months ago.
The door swings open with a soft creak, revealing the warmth of the home beyond. The living room is empty, just the faint hum of the TV can be heard.
As you step into the kitchen, the warm aroma of burnt vanilla envelops you. Wanda stands against the island, dressed in a large, red sweater and black skirt, with one hand scrolling through her phone as the other holds a glass of red wine. She looked radiant as ever. A grown woman confident in her own skin and her ability.
“Hey, Wanda.”
She places her phone down and greets you warmly. “Hey there, sweetheart. How are you?”
“I’m good.” You take a seat next to her and she busies herself with pouring you a glass of red. You watch her, marvelling at how effortlessly she moves around the kitchen, her movements always graceful and fluid.
"So," Wanda begins, setting the glass in front of you, "another bestie sleepover?"
“Yep! Natasha’s going to be busy with Bucky next week so we’re spending as much time together.”
Wanda scoffs at the mention of her daughter’s partner, “Yeah, she said something about going to his parent’s lake house for the week.”
You hum, reaching for a sip of the wine, awkward in the revelation of Wanda’s distaste for her daughter’s boyfriend. I mean, it’s not like you like him either. You hate him actually. He was always so weird about your friendship with the redhead, always starting arguments around how much you guys hang out together and how he thinks you have a crush on her.
Plus, Natasha was way out of his league and he sometimes treated her like shit. It was only last week when Natasha was complaining about how they had an argument during their date and Bucky left her to find her own way home…
“I really don’t know what she sees in him.”
You sigh, setting the glass back down. “Me neither. He’s an asshole.”
Lost in thought, you fail to notice Wanda’s approach until an arm laid upon your shoulder, and a hand twirled around your curls.
“You know, I always thought Natasha would end up with you.”
Shocked by her confession, you try to respond - to deny that nothing would ever happened - but your mouth is unable to move as her nails scratch against your neck.
Wanda settles down in the stool beside you, hand retreating to stroke down your arm.
"I just don't understand. He’s boring and doesn’t deserve Tasha, whereas, you’re… you’re so much better than him.” She admits softly, her gaze fixed on you.
"You’re so much more than him.”
You shrug, expelling a shaky breath as you watch her manicured nail draw patterns against your exposed skin.
Silence envelopes you both, Wanda deep in thought and you pretend to act calm about the fact that Wanda’s touch has trailed down to your hands, resting in your lap.
“You know if I were her…” Her breath flutters against your ear, “I wouldn’t even think about anyone else… when I have you.”
Your heart skips a beat at her admission.
"I..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as you struggle to articulate the jumble of thoughts and emotions swirling within you.
It felt so wrong, and yet you didn’t want her to stop.
To keep stroking your hand,
To keep whispering in your ear.
To keep close to you.
“I think… I want to kiss you.” Wanda murmurs, her thumb gently running over your lips.
But before you could say anything, she leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss.
“So pretty.” She whispers, lips closing in once again, but the sudden closing of a door upstairs startles you both as you pull away. Eyes wide in fear that Natasha could’ve seen you kissing her mom.
Wanda leaves her seat, an unreadable expression on her face, and disappears into the living room, Natasha’s thundering footsteps break you from looking at her as she comes downstairs. Her hair is wet, her bangs clinging to her forehead. She must’ve been in the shower.
“You made it!” Natasha exclaims before briefly hugging you and dragging you with her upstairs, “Come on. Let’s watch a movie.”
A few hours later, and a few movies down, you end up back in the kitchen, in search of a drink. You spot Wanda in the living room watching a show, her presence both comforting and unnerving. No longer elegantly dressed, she lounges in a maroon satin night gown. The thin fabric barely covers her long legs as it glows complimentarily against her pale skin.
Summoning as much courage, you take a seat on the other end of the sofa. The drink long forgotten. She recognises your presence but you both don’t say anything, engrossed in some reality show on TV. This distraction works for a while but then, like a shadow in the morning sun, the memory of the kiss surfaces. Heat blossoms against your cheeks but you feel it weighing on your mind, a heavy burden demanding acknowledgement.
“Wanda,” your voice so quiet she almost didn’t hear it, ‘I think we should talk about earlier.”
With a delayed hum, she turns towards you, waiting patiently for you to continue. Your words stumble out clumsily, faltering as you try to convey the complexity of your emotions. You want to explain that the kiss was wrong, that she was your best friend’s mom and that nothing like that could happen again, but you don’t want to hurt her feelings in the process.
Her expression was unreadable, you could almost hear the pounding of your own heart, the uncertainty hanging thick in the air between you. And then, finally, she speaks.
“I’m sorry, darling. I thought- it was silly and inappropriate of me.” She reaches over to briefly squeeze your hand.
“Let’s forget it happened.”
You exhale with relief, “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”
Quick to change the conversation and clear the awkward tension, Wanda asks, “How come you’re down here anyways? Where’s Natasha?”
“Oh she fell asleep.” You giggle at the unattractive image of your best friend, snoring somewhat loudly and taking up your side of the bed.
“Besides, I’m not really tired, so I thought I’d come down for a drink.”
Wanda hums, a smile on her face at the sight of you giggling so cutely.
But you notice her hands run over bare arms, soothing the goosebumps and the slight shiver, “Are you cold?”
She looks at you for a moment, eyes taking in your concerned features before she nods.
“I’ll get you a blanket.” You move to stand but a grip on your wrist halts you.
“Don’t bother. Just sit here.”
She leans back against the pillows, legs parting slightly. Your brows furrow in confusion.
She tugs your wrist softly, “Don’t think, just come here.”
She pulls you to sit between her thighs, flush against her front as she winds her arms around you. It wasn’t uncommon be hugged by the older woman but it’s never been like this. But despite earlier, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. The room even felt cosier now all that tension was gone. So, you lean back into her embrace, feeling her steady heartbeat against your back and her warm thighs brush against yours.
“Hm, much better. You’ve always run hot.” Her face snuggles into your curls and you giggle.
Her large hands dip, holding softly onto your hips, pulling you even closer with a silent groan, before descending to your thighs. A shiver of anticipation runs down your spine, but you maintain composure, thinking nothing of the surely innocent touch as you focus on the TV screen in front of you.
Her touch is gentle, sending a warm current through your body with each stroke. You feel your legs widen, following in the direction of her strokes, not wanting the caress to stop. The show on the TV fades into the background as your attention becomes solely fixated on her.
She leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “Pretty girl... feels good, doesn’t it?”
You nod, allowing yourself to melt further into her embrace, your head resting against her shoulder instead of watching her hands.
Wanda tuts, “No, baby, head up.”
A single hand moves from your thigh to hold the back of your head, forcing you to look down at your entwined legs. Another hand wanders higher than expected, tracing small circles into your inner thigh, jarring you out of your trance as you go to wiggle free from her grip. “Wanda… that’s-”
Your speech is cut off as fingers slip under your shorts, and you gasp, squirming with renewed vigour. But her hold refuses even the feeblest motions as she wraps an arm around your waist.
“Wanda… please!”
“Don’t think, baby.” She warns again, fingers gliding further into your shorts. “Just let yourself feel good.”
You fight harder, hips snapping away from her touch as hands pry at her wrist. “Get off me!”
“No, you’re not getting up.” You squirm again, and without warning, she digs her nails harshly into your soft skin. “I said, you’re not getting up.”
You whimper in pain and stop your movement. Instantly, her nails pull back from your skin, leaving red angry crescent marks. Those fingertips gently caress the marks to soothe them before moving up under your shirt.
“Good girl.” Those words bring an odd warmth to your body and suddenly you think that letting Wanda have her way with you couldn’t be as bad as you initially thought…
But light fingers caressing up and down your stomach, inching closer to your breasts reminded you of the position you’re in.
This was your best friend’s mom.
Natasha didn’t deserve this.
“Wanda, we can’t… it’s not right. What about Nat-?”
“It’s fine, princess.” She interrupts, placing a few chaste kisses against your neck. “She won’t find out.”
Suddenly, those hands slide up over your bare breasts and gently squeeze. You take in a deep breath and exhale slowly with a soft whimper. Pleased with the response, she begins to knead them kindly alternating between light and firm pressure.
“You like that, baby?” Wanda coos then nibbles on the side of your ear, descending your neck carefully to not leave bites and marks in place.
Your back arches slightly, pressing your breasts deeper into her adept grasp, and your defiance fades ever so quickly with each breathy moan.
“Hm, so needy, so responsive…” thumbs swipes over your perked nipples, “and all I’m doing is playing with your tits, princess.”
Your increased whines answer in reply and Wanda doesn’t bother wasting time anymore. Lifting a hand from its spot under your top, she glides down under your shorts. Her lithe fingers ghost over the soaked underwear, travelling low enough to feel the wetness seep from your slit, and she moans lowly at the sensation. “You’re so wet… fuck, is this all for me?”
Battling between not wanting this and giving in to her, you also fight the urge to thrust your hips upwards, to search for some needed friction, to end the maddening ache between your thighs.
The older woman’s light touches feel like heaven and hell as nimble fingers slide up and down the fabric that clung to you, purposely missing where you needed her most.
“That’s it, baby. Relax… let go for me.”
A strange fuzziness washes over you completely as you relax - moral sobriety long forgotten - as your legs spread apart limply for Wanda to grope in every direction.
 “M’kay.” You reply, barely hearing yourself, lost in the moment.
Wanda sighs contently, forever pleased she’s put you in this headspace with such little fight.
Focusing back on your neck, she licks along the flushed skin, and as she bites against your pulse a little harder, the slight pain has you quivering.
You melt into the warm heat below you, head resting against a firm shoulder, as you let out a moan laced with pleasure and slight frustration. Hips bucking slightly back into Wanda’s hoping she’d take the hint and get on with it.
The quicker you gave her what she wanted, the quicker it would be done.
Finally, her index finger slides higher, the tip of her nail just brushing against your clit slightly. Your thighs shake at the motion, wanting to clamp shut around her but never doing so in fear she would stop. A cry falls from your mouth in surprise as her finger finally reaches, circling your swollen nerve endings in a slow yet firm motion.
Your words stumble out clumsily, unable to string a full sentence together as Wanda practically purrs against your ear.
“Oh, you’re doing so well, baby.” She coos, before pressing open-mouthed kisses against your jaw, “So well for me… come here.”
Tipping your neck up, she dips forward, pressing her hot lips against your own. A choked note of dismay comes from you as Wanda forces your mouth open and shoves her tongue inside. The older woman dominates the clashing of tongues, making sure that you know your place.
You fail to notice Wanda pull your shorts and panties down from your hips until her fingers press against you harder, and you can’t help but grind against it with such aching desperation. She marvels over how pathetic you look… one minute begging for her to stop and now humping against her like a bitch in heat, swallowing her tongue down your throat.
Such a depraved mental image and yet it only feeds into her desire for you.
To claim you as hers, no matter if you wanted it or not.
Because she didn’t care.
She could feel herself getting wetter, as she met your grinding with her own thrusts, your ass pressing flush against her soaked panties.
The kiss eventually comes to an end, a few hungry strands of saliva briefly clinging to your lips, linking you together. Wanda gazes lovingly at the sight of you, a growing smile on her lips, as you writhe in building pleasure.
“Can you look at me, princess?”
Wanda asks in a sultry tone and you struggle to open your eyes, squinting against the light as her blurry face comes into focus. Her pupils are blown out, partly consuming those emerald irises, her cheeks painted a flushed pink, and her lips part as she pants freely.
She looks so beautiful.
Her green eyes shine clouded over in a different colour than Natasha’s…
Natasha.
Dread seeps into your bones, your body ripped from its relaxed trance as you recall your best friend and how she’s sleeping upstairs as you’re fucked by her mom.
You don’t want to think about how upset she would be to find you like this.
“Baby…” She reels your mind back to focus on her, noticing you’re beginning to spiral. “You ready to come for me?”
Her fingers speed up perfectly but you shook your head in defiance, your mind no longer free to just enjoy Wanda’s touch.
“No,” she coos, “you don’t want to come for me, baby? Don’t want to come for Mommy?”
A whiny no leaves your lips, not giving in to the beautiful temptress behind you.
Annoyed, Wanda rolls her eyes, clearly upset that you wouldn’t just give in to her and that you’re not nestled in that special little headspace anymore.
Without warning, she twists your thigh over the other, ass on show as she lashes out with a sharp slap. You cry out at the unexpected blow, your hands grabbing tightly onto whatever part of the woman you can reach. You weren’t sure if you were trying to push her away or pull her close.
“I thought we were done with that, baby.” She unleashes a few more spanks, “Thought you were going to be my good girl, hm?”
You gasp for air at the same time Wanda gropes your marked flesh, pulling your cheeks apart as she rubs in soothing circles. The breath turns into a choked moan as Wanda spanks you one more time, before returning you to your original position, back to pressing firm circles against your clit.
Once again, you fight her touch. Hips wiggling in each direction until ankles wrap around your legs, locking you in place.
Tight circles turn to quick taps, the once pleasing hand now bringing pain upon your pussy in rapid succession, not allowing you to writhe in her generosity for too long before returning to cruelty.
A beautiful blend that muddled all of your defying thoughts until there was nothing left.
Your body betrayed your mind. Your legs fell completely limp, as you lay at the mercy of the older woman. Taking whatever she deemed necessary to give.
Finally, she had you.
“I don’t care if you don’t want to. You’re going to cum all over my fingers for me.” She concludes with a kiss on your cheek.
And not caring if you cry loud enough to wake up the rest of the house, her fingers speed up for the last time, sending you headfirst over the edge.
After what felt like hours, Wanda was done with you. You had moved into her bedroom, deciding the sofa was not adequate to continue. Now her head rests against your stomach after she had spread you open to lap up your next orgasm.
Your body spasms randomly, wave after wave of aftershock rolling over you. A warm hand cups your core firmly, and you buck away from the sensitivity, not wanting her touch anymore. But her fingers remain, gliding slowly up and down your slit, marvelling at your swollen skin, before pushing against your entrance.
You’re overwhelmed. What little fight you have left mentally can’t keep up with the fatigue of your exhausted body. If she wanted to, she could have her way with you. Again and again. Fresh tears fall from your eyes as you sob inconsolably into hands covering your face.
Wanda leaves you be, moving up your body to grab onto your wrists.
“Hey, baby… it’s okay, you’re okay…” she coos, fingertips wiping away your tears, “Mommy went too hard on you, didn’t she?”
You struggle to find the words, and Wanda shushes you, stopping you from thinking too much in such a delicate headspace.
You feel movement, feel Wanda get off you, and your eyes snap open in a slight panic but she sits beside you and swiftly draws you onto her lap.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Don’t cry.” She says gently, reeling you in with false empathy. She was glad she pushed you too hard you broke.
“Mommy couldn’t help herself.”
You scoot closer, close enough to bury your head into her neck as fingers trail up and down your back.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. Can you forgive me?”
Her soothing words are music to your ears as you whimper softly against the woman, not willing to talk or move away. You just want her to hold you.
“Say it, princess. Say you forgive me.”
She guides you out of her neck to look at her.
“I forgive you.” You choke out, upset you’re no longer buried in her chest, as your hands run back to cover your eyes. Too ashamed to even look at her.
“Sweet girl, come here.” Wanda doesn’t wait, moving your hands to wrap around her neck as she kisses you hungrily, swallowing any little disapprovals as you push languidly against her chest, trying to force her mouth off of you.
It’s fine, it’s fine,” she ushers against your swollen lips, “I just want to make you feel better.”
You whine in disapproval but your arms wrap tighter around her.
“You love me, don’t you?” She whispers against your cheek, but doesn’t let you reply, as you choke on her tongue, stroking deep against yours.
“Say you love me, baby.” She moves to kiss your forehead, before moving down against your collarbone.
Hands groping your ass as she rocks you steady against her thigh.
“I love you,” a few tears burn down your throat as you hiccup,” I love you, I love you.”
Wanda mumbles her gratitude into your skin, fresh marks blooming against your chest as she fucks you against her.
“Keep saying you love me, baby.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you…” flies from your mouth in quick succession, your mind once again empty as the tell tale signs of another orgasm come into view.
“I love you too, princess.” She returns to your lips, tongue prodding past them as she coaxes your tongue into her mouth.
“Come on. Be good for me.”
It slams into you, body tense as you fall over the edge, pressing your face deep into her neck. She shushes you, not letting go of your body until the convulsions stop, and even then, you’re curled into her chest. Unwilling to part from her.
She allows you to sob freely, your body shaking uncontrollably as hands stroke all over until you calm down. Almost asleep in her arms.
A hand runs through your damp hair, “That’s it, baby. We’re done.”
“No more.” You mumble out, eyes already shut as exhaustion washes over.
“No more, baby. Go to sleep.” Wanda shifts you down her body, your face now against her chest, as she covers you both with her duvet.
Unable to resist any longer, you drift off in Wanda’s warm embrace.
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2K notes · View notes
greg-montgomery · 1 year
Note
Friends to lovers with hotch. Bau!Reader has been pining forever but is deciding to move in after seeing Aaron and Beth be with each other. New guy also happens to be a single dad with a boy in jacks grade. Jack is not happy about another boy stealing his mom figure yk? Father son duo working together to get the girl.
Tbh idc what you write coz its always good. And im a sucker for jealous hotch ALWAYS
okay can i just say that when i saw this ask i got obsessed with the concept immediately!!! like that’s so cute???? also while writing this i was thinking “jack is such a little sweetie he wouldn’t have an attitude” but then i thought of this tiktok and remembered he can actually be salty af <33 LMFAOO
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
“Buddy, what’s wrong?”
Jack hadn’t spoken a word the entire ride from school. Aaron was used to his bubbly sweet voice filling the car, telling him all about his day; so the silence was deafening.
“Nothing,” he replied, dropping his small bag on the floor and running to his room.
The truth was, Jack had been pretty moody lately and it was all because of you. Well, it wasn’t your fault of course, but it was your absence that had Jack throwing tantrums in a way he never used to before.
As Aaron’s best friend, your presence in his house, in his home, was a constant. Movies, dinners, board game nights…Jack had grown used to you. And he absolutely adored you.
When Beth came into Aaron’s life, though, things started to change. You were pulling away from him, from them. At first, Aaron thought that maybe you were jealous; and if that was true, he would drop Beth in a heartbeat and run into your arms. After all, she was only a distraction to him in order to get over you.
All those dreams of him were shuttered one day, when he had called to ask you if you’d join him and Jack for a movie night, only to be told you had a date: a date with the dad of one of Jack’s classmates. You told him the two of you met when you went to pick up Jack from school one day, and Aaron cursed the moment he had asked for your help. If he knew the dads there would be all over you, he wouldn’t have let you set foot into that damned school in the first place.
“Jack?” Aaron said, knocking on his door.
“Go away!”
“Jack, please talk to me. I want to help.”
There was a long pause before Jack finally opened the door and let his dad in.
“What did you do to her?” he asked with tears in his eyes.
“Buddy, what are you talking about?”
“Y/N. Why isn’t she your friend anymore?” Jack looked incredibly sad and it broke Aaron’s heart.
“We’re still friends,” he answered, softly. “What makes you think we’re not?”
“She’s never here anymore.”
“I know,” Aaron said. “But that doesn’t mean she’s not our friend anymore. We’ve just both been busier than usual.” He wasn’t technically lying, but he still felt bad.
“Why couldn’t you get together like they do in the movies?” Jack raised his voice. “Now she’s with Charlie’s dad. And she packs Charlie lunch and makes him sandwiches that look like dinosaurs like she used to do with me! It’s not fair, she was ours first!”
Well, that explained why he was so mad after school today.
Aaron couldn’t find any words to say, and how could he when he was just as jealous as his son? Jack was right; you were theirs first. And they’d win you back.
--
“And dad told me we’ll go get ice cream later with Y/N!” Charlie exclaimed, but Jack did not share his enthusiasm.
“Okay,” Jack answered, rolling his eyes.
“And maybe we’ll go to the movies after. She said she loves watching cartoons! She doesn’t think they’re boring like all grown ups,” the kid continued, not realizing he was making Jack upset.
“I know, we watch cartoons all the time together,” he replied.
Right next to them, their fathers had a separate conversation, but very much similar to theirs.
“The kid loves her already,” Charlie’s dad, Nick, said, watching you from afar. They were all waiting for you to finish your little chat with that teacher friend of yours, so they’d finally leave the school building.
“And how can he not, I mean she’s so great,” he added.
“She is,” Aaron agreed, though gritted teeth.
“I’ll take them for ice cream now so they can bond a little more. This girl loves ice cream.”
“Yeah, I know.” Who did that guy think he was? Thinking that any detail about you would be news to Aaron. Of course he knew you loved ice cream. He knew you better than anyone. Anyone.
“Sorry!” you said, walking fast towards their little group. “I hadn’t seen my friend in a while.”
“That’s alright.”
“It’s okay.”
Aaron and Nick talked at the same time, which ended in them sending annoyed glances to each other.
“Well, we better get going then,” you said with a smile.
As all of you walked out of the building, Aaron heard you telling something to Nick and Charlie. “Can you wait for me in the car? I’ll be back in a minute!”
To Aaron’s surprise you approached his car with one eyebrow raised. Oh no, you were mad.
“Y/N,” he said, but you cut him off.
“Why are the two of you being mean to Nick and his son?”
“We’re not mean to them,” Aaron said, but Jack’s voice was louder. “Because we hate them!” he said.
“Jack.”
“What? It’s true. You said that Mr. Nick is ugly and a jerk!”
“Jack, language!” his dad scolded him.
You turned your gaze to Aaron. “Is this true?”
He sighed, in defeat. “Jack, can you please get in the car? I want to speak with Y/N.”
“Fine,” he said, and followed his dad’s request.
“So?” you said when you were finally alone.
“So…I may have said some things about Nick.”
“Why?” your soft voice asked.
“Because, I can’t stand the thought of him with you. God, Y/N, I can’t do this anymore. I want you. I want you to be mine. I wanna be the one who takes you for ice cream and the one who brags about you to the other dads.”
“Aaron…”
“I understand if you don’t feel the same way-”
“Of course, I feel the same way, you idiot,” you said. “But then Beth showed up and I thought it was one sided!”
“Beth’s in the past.”
“She is?”
“Yes. She didn’t mean anything to me. It’s always been you,” Aaron admitted.
“Wow…” you said, placing your palm on your forehead.
“Yeah…”
“Well, I have two people waiting for me in the car right now. And I don’t want to just  blow them off.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll talk to Nick tonight. I promise,” you said, touching his hand. “Okay?”
“Okay.” Aaron smiled.
“She touched your hand,” Jack said with a smirk when his dad got back in the car.
Aaron stared at him through the rearview mirror with furrowed eyebrows, but Jack could read him very easily. So he just giggled.
--
“Ew!” Jack yelled, his face forming a disgusted expression at the sight of you and Aaron kissing.
“Hey, you got your wish!” Aaron told him. “You should be grateful.”
“You know what I think?” you asked.
“Hm?”
“That our little Jack is jealous because he’s not getting any kisses.”
“No!” he giggled, as you and Aaron chased him, ready to cover his chubby cheeks with sweet kisses.
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dqrciedaily · 17 days
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baby arsenal, arsenal wfc x teen!reader
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a/n: y/n is so younger me coded minus the fact that she is german
also promise more fics coming soon x
-
y/n y/l/n, the sixteen year old rising star of not only the german national team but also arsenal women's football club, had seamlessly transitioned from the bustling streets of cologne to the vibrant city of london. her two older brothers, max and louis, had started her passion for football from a young age, sculpting her into the strong defender she was today. they always had her in the garden with them having a kick about before urging their father to let her go for trials at the local club, which deemed to be extremely successful.
arsenal had scouted y/n whilst she was playing for fc köln. three weeks later her and her parents were signing papers and organising living arrangements as well as the school situation. they settled on her living with lia as well as her attending the local school in the area.
as the first initial weeks passed, her once shy demeanor melted away, replaced by a vibrant personality that charmed everyone around her. she had also very quickly picked up the name ‘baby arsenal’ from fans and soon her teammates had started calling her that too. kyra and y/n had almostly instantly became friends, pulling y/n out of her nonexistent shell within two weeks, along with victoria, teyah and laura, y/n settled in quickly.
one friday evening, y/n found herself invited to a party by her school friends. eager to fit in with the english teenage life she hastily accepted. embracing the opportunity to get to know her new friends in a different environment, as well as allowing herself to fully relax since moving to the foreign country.
ignoring the cold english weather, y/n slipped on one of her favourite backless black dresses and a pair of her friend’s high heels, that her long legs definitely weren’t accustomed to. many pre drinks later they arrived at the party at nine pm, the minute the group of girls arrived at the party they were straight into the open arms of their other friends. music was blaring as y/n slowly let herself relax, she couldn’t even remember how many new people she had met.
however, the temptation of the party proved too intoxicating, the drinks flowed freely, and before she knew it, the world was slowly tilting on its axis, spinning out of control as she succumbed to the intoxicating haze. the party deemed to be a bit boring now that it had reached past eleven pm, so on her unsteady feet y/n managed to walk out the party and onto the side walk. with her vision blurred and her balance faltering, she fumbled for her phone and dialed kyra’s number, interrupting what was supposed to be a cozy game night for the rest of the team.
"ky! oh my goodness i can’t believe you picked up, i have so much to tell you!” y/n giggled into the phone, "there were like so many pretty girls here tonight and i’m bloody freezing over here. i also had so many drinks! oh and I can't get home. oh and have i ever old you how much i love you! ich liebe dich ky ky…"
throughout the phone call kyra switched it onto speakerphone meaning that everyone could hear the state y/n was in. without hesitation, steph, one of y/n’s self-appointed team mums sprang into action. definitely breaking some speed limits as she rushed to y/n’s location, she found her disoriented but relieved to see she was still standing. quickly getting out the car she wrapped an arm around her guiding her to the
upon their arrival back to lia’s house, leah, kim, lia, beth and steph gathered around y/n, their concern evident in their expressions. "y/n," kim began, her voice gentle yet firm, "you can’t be going around getting drunk, especially at sixteen! what were you thinking?" but before kim’s rant could continue leah placed a hand on the skippers shoulder, “you're young, and we understand that, but you have to be responsible, especially considering the position you're in.” kim nodded her head in agreement before saying, “you're part of this team now, and that means holding yourself to a higher standard than this.”
with a deep breath, she nodded in acknowledgment, her resolve hardening with each passing moment. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "i'll do better, i promise."
with that kyra, stina and laura lead her upstairs. the high heels long forgotten in the hallway as steph urged her to take them off after watching her stumble around in them. laura mumbled soothing words in german as she slipped an oversized t-shirt over y/n’s head, letting the dress fabric pool at her ankles. stina handed laura shorts for her whilst kyra rummaged around in the bathroom for makeup remover.
with tender care, kyra removed the remnants of makeup on her face, before stina tucked her into bed with gentle hands. laura laid the dress over the back of her desk chair as y/n’s eyelids drooped with exhaustion, her body finally catching up with the events of the evening as she sank into the embrace of her plush duvet.
kyra brushed a stray lock of hair from y/n’s forehead, with a final exchange of reassuring smiles kyra, stina and laura bid her goodnight, their footsteps fading into the distance as they left her to sleep. alone in the quiet of her room, y/n closed her eyes, a sense of peace washing over her as sleep overcame her senses.
but just as she began to drift into slumber, a soft knock sounded at her door, and lia entered, her face lit up by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. In her hands she carried a glass of water and a small packet of tablets, her expression one of concern and care.
"here you go, y/n/n," lia said softly, her voice a whisper in the stillness of the room. "drink this, and take these tablets. they'll help with the headache in the morning." she sat down on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on y/n’s leg, rubbing soothing circles on it. “they’re not mad at you i promise maus. let’s just keep the drinking on the cool for now, okay?”
y/n accepted the water and tablet with a grateful nod, as lia got up to leave the room she turned off the bedside table before whispering “schlaf gut maus.” the door closing behind her, the room going pitch dark allowing y/n to finally drift to sleep.
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honeytonedhottie · 3 months
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becoming an academic weapon challenge⋆.ೃ࿔*:・✍🏽
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this is a fun little challenge i created that'll hopefully help u to build good academic habits that'll improve ur grades and help inspire you to pursue excellence in ur academic life.
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STEP ONE : ROMANTICIZE THE HECK OUT OF SCHOOL
when u learn to enjoy going to school, your going to be motivated to do well in school. because school is so IMPORTANT not only for ur education but also ur future. so take school seriously. and if u wanna become an academic weapon for the long term the best thing u can do is learn to make the best of, and enjoy it.
some ways to romanticize school :
create a school playlist that embodies the school vibes that u wanna have : i have lots of new jeans in my school playlist : i rly like the songs cookie, ditto and hurt for when im at school
ur appearance : if u go to a school where u dont have to wear uniforms, i strongly recommend getting dressed and getting ready meticulously bcuz when u look good, u feel good, and therefore u perform well. if u do wear uniform, wear accessories or hairstyles that make u feel and look pretty. i wear leg warmers with my school uniform and my signature is hair clips and barrettes.
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read at school : i always walk around with a book bcuz i like to read a lot but if reading isnt ur thing, listen to a podcast about something that interests u (i rly like true crime)
take pride in ur notes : invest in cute stationary! i swear, sometimes i dont feel like studying but since my stationary is super cute and pink i get motivated to study just by looking at it lol. invest in quality stationary that u love and make ur notes look pleasing to you, and also effective. effective + aesthetically pleasing.
doing homework/studying in the library : or at least changing the scenery and location that u do ur homework from time to time. do yk how boring it is to do work in the same place every single day? give urself a break from the places u see all the time and spend time studying or doing homework outside of ur home. in a cafe or in the library, inside or outside, just change the scenery a bit
start a video diary : i started a little video diary with my friends so that we can remember our school memories. i just think its rly cute and a great way to bond with ur friends, make memories, and romanticize school.
STEP TWO : CREATE A STUDY REGIMEN
every single day study (at least for a little bit) ofc this will vary depending on ur personal schedule but the goal is to do a little bit of studying everyday, and if that isnt possible, designating 3 days a week to a thorough studying session.
the way that i divide my time with a study session is 40 minutes of work time and 20 minutes of downtime. during the 40 minutes of work time u need to LOCK IN. lock in on whatever assignment needs to be complete or lock in on whatever material it is that ur studying. ofc this'll differ between all subjects but dont study all subjects in one night!! thats ambitious, but i find it'll just burn u out so stick to studying for 2-3 subjects max.
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STEP THREE : ADVOCATING FOR URSELF
this step is for everyone who feels a bit shy during school but u need to raise ur hand and ask questions!! dont focus on simply learning the material, the goal is to understand the material. understand it enough so that then u can explain it to someone else. thats how you can know when you've studied enough.
dont feel bad for asking a bunch of questions, its literally the teachers job to help you. so advocate for urself, if u need extra classes or a bit of extra help make sure that u get that for urself bcuz at the end of the day the only one responsible for ur grade is you.
STEP FOUR : THE RULES OF THE CHALLENGE
complete every assignment as if it was for a grade - dont half ass ur assignments, give every assignment 100%
study a little bit everyday or have thorough study sessions three times a week
romanticize school
ask one or more questions per teacher
FURTHER RESOURCES :
how to study consistently without burning out - by me
studying tips from a straight A student - @universalitgirlsblog2
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spiderlyla · 9 months
Note
the high school reunion thing is so cute but now I’m also thinking about seeing him as a single person 👀 can you imagine going back to your highschool reunion and your old HS Best friend that you lost touch with after college is now this brooding 6’9 BIG MAN? my god
♤—Miguel O'Hara
—anon ur a genius.
🕸alternate idea to teenage miguel headcanons, you can read the first idea here!
🕸taglist: @general-dweebous , @mamu-writes , @beezblep
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you weren't really sure why you attended this in the first place, you didn't like half of these people during your years in highschool.
but you were free for the night, and it wouldn't hurt if you had a couple of free drinks and went home after
you didn't mingle much, just said hello to a couple of friends, catching up and engaging in small talk
it was fun for a bit, reminiscing on your time spent here, but you soon found yourself getting overwhelmed
you stepped out of the gym, deciding to take a breather in the hall, when you bumped into something
hard.
you stumbled a bit from the impact, but two hands rested on your sides, stabilising you
taking a few steps back, you apologised, and excused yourself, a little too embaressed to look up
"Ay, still as clumsy as always. No es sorprendente."
your eyes met his, and memories came crashing down on you
one person you've never expected to run into here, was your bestfriend, Miguel O'Hara
miguel and you met just like this, not too many years ago. you bumped into him so hard the two of you fell on top of one another
after that little event, you found yourself partnered with him for your biology class, and ever since you were inseprable
that was until he completely dissappeared from everyone's lives as soon as he started working for alchemax
those brown eyes you daydreamed about as a teenager were boring into yours, but you could swear they were now a little...reddish? something about him was different.
then you noticed it. everything was different.
you remember miguel as this scrawny, freakishly tall nerd with dark brown bangs covering his forehead, who barely even held himself together
not as...this.
the man who stood infront of you was nothing like you remember. his body has obviously seen some extreme changes—you were certain that his arm was bigger than your own head
it didn't help that he wore a tight black shirt, because you could see the ripples of his abs from underneath the fabric and because it tugged at all of the right places
his face was still as handsome and defined, but he wore his hair back, it was definitely a good look on him
you had always had a crush on miguel, but seeing him like this made your tummy flutter
"Miggy? What...how are you—"
he smiled, and you could swear you could see...fangs? maybe he got his canins sharpened or something.
"You look good yourself...too good." Just like him, you changed alot too, and you did put some effort into how you looked tonight. Just for a faint moment, you saw his ears turn pink, but you didn't think too much about it, there was alot of things to stare at more important than his ears.
"Its been a while since you saw me. Started working out is all. Are you leaving?"
His answer was too calculated. You haven't seen him in ages, but you know him like you know the back of your hand.
"Just taking a breather."
"Had enough already?"
"Oh, you have no idea. Most of them are even more annoying than I remember them."
He chuckles, running his hand into his soft hair. That feeling in your stomach persisted.
"Then do you want to get out of here? I only came because I thought I might see you. We could go to the bar. Talk there."
"What makes you think I wanna talk to you?" You jab a finger at his chest, and wince at the pain. Gosh, his chest was hard.
"We have alot to talk about," He flashed you another grin, "and I think I should buy you a drink. Make up for lost time."
"Oh fine, only if you're paying." You chuckle.
"...and you need to tell me what 'work out' that makes you turn into this."
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jayssluttywife · 4 months
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Bad Girl
pairing❁
reader x jungwon❁
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
summary❁
you tease jungwon by wearing a really short skirt to uni, you choose to flirt with his friend but when you guys get to your apartment he fucks you until all you remember is his name. (hehe)❁
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warnings❁perv!jungwon looks at your boobs and ass, pet names: baby, cutie; kinda cringe tbh, unprotected sex (reader is on pill hopefully), swearing?, overstimulation, orgasm denial, reader and jungwon have nothing better to do in uni,jungwon becomes pussy drunk at the end❁
smut undercut ;)
❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁
You looked at yourself in the mirror, not sure if you should wear the skirt to school. But you would do anything to tease jungwon; especially to see him get hard and suffer in between lessons. After all you had nothing better to you as you go tutored afterschool anyways so when you walked in the school building, wearing a short skirt only jungwon normally would see you in.
Jungwon came up to you, "what's up with the skirt baby?" he questioned.
"you don't like it baby?, I think its really cute" pouting your lips and giving a quick spin causing your skirt to fly up a bit.
Jungwon looked at your ass which was on display, hands in his pockets with a stern look, "watch when we get home cutie" he said before grabbing your hand and taking you both to your lesson.
He sat next to you and was focused on the lesson, which was strange because jungwon would always talk to you during lesson. You being bored and tired took this as an opportunity to put your hand on his thigh, slowly dragging the hand higher and higher until you reached his dick.
You started palming him through his trousers, now he looked at you with dark eyes, as if he was going to fuck you right there. You gave him a quick smile before focusing back on your lesson.
Before you could go any further, he moves your hand away and focused back onto the lesson.
You thought he wanted to you to stop but an hour into the lesson (the lesson is like a lecture)
, he places his hand on your thigh instead. He did exactly what you did, using one finger to rub up and down on your thigh, and about five minutes later you were wet with all the playing he was doing.
He put his hand plat onto your clothed core making you yelp. You guys were at the back so your teacher couldn't really see you, but after hearing you practically scream he sounded concerned.
"Are you ok miss y/n?" a look of concern in his eyes.
"Y-yep" you stuttered as jungwon started toying your clit giving you shivers.
The teacher then turned around, still concerned but carried on with the lesson. Jungwon on the other hand, was smirking the whole time, proud of how he could make you all red and sweaty by just touching you.
Its been about 5 minutes, lesson ends in 2 more and you are so close to cumming begging for jungwon to not let go as you were so needy but didn't want to embarrass yourself. And before you knew it, class was over, and jungwon had let go making you whine in disappointment.
As it was lunchtime, you went to the toilet and fixed yourself up. You then came up with a plan to get back at jungwon for what he did, you were still wet and planned to try "flirt" with one of his friends.
Easiest target hmm... Jake.
Jake has always liked you, more than a friend and jungwon hated this so you took this opportunity to try it out.
Slowly walking out of the girls toilet, and into the lunch hall sat next to jake who was busy playing on his phone and started your plan.
"Hi jakee" you spoke, drawing his attention of your phone to you. He greeted you back, and you guys started talking, touching his shoulder whenever he said one of his silly jokes, and widening your eyes a little bigger than normal and not even noticing jungwon for a minute. Jungwon on the other hand was eyeing not even you, but his supposedly best friend who was talking to his girlfriend as if he wasn't there.
Time goes on and you finally notice Jungwon staring at you two. You act surprised asking him what's wrong and even calling him 'wonie'. He doesn't answer you, staring deeply at your eyes as if he was telling you that you knew what you were doing.
❁Time skip❁
You're finally home, jungwon is at basketball but he would be home anytime soon. You on the other hand had forgot anything that went on in uni. You were laying on your bed, wearing thigh high socks, a low cut shirt (exposing your chest), and a cute skirt in all white.
All of a sudden, you hear loud footsteps dropping something and making their way upstairs.
"Hi wonie!" you ran to hug him as he walked through your bedroom door. He grabs the hands that you were about to hug him with and pins you to the wall catching you by surprise.
" What the fuck are you wearing" he moves back, examining what you wore, he looks at your boobs, full on display and a full view of your soft thighs.
He goes back to looking at your face, your eyes big and watery and you were rubbing your thighs together now, angry jungwon was a defo turn on. He grabs your hair, kissing you harshly and starts rubbing his boner on you, you can tell he had it for long. He puts your head to the side, sucking on your neck and biting it, causing you to whimper.
A few minutes later you were pressed up against jungwon's study desk face down, ass up. He slowly pulled down your panties, looking at your wet, red, pussy.
"Jake cant have this right?, or do you want me to show him how much of a bad girl you are" he wasn't actually going to, he just loved your 'no please don't do that jungwon!' your pleads were like music to his ears. He stays silent, keeping you begs going.
"Jungwon please don't do that, please I was joking, please won- aAH!" He enters you in one quick thrust, holding your ponytail for support he pulls it harder, dragging your head closer to his as he leans closer as well.
"you wont talk to Jake like that again, right baby?" he whispers close to your ear.
"mhm, n-never again!" you didn't want to make him more angry, only agreeing to whatever he said.
He then pulls your hair harder, making you arch your back. His sharp thrusts sending you to a different planet. You were reaching so close to your release, legs trembling as jungwon whispers filthy thing in your ear making you clench around him.
"Be a good girl and take wonie's cock alright, fuuuck keep clenching around me like that with your small pussy." he chuckles as you whimper, your crying now.
With shaky moans, you release your juices all over your thighs, making jungwon scoff.
"Wow we don't ask for permission now, what a... bad girl"
"your crying baby, but you wanted this" he couldn't help but fantasize about your pretty lips wrapped around his cock with the same tears you were shedding right now.
Jungwon starts ranting into you again, you start moaning louder again, trying to stop him for carrying on.
"T-too much wonnieee!"
"Wonie hasn't cummed yet" he laughed out loud now at your state.
With the last few thrusts and you clenching around him, he cums, letting out the hottest, deep moan. He pulls out of you and you make your way to your bed. Jungwon leaves the room as your catching your breath, upset that jungwon left you but you soon fall asleep.
He come back in the room (of course) with a wet towel, spreading and wiping your legs and your swollen, red pussy. He puts the towel aside, puts on your pyjama shorts and lays next to you, arms wrapping around your waist. He realises how harsh he was on you, and starts whispering soft things to you.
"Baby I'm sorry for being too harsh, just couldn't help it when i see you talking to jake like that." he kisses your forehead multiple times. You smile secretly at his words, but jungwon sees you.
"Ill definitely remember this for later"
I would say jungwon is really a brat tamer he just hates
bad girls.
♡Ty for reading cutiepiee, don't forget to send me ideas of anything you want me to write about!♡
@yoi-wonie @bungeopang848 @nuttyenthusiastdaze @wooziswife
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munson-blurbs · 11 days
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Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)
♫ Summary: Running an errand together brings out even more sides of Eddie Munson, including one that you wish you'd never seen (5.2k words)
♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, parental conflict, poverty, jealousy, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)
♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult
chapter six: the eye of the tiger
Guilt fit like the shoes your mom forced you to wear as a kid, the dressy ones reserved for special occasions. It pinched at you, dug into you, a constant reminder of its unwelcome presence.
And so you did everything you could to alleviate the discomfort. On Wednesday, Dad mosied into the lobby for his shift to find the floor meticulously swept; there was not a speck of dust in sight. If he had any suspicions, he didn’t bother to show them. He was probably just grateful for the help regardless of its cause.
Mom, as usual, was more skeptical of your intentions, raising a disbelieving brow when you presented her with the bills you’d reorganized by their due dates. You’d offered up the excuse of being bored with nothing better to do. Did she buy it? Unlikely. But she also didn’t pose further questions, choreographing another step in your dance.
And when Dad hung up the phone Friday afternoon, thumb and forefinger massaging the bridge of his nose, you jumped at the chance to fix the situation.
“Everything okay?”
He looked up with a start, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to realize you’d been standing in the doorway. 
“That was Uncle Mo,” he said with an elongated sigh. “The delivery truck won’t start; something’s busted, I guess, so we won’t get our wallpaper until it’s out of the shop.”
“I can go after class,” you volunteered. The shop was a twenty minute bus ride from school, no transfers required. Lugging it on the subway back home might prove more challenging, but you could manage it. 
He dashed your dreams with a swift shake of his head. “They close early for the Sabbath.” Which meant they’d be closed all day tomorrow, too. 
Dad glanced around at the walls, lip scraping over his bottom lip. Their barrenness unsettled him; his pride and joy left empty and exposed.  
Imagine how he’ll feel once this place is boarded up for good. Bet he won’t care about some ugly walls then. 
“I’ll go on Sunday.” The promise practically made itself before you could stop it. Your final paper was due on Tuesday, and you had planned to spend your weekend finishing it, but that would need to take a backseat until the wallpaper crisis was resolved.
You could be part of that solution. For now, at least.
Sunlight teased summer’s beginning and warmed your skin. The walk to the subway station required you to cross paths with the mailbox you’d fought with—and humbly lost to—a few days prior. Dejection shot through your chest as you paused in front of it, focusing on a spot of rusted metal where the paint had flaked off. Short of intercepting the United States Postal Service, there was nothing you could do. Besides, your acceptance was probably already locked inside NYU’s admissions office, sitting among a pile of identical envelopes. Most of them, you suspected, were mailed with exuberance and not with the trepidation you carried. 
The station’s stuffiness engulfed you as you descended the stairs, fingertips brushing the railing to ensure your balance. Your return trip would be short of torture, sweat prickling beneath your arms at the mere thought of dragging wallpaper through the thick humidity. You might have to splurge for a cab to avoid melting completely.
Frantic, impassioned guitar strumming grabbed your attention just before you approached the turnstile, echoing off of the concrete and infiltrating all of your senses. Your breath caught in your throat when you saw that Eddie was the source of the noise. He leaned against the wall as he played an electric guitar—the same one he had clutched so dearly when sleeping at the bus stop. There was no microphone, no amplifier; just him and his instrument. The case was open in front of him, now holding a few scattered dollar bills and some loose change. 
He didn’t notice you, not at first, so you took that opportunity to silently watch him. His head nodded along with the beat, his voice a low timbre as he sang. 
Trust I seek and I find in you 
Every day for us something new 
Open mind for a different view 
And nothing else matters
The chords were nearly drowned out by his vocals, and the softer strumming should have clashed with the harsh lyrics, but he made it work. 
It was somehow even sadder than when Metallica played it, though not from a lack of power. Eddie’s version intertwined anger with desperation, a somber reprise of the gritty original. 
Deft fingers pressed into the frets, the pick pinched between the other hand’s thumb and forefinger. He took a step forward to launch himself into the chorus with a combination of focus and ease. This is what he was meant to do, what he was born to do. Whether he was in front of a captivated audience of thousands or a smattering of indifferent commuters, he was a rockstar. 
Never cared for what they say
Never cared for games they play
Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know
And I know, yeah, yeah
Heat blossomed in your belly at his gravelly voice, the way he pulled the notes from the depths of his diaphragm and belted them out. The E train came and went as it screeched along the tracks, but you remained as though the soles of your feet were glued to the ground. 
So close, no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart 
Forever trusting who we are 
No, nothing else matters
For a brief moment after finishing the song, Eddie’s chest puffed out with pride. It quickly faltered in the absence of applause, but before he could play another song, his gaze landed on you. He grinned and shook a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. Part of you wanted to fix it for him, to tuck it behind his ear or sweep it all back into a ponytail, but you refrained. Instead, you dug into your purse and tossed a dollar into the case. 
“Was that the one I gave you for the cab?” Eddie asked, fingers absently brushing over the strings in a series of random chords. 
“Nah, this was from the other asshole guest who made me late for class.”
Your jibe caught him off-guard and he actually laughed with such force that he had to stop playing. “And here I thought I was the only one.” He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as it snagged on a knot. “Are you going to the library or something?”
You lacked the energy to explain that the library was in the opposite direction, opting instead to cut to the chase. “Picking up the wallpaper.”
Eddie’s brow furrowed and he cocked his head. “I thought it was being delivered.” As you relayed the whole broken-truck saga, he started sliding the guitar strap up off of his back and crouched down, stuffing the money from the case into his pockets. “Cool. I’ll go with.”
“Oh, I wasn’t–” You paused mid-sentence to consider your words. “I mean, you don’t have to. I can do it on my own.”
“S’fine.” Eddie laid the guitar down with the fragility that one would handle a newborn baby and snapped the case shut. “Didn’t realize this station is basically dead on Sundays. I normally just play here during the week, but I’ve been out of commission.” He held up his bandaged finger and pouted impishly.
The familiar playfulness settled back into the conversation, breaking up any lingering awkwardness, and you snatched up the opportunity to tease him. “Ah, right. Your man stuff.”
“Very manly. Burly, some might say.” He extended one hand in front of him, palm up, to gesture towards the turnstiles. “Shall we?”
You led and he followed behind so closely that his chest smacked into your back when you stopped in your tracks. The uneven weight distribution, courtesy of the guitar case lolling at his side, thrusted him forward, the metal buckle on his belt digging into your skin through your shirt. 
It set off a domino effect, one that had you falling face-first to the ground. Before you could even brace for impact, you felt Eddie’s fingers digging into your hip and tugging you upright. The way he caught you was almost reflexive, his grasp controlled enough to avoid bruising your skin, but strong enough that you realized he could if he wanted to. 
“What happened?” His tone was mixed with both concern and amusement; a crackle of laughter broke up his question. 
An embarrassing adrenaline surge shot through you, bringing with it a chill that immediately preceded a heatwave of perspiration. “The, um…” You lamely pointed at the card swipe machines that had replaced the token receptacles. “I forgot that we need those MetroCard things.” 
Eddie let go of your hip and you felt his absence almost immediately. “No, we don’t.” He left no time for questioning, hoisting the case to the other side and pushing himself up and over the bar, landing on his feet with cat-like dexterity. 
You stared at him in disbelief. Sure, you’d jumped the turnstile a time or two, but that was back in high school, under the influence of friends you hadn’t talked to since. 
“What’re you waiting for?” He called out. A Cheshire-cat grin graced his lips. 
What were you waiting for? It’s not like the transit police were scouring the station. The poor schmuck stuck at the now-defunct token booth was exasperatedly trying to explain the new system to an older gentleman; he probably wouldn’t have noticed a wildebeest stampede. And you certainly weren’t eager to contribute to the politicians who lined their pockets with taxpayer money. 
Fuck it. 
In one swift motion—much more graceful than your earlier stumble—you mimicked his actions. One foot, then the other, your biceps supporting your body weight. 
“You little rebel.” Eddie tutted, his smirk showing off his teeth. You never noticed the way one canine is slightly sharper than the other, and it digs into his lower lip. “This is how it starts, y’know. One day, you’re skipping out on train fare; the next, you’re committing armed robbery.”
If he kept rubbing your nerves raw, you might be more tempted to commit homicide. 
Another E train arrived not long after. You were an expert at scouting empty seats, and you made a beeline for the first one you found. There was another one across the way, just vacated by a woman pushing a stroller, and you assumed Eddie would take it. 
Instead, he shoved his guitar case towards you, parting your legs between the knees, and grabbed onto one of the overhead handles. 
“Can you hold this?” Eddie asked belatedly. He rocked forward onto his toes as the train moved to keep his balance. A guitar pick necklace swung out from beneath the vee of his shirt and swayed above you. 
You drank in the way he towered over you, so close that he was all you could see. The mingled scents of the motel’s soap and a musky deodorant wafted off of him and enveloped your senses. For a second, there was only him, and whatever the outside world had to offer was just shy of meaningless. 
“There’s a seat down there.” You peered around him and gestured to the one you’d spotted earlier, careful not to point at anyone. 
Eddie looked but declined with a shrug. “Nah, I’m good. I like standing.”
“See, that’s the kind of thing that separates the natives from the transplants.” You smiled up at him. “You didn’t even want to sit down after a gig? Or a long rehearsal?”
“I didn’t really ever take the subway,” he admitted. “Maybe, like, once or twice.”
You huffed out an incredulous laugh. “How did you get around?” 
“Taxis, car service.” He ticked off the items on his free hand. “One time we rented a helicopter, but then the label threatened to revoke the company card.” He chuckled forlornly, like the memory was heavier than an impromptu helicopter ride. 
“Sounds like you were living the life.”
Eddie shook off his wistfulness with a cheeky grin. “Hell yeah. Expensive restaurants, swanky hotels…did I ever tell you about the time we trashed our room?”
“You did not.” You’re not sure you want to know, considering he’s currently staying in one of yours. 
He laughed. “Get this: we come back to the hotel after a gig. We’re all fuckin’ exhausted. As soon as we walk into the lobby, the night manager is on us like a hawk. I mean, the guy gave a stink eye like you wouldn’t believe.” He tried mimicking him, but he was too upbeat to embody the manager’s full ire. “Anyway, we’re not in the room for five minutes when there’s a knock on the door. Of course it’s that schmuck, warning us about the noise policy.”
You looked at him incredulously. “That’s why you destroyed a hotel room?” 
“Mhm.” Eddie proudly nodded, not missing the way concern furrowed your brow. “Don’t worry, Heiress. I’d never trash your place.”
“I’d have to get Phyllis after you.” Laughter bubbled out of you at his visible cringe, probably thinking of being on the other end of her baseball bat. “Okay, so what’s the dumbest thing you guys bought with the company card?”
People pushed through the aisle as the train pulled up to the stop, elbows nudging Eddie until he was practically on top of you. Every hair on your body stood up at the sudden change in proximity. “Probably one of those stuffed tiger things for our apartment,” he admitted.
“You and your band bought a taxidermied tiger?” You scoffed. 
His face flushed, and he scratched at his jaw like he’d been caught red-handed. “N-No, not the whole band. Just me and the drummer. We, um, she was my girlfriend, I guess.”
Puzzle pieces started falling into place and interlocking curves. His ex-girlfriend was also in the band, which was probably why they broke up once Eddie quit. “How long were you two together?” You instantly regret not asking about the tiger instead, for his sake and yours. 
“Hard to say; we were pretty on-and-off.” Eddie tried to play it off casually but terse laughter gave him away. The subway lurched and Eddie swayed forward again, his knee grazing yours. “But it was about a year from start to finish.”
You let the information sink in. He had a girlfriend in Death’s Echo, but he seemed to be unattached at the moment. Made sense, considering he was living in your motel rather than with a partner.
“That’s what no one tells you about money: it runs out.” Eddie continued. “It’s like, common sense or whatever. But when you have no money and then you get a shit-ton of it, it’s hard to imagine ever going back.” 
His eyes found yours like he had been searching for them, and you held his gaze until a monotone voice crackled over the speaker, announcing that the train was approaching the Forest Hills-71st Avenue station. 
“We have to transfer here.”
Eddie wrinkled his nose, clearly not thrilled by this extra step, but he followed your lead without any audible protest.
“Y’know,” he said as the doors opened, the two of you joining the swarm of people pushing their way out, “my neighborhood back home was also called Forest Hills.”
“Seems fancy,” you quipped. 
He laughed, head thrown back. “Oh, yeah. It’s the most glamorous trailer park in all of Indiana.”
The faux pas curdled in your stomach. What were you thinking? He had just confessed that he was broke before Death’s Echo. 
“Sorry, that was stupid.”
He shrugged off your comment, seemingly unbothered. “How many stops is this next one?”
“Just two.”
He hummed his acknowledgment, and with the R train less crowded than the E, you found seats adjacent to one another.
You did your best to ignore the way his right leg brushed your left, the worn denim against your bare skin as the train jostled him. He murmured a barely-audible “sorry.”
There was no reason for him to apologize, and you almost told him this, but you substituted a tight smile for words. Truthfully, you were glad he confirmed that the touch was accidental. You’d nearly nudged him back, a secret handshake of sorts, and your body burned with the mere prospect of embarrassment.
The train screeched to a stop in front of a sign that barely read 63rd Drive-Rego Park, most of the letters covered in colorful graffiti tags. 
“This is us,” you said, handing him back his guitar so you could stand up. 
Eddie stepped aside with a small bow, equal parts awkward and endearing. “So, uh, where are we going, exactly?” He stayed close enough so you could hear him over the cacophony of commuters. 
“S’just a few blocks.” You maintained your fast-paced stride so as to not get bowled over. 
He kept up with you surprisingly well for someone unused to navigating the city’s public transit. The fresh air welcomed you as you ascended the stairs, leaving behind the station’s mugginess. Conversations and traffic replaced metallic clunking while you weaved in and out of a sea of pedestrians, checking every so often to ensure you hadn’t left Eddie behind. 
Bold white letters on a maroon awning proudly proclaimed Eisen’s Paint and Supply, and the faint sound of bell chimed when you opened the door. A middle-aged man stood behind the counter, eyes lighting up when you walked in. 
“Uncle Mo!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. Uncle Mo wasn’t your father’s brother, but their bond went beyond blood relation. He was part of nearly all of Dad’s stories since they’d met in high school: the good, the bad, and the ugly. 
There was more gray in his hair and in his beard than the last time you’d seen him, the lines from his lips to his jaw more pronounced, but he still wore the same cologne that you’d remembered. The familiar scent was like home, a reminder of all of the Thanksgivings your families had spent together before the motel engulfed your life. 
He beamed, his hands bracing your upper arms as he got a better look at you. “Look at you; so grown up!” His eyes misted over for a second before he blinked the moisture away. “How long has it been?”
“Too long.” You turned back to Eddie, waving him over and introducing him. Uncle Mo politely extended a hand that Eddie shook quickly before shoving his fingers back in his pocket. 
“Before I get your paper,” Uncle Mo said to you with a mischievous smile, “I have a bit of a surprise.” The stockroom door swung open on cue and a young man stepped out from behind it. 
Your hand flew to your mouth in shock, every bone in your body vibrating. “Ben?” The name was muffled but still audible, and Ben opened his arms just in time for you to tackle him in an embrace.
His gangly teenage limbs had been replaced with hard muscle, his chest straining through his t-shirt. There was no trace of the wispy excuse for a mustache he’d once proudly sported; his face was freshly shaven, only the slightest evidence of his stubble scratched against your cheek when he pulled you to him. 
“I couldn’t believe it when my dad told me you were stopping by,” Ben said, finally letting go after a few moments. He looked at Eddie as if noticing him for the first time. “Ben. Nice to meet you.”
Eddie said nothing in response, his jaw set and his arms crossed over his chest. Whatever friendliness he’d shown Uncle Mo was clearly not being granted to his son. 
“Ben, this is Eddie,” you hurried to explain before the tension became unbearably dense. “He works for the motel, doing different repairs and odd jobs. Whatever we need, really.”
Your old friend nodded and brought his attention back to you. “Do you guys need help bringing the wallpaper back? I don’t have anything to–”
“We’ve got it.” Eddie cut him off curtly, clipping the conversation’s wings. His eyes narrowed in judgmental assessment and their milk chocolate hue turned dark.
Ben had evidently stepped on his toes; you thought back to the wasp’s nest and his adamance to clobber it with a baseball bat despite your insistence to wait until you bought the spray. You shot Eddie a look that he either disregarded or didn’t notice, because his clenched jaw never loosened. 
“Right, yeah.” A blush crept into Ben’s cheeks, the other man’s brusqueness catching him off-guard. “But we should catch up soon,” he said to you, “maybe grab a cup of coffee?”
It was an effort to ignore the way Eddie tensed up; even more so to pretend like his reaction hadn’t stirred something inside of you. Everything between you and him, and you and Ben, was strictly platonic. Whatever melodrama he’d conjured up was his problem, not yours. 
Your relationship with Eddie teetered between acquaintances and friends; he was in no position to get bent out of shape over you going for coffee with Ben or any other man.
You pushed the intrusive thought away long enough to answer Ben’s question. “Yeah, of course! You’re home for the whole summer?”
“Actually…” Ben’s grin widened, harboring a secret he was eager to spill. “I’m back for good. You’re looking at Dr. Benjamin Eisen, D.D.S.”
“That’s amazing!”
He nodded happily, enthusiasm unrestrained. “Thanks. I’m hoping to open up a practice nearby, so I’ll be sticking around for a while.”
That was the best news you’d heard in a while. The pair of you were once inseparable, always devising plans to convince your parents to extend their visits. When you were six, you’d almost started a fire trying to put on a pot of coffee, hoping that it would coax the Eisens into staying longer. 
Too bad you’d forgotten to add the water. 
Uncle Mo returned from the stock room with rolls of wallpaper, and his son shuffled towards him to take one from his grasp. 
“Are you sure I can’t help out?” Ben tried again. He only looked at you when he spoke. 
You almost took him up on his offer, the reply sitting on the tip of your tongue, but Eddie answered for you. 
“We’re good,” he said flatly, taking the rolls from the other men. “I used to lug around amps all the time. This is nothing.”
He’d uttered the same phrase before taking a bat to a wasp’s nest, and he’d ended up hurt. Still, inviting Ben along would almost certainly guarantee an awkward commute home. At best, you’d force stilted small talk; at worst, Eddie might shove Ben onto the tracks. 
“Thanks anyway,” you said politely, trying to temper your irritation. 
Ben gave a tight smile, brows shooting up when remembered something. “Let me give you my new phone number so we can set up a time to meet up.” He plucked a business card from the little plastic container on the desk, flipping it over and scrawling his number on the back. 
“Sounds great.” It truly did, save for Eddie’s glare that made you grateful looks couldn’t actually kill. 
Tucking the card into your purse, you held him in one last hug before bidding them goodbye. 
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Eddie said nothing the entire walk back to the subway station. He strode there despite heaving around a guitar case and cylinders of wallpaper. You suspected he could have flown there if he wasn’t so bogged down. The closest he came to acknowledging your presence was the scoff he let out when you veered off-course to buy a MetroCard. 
You ignored him, still fuming over his behavior towards Ben. With trembling fingers, you dropped your change into the coin slot, acutely aware of his presence as he stood beside you. He was close enough that you could hear his tense sigh, as though his frustration was justified.
Yanking the card out from behind the swinging Plexiglass, you silently stalked over to the turnstile, Eddie begrudgingly hot on your heels. The tiny diagram showed the magnetic strip facing downwards and you did your best to emulate it. After two failed swipes, the machine relented and gave an approving beep.
“Go,” you told Eddie, and when he stared at you blankly, you repeated yourself with considerably less patience. “Go.”
“Okay, okay.” There was no hiding his surprise at your insistence, the sharpness of your tongue. He obviously wasn't accustomed to taking the attitude he dished out. His eyebrows crashed into his hairline as he maneuvered through, wallpaper bumping up against the metal gates. 
There wasn’t enough money left on the card for you, so after a brief glance at your surroundings, you once again lift yourself up and over to the other side. The metal barrier seemed laughably obsolete beneath you.
Eddie blinked twice in rapid succession but composed himself before you reached him again. A peculiar expression graced his face; not so much amusement as much as admiration. If you weren’t so annoyed with him, with his antics back at Eisen’s, you might have cracked a joke about his bad influence rubbing off on you. 
The first leg of the trip—the shortest part, as it were, went smoothly. It was once the E train departed from Forest Hills that it almost immediately halted, the exasperated conductor announcing that extensive track work was causing delays. 
“Fucking great,” you muttered. Experience told you that the remainder of the ride would be stop-and-go, which meant more time spent with Eddie. 
He’d exhaled an exasperated sigh of his own, eyes flickering over the subway car and foot tapping to a beat only he could hear. When he finally spoke, it was the last thing you’d expected him to say. 
“Wanna play I Spy?”
“Um, what?”
“Y’know, I spy with my little eye…” he explained, as though you were confused about the game concept.
It took every last ounce of energy not to burst out laughing at his odd request, though it helped that annoyance still tarnished your mood. “All right. Sure.” 
“Cool.” He glanced around again, rubbing his palms over his thighs in concentration. “Okay, I spy with my little eye, something purple.”
Squinting, you searched for shades of lilac and violet. “That woman’s shirt?” You jutted your chin towards an older woman sitting across the car. 
“Nope.”
“That little girl’s shoes?”
Eddie just shook his head, his dimples gradually deepening with each wrong answer you gave. 
Your next three guesses were also incorrect, and Eddie triumphantly pumped his fist when you admitted defeat. 
“It’s the words on that sign,” he said, pointing to an advertisement for psychic readings. 
It was your turn, and it didn’t take you long to find your target. 
“I spy with my little eye, something…douchey.” Your gaze never left his face, watching the skin crease between his brows as he connected your implication. 
Eddie threw his head back and cackled, drawing the ire of your fellow commuters. You shushed him with a hiss, his apathy only fueling your anger. 
“Fine, I guess I deserved that.” He leaned back in his seat and stretched his arms upwards. For a second, you thought he might drape one over your shoulders, but he brought them right back to his lap. 
“You guess?” You gawped, and he laughed even louder. “You were a total asshole to Ben for no reason.”
Eddie’s voice got feather-soft; you had to lean in to hear him. “Trust me; I had a reason.”
You snorted. “What, him offering to help carry the wallpaper threatened your ‘man stuff?’”
“Something like that.” 
Crossing your arms, you shot him a bemused grimace. Whatever testosterone-laden excuse he concocted would just strengthen your irritation, so you saved yourself the headache and  plundered on. 
“Ben and I have been friends since I was born.” That wasn’t an exaggeration; a photo of one-year-old Ben holding newborn you was tucked away in one of Mom’s albums. Dad had snapped the photo while Uncle Mo sat next to his son, helping cradle your head. You were only a few hours old. “Whatever your problem is, don’t make it mine. Or his,” you add.
Eddie had no response to that, and you preferred it that way. Maybe he was learning not to argue with you, especially when he was so obviously wrong.
Your response halted all conversation for the rest of the extended ride and continued during the short trek back to the motel. The quiet was necessary, but not peaceful, and you refused to buckle when an invisible pull urged you to talk again, to push past the discomfort. If you couldn’t outright tell him that he’d upset you, the least he could do was feel that anger.
“Where do these go?” Eddie asked once the motel’s doors closed behind you. You pointed to the supply closet and he ambled over, wincing as the hinges squeaked in a plea for lubrication. “All right, so, I can get started on this tonight if you want.”
You considered this for a moment before shaking your head. The lobby could survive another night with bare walls, but you needed a break. A break not just from Eddie, but from his naivety to his actions having consequences. 
“Tomorrow’s fine.”
He stilled, his hands halfway in his pockets. “I mean, I was going to stop by anyway; I might as well—”
“I think I just need some quiet tonight.” It was the nicest response you could muster, though the way the words passed through your clenched teeth gave away your annoyance. 
“Oh.” His cheeks puffed out as he exhaled a breath of air, his eyes refusing to meet yours. Confusion tied his tongue, but if he didn’t realize the mistake he’d made, you were in no mood to spell it out. He waited a beat for you to follow up, to iron out the creases with an explanation that had nothing to do with his earlier behavior, but that never happened.
The lack of reassurance pained you, too. You despised leaving matters unfinished; part of you wanted to apologize—for what, you weren’t sure—just to have some resolution. 
Eddie raked his fingers through his curls. “Well, I’m sorry for pissing you off, or whatever.”
Or whatever. Those two words almost had you smacking him upside the head with the wallpaper tubes. Maybe sealing his lips with the glue, too. 
The worst part was the shock on his face when you’d wordlessly stormed out of the supply closet towards your room. Like he had no idea what he’d done wrong or why his non-apology fell flat. 
No, that was a lie. The worst part was actually the pang of disappointment in your chest when there were no footsteps pounding down the hall, no knock on your door, no attempt to talk through the situation. As much as you wanted to be left alone, you’d clutched to an optimistic sliver that he would follow you. It was a pathetic need for proof that he cared about you as more than just his employer. As his friend.
But there was nothing.
That silence hurt most of all. 
--
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solarmorrigan · 4 months
Note
For the dialogue prompt, how about “What happened doesn’t change anything” for either Steddie or Newmann?
Thank you!
Hello hello hello I finally have something for you! I chose Steddie for this one, since I was on a roll. I hope this suits!
[post-S2 Steddie AU; CW: Outing, transphobia, some internalized transphobia; soft ending guaranteed, though]
-
When he sees Hagan meandering over towards them in the parking lot after school, his queen bee tagalong, Perkins, in tow, Eddie knows nothing good is going to follow. The way he feels Steve shift beside him says that he suspects much the same. The rest of the Hellfire guys, all gathered around Eddie’s van, talking and joking before heading home, have fallen silent.
It’s a small consolation that Hagan isn’t trailing Hargrove; since putting Steve in the hospital (briefly, Steve always interjects) last November, Hargrove has mostly given him—and the members of the Hellfire Club, once Steve had been taken into their fold—a fairly wide berth. Hagan, however, has had no compunctions about hassling Steve whenever he gets a bug up his ass about something, and he’s only become nastier since he started toadying for Hargrove.
So Eddie expects trouble, but he hadn’t expected–
Hagan starts small, crowing about how Steve has finally found his rightful place: among the freaks. Steve doesn’t give anything away, no displeasure, no anger, just bored indifference – the same mask he’s always hidden behind (the one Eddie had learned pretty quickly to see past, once he knew what to look for). But Hagan pushes.
“I guess the freaks already have a king,” Hagan snipes, cutting a glance at Eddie, “but I’m sure he needs a lady to rule by his side, right, Stevie?”
It seems like an unoriginal sort of dig—calling Steve a girl, how creative—except Steve goes pale. The mask slips, showing wide and frightened eyes for just a moment, but for Hagan, who’s known Steve for years, it’s long enough. He knows he’s hit something good.
“Do all your new little friends know, Stevie-boy? What makes you fit right in with them?” Hagan glances around the group, apparently enjoying the fact that if looks could kill, he’d be dead four times over. Then he leans in and practically spits at Steve, “Do they know that they got into your pants, you’d be less of a King Steve and more of a Queen Stacy?”
And that does it – shatters Steve’s mask so thoroughly that he actually takes a step back, staring at Hagan with a kind of disbelieving betrayal frozen on his face.
The full meaning of the words hits Eddie about three seconds before Hagan hits the side of the van, one of Eddie’s hands fisted in the front of his t-shirt and the other held firm at the base of his throat – not hurting, exactly, but heavily implying that he could.
Eddie doesn’t even have to reach for one of the many theatrical voices he uses to rile people up or cow them into submission; he’s so thoroughly taken by a type of rage he hasn’t let himself give into in a long time that his tone comes out perfectly threatening all on its own.
“If you ever repeat what you just said to another person, I will find out, and I will make your life a living hell,” he hisses.
Somewhere behind him, someone—it might be Jeff, though Eddie isn’t sure—clears their throat, and when Eddie tosses a glance over his shoulder, he finds the rest of Hellfire standing firm at his back (even tiny underclassman Gareth, with his arms crossed and the meanest look on his face the poor kid can muster).
“Ah, my apologies,” Eddie says as he faces front again, flashing a manic little grin, “we will find out. And we’ll ruin your life, Hagan. Same goes for your girlfriend.”
Perkins, who had been standing off to the side as the snickering peanut gallery right up until Eddie had pinned Hagan to the side of the van, makes a choked noise of offense that goes entirely ignored.
“Tell me you understand, Tommy-boy.” Eddie punctuates the command with a flex of his fingers near Hagan’s throat, until Hagan reluctantly nods, and Eddie releases him. “Glad we’re in agreement.”
Hagan and Perkins hightail it the other side of the parking lot, leaving them be with nothing more than a nasty look from Perkins, but no one is much in the mood to chat after that. No one really knows what to say – except Steve, who offers a quiet thanks to the rest of the guys and, having caught a ride in with Eddie that morning, then asks to be taken home.
Even with the radio playing quietly as Eddie drives, the atmosphere in the van feels silent and stifling.
Asking Steve if he’s alright feels like kind of a ridiculous move. Eddie wouldn’t be alright if he was in Steve’s position – hell, Eddie’s not alright. He’s pissed. But from the way Steve is sitting rigidly in the passenger seat, staring out the window like Eddie is driving him to his execution, Eddie’s anger—even on his behalf—isn’t what he needs right now.
Slowly, Eddie forces himself to let it go (for now, at least for now) and follow the familiar roads home.
It feels perfectly natural to simply head back to his place, where they’d been planning to go before that shitshow of a confrontation, though the surprise on Steve’s face when they pull up to the trailer says that he’d thought otherwise.
“You could’ve just taken me back to my house. I wouldn’t– I’d get it,” he says, and Eddie frowns at him.
“Did you want to go back to your house? We can hang out there if you want, I just figured…” Eddie tilts his head regarding him carefully. “You seem more comfortable here.”
Steve stares at him for a long moment, blank and uncertain, before he breaks back into motion with a shrug. “Okay,” he says, moving to get out of the van.
They head inside and nod a quick hello to Wayne, who looks like he’s just woken up in preparation for his shift, and then they go straight back to Eddie’s room. Eddie’s bag goes on the desk, but Steve’s goes by the door. Eddie sits down on the bed (admittedly one of the few places to sit, but also an invitation for Steve to come sit next to him) but Steve – Steve hesitates before leaning up against the wall, by the door with his bag, arms crossed and gaze cast towards the floor.
He looks ready to run at any moment, and Eddie sighs. This thing between them is new – so new that they’ve been afraid to put a label to it, dancing around each other uncertainly for months before sharing their first kiss barely a month ago. They’ve spent almost every available moment since with their hands on each other in some way or another, though Steve has been a bit skittish about moving past making out (Eddie had thought that maybe it was the unfamiliarity of being with another guy, but he thinks he might have a better understanding of the picture now).
Eddie doesn’t want to break things by pushing too hard, but somehow, he thinks leaving it unaddressed would be worse.
“Look, we don’t have to talk about it,” he says, watching Steve, though Steve still isn’t looking back, “but if you want to…”
Steve shrugs. “I wasn’t hiding it from you,” he says, finally glancing up at Eddie. “I mean, I was, but not– I was going to tell you.”
“You don’t owe me any kind of explanation,” Eddie says.
“You would’ve found out eventually, either way.” Steve lets out a sound that suggests he may have been trying to laugh. “But it was – I should’ve been the one to tell you. That was – that was mine to tell.”
A little bit of Eddie breaks as Steve’s voice does. He’s almost vibrating with the desire to hold and to reassure, to go over to where Steve is standing, still propped against the wall, practically curling in on himself (trying to make himself smaller), but he’s not sure how well it would be received. He tries words, instead.
“Steve, I’m so sorry–”
“That was the one thing,” Steve snaps, anger tearing across his tone, “the one thing Tommy would never touch, the one thing that was off limits, even he knew– and he just–” As quickly as it had come, the anger goes, taking Steve’s energy with it. He presses the heels of his palms into his eyes and lets his hands slide down to cover his face; when he speaks again, he sounds small. “I wasn’t ready.”
Eddie couldn’t keep himself from crossing the room if he’d tried – though isn’t trying, after that. He’s up off the bed and into Steve’s space before he’s even realized, and it’s probably only his proximity that allows him to hear what Steve says next.
“I’m not ready for things to change between us.”
“Steve,” Eddie says, low and careful, “what happened doesn’t change anything.”
Steve pulls his hands away from his face with a derisive little huff of a laugh. His cheeks are red and his eyes are bright; he’s not crying, but it looks like a near thing.
“It’s – like, I get it. You’re fully into guys, and I’m…” He waves his hands down at himself, sharp and frustrated. “Most people wouldn’t call me a real guy, if they knew.”
“Since when am I most people?” Eddie asks. “You say you’re a guy, you’re a real guy, fucking end of. Anyone who thinks otherwise can fuck off.”
Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes, clearly trying to hold back a much more emotional reaction, and Eddie chances resting his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Steve doesn’t move away, even eases a little into the touch when Eddie starts circling his thumbs at the skin right where his shirt collar ends.
“You don’t have to believe me right now,” Eddie says softly. “But I like you, Steve. I like you, andI’m gonna stick around and prove it to you.”
Something about the declaration makes Steve’s eyes snap right to Eddie’s, searching, anxious and cautiously hopeful, and Eddie lets him look. Whatever he’s after, maybe he finds it, because he uncurls from himself a little after that, just enough to lean in for a hesitant kiss that becomes much more certain when Eddie himself doesn’t hold back.
Eddie pulls Steve back over to the bed after that, poking and prodding him around until they’re both settled, Eddie’s back to the pillows and Steve’s back to Eddie’s chest (Steve’s never said as much, but Eddie’s gathered that this is one of his favorite positions to cuddle in; he doubts if Steve’s spent much time being the little spoon).
“Tell me something else,” Eddie says, once he’s got his arms wrapped securely around Steve’s waist.
“What?” Steve asks.
“Tell me something that you want me to know.” Eddie leans forward to press a kiss to Steve’s temple. “Anything.”
For a moment, Steve is quiet, thinking as he traces absent patterns over Eddie’s forearms. “I could tell you why I picked Steve,” he says finally.
“If you want to, I’d love to hear it,” Eddie says.
“It wasn’t because it was sort of close to my… old name. That was actually kind of a coincidence.” Steve lets his head fall back against Eddie’s shoulder, the tension that’s been wound through him for the last hour finally starting to ease. “Steven was my grandad’s name.”
“Yeah?” Eddie prompts softly.
“Yeah. My mom’s dad. I used to spend a lot of time over at his house when I was a kid. Before he died. I kind of got the feeling he liked me more than my parents did.” Eddie gives Steve a squeeze around the middle. “But he used to tell me all these stories about fighting in World War II. Probably not very age-appropriate, now that I think about it, but at the time I really ate it up.
“He didn’t really, like… glorify it, I don’t think? He just kind of told me what happened, good or bad, and whatever the story was, I always thought he sounded, y’know – strong and brave. And when I wanted to pick a new name…” Steve shrugs against Eddie. “I kind of hoped he wouldn’t mind sharing his with me.”
“Bet he’d be honored,” Eddie says, giving Steve another little squeeze.
“Some days I’m not so sure,” Steve says quietly.
“Well I am. I’ll just have to stick around and prove that to you, too,” Eddie says decisively.
Briefly, Steve’s hands tighten where they rest on Eddie’s arms. “I like the sound of that,” he says, and Eddie turns so he can press another kiss to the side of Steve’s head.
“Good,” he says. “Me too.”
358 notes · View notes
jojikawa · 4 months
Text
“Excuse me, Ma’am. Is this your son?”
You try bringing Sukuna with you for a day of daily errands but he only causes mischief because he craves your attention. Contains descriptions of gore.
tw// fluff, adult language, MC is Lilith! (a powerful demoness), lewd/suggestive themes.
masterlist
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Him 🩷
Sukuna’s eyes fluttered open. His eyes were burned by the rays of sun that came in, which sorta ruined the moment, but that was fine because he was in your bed. He was pleasantly surprised to see that Yuuji was still asleep, locked away in the back of his mind so he was able to get to the body first. When he looked down, he expected you to still be in his arms, pressed against his chest as his little spoon but you were…gone. Instead, he held a pillow that was vaguely your height and width. “What?” He muttered before pushing the poor body pillow to the side. What confused him even more was that he didn’t sense your energy at all…until he entered your living space. That’s where he found a demonic-looking bottomless pit in the middle of the room. It emitted a red aura; if he listened closely, he could hear the screams and cries of sinners.
He recognized this portal. Seeing it unlocked a memory from the past. You’d only ever use it when you wanted to speak to Lucifer about something. Man, he really hated that guy. If the two of you weren’t friends, he’d probably kill him too. Sukuna didn’t like the idea of you being so cozy with another guy. Even if it were Lucifer himself. (The two of you weren’t “cozy” at all. More like siblings in reality.) 
Sukuna backed away once the living room began to shake. Soon, a huge monster with no face and only arms climbed out of the hole. In one of its arms was you in its palm. It sat you on your couch before retreating back into the hole where it closed permanently.
You adjusted your hair before noticing your lover silently watching you. “Oh, good morning.” You whispered, now only inches away from him, placing a kiss on his cheek.
“Where’d you go?” He didn’t return your affection but it wasn’t something you took to heart. “There was a meeting.” You answered.
“So important you needed to abandon me for it?”
Your smile only intensified at his pouty expression. “I didn’t want to wake you. But don’t want to bore you with the details. I’m glad you’re awake now.” You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest. Your behavior made him melt. He already forgot he was upset with you! 
“I have a book club today so I’ll be gone. You should give Yuuji back his body now.” You looked up at him and saw that he was becoming gradually annoyed. Were you already trying to get rid of him? The nerve. 
“I’m comin’ with you.”
“It’s girls only.”
“I don’t care.”
He was such a handful.
The two of you arrived at your neighbor's house. All the girls were already there and you were the last to arrive. Sukuna couldn’t understand why you indulged the most in human pleasures. Book club? Really?
“I’m sorry I’m late!” You announced your arrival to the group of women seated around a dining table. They all have a book or two, ready to share. Their eyes seemed to be more focused on the man next to you. Sukuna.
“Um, (y/n), you didn’t tell us you were bringing your…” The brown-haired woman grimaced at the sight of the man beside you. He looked awfully scary.
You waved it off. “This is just my husband. I felt bad leaving him at home.” flashing her a smile, you made your way over to the table. Another chair was pulled up next to where you’d sit. 
“Husband?” Another woman repeated. You heard their whispers. “But he looks like he’s wearing a high school uniform.”
Your heart dropped. Sukuna never makes an effort to change his attire before coming to hang out with you. The last thing you wanted was for you, an elementary school teacher, to have rumors of you dating a high school student. 
“What’s wrong with what I got on, huh!?”
The woman visible began to tremble as your husband was intimidating the woman. He shoved his face into hers, using his height to remind her how small she was to him. He was acting like a high schooler!
“N-Nothing! I-I…” The middle-aged woman failed to form words and was almost on the verge of crying before you stepped in. With a fake smile on your face, you pushed Sukuna to the side. “Don’t mind him. He just has an affinity for…the old days. I get these clothes made for him as gifts.” You then elbowed Sukuna, causing him to cry out and curse to himself under his breath.
It helped a little, but the woman made sure to avoid Sukuna after that.
Unfortunately, for your husband, he needed to sit through your session of woman gossip about romance novels, Tumblr, Goodreads, and all the other bullshit he didn’t care about. He sat next to you with his head in his palm, looking at the things you’d have with you from time to time, zoning in and out of the conversation and not really contributing. He was barely even paying attention to the things that you were saying. 
Until you said something rather interesting.
“Oh, there’s this one book I’ve picked up recently that I wanted to share with you all!”
His ears perked up there.
You put a book on the table. The cover was of a woman with traditional clothing and behind her was an oversized demonic man. It was a…romance novel. But it was probably the dirtiest, smuttiest, and most degenerate thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Even the cover was like softcore porn…
He immediately pieced together that it was some form of a modern adaptation of you and him. 
“Oh my gosh, (y/n)! I didn’t think you’d read something so…so…exciting!”
You laughed. “I know! It’s by this young author and I can’t believe she nailed the ‘Beauty and the Beast’ concept so well.” Your face began to heat up at the implied romantic events that would transpire in the story. 
He wanted so badly to make fun of you but he didn’t want to embarrass you in front of your friends…
Actually, that's exactly what he wanted to do.
“Do you really read this slop about men who aren’t gonna fuck you? Men who aren’t even real.”
You didn’t react at first but your friends did. They gasped and jeered at Sukuna’s explicit language and insults.
“You wretch! What would a caveman like you know about literature? This is why we've restricted men like you from joining our club.” The Hostess bellowed as she stood, slamming her hands on the table. Who did she think she was?!
“Excuse me, but I am perfectly capable of yelling at my own husband, thank you.” You stood as well. Ryo was in the wrong but you’d never tolerate another life form raising their voice at him. “Perhaps, he’s right. Last time I checked, I’m the only one here who’s married.” You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at the woman. She had recently confided in the group about her divorce so you bringing it up as a jab was intolerable!!
The two of you were promptly kicked out and he was never allowed to be a guest ever again. Now, you were at the nearby supermarket, getting some food so that you could at least make something to feed the vessel he was in.
“I can’t believe you embarrassed me like that. Do you understand the amount of explaining I’m gonna have to do next time I go?” Like a disappointed mom, you paid no mind to the man behind you, occupying himself with the shopping cart. His cheek was somewhat red from that slap you just gave him as well.
“I was makin’ it interesting. That was probably the most eventful thing they’ve had all week.” His neutral expression turned into a smirk. “But to be honest, I think you got yourself kicked out.”
You had been comparing the prices of two different boxes of the same pasta when he said that. You seized your actions before whipping your head around to look at him. “What!? No, I didn’t.”
“You did. Yelling at that bitch was pretty hot!” Sukuna snickered to himself but he made sure he was quiet so that he wouldn’t earn another slap across the face. “It wasn’t hot and it was your fault for saying anything at all.” You rolled your eyes and placed the preferred box into the cart. Without a word, you moved down the aisle and Sukuna followed. You saw that a lot of the boxes were premade dust for homemade baked goods.
“Kuna!” You called him and smiled. You showed off the box of extra triple chocolate brownie mix. It was hardly noticeable but his cheeks turned pink from the nickname. Kuna, huh?
“Why do you assume I’ll eat that shit?”
“You liked hot cocoa. I think you might be a chocolate lover.” You hurried over to put it in the cart. You remembered that you needed sugar as well.
Hanging out with Gods must be boring. That’s how Sukuna felt. You’ve been alive for so long that you could probably rule the world but instead, you were at the supermarket. He watched you struggle to reach things on the high shelf. You couldn’t exactly use your powers or everyone would notice. It was really cute and he almost forgot that he was supposed to be helping you.
“Why is it on the very top shelf? How is anyone supposed to get this?” You mumbled to yourself, trying to figure out a non-embarrassing way of reaching the product…that was until you felt Ryo’s chest press against your back. He reached above you and effortlessly picked the container of sugar off of the shelf.
You couldn’t help but blush. You didn’t even know if he knew what he was really doing. But he did. Seeing you flustered at his actions was probably the most pure form of beauty he’s ever witnessed. Even if he didn’t know your origin, he could already tell that God handcrafted you to be gorgeous. Whether it be you’re angry, sad, or happy. 
“Thanks.” You whispered, a smile gracing your lips.
“Told ya your ass was small.”
And your smile fell. “Ugh, I can’t stand you.” You rolled your eyes before bringing your attention to the nearby boxes of cereal. “Hmph.” Sukuna’s cocky expression disappeared once you turned your back again. He was so bored in here. Couldn’t you shop any faster?
You could easily tell that your husband was getting restless. The metallic sound of the cart moving back and forth, the shifting of his weight causing the fabric of Yuuji’s jacket to brush against itself, and the huffing and puffing of the very man you had been talking to occurring ever so often.
“Why not go and pick out things you might want to try?” You chimed, silently putting more things you were interested in buying inside of the cart. Sukuna narrowed his eyes. “You just wanna get rid of me.” His sudden deep voice would have startled anyone, but not you. You shrugged. “Things would go faster if you were more involved in the process.”
Without another word, he left the cart behind to (maybe) listen to your advice. (he didn’t.) He thought that getting under your skin was much more entertaining because he sort of got a kick out of pushing your buttons. Nothing got him going more than a sexy woman who could kill him but hasn’t yet. So, he ended up causing mischief the only way he could.
Nearly 10 minutes went by. You lost sign of Sukuna after moving through different aisles and finding a handful of things you wanted. Now, you were at the bakery, talking to the woman at the counter about some freshly baked desserts you wanted to take home. That’s when an officer approached you.
“Excuse me, Ma’am, but is this your son…?”
You broke away from your previous conversation to see a huge man in a black uniform. He was holding Sukuna by his clothes.
“We caught him shoplifting.”
Sukuna’s signature grin was plastered on his face. This man was asking if he was your son??? The two of you looked nothing alike. That could only mean that he must have told this man that you were his…mom.
“Th-That’s my…” You were in the middle of taking a paper bag full of donuts from the counter woman. You averted your eyes from Sukuna’s face to avoid getting angry. “...my friend’s son.” 
“What?!” He blurted out. The Officer released him. “Well, Ma’am, we will be letting him off with a warning but if it occurs again, we will not take back any stolen items, but instead, you will pay for them.”
You bowed. “Understandable. I’m sorry for his actions. Unfortunately, he was not disciplined enough as a child.” You gave an awkward laugh. The Officer left and you finished getting your goods from the baker. The cart was pretty much full now. 
“What’s gotten into you?!” Your eyebrows furrowed at the man who couldn’t help but smile. Why was he picking on you today? Why was he being such a brat??? Before all of this, when the two of you were first together, he was so more mature than how he was acting now.
‘Because you’re paying attention to everything else and not to me.’ is what he wanted to say but, oh, he’d sound so needy and weak. Truth be told, he was somewhat jealous. Not only did you have your own friends and hobbies, but you were so much more used to modern life while he understood next to nothing. Plus, he didn’t have his own body and was only a fraction as powerful as he used to be. This was the perfect recipe for a boring life. 
You never got an answer from Sukuna but his eyes told you everything. Being around Adam taught you how to read men well. You ordered him to get you milk and eggs from the dairy section.
Waiting patiently near the check out, you noticed a particular man in the distance watching you. He looked young… perhaps his mid to late 20s? The stranger was somewhat attractive, sporting short blonde hair and looked similar to those singing boy band groups that girls loved to fawn over. 
Once you caught him staring, you flashed a smile, helping things seem less awkward.  The man smiled back before he began…making his way towards you. He reached your cart, making sure to stay out of the way of other passing customers.
“Oh, I’m not in line.” You pulled your cart to the side once you saw he had a handheld basket full of stuff.
“No worries, I wasn’t done anyways.” Chuckling, he locked eyes with you. They were full of wonder and joy. “I actually came here to speak to you.”
Your smile faded. Oh no…
“To me?” You repeated, tilting your head. It added to your ‘cute’ factor.
“Yes,” he replied. “I wanted to know if you were a m-model of some kind. I’d love to get a picture. You are the definition of beauty.” His cheeks turned a rosy pink at the sight of you. He fumbled with his jacket, trying to look for his phone.
You shook your head. “Oh, no, I don’t do either but I’m flattered that you think I do!” Suddenly, you had become aware of the clothes you chose to wear today and how you did your hair. “Although, I don’t mind if you’d take a photo.” You placed your hand on your cheek.
“Forgive me, then. I was wrong to make an assumption.”  The man flashed a charming smile. “I was just put off by finding someone like you in such a normal place like this.”
You couldn’t help but smile too. You rarely have a lot of good interactions with men. Especially these days with men hating women have become so normalized.
“I appreciate your compliments so much, but I’m married.” You laughed, prompting the man to give you a surprised look. “Oh, no! I wasn’t trying to come onto you or anything. I-It’s just that I’m a photographer, you see. I take photos of pretty people for my social media.”
“That’s so interesting.” You told him. He moved closer to you, attempting to show you one of his social media pages. Before you could take his phone, you noticed that he stopped moving.
When you looked at him, a splatter of blood coated your face and clothes. The body of the man imploded into a dozen cubes, falling into your cart and all over the floor. Women and children screamed at the sight before running for their lives.
You hadn’t even begun to process what just happened. Your eyes instinctively closed to protect themselves from the blood. Upon blinking, you saw that the man you had just been speaking to no longer had a head. His phone dropped to the ground before it reached your hands and his body soon followed with a shallow thud.
You didn’t even pretend to act afraid for the sake of not looking suspicious. Your eyes then found Sukuna. He was the only other person that didn’t run besides you. 
Oh, Ryo. Still as jealous as always.
His face looked mildly disappointed at the men who had fallen next to you. He didn’t even try to pretend like he had nothing to do with this. You frowned, realizing that you’d have to clean this up for the sake of Yuuji.
“You can’t kill every man who talks to me, ya know.” You sighed as a small cloth appeared in your hands. You used it to wipe the blood off of your face.
“You let him talk for too long.” Sukuna’s words were laced with venom. He despised people who were in your personal space…men most of all. Those without manners are unfit to live, in his eyes. 
The police would be arriving soon. Without a word, you dialed a number that no one else could reach.
“Yeah, hey. It’s me. Do you think you could pull a few strings for me to help a situation I’ve gotten myself into…? Sorry. I hate to be a bother…Well, the guy I’m seeing sort of…mortals got involved.”
This was the first and last time you were taking Sukuna ANYWHERE in public again.
216 notes · View notes
tender-rosiey · 1 year
Note
Can I request Gojo x reader where she is busy doing paperwork and missions ( she is a special grade sorcerer) and Gojo wants her attention
whining — gojo satoru x f!reader
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you had already finished all your missions for the day, and you finally have time for yourself. at least, that’s what you thought until yaga bestowed on you the paperwork that you had to fill after your recent missions.
with you being a special grade sorcerer like your husband, neither of you had a lot of free time and therefore couldn’t spend time together as much as you wanted.
unless, you get sent on a mission together which is rare, but it always fills gojo with happiness and he becomes so giddy whenever you’re paired up together.
it’s cute how head over heels he is for you, but it does have its disadvantage. like for example, right now, you were supposed to be doing said paperwork you were assigned. however, your husband came back early today which is good and honestly you would love to spend time together but oh well.
“WIFEY I AM HOME!” he bursts into your shared bedroom and finds you on your desk doing your paperwork. no matter what you do, his heart never fails to flutter to the point he can even giggle like a giddy school girl.
you chuckle softly and wave at him, “welcome back, satoru,” gojo, however, is not satisfied with just a wave and huffs his way to you.
“do I not get a welcome back kiss?” you can practically hear the pout in his voice, but you can’t give in to your husband’s antics right now. he hugs you from the back and you feel him bury his face into your shoulder.
“you will after I am done,” you tell him, but he shakes his head which makes you sigh, “‘toru, the earlier I am done with this, the earlier and more we can be together.”
“but I can just tell yaga to let someone else do your paperwork!”
“like?”
“ijich—“
“except ijichi.”
he deflates and starts whining, “he is my junior! he should help me!”
“‘toru, he isn’t obligated to,” you remind him; however, gojo isn’t giving up and starts placing small pecks on your shoulder.
“did I tell you how pretty you look today?” he has switched tactics, you notice. he is going to start sweet-talking you into leaving the paperwork and instead joining him on the bed for a much needed cuddle session.
it’s a tempting offer, but one of you had to be the responsible one and more often than not, it had to be you, “satoru, just go watch the tv and make sure to eat something ‘cause you’re probably hungry.”
“AWW WIFEY! YOU KNOW ME SO WELL!” he pulls back and screams fondly and you roll your eyes.
“of course I do, you’re my husband, silly.”
he, cutely unfortunately, latches onto you again and is basically spilling hearts from his eyes and radiating love, “hearing you say my husband makes me so happy.”
“well, my good and handsome husband will let his wife finish her paperwork so she can spend time with him later, right?” you say sweetly and even start scratching his scalp which is something he adores.
he hums softly and turns your chair so he can hug you properly. he buries his face in your stomach and you hear a small, “can I hug you like this for a moment then?”
you smile gently and continue running your fingers through his hair. a couple of moments pass and you speak up, voice barely above a whisper, “satoru, come on; I need to do the paperwork.”
you’re met with nothing and assume that the man actually fell asleep in that position. sighing, you softly call his name, “‘toru, if you’re going to sleep then sleep on the bed so your back doesn’t hurt.”
you shake him lightly and he raises his head to look you in the eye, “can you take my blindfold off?”
nodding, you gently take it off and you’re left staring at your husband’s eyes. the longing in them is so apparent that it makes your heart ache.
“okay, fine; I will go to bed,” he murmurs tiredly and stands up. you nod and turn back to your papers once you see that he is in bed.
you close the lights and only leave the lamp on your desk. time to prepare for long hours of boring and unbearable paperwork.
“HAHA GOTCHA!” you hear him say triumphantly and you are picked up rather effortlessly and thrown on the bed, somehow gently.
you groan from the impact, and when you tried to get up, he laid on top of you and squishing you in the process, “satoru!”
“cuddle now and do the paper work later!”
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koolades-world · 2 months
Text
One bed troupe w/ Mammon
There wasn't a boring day with Mammon around. As your self proclaimed first man, he ensured you went everywhere together. Because of this, he often dragged you along to gatherings with his friends.
When you first arrived in the Devildom, you didn’t get out very much. It was a pretty straight schedule: wake up, get walked to school by whoever's turn it was that day, do class, get walked home by someone else, do homework, go to sleep, then repeat. Once you got closer, Mammon realized how boring of a life you were living despite being in hell. He vowed to make your life more interesting and began showing you the fun side of life. He brought you to bars, restaurants, his favorite casino (of course), and so much more.
Today was no different. You were at a casino together with his friends early in the evening. You had grown closer with them at this point, and things weren't awkward when he had to leave for whatever reason. While nice, you began to learn the things Mammon hadn't told you that he told them. It was never anything bad, rather, it was usually cute things, such as how he really loved when you wore yellow or gold since he gushed to them every time you did.
Mammon had walked off to cash out his large bucket of tokens he'd earned for the third time that night, leaving you and his friends to chat.
"Tonight is a good night, huh?" You sip at your drink, lazily stirring it with the cute decorative pick that came with it.
"It is!" His friend states, shaking his own bucket.
"Mammon would say, it's cause of you." Another chuckles. You join in, amused.
"That's my Mammon. I'm happy to be a good luck charm, especially since he bought me my drink." You cause the group to laugh. The conversation begins to drift, but somehow makes its way back to Mammon
"You know, he's a little worried about you. Later tonight, one of Vazimid's friends is stopping by, but Mammon has been saying he hasn't liked the way he's been eyeing you." This statement worries you too. You know that despite growing comfortable, the Devildom is by no means safe. Mammon is protective, but it's rare that he'd admit it. Before you could respond, Mammon came back.
"Hey, Mc! I'm rich! Gotta say, I only do this good when yer around." He fixed his jacket, a smug grin on his face.
"Well, I wouldn't mind joining you every time you come here." You throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. The confidence melts away from his face as he begins to stutter, causing you to hug him tighter. The next few hours go well, until that friend arrived that nobody seemed to want there, which killed the mood. Mammon kept you close, but it eased him when you were by his side.
Later in the night, someone else in the group conveniently ended up winning several fancy room in the hotel the casino was in, free of charge. It was all a little too convenient. When Vazimid's friend asked who would be staying with who, Mammon immediately claimed a room for the both of you that nobody else was allowed in. After you teased him a little about it, a quick uncharacteristic glare to silence you. Not wanting to make him more upset, you remained quiet.
After collecting the room key, he drags you away from the friend group and onto the impossibly tall elevator. The ride up was quick, but neither of you spoke. Once you arrived at the room, Mammon unlocked it and promptly close it behind the both of you. You finally work up the courage to speak, but you’re not really sure what to say, or where to start.
“Mams? Is something wrong?” You put a hand on his arm and peer at his face. His expression is tight but softens once he sees the worry in you eyes.
“Nothin’ darlin’.” He smiled at you, but you can still tell something is bothering him.
“I know you. Tell me what’s wrong.” You placed your other hand on his other arm so you could pull him closer.
He hesitates at first, but eventually speaks. "Do ya really wanna know? It's dumb." He glanced at you.
"I do. Now tell me." You waited.
"It's that demon that Vazimid keep brining around. Don't trust him around you at all. I just know he wants to get his slimy hands on you." He sighed. You giggled a little at the realization.
"It's alright to be jealous, babe." Mammon back away from you instantly at the accusation.
"Hey, hey. That's not what I said!" His ears turned red, confirming what you thought.
"Whatever you say. Will sharing that bed with me quell your inner turmoil?" You began to giggle more as he came to the realization that he'd picked a room that only had one bed. 'It's free, Mams. You love free things." You scanned the room and saw a variety of goodies laying around the room you knew Mammon would scoop up once he was done being embarrassed.
You decided to leave him to his own devices and get settled in the room. You took a quick trip into the bathroom to find two sets of hotel branded pajamas that were suspiciously in the correct sizes. You showered with the nicest soaps you'd ever gotten your hands on and reappeared to find Mammon sitting on a chair, on his D.D.D.
"I'm done, knock yourself out." You throw yourself down onto the bed, face first.
"Took ya long enough." He skulked away and took his turn in the bathroom too. When he was done, and also emerged in the matching, branded set, he seemed less enthusiastic to get in the bed than you had been. Once he sat down, though, he realized how nice it actually was.
"Ya should've told me how soft these pillow were." He cuddled one of the pillows to his chest.
"If I didn't, maybe you wouldn't have at all and I could've had this entire bed to myself. Now, stop cuddling that pillow and cuddle me instead." You rolled yourself over to him and did grabby hands in his direction. He went red again, but listened. His hair was still a little damp from his shower and the jasmine scented hotel soap made him smell wonderful. He always ran very hot, which you enjoyed since he worked as a great personal heater. Once he had decompressed, you spoke a little bit about your plans for tomorrow, and eventually you drifted off.
Mammon remained awake for a little bit longer, thinking about the exciting evening the both of you had had. He was thankful that he had you, and even though he would never admit it, he had been jealous. He hated the idea of sharing you with some werido that he never invited in the first place. He hugged you a little tighter, and eventually feel asleep himself, thinking about you.
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steve-faglan · 4 months
Text
Breaking and Entering
Reader x Steve Raglan/ William Afton
TW: NON CON, NON CON, NON CON!!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: You and your best friend, Mike decide to break into the old Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Restaurant to get high and explore the relics of your youth. It's all well and good until you realize you're not the only ones in the building.
PART TWO: HERE❤️
William Afton was widely known to be involved in the disappearance of several children during the years that Freddy Fazbear's Pizza was open. Because of this, he's renamed himself Steve Raglan and taken on the role of career counselor to ensure a security guard for his life's work.
Not only smart but extremely well coordinated, William navigates the halls and secret passageways of Freddy's today just as swiftly as he did in the 80's.
You'd been to Freddy's back in its glory days. You've seen the animatronics in their prime and even witnessed the tall yellow rabbit mascot that used to walk around, though he creeped you out, so you always steered clear.
Lately, college has been taking a toll on your mental state, so you decide to indulge in some good old-fashioned nostalgia in the form of "innocently" breaking and entering at Freddy's. Mostly you're just looking for a place to smoke a joint and think about anything other than your major you wish you'd switched a year ago.
"Come on, you said you'd go with me. No one's ever there, it's been closed since the fucking 80s, man," you plead with your friend Mike to join you.
"The temp agency just tried to get me to work there!"
"So then there's no security, right?!" You drive a hard bargain or maybe Mike's extremely obvious feelings for you influence all his decisions.
"Alright. I'll be over in 10. I'm putting Abby to bed." He caves and you giggle in victory before hanging up. While waiting for Mike, you roll a few joints, grab your CD player, and slide a lighter into your front pocket. The minutes drag by until you hear Mike's piece of shit car pull into your driveway. You bolt out the door and climb into the vacant passenger seat.
Mike can't help but stare at you for a minute. You're easily the most beautiful person in this town as far as he's concerned, but he can't bring himself to make a move considering his ever-complicated home life.
"Thanks for doing this, dude. School is kicking my ass." You smile at your friend, and he quickly turns away, hoping the night is concealing the blush on his cheeks.
The drive to Freddy's is short and exciting. It's been years since you've seen this place. Mike pulls into the furthest, darkest corner of the parking lot and the two of you devise a plan of entry. At the very back of the building, there are two large loading dock doors. With both you and Mike using all your strength, you get it open just enough to crawl through.
"Jesus Christ, what did I let you talk me into?" Mike coughs away the dust.
"Come on, this way!" You drag him by the arm, the blood in his face rising just from your touch. Anyone with two eyes could see how Mike felt about you, except you.
You and Mike sit on the floor, right in front of the main stage. The four, old robotic humanoid animals still occupy their spots, holding their respective instruments or props. Time has been unkind to them.
You spark up one of the joints and pass it back and forth to Mike. You each share a headphone as you stare into the tall, decrepit ceiling of the restaurant.
"You think the bathrooms here still work?" Mike asks, breaking the peaceful silence.
"Surely they do if they wanted you to work here, right?" You ponder the question further. "Maybe check the ones in the office area." You point to a door that you recall from childhood that leads to the "boring" part of Freddy's. You ended up there by accident and swore you heard screaming, so you never went back.
Mike disappears in pursuit of a restroom, leaving you by yourself on the large, open party floor. You light another joint and stare quizzically at the robots. You become lost in thought thinking about how lonely it must be here, after all this time.
"You've been waiting for an audience, haven't you?" You tilt your head. Mike's taking longer than you anticipated, so you grab the other headphone and place it in your vacant ear. The volume is loud enough for you to imagine the animatronic band playing it. For a moment, everything around you melts away. You close your eyes, reliving a carefree time in your youth.
"Y/N!!!" Mike barrels down the hall. He's sprinting around every corner, tripping and stumbling the whole way in fear and adrenaline. "GET OUT!! GET OUTSIDE!!" He screams, but you can't hear him. You can't hear a thing. Just as he's about to make physical contact with you, he's yanked backward. The large, yellow rabbit that used to freak you out drags Mike behind the kitchen doors before bludgeoning him over the head, knocking him unconscious.
"I thought you couldn't do nights, Micheal?" The rabbit man binds Mike's wrists together and drags him through the same doors as before. He securely fastens his restraints to a support beam and stands. Already a tall man, he towers in the suit. William Afton.
William slowly turns his head, looking right at you. You sit with your back to him, on the far side of the room, closest to the stage. He takes two steps before you glance behind you, wondering where your friend is. Your breath hitches in your chest when you're met with a giant bowtied rabbit. You glance behind him to see Mike's motionless body on the floor. Time's moving too fast to tell if he's alive or not, and you scream again before taking off toward the door.
The rabbit man gestures to the stage and begins to slowly stalk toward you.
"Stay the fuck away from me! What did you do to Mike?"
"I'll do a lot worse if you don't stop fucking screaming!" William's voice is robotic and warped through the automated helmet of the suit. He's inhuman to you. Your mind can't wrap your head around the fact that anyone is in the suit, let alone William Afton himself. You try to silence your wails, but you can't do anything to stop the terrified sobs. All you can do is think about Mike.
"I-Is he dead?" You whimper, in a state of shock.
"Not yet," is all the rabbit says before he advances on you, grabbing you with unnatural strength. Your arms are pinned by your sides and he lifts you off the ground with ease. Kicking and fighting does nothing but bruise you up, but you try regardless. You manage to free one arm, and in your hysteria, you knock the mascot's helmet off his head. The helmet falls with a heavy thud, but it's as if it's muted in the background as you stare at William. He stares back, unfazed by his revealed identity. It almost looks like he's smiling.
"W-W-W-"
"William," he growls before placing his steel-covered hands around your throat while you were too distracted to notice he'd sat you back down. You claw at the lifeless metal and cloth, but slowly, your vision becomes blurry, and then... Nothing.
Mike wakes before you. He recovers quickly as he realizes where he is. He searches for you frantically, but you're nowhere to be found.
"Y/N!" Mike screams, but there's no reply. He's alone in silence for a few minutes before the unmasked rabbit man appears carrying your wilted body. Mike begins to panic. "What did you do to her?!"
"Calm down, Micheal. She's just tired. She's gonna need her energy." William grins, sending a wave of nausea through Mike's stomach. "You should feel lucky, you get to watch." He steps out of the robotic suit revealing clothes similar to the ones he wore when he first met Mike, not long ago.
"Watch what?" Mike raises a brow. William doesn't reply, he just starts cutting the clothes off of your body. "What are you doing?! Don't fucking touch her!"
William laughs at him, licking the entire length of his middle finger and sliding it inside you while he stares at Mike. He continues to play with you, rendering Mike into a livid mess. William shakes his head, amused, continuing with whatever dark plan he's already hatched for the evening.
You have no idea how much time has passed, but eventually, you wake up. You groan as you try to sit up, only to find that you're bound to a tabletop in an X formation with your legs hanging off the side where your knees bend. There's a raggedy drape of cloth over your body and the dry, musty smell is enough to make you sick. You scan the room in a quiet panic, unable to move and truly study your surroundings. Quickly you spot Mike. His left eye is swollen and will surely be blacked by the time you get out of here... If you get out of here.
"Mike!" You try to yell, but it comes out as a strained wheeze after the damage William did to your throat. Mike locks eyes with you and that's when you notice how scared he looks, but not for himself. You furrow your brow and look in the other direction. There stands William. He's out of the suit now, standing over you with a devilish grin.
"Breaking and entering isn't a good look for either of you," William chuckles. "But especially you, sweetheart." William places a soft hand on your cheek. You recoil in fear.
"Don't fucking touch her!" Mike thrashes in his restraints. It's clear to you that Mike knows what's about to happen before you do.
"Please, we're sorry. We won't say anything to anyone, just let us-"
"Don't be cliche. You knew what you were doing and you did it anyway. This is someone's stuff, you know? Someone's livelihood."
"I'm sorry," you sob.
"You're gonna be," William hits the joint he commandeered from you, and after a long drag, he flicks it to the side and begins to unfasten his belt.
"No! No, no!" You plead, arching and bucking your hips in hopes of loosening the cables that secure you to the tabletop. Mike causes his wrists to bleed, but he still can't get free. William strokes his erection as he watches your helpless body writhe under the sheet. You accept your fate, horrified and humiliated, you look away, facing the stage. You quickly notice it's empty and your heart begins to race.
"They won't be joining us. This is for my- our eyes only." William releases a deep, taunting laugh and starts pumping his middle finger in and out of you again.
"M-Mike..." You try to ask for help, unsure of what he could do for you at this point, but desperate to be free. He won't even look at you now. He's slouched over, looking at the floor, trying to drown out the sensual wet sounds coming from William's fingers scissoring inside you.
"He doesn't want to save you, sweetheart. He wants to see you get fucked against your will." With his last word, he heaves the entire table closer to him, giving Mike a front-row seat to the show. Panic consumes you. Before you have the chance to beg for mercy again, William tears the unkempt sheet from your body, leaving you entirely exposed.
"No! Wait, please!" Your fight or flight response kicks in, but you're helpless to do either. The cables strain against the table, but you're unable to move an inch. You look back at Mike. He meets your gaze and the two of you share a knowing look before you feel William slide the head of his cock up and down your clit, soaking it in the arousal your body had no choice but to pool between your legs after the ways he touched you.
"You make it hard to believe you don't want it when you're dripping like this, sweetheart," William taunts. You squeeze your eyes shut, embarrassed and afraid, unable to watch the blood rise in Mike's face as he watches you get defiled. Just as you're sure William is about to slam into you with no mercy, he pulls away. You open your eyes and glance at him in confusion, hoping he's realizing he can just let you both go and that would be the end of it. But that's not the case.
William bends to knees, placing your soaked entrance right at the perfect height for him to consume you.
"Let's see how difficult I can make this for you." William buries his tongue in your wet folds, flicking the muscle delicately over your violated clit. You try as hard as you can to fight back any kind of reaction, but you fail. A soft, breathy moan slips from your lips like a note from a music box. William laughs against your sensitive skin.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry." Mike hangs his head in defeat, listening to the sounds of you succumbing to William's sensual touch.
"What are you sorry for? She loves it," William smirks before curling a finger inside you, eliciting another explicit moan from you. He regains his standing position and replaces the head of his erection at your pulsating entrance, waiting. "I've needed this. You have no idea how stressful it is to keep a place like this under wraps."
All you can think about is how stress got you here. All you wanted was a smoke session with your best friend in a cool venue, and now, here you are. You're jarred from your thoughts when William's massive erection drives into you. It's abrupt and painful, but your body gushes with arousal to make up for the stinging, pleasurable friction.
"No!" You scream. Mike fights against his restraints one more time, thrashing and sliding his body in any direction he can, but he's stuck. William throws his head back in ecstasy as he plows into you. He's fucking you like he's eating his last meal. Breathless grunts of focused pleasure fall from his chest. His rough, calculated hands find your breasts, toying delicately with your nipples.
You close your eyes and try so hard to escape the reality of the situation, but William lands a hard, heavy smack across your face, shaking you back into the moment. With a stern hand, he grabs your face and forces you to look at Mike. He's red-faced, enraged, and tired. You can't decide if you want him to look at you or not.
Mike mouths an "I'm sorry" to you, but all you can do is stare at him while William picks up his pace. Your vision is unsteady as he jostles you around.
"You've gone quiet. I think I need to fix that." He draws his hips back and in a split second, your eyes widen in fear before he slams into you at full force. A loud, moaning wail emits from you and the humiliation finally tears your gaze away from your best friend. "There she is," William smirks, steadying his thrusts yet again.
"Please... Stop..." You moan between gasps. Your orgasm is building at break-neck speed. The last thing you want is to climax around William's invasive erection, but it seems as if you have no other choice. The hitching breaths in your chest become loud, sultry moans. Your mind is too frazzled to focus on withholding any signs of enjoying him. Tears stream down your face, but you admit to yourself that you don't want him to stop.
Mike looks away for a moment, but can't help but stare at you. Your eyes flutter shut and your back arches so intensely. He watches the 'O' shape your mouth takes and imagines those same lips wrapped around him. He has to shift uncomfortably, hoping to conceal his already obvious bulge. After you've ridden out your high on William's cock, he slowly slips out of you. Taunting you.
William knowingly reaches under the table and unfastens whatever link was holding each of your extremities. Your hands instinctively find your most delicate, used areas.
"Don't touch yourself unless I say so," he snaps, taking your wrist in one of his strong, demanding hands. His riddance of contact allows your mind to clear from the climax and you're suddenly afraid again. A notorious serial killer is making you his toy.
"Let her go, you've had your..." Mike searches for the words, but he's unsure how to describe the vulgar scene before him. "Just let her go, man." He looks exhausted.
"Don't talk yourself out of a good thing, Micheal," William chuckles before shoving you to the ground in front of Mike. You land with a thud, releasing an involuntary whine of pain when you hit the hard surface. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"No! I-" Mike attempts to protest, but William cuts him off.
"Oh, please. You're not fucking her. Probably never will. Now you get to get off on the idea that it's being taken from her."
"You're a fucking monster!" Mike thrashes against his binds, protectively snapping at William like a guard dog.
"You want me to let her go?" William squats beside the two of you. You lie fucked-out and terrified, curling up next to Mike for some sort of dignity. William grabs your hair and sharply yanks you toward him. You release a high-pitched squeal and allow him to guide your head to Mike's pants zipper.
"What are you doing?" Mike shuffles uncomfortably.
"Don't make me wait," Afton snaps at you and you quickly reach a shaking hand for Mike's pants button.
"What are you doing?! Stop, let her go!" He tries to shake your hands away, noticing the waves of tears falling down your face as you already piece together what William might make you do.
"Mike, I-" you're cut off by William shoving your face into Mike's newly exposed crotch. He diligently bobs your head for you, fist still wrapped in your hair. The second you make contact with Mike's cock, he releases a deep, sensual sigh. Small moans fall out of him left and right, nothing he can do to stop them.
"Tell her to stop, Mike." William waits, but Mike is silent. You squeeze your eyes shut as more tears well up. "Tell her to stop, and I'll let you both leave right now." Silence.
"Mike?" You beg, relieving yourself from the forced fellatio. Mike doesn't look at you, he can't. William smirks and shoves your face back to work. He makes good use of your throat as you take Mike as deep as his shaft can possibly go, ignoring any protest from you.
Mike begins to pant heavily. Little whimpers escape his mouth as his orgasm builds.
"F-Fuck," he huffs before finishing down your throat. When William finally pulls you away, you're a choking, sobbing mess. Betrayal doesn't properly describe what you're feeling right now.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry, I- I don't-" Mike fumbled over his words, red-faced and breathless.
"Shut up, now. You had your turn." William lifts you from the ground with ease and throws you against the same table as before. This time, you're bent over it, presenting your ass to him like a trophy to be won. To be taken.
"Please let me go home. I want to go home..." You sob with your face pressed to the large party table. Mike's eyebrows upturn as he watches you cry. Guilt consumes him, and the helplessness of your cries only amplifies that. He's not sure why he didn't tell you to stop, he knew it was the right thing to do. But he was so enveloped in the feeling of your lips bobbing up and down his erection, how could he ever ask for it to end?
"Shhh, you're doing fine, sweetheart." Afton coos in your ear as he leans over you. He's so tall, it's nothing to him. He plays with your pussy for a moment, slipping a long, nimble finger inside you. His eyes roll back in his head as he tests how tight you are in this position. "Perfect."
William slips inside you, fucking you as if he didn't just screw you senseless not long ago. His large, calloused hand comes down hard on your right ass cheek, and a loud slap echoes through the empty restaurant. You release a cry of pain every time he lands a blow, and he does it a lot. You're fucked out, beaten, bruised, abused- everything.
"Plea-" you beg, but another HARD smack to the ass shuts you up.
"Shut up! I'm so... Fucking..." William slams into you one final time before you feel his cock twitching inside you, filling you up. "Close..."
"No!" You try to kick and fight and do anything in your power to stop him from cumming inside you, but it's entirely too late. You sob loudly as Mike watches in horror. William removes himself from you and his handiwork spills from your swollen entrance. Your weak knees wobble under your weight.
Afton looks at Mike and grins deviously before flipping you over and clasping his powerful hands around your neck. The sound of Mike pleading for your life becomes a dull mumble in the background as you slowly lose consciousness. Once you're out, William readjusts his rolled-up sleeves and lands a hard, knock-out punch on the side of Mike's skull.
He dumps you both in the back alley, unsure if you're both alive or dead. He doesn't care, he just doesn't need you here anymore.
Mike wakes up first, placing a gentle hand on his face and wincing at the pain.
"Y/N? Y/N!" He scrambles over to you and takes you in his lap. You're still naked and you're covered in bruises and scrapes, a testament to how hard you fought and how strong William is. "Please wake up. Please wake up, dude. This isn't funny."
You don't move.
"Please wake up! Wake up, Y/N! Wake up!" He repeats over and over, shaking you and lightly tapping your face with his open hand. Finally, you suck in a big breath. The sound of you inhaling causes Mike to jump, but he quickly pulls you into his embrace, relieved to see you alive.
"Mike..." You groan. He quickly sheds his jacket and wraps it around your crumpled form, hoping to give you some sort of cover. The two of you get into Mike's car and head back to your house. The ride back is mostly silent until he finally speaks.
"Y/N, I- back there, I..." He doesn't know what to say.
"I don't think he would've let us go anyway." You stare out the window in a state of shock, secretly reliving the way William made you feel.
"No- that's not the point. I mean-" Mike struggled with his words yet again.
"Do you think he let us live for a reason?" You finally glance at Mike. It's the first time you've looked at him since he filled your throat with an entire friendship's worth of pent-up feelings.
"I don't know, but it doesn't matter. We're never going back there, I promise." He's attempting to comfort you, but something depraved and demented inside you is already thinking about what he'd do if he got his hands on you again.
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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 11 days
Note
Hii can you write Emily x fem!reader in a secret relationship but the team somehow catching them kissing and that's how they find out. Also there is a bet going on about them.
Are you kidding?
Summary: see the tumblr req above!
Word Count: 1.05k
Fluff
TW: kissing, getting caught kissing
Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader
A/N: I swear I haven't abandoned you guys I've just been caught up with school!!
Emily's pov:
It's been a slow day at work all day. Paperwork, consultations, paperwork, staring at my girlfriend; the cycle repeats. The team doesn't know where dating yet, we decided to wait to tell them.
She can clearly feel my gaze because she turns and looks at me and smiles, god her smile. I beam back at her and her eyes flick away from mine to the direction of our 'place' I gently nod and she puts up her hand to signal for me to wait 5 minutes before following her.
As she stalked off, her hips swinging slightly, I drag my eyes down to the file I'm currently looking over and pretend to focus on it. My mind is too full of her to think about anything else.
Reader pov:
I casually walk away from the bullpen with a random file in my hand, making a beeline to mine and em's 'place' (which is just a storage cupboard, albeit a very empty one. There's only printer paper in there) I look around and don't see anyone in the hallway so I slip into the small room and wait for Emily.
I hear the click of her heels on the floor as she approaches the door. The handle clicks and she slips in. Her feature lit up by the sliver of light that leaked in from the open door, her eyes shining with joy as she closes the door.
"Hey you." She says in a hushed tone as her arms find their wait around my waist and mine around her neck. She plants a delicate kiss on my lips.
"Hey," I reply with a bright smile on my face. "How's your day been?" My head fell onto her shoulder as I sunk into her embrace.
"Slow, boring. You know, the usual." I lightly chuckled at her answer.
"Yeah same, but uh. I know a way to make it a bit better." A smirk found its way onto my lips as she cupped my cheek.
"Oh yeah? Like what?"
"Why don't you kiss me and find out."
She smiled and crashed her lips onto mine. Our lips moved together with care and love. Her hands trailed down to my hips and pulled me closer to her, she slowly backed me up against the wall and deepened the kiss. Her tongue swiped over my lips asking for permission and I gladly granted it. Her tongue fought for dominance with mine, she obviously won instantly.
In the heat of the moment clearly neither of us heard the clacking of another set of heels on the floor coming towards the room. We were both pulled back to reality when we heard someone walk in the door and just as quickly shut it with a yelp.
Both of us pulled away, knowing it was Penelope, and made eye contact. Still holding each other close we burst into a fit of hushed laughter like a couple of teenagers who got caught making out at school. Oh wait...
She got out her phone and put the flash on so she could properly see me so she could fix my hair for me and make sure I don't look too flustered. I did the same for her and we walked out of the room one at a time and sat back in the bullpen.
Not even a minute after we had both sat down Garcia walks over to the round table and Hotch out of his office.
"We have a case." Hotch announces as he walks towards the room.
"Ugh, I was hoping to go home at a normal time today." JJ groans as we walk to the room, a grumble of agreement sounds from everyone as we all sit down.
Garcia sets down the tablets and Reid's paper report. Oh god Reid's still on paper, Pen was probably going to get paper for the printer from the storage room. We clearly all had the same thought at the same time because me and Emily made eye contact before glancing at Garcia, who was already flicking her eyes between the two of us.
"What have we got?" Spencer says, breaking the silence.
"Okay before I tell you, I have something else to tell you all." She speaks quickly, to avoid me and Emily protesting. "Y/n/n and em were making out in the storage cupboard! There I said it, sorry guys. I couldn't help it, you know me!"
The team all looks to me and Emily who are coincidently sitting next to each other, looking for confirmation.
We make eye contact again and she grins.
"Don't I swear to god Emily." I say fighting back a laugh yet again.
"Wait hang on, are you- were you?" Rossi asked. Voicing the confusion of the rest of the team. Emily responds before I can.
"Yeah, we were. Hotch, sorry, but it was a slow day can you blame us? We're dating, she's my girlfriend."
A look of knowing passed across the teams faces before Derek and JJ make eye contact.
"Okay guys c'mon," He says holding out his hand, Jay swiftly following. "Pay up."
"Are you kidding, did you make a bet on us dating?" I stare at them in amusement.
"Well yeah, you couldn't expect us not to." JJ shrugs.
"She's right you know, it was too obvious." Derek adds on as Hotch, Rossi, Spencer and Garcia hand money into their hands.
"You know Pen, I'm disappointed in you." She looks at me shocked. "I thought you were good at spotting these things?"
Everyone laughs and Garcia responds "You had me stumped sugar." I smile at her and then shift my focus to Emily. Her hand trails to my thigh and she squeezes it affectionately, I intertwine my hands with hers.
"Okay, back to the case." Hotch says and discussion about the current case ripples through the room once again.
Emily brings my hand up to her mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it and whispers a small "I love you." I smile at her and whisper back "I love you too."
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gavisfanta · 3 months
Note
heyyy, can you do one where pedri gives flowers to the reader?
thank you if answered 🫶🏻
Tumblr media
LOVE LANGUAGE - PEDRI
summary: pedri gives you roses
warnings: none, just fluff
a/n: school started again so I'm a bit busy but I'll try to publish more!
"Ay Pedri" Gavi yelled over to pedri who was just walking into the locker room to get changed.
"Yeah?" Pedri turned around abruptly as he looked at one of his bestfriends standing there, looking at him.
"You wanna get something to eat?" Gavi asked as Ferran also walked up to Gavi and wrapped his arms around his shoulders from behind.
"I'd be in too." Ferran said and Pedri opened the door and walked inside, Ferran and Gavi followed him just seconds later.
"I cant, I have to go home." Pedri answered while he took off his shirt.
"Oh right, he has to go home to his girlfriend." Ferran smiled a bit as he got undressed to go into the shower.
"You still haven't interduced us to her properly." Gavi noticed while also taking off his clothes and so did Pedri.
"We can go out and eat something tonight, I'll bring her too if you insist." Pedri rolled his eyes as a small grin made its wat to his face.
"Oh I do insist, I wanna know who made my hermano fall so hard for her." Gavi laughed while walking into the shower.
The three of them stayed a bit longer to play a bit more after practice.
The others had already left that also meant that they had to clean the shower, they didnt really had to but the team did it every single time to spare the cleaners some time.
After the three of them were done showering and got dressed they cleaned the shower, and then walked to the car.
"Can you give me a ride hermano?" Gavi asked as he put a hand on Pedris shoulder.
"Of course, of course." Pedri mumbled and laughed a bit, his friend still didnt have his drivers lisence.
That was the one thing that was known about Gavis and Pedris friendship, Pedri was the driver and Gavi was the passengers princess.
Gavi could easily order Taxis but that was one of the things he hated the most.
Not because he couldn't afford it but because he gave strangers his address, especially in Barcelona it was so annoying to him that he would sit in the back with his hood up begging that nobody would notice him through the window.
It was okay when it was Pedri because he was obviously used to it, but the taxi drivers were diffrent.
So Gavi stuck with Pedri as his driver.
Pedri didn't mind because when you didnt stuck with him, he was mostly bored while driving.
So now Gavi was sitting in your seat and scrolling on his phone. "How did you even meet her?" Gavi asked, interested in his bestfriends relationship he managed to hide from his teammates and the media for two months.
Pedri had told them a week ago that you two were officially together and they still wouldn't leave him alone, he wasn't mad about that, in the end he loved talking about you.
"She was my brothers friend." Pedri said and Gavi smiled a bit.
"Damn you broke the bro rule." Gavi laughed out loud.
Pedei just responded with a nod, he loved the way you two met, he still remembers every small detail of it and so did you.
3 months ago:
Tenerife was one of the most beautiful places on earth, you were convinced by that fact.
That proved itself as Fer and you were hanging out at your usual spot, Fer was sipping on a beer while you drank the Fanta in your hand.
"I never wanna leave this place." you whispered while looking at the beach in front of you, the water was calm.
"You might want to, Barcelona is even prettier." Fer said proudly, you knew exactly how he loved to brag about his Brother living in one of the most beautiful cities in spain, not only that but he also played at Barca.
You've never actually met Pedri before, everytime Pedri came home to visit his brother and his parents you left them alone. Knowing he didn't see them that often you wanted to give them some time together.
"I've never been to Barcelona before." You noticed. Fer chuckled a bit before sitting up straight.
"You could come with me, I'm going the day after tomorrow." Fer suggested and you made a face. "I know you've never met Pedri before but I'll interduce yoy and we're gonna go and watch the game." Fer explained.
You broke the eye contact and looked back at the water. "What if he won't like me?"
"He will like you, he has to like you because you are my bestfriend." Fer patted your shoulder as you nodded your head.
"Is he really that arrogant as other people say he is?" You asked ironically.
"Oh he definitely is." Fer laughed.
So soon it was time to go to Barcelona. You worked for Fers parents at their restaurant so Fer had convinced his parents to let you leave with him.
As soon as you were sitting on the plane you couldn't help but be anxious.
Pedri was very important to a lot of people, if he was like people described him, he was a complete shithole.
Three and a half hours later Fer and you arrived in Barcelona. Sooner than you knew you were infront of a very expensive looking white house.
"I'm so happy that you two will finally meet." Fer whispered to you before the door swung open and you came face to face with Pedri who wore a huge grin on his face.
"Pedri!" Fer went into a hug immediately. Pedri hugged him back and after Fer pulled away he looked at you again.
"Pedri this is my bestfriend Y/n, and I'm sure you know that this is Pedri." Fer at first turned to his brother and then to you.
As you met Pedris eyes for the first time, you expected everything but this.
He was smiling, the sun hit his face perfecy, his face looked perfect and you immediately got lost in his eyes.
"Nice to meet you," Pedri said shyly, he brought his hand closer to you, you shook his hand and looked up with a smile on your face.
You were almost surprised that you didn't hear confidence in his voice. "Nice to meet you too, I heard a lot about you."
"Good or bad things?" pedri smiled, that shy smile sent shivers down your spine.
"You wouldn't like the answer."
"Okay, well let's go inside." Fer said suddenly and then walked past Pedri, Pedri however needed two extra seconds to part his eyes from yours.
You and Fer went to watch his game the next day, it was a success l because Pedri scored.
After that game the three of you went out to party to Raphinhas house. But you were pretty bored because you didnt know anyone from there. So Pedri and you went into a McDonald's drive in.
That night, as you two were sitting in Pedris Mini, while eating the unhealthiest food on planet earth, Pedri looked into your eyes.
That was the moment he knew he had fallen in love with you, and he obviously knew that he was screwed.
The others met you as Fer's bestfriend, they looked at you as Fer's Bestfriend. But Pedri looked at you as the only girl that made him feel the things he felt at that moment.
He knew it was a bit early to say but he could already imagine having a family with you.
After it was time for you and Fer to go home Pedri begged you to stay, you didn't know at that moment why he wanted you to stay but you did.
Especially because Pedri convinced his parents to let you stay, and his brother too. He said that he wanted to show you the city. He paid for a way too expensive hotelroom for you and also paid for your flight back.
That gave the two of you 2 more weeks together.
One week before you had to go home you realized that you had feelings for him, you weren't sure if that was the case with Pedri too.
Pedri showed you every part of Barcelona, every part he could visit without getting recognized and possibly killed.
After an el clasico win at home Pedri stormed to you, you were waiting in the tunnel for him.
Pedri didn't know what was going through his mind, he just felt the adrenaline rush through his veins.
He received a lot of weird looks as he sprinted over to the tunnel. As you saw Pedri running toward you, you also didn't know what was happening.
Pedri was breathing heavily as he put his hand on your neck, caressing your jaw with his thumb. You looked at him shocked at the sudden movement. "Y/n, I know this is so so wrong, but I love you, I've loved you ever since that damn party.And- And I want you to stay here." Pedri was looking at you, his eyes sparkling while looking at you.
"I love you too." You breathed out with a smile on your face.
As soon as you said that a smile flashed up on his face immediately. In that moment he felt the adrenaline rush again and kissed you.
His soft lips on yours felt like heaven and his hands on your body felt even more like heaven.
Too bad that there were a lot of interviewers still on the field and in the background of live tv, you were seen kissing Pedri, well the other way around.
But that didn't matter as Fer flew back to Barcelona immediately.
He was fuming with anger as to why Pedri kissed his bestfriend. He liked that you amd Pedri were getting along but not this much.
In the end Pedri and you ended up together, Fer didn't agree to it at first but after about a month he accepted it.
Luckily he did.
"Thanks for the ride Pedri, see you tonight!" gavi yelled as he got out of the car and walked towards his door.
Pedri watched him walk off, he then drove off and went to the nearest store.
Meanwhile you were just waking up.
The sun was shining through the window, as the sun rays hit your exposed back you shivered.
The warmth coming from outside was really peaceful. You opened your eyes and immediately saw an empty space next to you in the bed. Pedri has already gone to training.
Somehow you managed to grab your phone from the nightstand and saw a message from your boyfriend.
"Good Morning Amor I didn't want to wake you up you were sleeping so peacefully. I'll be back as soon as i can. Te amo"
As your eyes ran across the words you smiled. Yesterday was your two months anniversary so it was a long day and also night.
You had fun, especially when you two went out to eat and then on a walk. Pedri bought you a really expensive ring and you bought him new cleats, not like he didnt had enough.
Of course Pedri got mad at you at first when he saw the expensive cleats standing in the garage but you managed to calm him down and at the end he was pretty happy about it.
You decided to stand up from the bed and be a bit productive. Walking over to his closet you chose one of his springfield shirts and pulled it over your head.
While walking down the stairs you tied your hair together into a ponytail and then went to make some breakfast for yourself.
You decided on some fried egg with bread. May seem boring but it was one of your favorite dishes.
So after you ate you put everything away again and went to watch tv. The time flew by quickly and then soon you heard the door unlock. You smiled as you stood up and waited for Pedri to get inside.
Seconds later you saw Pedri walk inside with a huge smile and a bouquet of red roses in his hand.
"Hey baby." he smiled while he looked at you. You walked over to him and pulled him into a hug straight away.
"Hello" You smiled as you put your head on his chest.
Pedri exhaled deeply as he kissed the top of your head. After you pulled away he handed you the roses he still held in his hand.
"I brought this for you." Pedri smiled widely and then you took the roses from his hand and kissed him passionately.
"Thank you so much, but what for?" You asked, looking at the red rose bouquet in your hand before looking back up at his eyes.
Pedri chuckled as he looked down at you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as he walked next to you.
"Just to tell you that I love you." He told you and kissed your cheek.
Pedri had planned to bring you roses every day after you two started dating. Sadly that wasn't possible because he was often too tired to go to a store after practice.
He made sure to bring you roses afterwards he went home from every away game.
You were convinced that one of Pedri's love languages was giving you things.
But you didn't mind at all, in the end. You still loved him like he was the only thing on earth.
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