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#he keeps taking off his mask in class
agrebel18 · 3 months
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some guy winked at me during one of my classes yesterday and now i'm studying him like a scientist studies cells under a microscope
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fairy-angel222 · 2 months
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𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.
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pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader
cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching
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Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.
From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.
When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.
You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.
At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.
It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.
Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.
You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.
Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”
Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.
The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”
You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”
Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”
You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”
Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”
You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.
Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.
You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.
Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.
And it was unbearable.
Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.
It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.
You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”
His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.
“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“
You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”
“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”
Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”
You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”
Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.
Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.
You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”
“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”
You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”
Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”
You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”
You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.
“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.
“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”
“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.
“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”
You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”
“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.
Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.
“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.
“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”
Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.
It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.
Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.
“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”
You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.
A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.
He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”
You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.
Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.
The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.
He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.
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evilminji · 5 months
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You know how... world leaders can't just? SAY stuff? Because when they DO it's the Offical Stance(tm) of their Country?
That makes their Fuck Ups(tm) all the more serious. It's WHY they have press teams.
But!!!
WHAT IF?
They said something, PUBLICLY, on LIVE TELEVISION, that? Can not be taken back? Full on "masks off, behold the horrors you have payed for" moment?
Sure, they could SAY "that wasn't me" and "I was brainwashed" etc etc. But? If it's BIG enough? UGLY enough? TRUE??? People WILL find it. Dig and dig and dig like termites in the walls. Hunt like bloodhounds.
Riot in the streets.
Because? All it would TAKE? Is ONE half ghost, a few too many long nights trying to balance college classes and his internship, a bigotry filled call from back home, and staring down that empty fridge with just one box of moldering take out, because he's been too busy and stressed to remember to get GROCERIES AND-
Ah.
So this is what "so stressed you feel calm, I have run out of Fucks too give" feels like. Neat. *picks up phone* Hey, Sam? You still at that protest? Outside the presidential speech? Neat. Don't move.
One Phone Line Express later. SAM is telling him to breathe. Maybe... maybe calm down. Think about this. Others around her can see the same "spark of madness" glint in his almost zen like smile.
It Fiiiiine, Sam.
He's just here to Talk.
He disappears. Sam's freaking out. President stumbles but catches himself on the way to the mike. Up in the watch tower, various Magic users choke on their lunches, because a ghost just possessed the United States President.
ON LIVE TELEVISION.
He taps the Mike, smile, leans in real close like he's gonna Tell You Folks A Secret.... Aaaaand~
"The second you Die, you no longer have human rights. Doesn't matter how brief. Heart stops? You're sub-human scum! Non-sentient by American law. We here in the United Stares PROUDLY desecrate the bodies and graves of the dead. Tear apart the immortal souls of the innocent. And condemn you to oblivion crying, begging, and screaming for mercy! Why, obviously, is an act. Because souls don't have the RIGHT to feel fear or pain!
And YES. We do mean EVERYONE'S. Atlantian, Kryptonian, Martian. Canadian, Mexican, Russian, AND Chinese! I could keep going! Once you die? You belong to the United States to experiment on as we see fit! You're PROPERT now! So turn your nonrights having, nonsentient self in to the nearest GIW! For the good of AMERICA. Ectoplasmic Scum!"
*drops mic*
Jaws are on the floor. This was VETERANS DAY. Dead military Heros and smile for the cameras. A cake walk. Do a patriotism, rah rah. There.... there are DIPLOMATS in the crowd. Sure as SHIT, were more then a few foreign nationals WATCHING. Religious leaders looking on in fury, grief, and horror.
Reporters. Oh sweet Jesus the reporters.
The press secretary faints.
PANDEMONIUM. The president, still dazed and confused from being possessed, gets PUNCHED on live television be his VP, a deeply religious if moderately shady man. Take bribes? VP is cool with that. Bootstraps, peasants, and all that. But how DARE you fuck with the Souls of the dead. How DARE you!
Phones are blowing up, questions are being shouted, the JLA Dark FEEL like they should tell somebody about the ghost kid... but also this feels VERY "Call for help-y" so they might throw their weight around instead and pretend they know nothing. World leader are meaningfully staring at their Dear Beloved Dead Grandmother's photos as they send LIVID assistants to hound the American into answering the DAMN PHONE-!
And Danny?
Danny feels calmer now. He has stolen like....700 bucks from secret security's various wallets. He's going to buy himself BOUGIE groceries. Some...some NICE take out. Maybe a little cake. Yeah~ Cake for Danny~
If anyone needs him? No you don't. He needs to go do some shopping, eat, lie on the floor of his shower and just... vibe for a bit under the spray. In the dark maybe. Sleep for a week. Have his food. Yummy little treats.
Or he's gonna fuckin LOSE IT, man.
(Tucker is actively hacking his college schedule as they speak. He KNEW it. Called it! Too many classes! But does Mr "I can handle it" listen? Noooooooo! Now look what happened! Holy SHIT, Danny!)
@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
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charliemwrites · 15 days
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There are men across the street.
The house (and you use the term generously) that slumps there has been vacant for some time now. Ever since you moved in a couple years ago, actually. It’s an eyesore for sure. Graffiti on the walls, boards on the windows, a basketball-sized hole in the roof. The porch is the worst of it. Sagging in the middle and crumbling on the ends, stripped and moss-encrusted wood.
But today there are men there, stomping up and down the groaning steps in big, steel-toed boots.
You watch for a bit from the safety of your kitchen window, sipping coffee and batting your cat off the counter. They don’t look like a normal construction crew - wearing all black and not so much as a hammer on their belts. Three of them that you can see, one about average height, one tall, and one very tall. The tall one tags after the shortest of them often, gets pushed and shoved and snapped at it seems like.
You lose interest when the coffee runs out and your phone chimes, shooing you off to the grocery store. All three have disappeared inside by the time you saunter out, keys jingling and reusable bags in hand.
Margot says they’re renovating - likely some rich man’s retirement project. The same thing happened just down the street six months before you moved in, and now Joe has solar panels.
She postulates over the situation across the street while taking delicate bites of the cheesecake she brought over. (A test recipe for her niece’s baby shower in a few weeks. You don’t tell her that it’s too sweet and just sip your tea between bites.) She hypothesizes that one of them is this hypothetical rich man’s son, bringing some handy friends around for extra hands to work.
It sounds about as plausible as Agatha’s mutterings that they’re drug lords, so you nod along and watch your calico sneak up on your tuxedo behind her.
The garden is your own little retirement project. (You’re not actually retired, no matter what your sister snipes. But some smart money moves and a successful writing career is virtually the same with no kids and no spouse.) It’s going about as well as the renovations across the street - which is say, better and quicker than expected.
You planted clover in the yard, and are working on wildflowers in the boxes. The clover is already blooming, little flower tufts springing up for bumblebees to perch on. The wildflowers are mixed success so far, but nothing is dead yet.
You mostly just tootle around to be outside - allotted sunshine lest you become the shut in Bertram accused you of your first couple months.
The cats watch you pick at weeds from the window. Or two of them do. The other one is glaring from the fridge, angry that you tossed her back inside when she tried to slip past your ankles. (With any luck, you’ll have another sibling for them soon, but the handsome orange thing that keeps coming by at dawn and dusk is too stupid to be caught.) All three of them shift to look at something over your shoulder.
“Excuse.”
You don’t startle, thankfully. The voice may be unfamiliar, but neighbors stop by consistently enough that you’re not surprised to have your solitude interrupted.
What you are surprised by is the tall (very, very tall) man standing at the edge of your front yard. One of the renovators.
“Hi,” you say, straightening.
He points a gloved finger at you - no, not at you. Past you. At your cats.
“May I see them?” He asks in a thick German accent.
You blink, surprised and confused.
He’s a big man. Not just unusually tall, but broad as well. Muscle tugs at the fabric of his shirt, cargo pants clinging to his thighs. He also hasn’t bothered to take off the heavy duty dust mask, black sunglasses, or jacket hood obscuring his features. Looks like he’s about to rob you, honestly.
But Agatha’s uncharitable muttering about delinquent men rings like a warning toll. You’re at risk of sinking into the judgmental sea of upper-middle class suburbia, and that’s not water you want to tread.
“Sure!” You reply, ignoring his lack of introduction. “One sec.”
The cats see you dart from view and hurry to meet you at the door, meowing and yowling. You crack it open only wide enough to snatch up your precious firstborn, his leggies sticking out in abject bafflement at being airborne. You make guilty eye contact with your other two fiends before swiftly wedging the door shut again.
Then adjust your son, his little paws resting on your shoulder as you turn. Your visitor is standing right where you left him, perks up when he sees the cat bundled in your arms.
“This is Guy.”
You step closer, ignoring that shred of nervousness that being close to any man (especially one so physically intimidating) brings. To his credit, he only shuffles just enough to offer his hand for inspection.
“Guy?” he asks.
“I wasn’t going to adopt him at first, so I just called him Little Guy for so long that he thought that was his name. And then I did adopt him and now he won’t answer to anything else.”
You come by the rambling honestly - an obligate introvert until you moved to this neighborhood. There are few things you ever want to talk about with strangers, but your cats are one of them.
“He is a little guy,” the man muses.
Guy has no reservations about rubbing his fat face on the stranger’s glove, a purr kicking up in his chest. You relax as the man keeps his touch gentle and slow, that little bit of paranoid tension trickling into the soil beneath your feet.
“The other two aren’t as well behaved, I don’t trust them without harnesses on,” you add, nodding at the window.
The man glances up at them. Doesn’t seem to realize that his demise (and yours) is imminent from their glares.
“What are their names?”
You flush. “Rasputin and Shithead. I tell everyone else her name is Susan though.”
A sharp bark of laughter splits the air like a falling ax, cracks right down the middle. It makes you jump a bit - Guy is expectedly unbothered - but still you find yourself gratified. Laughing is good, it means you’re doing things right.
“Sorry,” he says, “but my friend would like that name.”
You gesture at the house across the street. “One of them?”
“Yes, the short one.”
You only just manage not to snort in amusement, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing. The mask moves, you think he might be grinning underneath.
“Does he know you call him that?”
“Not if you don’t tell him.”
You doubt you’ll have the opportunity even if you wanted to.
Someone’s at the door.
You’re only half-dressed, waist deep in laundry you have no excuse for putting off so long. Aren’t expecting company either - it’s Sunday morning, everyone should be at their various churches or visiting relatives. Can’t remember the last time someone knocked before noon on a Sunday.
Still, it was a big solid knock. The kind that makes you think it’s not the usual neighbor come by to impose on your space.
You glance down at the hem of your sweatshirt, determine it’s far enough down your thighs to be acceptable, and pad to the door.
You open it to another of the renovators. The “short” one - though you readjust that measurement quickly. He’s still taller than you, it’s just that most anyone seems diminutive compared to his friend.
“Morning,” you chime.
“We need your driveway.” His voice is low and rough, blunt. A sledgehammer to concrete. Also German-accented, you note.
“Oh,” you reply, “what for?”
He grunts. “Work.”
And you, a longtime observer of politely shaking people down for information by this point, smile without teeth.
“Oh, a work truck? It won’t make a mess will it?”
“No.”
You hum, glance at your stupid little sedan parked in the middle of the driveway.
“Okay, I’ll move — Shithead!”
You scramble to grab at the black and white blur of evil, sweeping her up in your arms as she meows in complaint. One of her back feet catches in the hem of your sweatshirt and starts to pull it up as she kicks. You curl an arm under her butt for support, but mostly she just takes the opportunity to chomp down on the meat of your thumb.
You glance at the man. “Shithead is very interested in the renovations.”
He stares. “So that is actually its name. I thought you were being rude and Konig didn’t realize.”
Ah, so that’s his name. You never did get that introduction.
“No, yeah, this is Shithead, I’m sure you can see why.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as she unlatches from your thumb, only to bite down on your wrist.
“So! The truck - when will it be here?”
“Noon.”
“Great! See you around!” You shut the door in his face without getting a name.
You threaten, not for the first time, to turn her into a pair of mittens. She responds by attacking your foot until Rasputin tackles her. Guy cries at the door, probably missing a man he met for all of two minutes.
The work truck stays through the night. Your cats spend all afternoon watching the men cross the street and back. Every once in a while, Guy puts his little feet up on the glass - Konig must be passing by.
You glance out the kitchen window only once and make hard eye contact with the third of their trio. He’s somehow even more covered up than Konig, and yet you get the distinct impression that your gaze is not welcome.
You blink and abandon the dishes for later.
The next morning, they’re already at it when you shuffle outside for the mail. Konig raises a slow hand in greeting, but visibly brightens when you smile sleepily and wave back.
You pass the work truck - the back panel is already open for them to unload wood beams and heavy-looking buckets. Construction stuff, as expected - and not messy, as promised.
You spot a red and white flag decal on the rear window. Austria, isn’t it?
“Did you just wake up?” a flat voice asks.
You squint a little through the morning sun at the man from the day before. The rude one.
You yawn. “Mhmm.”
He frowns at you, disapproval plain. Agatha will like him, you muse, shoving a hand in your mailbox. They both seem to have strong opinions about your sleep schedule.
“It is late.”
“It’s only 8.” You tug out a sheaf of envelopes and begin idly flipping through them.
“The sun is up.”
“So what?”
He clicks his tongue disdainfully. You absently click back. Then jump as a big body lands right in front of you. The third man, two wooden beams balanced on his shoulder. He makes brief eye contact with you again, then strides across the street.
“Shoo,” the rude one says. “Men at work, yes?”
You grumble. “See if I bring you cookies.”
Konig glances up from the truck bed, eyes shining. “Cookies?”
Well shit.
Rasputin keeps you company while you cook. He’s the only one allowed on the counter for any length of time. Shithead steals anything and everything, or bats at your hands while you work. Guy has the equal parts endearing and infuriating habit of touching everything with his paws.
Rasputin is the only one who will sit quietly to observe, leaning in for the occasional kiss. Today, he’s watching you bake cookies and assemble sandwiches. A dual-purpose welcome and peace offering to the three men across the street.
Is it too much? Maybe. But you’ve got nothing better to do and kindness won’t break your bank, so. Cookies and sandwiches.
You change clothes while the cookies cool on the pan - a sundress for the warm, late-spring weather. They’ve seen you in your pajamas far too much already.
At the door, you hesitate. This house doesn’t feel inhabited yet, but it also doesn’t feel right to just open the door. It’s quiet inside, so no power tools to drown you out. Making a face, you settle for a firm knock. It takes a minute or two - you think you might hear distant shouting. Then the door swings in fast and hard, nearly startling you.
It’s the third of their trio, the one you’ve yet to speak to. He’s covered head to toe, fabric around his head and face, leaving only sharp blue eyes to glare out.
“Hi,” you begin, hands thankfully too full to fidget. “I brought food.”
His eyes flick to the foil-covered platter in your hands. Then he swings the door wide and pivots on his heel.
“The cat comes too.”
Cat?
You glance down. Sure enough, Rasputin is standing by your legs, his remaining half a tail swishing. You sputter at him - didn’t even realize he snuck out - but all you get is his characteristic raspy “mah” noise. Right then.
He politely trots by your side as you enter, not even shy about your curiosity. The place is gutted, stripped walls and scuffed floors. It smells like dust and plaster and shaved wood. All the lights have been ripped out of the ceiling, exposing wires like nerve-endings.
There are two empty rooms to either side upon entry, a den and a dining room probably. The den even seems to be split into two, with one half sunk lower, accessible by a couple steps.
You follow your unexpected host through the “dining room,” which seems to be more of a satellite staging zone at the moment. There are piles of tools, stacks of materials, a little island of canvas bags. As you pass through, you notice a staircase, and even from the ground floor, you can see that it crosses over to the den on the other side.
The kitchen is stationed towards the back of the house. You try not to wince at the state of the counters. Pockmarked, blistered, scratched, burned, cracked laminate.
The floor has already been pried up to reveal smooth concrete. You scan it quickly for anything that could hurt Rasputin’s feet before entering.
Your neighbor gestures for you to set the platter down on an empty patch of counter, so you do, peeling back the foil.
“Cookies and sandwiches,” you explain just to have something to say.
“Why?” he asks.
You shrug. “To be nice.”
He stares. You blink back.
“I mean, you don’t have to eat them,” you add. “It would just be a waste.”
Rasputin chooses that moment to leap onto the counter, taking a moment to steady himself once he’s landed. With only one eye and a crooked leg, he’s not the most acrobatic or graceful of your babies, but he makes do.
To your shock, though, once he’s gained his bearings, he makes like he’s going to eat one of the sandwiches.
“Ras,” you gasp, surprised. “Absolutely not!”
The little shit doesn’t even resist when you nudge him away, just settles on his haunches, staring at your neighbor. And, to your confusion, your neighbor grunts.
“Konig! Krueger!” he barks.
That must be the rude one’s name. Krueger. You file that tidbit away.
“What’s your name?” You ask. “No one’s told me.”
He eyes you - dare you say suspiciously - letting the silence stretch.
“Nikto,” he rasps finally.
You finish introducing yourself just as the other two enter. Konig’s down to just the dust mask today, while Krueger seems to have donned one for himself.
“You,” Krueger says.
You arch your eyebrows back. “Me.”
“What brings you here?” Konig interjects, much friendlier.
“Well, you really seemed to want cookies yesterday, so I thought I’d bring some with lunch as a welcome to the neighborhood.”
He practically shoves Krueger to get to the kitchen. You politely get out of the way so he can indulge in your offering without getting trampled.
“Danke schön,” he says, scooping up a sandwich.
“No problem,” you answer, smiling.
Krueger deigns to sidle closer, inspecting the platter with a keen eye. Still, you think you see a bit of appreciation in them before he snatches up one of the sandwiches. For some (concerning) reason, you’re gratified by that. (You’ll just blame it on your habit of feeding ferals and strays.)
“I also wanted to give you three a little warning…” Three pairs of eyes pin you in place. You try not to grimace. “Everyone on this block is nosy as hell. They will literally peak in your yard and check your mail.”
“The mail?” Konig asks, appalled.
“Yeah, I started using a PO Box,” you sigh. You’ve only got so much sanity before you start taking sniper shots with a water gun.
“We will handle it,” Krueger says.
“I’m sure,” you demure. “Anyway, that was all. You can drop the platter off later - or I can come get it. It’s not like you’re far.”
You start looking for Rasputin, only to find him perched on Nikto’s broad shoulder. The man doesn’t even seem bothered by the claws digging through his shirt, scratching a finger at the calico’s cheek.
“Huh,” you say, surprised.
Nikto glances at you, pauses. “What?”
You snort at the bluntness, but grin. “Usually I’m the only one allowed to pet him.”
That’s three for three. Well, two and a half. Shithead could have been trying or escape or go for the ankles for all you know. But Krueger seemed to like her, so that counts for something.
“C’mon my little tank, let’s go,” you coo, approaching.
Rasputin nuzzles his face against Nikto’s once, gives him a parting mraw, then leaps into your waiting arms.
“Bye, guys!” You call, waving over your shoulder as you head for the door.
Konig is the only one to respond with a polite, “see you!” But you don’t take it to heart.
1K notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 22 days
Text
Just to Learn That You Never Cared
Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Synopsis: always leaving class together to go fight crime leads people to think you’re dating when in reality you’re barely even friends. That is, until you agree to fake a relationship to keep your secret life a secret
requested/idea by @usoppsstar
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“Oh, hey. Your girlfriend left this in class.” One of Peter’s classmates said as he tossed Peter a hoodie.
“Oh. Thanks.” Peter said before realizing what the person had said. He turned the hoodie over in his hands and recognized it as yours. His face warmed up in a blush when he realized you had just been mistaken for his girlfriend. He shoved the hoodie into his bag and wondered if he should tell you or not.
Peter saw you later that night on a rooftop you frequented often. You were in your suit, as was he, but had your mask sitting beside you. You were munching on a bag of chips and wordlessly extended them to him when he landed on the rooftop beside you. He smiled graciously and took a few before sitting down next to you. Your knees were touching but neither of you moved away.
“You left this in physics, dingus.” Peter said and handed you your hoodie.
“Oh, thanks. We had to run out of there so fast to save that lady. I must’ve left it behind.” You smiled gratefully and pulled it over your head. Peter felt bad that his high tech suit had built in heaters and your homemade suit was probably leaving you freezing every night. He wanted to suggest sharing his warmth, but he didn’t want to overstep.
“I know. Thank God she called the police on those kids for selling lemonade without a permit. I’m really glad we left a test to go witness that heinous crime.”
“It’s not all bad. We did get to see the cops arrest her for wasting their time by making a fake police report, which is always satisfying. And the kids gave us free lemonade. But I think calling it “homemade” was bullshit. I know Minute Maid when I taste it.” You replied, making Peter chuckle.
“You’re right. Both those things were enjoyable.” Peter agreed. “But I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I feel like we have to leave class every other day.”
“I know. Why did we have to pick a college in such a Karen ridden neighborhood?” You sighed.
“Because we wanted to go to the good school with the good science program. We should’ve known the neighborhood would be full of bored housewives who call the police whenever they have a minor complaint. It was our own hubris.”
“It was.” You chuckled and said looked over at him. You exchanged soft smiles before you looked over at the city horizon. Peters eyes never left you and he cleared his throat to get your attention.
“So, uh, my aunt and I were gonna get Chinese food later. At the place that got shut down for being a front for money laundering but that was really just a front for a second Chinese food chain.”
“Oh, I love that place.”
“Yeah. It’s great.” He nodded. “Anyways, you should totally come-“
Peter was cut off by the police radio he wired to his phone going off. He rolled his eyes and checked what the alert was.
“Damn it. Robbery at the bakery on 9th.” He told you.
“Lowkey, I’d do the same. Their cream puffs made me cream.” You said as you put your mask back on.
“Haha, yeah.” Peter chuckled. “Wait, what?”
“You should get some sleep. I’ll handle the robbery. But I’ll catch you tomorrow, Parker. Get home safe.” You saluted him before falling backwards off the building.
“I love you too.” Peter sighed.
“Did you say something?” You asked and popped back up.
“No.” Peter quickly lied.
“Okay. Well, see you tomorrow.” You waved to him and disappeared again. Peter let out another sigh before swinging home.
The next day, you ran after one of your classmates once class was let out.
“Hey, Carly. I emailed you my notes from the class you missed.” You told her.
“Thank you so much. You’re a life saver.” She replied. “Oh, and could you tell your boyfriend that band practice is in the gym today?”
“Yeah, sure. No problem.” You agreed. She was about to walk away when you realized what she had said.
“Wait, what am I saying?” You wondered. “Who’s my boyfriend?”
“You know. That guy with the prescription shoes.” Carly answered. You tilted your head in confusion until you realized you knew exactly who she was talking about.
“Wait, Peter?” You laughed in surprise. You expected her to laugh too and reveal she was just kidding but she looked completely serious.
“Oh, right. Peter. Why do I always think his name is Timmy?” Carly wondered.
“Because he looks like a Timmy. He gets it all the time.” You waved your hand. “And his shoes are not prescription. He just bought women’s platform shoes because he wanted to be taller and didn’t think anyone could tell.”
“We can.” Carly mumbled.
“I know.” You agreed. “But, I’m getting off topic. Timmy is not my boyfriend. I mean, Peter is not my boyfriend.”
“Whatever label you guys use, can you tell him that wind ensemble is meeting in the gym instead of the choir room? The sopranos kicked us out again to practice or do drugs or something.” Carly explained. You furrowed your eyebrows at her and tried to figure out if she was joking or not.
“The label? I’m so lost. Who told you that Peter’s my boyfriend?”
“Nobody told me.” She shrugged. “Everyone just knows that you guys are a couple.”
“Well how would they know something that isn’t true?” You asked and folded your arms.
“I mean, it’s not like you guys try to keep it a secret. Between all the whispering and staying close by each other. Plus you’re always sneaking out of class together or showing up late. And if one of you is absent, the other always is too. It’s been like that since high school. People just put two and two together I guess. Why, did you want to to be secret?”
“I didn’t want it to be anything. We’re not even dating.” You insisted and felt like you were going crazy.
“You don’t have to deny it.” Carly laughed. “I know feelings are weird and gross and stuff and you’ve never been the relationship type, but I think this guy is good for you. He brings something out in you. I don’t know. But you guys are cute. I love seeing the nice loser and assertive pretty girl troupe in real life.”
“Oh. Well, thank you.” You calmed down momentarily and smiled a little. Carly walked away and your smile quickly faded when you remembered what she had said. You looked around the hallway and saw another student holding an instrument.
“Hey. Band nerd.” You called out to him.
“Me?” He asked and pointed to himself.
“Yes, you. You had to let go of your saxophone case to point to yourself. Have you seen my boyfriend today?” You asked him.
“Peter? I haven’t seen him since yesterday in-“
“That sentence better not end with “wind ensemble” or I’m gonna lose it.”
“It was wind ensemble.” He said quickly.
“I’m leaving.” You shook your head and walked away from him. You pulled out your phone and went straight to your schools “campus sweethearts” page on instagram. Sure enough, there was a picture of you and Peter sitting next to each other right at the top of the page. You had your head thrown back laughing at something he was saying and he was looking at you fondly. You let out a shocked gasp and before walking out into the courtyard to look for Peter. You spotted him on a bench and smiled.
“Yes. Thank you, small campus”. You pumped your fist and went to sit next to him.
“Oh, hi. I was just thinking about you-“
“Someone is spreading a horrible rumor about you.” You cut him off.
“Oh no.” Peter frowned. “What is it? Is it bad?”
“Horrible.” You shook your head. “Peter, they’re saying you’re in wind ensemble.”
“Oh, I am.” Peter shrugged.
“Huh?”
“I play the clarinet . See. Clarinet.” Peter said and lifted up his little black clarinet case.
“Huh?” You said louder.
“I used to play in high school, pre-bite but post 9/11. I saw a flyer for orchestra on campus so I joined.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” You practically shouted. Peter knew you weren’t happy but felt strangely honored that you were so upset over him not telling you something about her personal life.
“Because I know how you feel about band nerds.” He replied. “And you and I don’t really talk about non-work related things. I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Are you kidding me? Of course I care.” You insisted. “My rumored boyfriend has been in wind ensemble this whole time and I didn’t even know?”
“Wait, rumored boyfriend? Who, me?” Peter asked in surprised.
“So you didn’t know about this either?”
“No. I mean, someone did refer to you as my girlfriend the other day but I thought it was just an accident. People think you and me are dating?” Peter asked and tried not to look as pleased as he felt.
“Apparently. I’ve had multiple people refer to you as my boyfriend today. And look. We’re on the campus couples Instagram page.” You said and held up your phone.
“Ew. We have one of those?” Peter grimaced and took your phone to see the picture better.
“Yeah. I honestly think the principle runs it.” You replied. Peter was quiet as he stared at the picture for a while.
“What?” You wondered.
“Nothing. This just a cute picture of us. And I think the only picture of us.” He said with a shy smile. You frowned and looked at the picture again before realizing he was right.
“Carly said people think we’re dating since we’re always sneaking off together.” You told him. Peter thought out this for a minute and then made another connection.
“Ohhhh.” He said and nodded his head.
“What?”
“This explains why the boys congratulated me on the bus back to New York after the Washington monument trip for losing my virginity at a historic landmark.”
“You lost your virginity on that trip? To who?” You whispered harshly and felt jealousy burning through your veins.
“You, apparently.” He laughed. “You and I disappeared to get the glowy alien egg bomb thing back and I guess everyone assumed we were off desecrating a national monument.”
“Oh my God. That was like 3 years ago.” You realized. “People have thought we were dating this whole time? We need to put a stop to this.”
“Yeah. You’re right. Or…” Peter trailed off and gave you a look.
“Or?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Or, we lean into it.” He suggested. “We let people think it. We encourage it, even.”
“Why would we do that?”
“People have been suspicious about where we go and what we’re doing since high school. We can only fake so many illnesses and I ran out of grandparents to lie about the death of by junior year. So if people already made up a reason, maybe we should let them think that. We don’t have to go out of our way to confirm it but we can keep the assumption going to keep them from finding out what we’re really doing.”
“So you think we should let people think we’re dating so they stop wondering about what we’re always off doing?”
“That’s exactly what I just said, yes.” Peter nodded.
“Hey. Be nicer to your fake girlfriend.” You said and smacked his arm.
“I’m sorry. I will.” Peter blushed and rubbed his arm. You felt bad for hitting him and wrapped both arms around him to rub them up and down. He smiled softly at you and you sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
“You play the clarinet?” You asked after a minute.
“Squidward made it look so cool.” Peter shrugged.
“Did he?” You asked, making Peter laugh.
“No.” He admitted.
The next day, you and Peter walked to school together with the understanding that from then on out, you were going to play the part of a happy couple. You weren’t going to go around announcing it to everyone or anything. You just needed to convince the few that didn’t already believe the rumor and confirm things for the ones who did believe it.
“You ready for this?” You asked Peter as you stepped into campus.
“I think so. Maybe we should hold hands or something. You know, since people think we’re dating.” Peter suggested and tried to make it sound like it didn’t matter to him.
“I guess so.” You shrugged and held out your hand. Peter eagerly took your hand and took note of the way it fit in his like it was made for him.
“This is weird.” You whispered to him, popping his bubble.
“Why? Are my hands sweaty?” He panicked.
“No. Just really, really hot.” You told him. “It’s just weird that nobody seems to care that we’re holding hands right now.”
“I mean, we are just two random people with almost no social presence.”
“That’s true. I guess I just thought people would care more.” You admitted as you looked around the campus. No one was phased by you and Peter, but he was too busy enjoying the moment to realize it.
“Are you disappointed?” He asked you.
“Yeah. I wore my best bra because I thought I’d be getting more attention today.” You frowned and adjusted the strap of your bra.
“It’s okay. I’ll take one for the team and stare at your boobs.” Peter assured you.
“Aw. Thank you.” You gushed and gave his hand a squeeze.
You got to your physics class and sat together at your usual lab table. Peter looked around the classroom while you carried on as usual.
“Maybe I should put my arm around you. You know, to really convince people.” Peter suggested with a shy blush on his face.
“Is that really something people do?” You genuinely wondered. “I feel like I never see couples with their arms around each other.”
“Actually, I don’t think I have either. But let’s try it anyway.” He said and wrapped an arm around you. You scooted closer to him so that you could comfortably lean into him. You quickly realized you didn’t hate it and let out a content sigh.
“Hm.” Peter made a little noise at the back of his throat.
“What?” You asked him.
“Our height difference makes this hurt my shoulder.” He leaned over to whisper in your ear.
“Then move your arm.” You whispered back.
“I can’t. I just wrapped it around you. It’ll look weird if I immediately take it off.” Peter said as he covered behind him to see who was looking.
“Or, consider this. Nobody in this entire city, and dare I say world, cares where your arm is right now.” You whispered harshly.
“Fine. I’ll remove it. But I have to give a reason.” He told you before loudly clearing his throat.
“Ah. Sorry, babe. I can’t cuddle you right now. My arm is sore from band practice.” Peter said loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear him. You hung your head in shame and heard people murmuring about his strange comment.
“Oh God.” Peter gulped. “People are looking. They’re gonna know something is up. I have to put it back.”
He went to put his arm back around you but you stopped him before he could draw any more attention to the two of you.
“Just do this.” You whispered to him and pulled his stool closer to you and turned towards him a little. Your knees and were touching and you were now facing each other.
“That’s it? No one can even see this.” Peter said in disappointment. He thought being your fake boyfriend would bring you guys closer but you were sitting the way you always sat in class.
“It’s not about what people can see. It’s about proximity.” You explained. “We’re sitting closer together than anyone else is without being egregious about it. It’s a simple touch. If we’ve been together as long as people think we have, we don’t need to be wrapped around each other all the time. A simple touch to let the other know we’re there is all we need.”
Peter was silent as he stared at you following your explanation. He stared for so long that you felt yourself blush under the eye contact.
“What?” You asked him.
“I like the way you explain things.” Peter said simply. You quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see the effect that comment had on you and took a moment to collect yourself.
“It’s just something I thought of.” You shrugged.
“I know. But I never would have thought of that. Especially not as naturally as it did for you. You’re so quick.”
“Thank you.” You laughed shyly and found yourself unable to look away from him. Peter opened his mouth to say something to keep the momentum rolling but his phone interrupted him.
“Shoot. Sus-tivity on the b bridge.” He whispered.
“What the hell does that mean?” You asked at full volume.
“It means there’s suspicious activity on the Brooklyn bridge.” He rolled his eyes. “We have to act fast so I didn’t have time to say the whole thing.”
“But you just said the whole thing. And the abridged version. So it took twice as long.”
“Shh.” He waved his hand. “We gotta go.”
You reluctantly collected your things and took Peter’s hand to pull him out of his seat. Peter followed you out the classroom but the teacher cleared her throat when you walked by.
“And where are you two going?” She asked. You and Peter exchanged looks as the class snickered and murmured their theories about what exactly you were heading off to do.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Pepper. My girlfriend and I have to leave class unexpectedly. Please excuse us. It’s urgent.” Peter’s said politely.
“I bet it’s urgent, Parker.” A boy snickered, making serval classmates laugh.
“Gross.” You wrinkled your noses and looked at the boys in disdain.
“Fine.” The teacher sighed. “The only reason I don’t write you two up for skipping so often is because you somehow have the best grades in the class. Go on. Just get the homework done.”
“We will.” You assured her before leaving the room with Peter. Peter noticed that you didn’t drop his hand even when you were alone in the hallway.
“Hey, you know that teachers name is Dr. Zhang and not Dr. Pepper, right?” You asked him.
“Oh my God.” Peter gasped. “Is it really? I’ve emailed her so many times and said “Dear Dr. Pepper”. We have to drop out.”
You laughed and held his hand the rest of the way out of the building.
That night, Peter laid in his bed with his phone held close to his face. He had been trying to figure out what to text you to let you know he had been thinking of you.
“I had fun fighting crime with you today” He wrote out. He read it over before scrunching his nose.
“No. Too cringe. She is not gonna fall in love with someone that says “fighting crime”. I’m not Paw Patrol.” He said like it was obvious. He deleted his text and thought of another one.
“I had a good time today, we make a good team” He wrote out instead. He read it a few times until he found issue with it.
“Oh, you had a good time stopping those break dancers that were obstructing that Sbarro? That’ll catch her attention.” Peter said sarcastically and deleted the text.
“have a goodnight :)” He typed out and then shook his head.
“No. Wayyyy too horny.” He sighed and deleted it again.
“night” He wrote out and read it a few times.
“This is good. I can work with this.” He nodded. He was about to workshop it when a text from you popped up.
“pick a color” It said. Peters heart skipped a beat at the vague message and replied with the first color that popped into his head.
“blue”
“thank u” You wrote back within seconds. Peters heart stopped pounded and the disappointment that the conversation was over settled in. After all these years of fighting crime together, you two never really managed to make it past the coworkers stage. He was desperate for more but never knew how to get there.
“no homo but I had fun fighting crime with you today” You suddenly texted again. A smile tugged at Peter’s lips and he touched his as if it were your face.
“ok paw patrol” He wrote back. Back in your room, you were laughing at his text and trying to think of a witty reply.
“ur mad bc you know I’m the chase 🐶” You texted him.
“if ur the Chase then who am I?”
“plssss ur such a marshall” You wrote back.
“but that’s the third most important dog :(“ Peter replied.
“well yes but he’s cute and wears red so the little paw patrol shoe fits” You answered. A blush painted Peters cheeks over you calling him cute but he didn’t want to read too much into it.
“Im wearing red right now😳” He texted back.
“oh I bet you are” You answered, making him laugh. He kept the conversation going for about an hour before duty called once again. Peter groaned and put his suit on before swinging to the scene of the crime. He met you there and stopped the crime before stopping on a nearby rooftop to rest.
“These burglars aren’t very considerate of our sleep schedules. Who robs a Jersey Mikes after midnight? Or, like, ever?” Peter huffed as he tugged his mask off.
“I know. They’re always at inconvenient times. I was in the middle of painting my nails.”
“Can I see?” He asked in a soft voice. You pulled your gloves off and held out your hand for him to see.
“Look. Blue. But I only got half way through before Mike’s was targeted.”
“It’s okay. They still look pretty.” Peter complimented you with a soft smile.
“Thanks. You picked a good color.” You replied.
“What do you mean?” He frowned.
“I told you to pick a color. This is why.” You explained and held out your hand again. His eyes lit up at this new information and he took your hand to see your nails closer.
“You let me chose your nail color?” He smiled fondly.
“Well I didn’t know what to chose so I thought I’d ask the audience.” You shrugged and felt shy all of the sudden.
“Oh. And I’m the target audience, huh?” Peter smirked and turned towards you.
“I never said target.” You teased him and shoved him shoulder.
“I must be hearing things, then.” He shrugged as you both smiled.
“Yeah. Must be.” You said in a soft voice as you stared into his eyes. Peter gulped before making a bold move and taking your hand again under the guise of looking at your nails.
“Look at you. You even got my favorite shade.” He noted.
“You like “Eating For Blue”?” You pretended to gasp.
“Is that really the name of the color?” He laughed.
“Uh huh. It was apart of Essie’s baby fever collection. I almost chose “All In Blue Time” but that’s one tends to get little air bubbles and they give me agida. And I used to have “A Dream Come Blue” but it rolled under the sink so it belongs to the dust bunnies now.” You shrugged as you checked out your nails.
“Wow. This is all new information to me. So, are all nail polish colors named after puns and wordplay?” He asked as he stared into your eyes. He didn’t really care, but he was finally getting somewhere with you and didn’t want it to end.
“In my experience, yes. Not always color related wordplay but always something that makes you go yeah, I guess this shade of beige is what the word “ladylike” would be as a color.”
“This is blowing my mind right now.” Peter chuckled.
“You mean blue-ing your mind.” You corrected and tapped the side of your head.
“I think you inhaled too many of those fumes. Because that was not funny.” Peter said through a laugh.
“What?” You pretended to be offended. “You’re literally laughing right now. I’m so funny.”
“You are.” Peter admitted when his laughter died down. You stared into eyes for a minute before smiling.
“Is that what you rumored saw in me?” You asked him.
“Probably.” He chuckled. “I also heard a rumor that I think you’re really pretty. Like, the prettiest girl I was ever rumored to have allegedly seen.”
“Now you’re the one who’s looney from the fumes because that’s a straight up lie. I know you’ve seen prettier girls because I was standing right next to you when Anne Hathaway left that diner.” You said without making eye contact with him. Things were moving a little too fast and you needed it hit the brakes for a second.
“Oh, yeah. You’re right.” Peter forced a laugh and awkwardly looked over at the cityscape when he realized you were politely telling him to pull back.
“But I appreciate it.” You said after a beat of silence.
“Of course. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking saying that.” He laughed nervously. “I was just getting caught up in the fake dating. We’ve been doing it for so long that it felt real.”
“We only started this morning.” You reminded him.
“Right. Well, it’s late. I’m gonna go home.” He said quickly and stood up. He had just blown that and needed to leave as quickly as possible.
“Okay. Goodnight. See you at school.” You called after him. Peter swung home with tears in his eyes and went straight to bed, missing your text about having fun fighting another crime.
The next day at school, Peter decided to start over and push last night from his mind. He played the part of your boyfriend to the best of his abilities and opened every door, pulled out every seat, and carried ever book for you all day long. Then he did it the next day, and the day after that. He kept his mouth shut about his feelings day in and day out no matter how painful it was getting. You and Peter had finally moved past the coworker stage and become real friends so he didn’t want to sabotage it all by telling you that he spent his days wishing for more.
“What are your plans tonight?” You asked him one day as you walked out of class together.
“My aunt is going out with her friends so I was probably gonna watch a movie on my couch. But on my laptop with my earbuds in. Likely in my boxers. Likely with an entire package of Twizzlers. Why?”
“Well I was gonna suggest that we hang out but you sound booked.”
“Really? You want to hang out?” Peter asked with much more enthusiasm than he intended.
“If you want. I’m not doing anything as exciting as boxers and Twizzlers.”
“I would love to. I’ll put on pants for you. I promise.”
“Sounds good.” You laughed. “Text me your address, okay?”
“Sure. Or you could walk with me now. Unless you’re tired of me and need a break before we hang out.” Peter suggested as you left campus together.
“It’s funny you say that. I was just telling my mom the other day that I never get tired of you.” You said casually.
“You..you don’t?” Peter’s face heated up as he followed you down the sidewalk.
“I don’t. I usually need a break from other people if we’ve been together awhile but it’s different with you. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my social battery if that makes sense.“
“It makes sense.” He smiled shyly as your hands bumped against each others. He was about to make a bold move and take your hand despite no one being around but you suddenly moved it to hit the crosswalk button.
Back at Peter’s apartment, he awkwardly gave you a tour and wished he had picked up his clothes before leaving the house that morning. You didn’t seem to mind the socks and boxers strewn across his room because you were too focused on all the little things he kept on his shelves. You picked up a picture frame of your freshman year high school class that had you and Peter seated right next to each other. Your friendship had only just begun so you often forgot how long you knew him for.
“So this is your room.” You smiled and put the picture back.
“Yup. This is where the magic happens.” Peter said and immediately cringed at himself.
“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. This is where I practice magic. Wanna see?” He asked and picked up a deck of cards. You laughed and went over to take one.
“Is your card the ace of spades?” He asked.
“Queen of hearts.” You snorted and turned the card around.
“You’re the queen of my heart.” He whispered.
“Did you say something?” You asked as you looked at all his Legos.
“I asked what you wanted to do tonight.” He lied.
“I don’t know. We have the place to ourselves. We could do something rated R.” You said with a coy smile.
“Like what?” Peter gulped.
“Watch an R rated movie, you perv. Your aunt isn’t here to stop you.”
“You remember me telling you that I’m not allowed to watch R rated movies in the living room anymore?” Peter blushed at you remembering something he had randomly told you long ago.
“Are you referring to the time you watched Tusk at full volume while she had her friends from work over for the first time? How could I forget?”
“In my defense, I didn’t know what the movie was about. And I didn’t think her friends were gonna come into the living room and see that guy getting turned into a walrus.”
“Yeah, the title and cover art gave no indication that the movie would end that way. But that’s not a bad idea actually. Let’s watch something scary.”
“Okay.” Peter agreed and followed you out into the living room. He turned off the lights and got some snacks while you picked a movie. He hated scary movies but he was not about to tell you that. Instead, he sat on the couch beside you as a respectful distance and handed you a bag of chips. As the movie went on, you got closer and closer to each other. Peter had never really seen you scared before but you were practically in his lap just 40 minutes into the movie. You reached into the bag of chips at the same time as Peter and your fingers touched. You both froze and looked at each other as your faces heated up.
“Shit. I’m not wearing a condom.” Peter sighed, making you yank your hand out and laugh.
“You’re stupid.” You laughed and turned back to the movie just as a jump-scare happened. You screamed and jumped closer to Peter.
“This is so scary. Why did I pick this movie?” You asked as you drew your knees up and leaned into his side.
“Yeah, same.” He replied, not even listening. He couldn’t hear anything over the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. You were cuddled into his side with your head on his shoulder and knees in his lap with a blanket drawn up to your nose. He knew you were only cuddling him because you were scared but it didn’t even matter at that point. The movie went quiet for a minute and then made a loud sound, sending you to burry your face into Peter’s neck.
“Tell me when it’s safe to come out.” You whispered into his ear. Peter gulped and wrapped an arm around you to fully protect you from the movie.
“I will.” He said in a soft voice. You peaked your head out a few minutes later but stayed nestled into Peter’s side. You realized his arm was around you and smiled a little.
“Oh, this isn’t so bad.” You shrugged as the main character got eaten alive.
“I don’t understand you.” Peter chuckled and looked down at you. You laughed as well as you looked into his eyes. He was about to say something when another sharp sound from the movie caused you to jump.
“Hold my hand.” You blurted and grabbed his hand. Peter happily accepted and clasped your hand before holding it under his chin. You stayed in that position for a long time and watched the movie. You were both so focused on the screen that you didn’t hear May opening the front door and coming in.
“Hey. I’m home.” She said, making you both scream.
“Oh, hi May.” Peter greeted while he realized it was just her.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker. I’m-“
“I know.” She smirked. “I’ll just be in my room. But, Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“No going in your room with the door closed, okay? I’m home. And we have thin walls. Just keep that in mind.” She said, making Peter turn bright red.
“Got it, May.” He mumbled. She winked at you and disappeared into her bedroom.
“You told your aunt we were dating?” You whispered to Peter in confusion.
“No.” Peter answered honestly. “I guess she just assumed we were.”
“Wow. She’s just like the kids at school.” You shook your head. “I don’t get it. Why does everyone think we’re dating?”
“I mean…” Peter trailed off and looked down at your clasped hands. You hadn’t realized you were still cuddling and quickly jumped off of him. Peters heart sank and the longer he sat in the absence of your body heat, the more upset he felt.
“You just jumped off of me like I was sharp.” He said without looking at you.
“I didn’t want your aunt to see us cuddling and think-“
“And think what?” He snapped, cutting you off. You gutted your head back in surprise and let out a nervous laugh.
“Woah. What’s going on with you? She already knows about your secret life. We don’t have any reason to pretend we’re dating in front of her.”
Peter stared at you for a long time as the word “pretend” cut into him like a knife. Every time he thought you were going somewhere, he was reminded that it didn’t actually mean anything to you.
“Yeah. You’re right.” He mumbled and looked at the movie again. You kept your eyes on him and felt guilty. You had so much to say to him but you felt unable to speak.
“Peter-“
“I don’t think we should pretend to date anymore.” He blurted, cutting you off once again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise and you got a sick feeling in your tummy that you had just ruined something really important.
“What? Why not?”
“It’s stupid. No one even cares anymore.” He shrugged. “We don’t have to fake a breakup or anything but I don’t want to hold hands or play along anymore. I’m done.”
“What changed?” You asked in a soft voice. He was still looking at the movie while you were fully turned to face him.
“Nothing changed. That’s the problem.” He said and angrily got off the couch. You quickly caught his hand and he stopped. He looked down at the ground and let out a sigh. He knew it wasn’t fair to be mad at you if he hadn’t told you what was wrong. He slowly turned around and looked at you.
“Five years ago, you showed up to the same robbery at an all night CVS that I was at and I realized we knew each other from AP Spanish class because I had asked you earlier that day how to conjugate “poner” and you said “pusiste” and I laughed because I thought you were joking but you weren’t and then that night you heard me tell the burglar that he better“pusiste” the money back into the register.“ Peter began.
“Okay. Wow. That was a really long sentence.” You laughed softly. “But I remember that. I laughed and told you that you better remember that for the test.”
“You did. That’s how I knew it was you.” He smiled at the memory. “I failed that test, by the way. I still can’t conjugate “poner.” And I still think it means “boner” even though I know it’s a verb. But anyway, that night, I couldn’t sleep because I was so excited to have met you. Even though we technically already knew each other, that night put us in each others radars. I could not believe that I had met my match. You’re into science like me and sarcastic like me and you understand this side of my life because you have the same side. But despite running into each other on patrol almost nightly and seeing each other around school, I barely got you to notice me. I don’t think you even knew my name until we ended up going the same college. You called me “Timmy” all throughout high school.”
“You seriously look like one. It’s uncanny. I don’t know what it is.”
“I thought things would change when I found out we were going to the same college. The campus is so small I figured there’s no way we wouldn’t become friends. But even then, we hardly ever talked and when we did it was always about work. I didn’t even know where you lived until last semester.”
“I remember that too. The first night we really bonded was when you fell off that roof because you were trying to show me how to do a backflip.”
“Yeah, I’ve never been able to do a backflip.” He admitted. “I only said I could because you said you always wanted to learn how to do one and I assumed given my abilities I’d be able to do one if I just followed my body. But I busted my ass and you were kind enough to sneak me through your window and patch me up with some Scooby Doo bandaids.”
“It was all I had.” You shrugged.
“And you gave it to me anyway. Because you’re kind and compassionate and I’m just…I’m crazy about you.” Peter finally admitted. “I was so excited when we started hanging out more this semester but it always ended up crushing me when I remembered that we just doing it to keep people from finding out the truth. I really, really love our friendship and if I’m ruining it all by saying all this then at least I can die with it off my chest.”
“Wait, now I’m confused. Are you dying?”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It feels like I am every time you and I start to get close and then I remember this is all pretend for you.”
“So it’s not pretend for you?” You asked quietly. Peter stared into your heads for a minute and then shook his head.
“No. I was never pretending. I like you.” He told you. Your facial expression didn’t change as you stared back at him. Peter was really starting to panic until a smile tugged at your lips.
“Sit back down.” You told him.
“I’m sat.” He said and rushed it sit down. You nestled back into his side and laid your head down on his shoulder. Peter smiled and rested his head on top of yours, finally pleased with the way a conversation with you went. You both turned your attention back to the movie just in time for it to end.
“Hm.” You huffed. “That was supposed to be us symbolically finishing the movie as a real couple but it appears we’ve already arrived at the credits. Now what?”
“We could watch Tusk.” Peter suggested at the same time you said “We could make out.”
“I never actually saw Tusk but I always wanted to.” You gasped and hit his arm with excitement.
“Or we could do your thing.” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“Let me see if I can find it.” You said as you scrolled through the streaming services on his TV.
“Or we could do your thing.”
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@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
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theemporium · 7 months
Note
yes lando comfort fic where maybe you weren’t at qatar but after yesterday took the first flight there. and it’s just full of hugs, kisses, massages, praise, pep talks. He’s got his head on your chest or in your lap :(
my heart actually breaks for the boy :(
.
The second you saw the qualifying results, you knew you had to fly out. 
You hadn’t originally planned to. You were swamped with classes and lectures and work, and after taking time off to travel to Singapore and Japan with him, you couldn’t exactly afford to take more time off for Qatar as well. 
And Lando had been understanding. To be honest, he was just happy you had taken time out to join him on two race weekends that turned out pretty damn well in respect to the start of the season. And he knew no matter what he said about compensating for your time off work, you wanted to go back before you eventually flew out to join him in the last stint of races. 
But that was before the shit-show of the Qatar Grand Prix weekend started. 
You hadn’t been able to talk to him earlier that day, too late running for work that a simple reply to his good morning message was the only thing you could send. Nor did you have the chance to keep up with the practice session. However, when you opened your phone after walking out of work to see the qualifying results, you didn’t even hesitate. 
You had played it all out perfectly, getting onto the next plane out to Qatar whilst messaging your boss that you had a stomach bug and couldn’t come in until you stopped vomiting. You had shared a few messages here and there with Lando, but he didn’t seem all too eager to talk to you, let alone anyone after the messy qualifying session. 
You didn’t arrive at the paddock until the sprint had already started, and it only went downhill from there. You thought the McLaren front row lock out would have brought up morale, but you were wrong. 
It was shit. You knew the second he crossed the line in P3 that he wasn’t going to be happy with himself. You knew it, and yet, the second his radio came through confirming as such, your heart only broke more. 
You knew your boy. You knew he would be keeping it all in. But you knew no matter what, he wouldn’t break in front of everyone else. He would pat Oscar on the back and he would play the good teammate and happy chap as best he could to the media. He would play his part. 
Until he said five words that truly shattered your heart.
“Just a lack of talent.”
The second he was done with interviews, he just wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to listen to whatever his team were saying, he didn’t want to deal with the debrief and strategy planning for tomorrow’s race. He just wanted to be fucking alone so he could stop pretending. 
He was almost annoyed when he saw his driver room door was open, ready to snap at whoever it was lingering inside his room. But then he was standing at the doorway and he saw you in the room, a sad smile on your face as you waited for him, and every resolve within him crumbled in seconds. 
The door was slammed shut and he was barrelling towards you before you could even open your mouth. His arms locked around your waist, his face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck and he sunk into your embrace, almost like it was a sigh of relief. 
“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered to him, clinging onto him tightly.
And then, he just sobbed.
You didn’t say anything as he cried in your arms, simply holding him and hugging him and doing your best to sway back and forth as his body wracked with sobs. And when he couldn’t keep himself standing anymore, you sat down on the couch with his head buried in your lap as you slowly wiped away the tears streaming down his face, hot and flushed and embarrassed but he didn’t care about his mask when he was with you.
“I’m not good enough,” he whispered, his voice raspy from all the crying.
You blanched. “Lando—”
“Five fucking seasons,” he murmured, his glossy eyes looking anywhere but you, because he knew he would start crying again if he looked at you and he was far too tired for that. “I have been doing this for five seasons and everyone keeps fucking expecting that I get a win and it’s not happened—”
“Lando,” you tried again, but he continued.
“He’s a fucking rookie,” Lando whispered in disbelief. “I just….this is just what they need. This is what they need to say that I’m done, that I’m fucking useless, that I don’t deserve my seat and I’m just some waste of fucking space that can’t even win a fucking race and—”
“Hey,” you snapped enough to finally gain his attention. “Look at me.”
He shook his head.
“Lando,” you said in a softer voice as your palm cupped his cheek, gently turning his head until he was looking up at you. “Look at me.” 
“I’m not good enough to be here,” he whispered in a broken voice. “I’m not as good as they say I am. As they expected me to be.”
“That’s bullshit and we both know it,” you whispered back, shaking your head as you took in his glossy eyes and pink cheeks.
Lando started shaking his head again, but you continued. 
“Lando Norris, you are one of the most talented and skilled drivers in this sport,” you said to him. “One weekend does not define you, nor does it take away from all your achievements.”
“I made stupid mistakes—” He started again.
“And everyone does,” you countered. “Everyone makes mistakes, Lando. That’s what makes us human, but that does not make us not good enough or untaleneted.”
He didn’t say anything. 
“Your day will come,” you said as your thumb gently stroked the apple of his cheek. “And it will be fucking amazing. And I can’t wait to be standing there, watching you on that top step as you hit that stupid champagne bottle and try not to break your trophy. And it will be the first of many.”
He let out a small huff of amusement. 
“You are more than enough, Lando, and I’m so proud of you,” you whispered to him, your eyes finding his so he could see the sincerity in your voice and words. “And you’re enough whether you have a million race wins or none. You are enough just the way you are.”
Lando sniffled, giving you a wet smile—and it wasn’t much, but it was a step forward. 
“I love you,” you whispered with a soft smile. “And I’ll love you no matter what.”
“I love you too,” he whispered back as he nuzzled himself further into your lap. “Thank you for coming.”
“Always, baby,” you grinned. “I’m always gonna be here for you.”
“Promise?” 
Your heart almost broke with how vulnerable he sounded. 
“Promise.” 
.
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ditzybat · 23 days
Text
Jason prowled deeper into the tower, it was a struggle to get the speedy kid down, but after multiple tranquilizers (that could put a rhino into cardiac arrest) the kid finally managed to knock out.
He went over his monologue speech in his head, scanning his eyes over this, honest-to-god, pig-stye of a room (seriously, wasn't this supposed to be the meticulously organized Robin? Jason could barely see the floor before him). Finally, gazing out one of the large window panes, on the phone, was his target in his robin costume - sans the mask.
Tim mumbled a tired goodbye into the phone, seemingly exasperated by the phone call, he picked up on the words 'Bruce' and sneered from beneath his mask.
"You sleep in that thing or something Timmy? That's pathetic" Jason growls out from his place from the threshold of the room.
For his part, Tim spins around with a flutter of his ridiculous cape and a twitch of his muscles "Hood, I-"
Jason lurches forward, beginning his speech, counting the sequence of events like he used to in drama class.
"I was raised on the streets of Gotham." 1. Taking off his hood. "Trying to survive." 2. Tearing his clothes to reveal his homemade Robin getup, "Until Bruce took me in." 3. Cornering the brat, only a step or two away in arm's reach - good, "I trained -"
One thing Jason did not account for was Tim to make the first move and interupt his origin story speech, stabbing the side of his neck.
"Did you seriously just fucking stab me with a hello kitty knife?"
Tim has the gall to flush, "I told Cassie and Bart to stop tampering with my equipment, it's unprofessional! I bet Kon put them up to this!" he squaked, Jason reaches up and takes the knife from his neck, putting pressure onto the wound, and examining it.
"You could've hit an artery!" Tim gives a frog blink and sleepily grunts.
"Damn, which side is the artery on again? I don't really know my lefts and rights, I'm ambedixtrious."
"Do you mean dyslexic?"
"No I'm bisexual." Tim looks genuinely confused, a pout forming on his features as he squinted at nothing like he was trying to figure out an especially difficult puzzle.
Jason, with the pit madness slowly receding from his vision, starts to become a little more concerned.
"Kid, when was the last time you slept?"
"Monday."
"It's Thursday."
"Okay??..."
Jason sighs and picks up his jacket, slipping his pants over the tights and scaly shorts. "I'm going to stitch myself up, then I'm going to make you eat something - you're so itty bitty, like an 8 year old with a six pack - then you're going to take a nice long nap while I wait for B to come and I'll lecture him on the importance of keeping his Robin's alive and healthy."
Tim yawns and nods his head, sinking into his cape so he's just a bobbing head in the shadows.
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yanderestarangel · 8 months
Text
☆𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ♡
TW: Yandere themes, manipulation, daddy issues lightly considered, rough sex, non con, dub con, Daddykink, manipulation,age gap, reader is of legal age, nsfw, smut, blood, death citation, bites, bloodkink, Dark!Miguel O'Hara, vaginal sex, creampie, AFAB READER, Pet names, DILF! Miguel O'Hara.
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You really didn't know how you ended up in that situation, your life turned upside down overnight.
You were a normal person, you had a best friend, a monotonous and routine life, always doing the same things over and over, repeating the days every week or month, but you liked it, it was your pattern. until Miguel O'Hara came into your life.
Miguel met you through an unfortunate coincidence, he was the father of Briella, the little girl you were hired to take care of and give tutoring in literature and grammar after college classes, you accepted because you needed money and enjoyed teaching the little girl but I had never seen her father's face, Miguel always left early for work which no one knew exactly what it was, he always tried to be punctual, not wanting to leave his daughter in your hands more than necessary so as not to bother you, but he had been late that day, and that's when it all started.
You taught Briella peacefully, a few books spread across the white marble table while you recited some tale by 'Edgar Allan Poe' requested by Briella herself, Miguel was an hour late that day, having been trapped on a mission in the Spider Society, fighting against another anomaly, but it took off running and throwing red webs home quickly.
Miguel composed himself as he entered the house, soon encountering you, your aura light and angelic even, your features, your body covered by the soft fabrics of your clothes, the world of O'Hara stopped there, he felt the heat in his chest, such warmth that he had not known that his Briella's mother and his late wife had died, but now you were there, before him, like a graceful and beautiful angel.
You could have sworn you saw two red hearts in the older man's irises, and it was strangely disturbing, Miguel's lower lip trembled with anticipation and desire, a desire to make you his, physically and emotionally, body and soul, every particle and The atom of his being, wholly O'Hara's, was his new life goal and he would do anything to get what he wanted.
You two spoke quickly and he apologized, trying to keep his composure and not do anything stupid in front of his daughter or scare you, but from that day on, your monotonous life wasn't so monotonous anymore, you felt someone watching over you, someone was around, you could feel it and it was awful.
Miguel also strangely increased the time you were supposed to teach Briella, the problem is that every time you went, the little girl wasn't there but her father, Miguel, always with a warm smile but masked by something darker, something that slowly surface of the "Good single dad" facade, and soon you fell into his Perfect facade, to your bad luck.
Miguel started giving you very expensive gifts or extra money, even if you denied it, he always said the same sentence.
"-Don't worry mi carinõ, that's nothing, you are an angel in my life and my daughter's." - Miguel would speak with a smile of white teeth and a little shaky as he watched your body and face.
𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌
𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝑶'𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌
𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒂𝒏
𝑨 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖<3
Soon the manifestations of possession would start, mainly manipulation, he would talk like a "concerned father" because you are younger than him, but in reality he would just use some of his mental and family instability to bring you into the web of possession it, especially if you have Daddy issues.
He will love to know that.
He'll be everything you want him to be, he'll start taking care of you, calling you "My good boy/girl" every time you do something nice or warm to him and Briella, complimenting you on how you look, asking if you ate or remembering how important you are, even if they are Miguel's genuine concerns, he will also use this to manipulate you and keep you close, you are his after all, even if you don't know it yet.
Bonus: he would force you to call him "Daddy", "Papi", "Papito" or "Sir" as a form of respect (But he knew it was for his own satisfaction, as a title that marked that you were his to him do whatever he wanted, you were his to own and keep, you are the love of his life whether you like it or not.)
Miguel will also push any love interest out of his life, regardless of sex or gender, he is an influential man in the multiverse and powerful, both physically and in status.
He will manipulate you so much that you will find yourself locked in his mansion with a luxurious and comfortable room, with no access to the outside world, just him and Briella, Miguel will manipulate Briella into believing that you are going to be her new Dad/Mom, while smiling little girl believed tall mexican's lies.
"-Oh that was your boyfriend? I'm sorry dear/sweetheart, his muscles were no use after all."
-Miguel would speak with a malicious and psychotic smile with fangs dirty with human blood. You will never leave there and if you try Miguel will punish you severely, either with poison bites, paralyzing you for a few minutes.
Leaving sexual pheromones and making you writhe with pain and lust and you won't be able to touch yourself, with Miguel watching you with a malicious and cruel smile.
Or worst case scenario, fuck you mercilessly, he'll thrust his cock inside you without warning after lubricating it with a little saliva and his fingers, with all his strength, trapping your body underneath him easily, while you listened to the older man moan and growl words of possession as he felt his cock hit your uterus and rise in your womb, while Miguel growled.
"-You are... Fuck so tight... (Y/N) you should have just stayed quiet, why did you try to run away from me? Don't you like your Daddy Miguel anymore? Hm?" - Miguel would speak in a mocking tone as he struck harder, holding your hips and leaving painful marks on your flesh with the tip of his claws.
"-I'll fuck your fucking brains out if you keep being a shitty brat, just obey me and everything will be fine."
- Miguel would speak with a sadistic and cruel voice, while he played with your clitoris with strength and anger, while he continued to stick his dick in your tight pussy, a painful and delicious mixture, you couldn't take it anymore, it was the fifth orgasm of the night, but Miguel wasn't going to stop, he never was.
"-I would destroy everything for you and build everything again from the ashes if you asked me to, and you still say I don't love you?" - Miguel O'Hara would speak with a few tears of pleasure in his eyes as he came inside you, painting your pussy with hot, thick cum, biting your neck hard and leaving a painful trail of blood and vicious bites.
♡Some quotes from Yandere Miguel O'Hara♡:
"-I really don't think you should try to get rid of me. If you try again I swear I'll make them all suffer in front of you."
"I really would hate to hurt you but you don't give me any choice darling/dear."
"I finally found you. You are so silly aren't you? You really need a punishment."
"You can't run away from me my love. If you leave my side I swear I will kill anyone who tries to help you leave my side and I would kill myself in front of you."
"I adore you so much, I would literally rip my heart out and give it to you, kneel at your feet and kiss the ground you walk on."
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messylustt · 1 year
Text
obsessed ( believe me ) — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : scream after ethan revealed himself as ghostface to you, you try to tell the group, hoping they’ll believe you…but ethan has other plans.
contents : surprisingly nothing sexual. a kiss. this is mainly the repercussions + plot after ethan’s reveal. wc 2.1k.
pt one pt two pt three
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you had locked your door tight every night whenever you’d be home. you couldn’t let a ghostface get in, you couldn’t let…ethan get in. god, the concept that he’s a killer now confuses and scares you at the same time. if ethan can kill then christ, everyone should be wary of everyone.
you aggressively mix the cupcake batter. you had grown guilty and…well…confused. you hadn’t told the group. though you haven’t had the time—you haven’t seen them since the party. so, it’s not entirely your fault. you need to tell them. they could die if you don’t.
with a final whisk you begin to pour the batter into the cupcake tins. there’s no harm in giving them something tasty as you drop the charming bomb. You place the tin in the oven, already preheated. clicking the timer you pause. what if they don’t believe you?
the carpenter sisters and martin-meeks twins have known you the same length as they have ethan. shit, you should have gotten proof, something that would show your not just pointing the finger. you rest against the counter, watching as the cupcakes begin to bake.
you can feel your heart pick a pace at the thought of ethans words. he kissed you, he wanted to kiss you. what were you thinking letting him? no, you think to yourself. you didn’t have a choice…but it’s not like you absolutely hated the idea. shit.
what if you saw ethan in class? how the fuck should you act? you run your hands down your face, growing agitated and fidgety.
;;
“y/n!” mindy called from across campus. your carrying a box full of your cupcakes, as you take a heavy breath. it’s okay.
you wander over to her, smiling, only to falter when you see chad and ethan reach her side too.
you catch ethan’s gaze and freeze. ethan tilts his head, acting like an innocent shit. you gulp as you notice a ghost of a smirk on his face.
“mindy, can I talk to you for a moment?” if anyone’s gonna believe you about ethan, it’s mindy. she already thinks ghostface is him.
“uh, sure. is it real private?” she seems confused, since this group barely kept anything from each other. you clutch your cupcake box a little tighter, and that’s when chad notices.
“hey! are those cupcakes?”
you smile, offering them to him. “yo, thanks y/n.” he opens the box as you turn back to mindy.
“it’s girls sorta stuff.”
“oh.” she smiles, grabbing your elbow. “we’ll catch up with you later!” she calls back to ethan and chad, as she brings you farther away.
as you stop by a tree, you can't help but glance back at the two boys. chad is stuffing one of your cupcakes in his mouth. you hate the shiver that racks your spine, as you watch ethan take a bite, keeping his gaze on you. he tilts his head down in thanks, and you can spot the mischievous glint in his eyes. he knew they were bribe cupcakes for your point on him being the killer, to make it sound more appealing. but he only finishes the cupcake with a hum.
you whip your gaze to mindy, your expression desperate. “mindy, you know how you're always saying that ethan is ghostface?”
mindy scowls, glancing at him. “yeah, i swear it's him.” She narrows her eyes, before shifting her gaze back to you. “why—do you think the same?”
“i don't think, i know.” you stare at her earnestly. “i saw him. he attacked at my apartment. there was this other ghostface there, who tried to first, and then…” you weren’t going to mention that Ethan kissed you. it was irrelevant. “then he took off his mask.”
mindy is staring at you as your words spill out in a rush. “wait, you're saying ethan attacked you in your apartment, and then revealed himself?” she hisses.
“well, no, he didn’t attack me. he attacked the other ghostface—”
“wait, what?!”
you shush her, glancing around. ethan and chad weren’t there anymore and you were relieved.
mindy stares at you. “why would he attack the other ghostface?”
“i don’t know!” you exasperate.
mindy spins in surprise. “what the fuck?!”
you grab her arm. “but you believe me, right?”
“i believe ethan could be ghostface, but…attacking his fellow ghostie, and then what— revealing himself to you?” she sighs. “it's a little hard to make that make sense.”
“i know, i know. but i swear. that’s what happened.” you're growing desperate, especially as you see hesitance flash across mindy’s face.
“mindy, i wouldn’t make this up.”
she sighs. “but if ethan—as ghostface—went to your apartment not to hurt you, then why was he there?”
you pause. he couldn’t have just been there to…kiss you, right? that doesn’t make sense. you go to explain more about him attacking the other ghostface when you stay silent. ethan saved you from getting killed. would Mindy interpret that as you being on the same side. no. if you’d tell her that, then she’d know you weren’t one of them.
“y/n?”
you meet mindy’s gaze, as her eyes have grown wary. you shake your head. “i don't know why ethan was at my apartment dressed as ghostface. all I know is that he is one of them.”
“i– look i want to believe you, y/n. i like you! but it's just—” she cuts herself off, breathing. “you could be lying because your…ghostface.”
your shoulders slump. this is what you were scared might happen. “mindy, i swear.” you go to grab her arm, but she steps back.
“ethan is still on the top of my list, but…let me just think.” rhen she leaves.
shit. this was supposed to go so much better.
“you should have given her the cupcakes.”
you jump, and whip around to see ethan standing with an almost smug expression. you gulp, stepping to the side. “get out of my way.”
ethan just chuckles. “didn’t work?”
your silence makes him grin. “she already thinks i’m Ghostface, but like you, has no real evidence.”
“i–” you cut yourself off, because he’s right. you have nothing on him. and it turns out your word isn’t enough. “just leave me alone.”
“so cold.” he comments. “we’re in the same lesson.”
your whole body is tense. “come on.” ethan turns, heading to the large building of blackmore.
you both make it to the hallway, bustling with students heading to their respective classes. you stay a decent way behind ethan. you will not be seen with him. that would only contradict everything you said to mindy.
then just as you're about to squeeze past the students to get inside the lecture hall, a hand tightens around your wrist, yanking you to the right. you gasp as you get dragged into a small broom cupboard.
“ethan, what the fuck?” you spin to face him. he stands his back to the now shut door of the cupboard, trapping you in.
“i was kinda hoping you wouldn’t go and be a tattle tale.” he steps closer and you immediately step back, your hand out in warning. “but your cupcakes were very good, so, i guess that’s a plus.”
“ethan. let me out.” you were growing worried, the hairs on the back of your neck spiked.
“and i know i said i’ll leave you alone and all. but, wouldn’t it seem strange if we ignore each other.”
“if you wanna act normal in front of them—fine.” you were scared, and ethan could tell. “but there's no reason for us to see each other alone.” you gesture around the closet.
“that kinda hurts, y/n.” ethan says. “i mean i’m not too much of a fan of PDA, but if you're into that, I’ll settle.”
“what?”
ethan steps closer, and your grip finds a broom. “i like kissing you. and if you don't want to do it alone, then we can do it in front of our friends.”
you gulp, holding your pathetic excuse of a weapon out in front of you. “i’ll keep your secret, they don’t believe me anyway. so, please. there’s no need to kill me.”
“kill you? gave you listened to a word i've said?” wthan brushes his hand across the brustels of the broom. “i’d rather kiss you then, then kill you.” he steps closer. “and the broom’s cute.” he’s trying not to laugh.
“ethan, seriously.”
“i’m being dead serious, y/n.” he says, tapping down the broom as you shake his fingers off. then he backs away. “i’ll see you in class.” then he’s out of the closet, leaving you standing there, breathing hard and even more confused.
;;
you’re standing, talking to tara, as you wait for the rest of the group to be done with classes. mindy and chad come out first. slowly followed by ethan. you stay close to chad, as he tells you about this dick in his lesson.
ethan notices your “subtle” move to be “safe”. chad couldn’t protect you. and not from getting hurt, ethan’s already been clear that that's the last thing he wants to happen. just from him in general. he likes you. he thought it was obvious, but he guesses you're still reeling from him being ghostface.
you all talk and walk, until you’ve reached the carpenter sister’s apartment. ethan then digs in his pocket to retrieve a ring he stole from you in the closet. tara, Sam, and quinn are heading to their apartment.
“uh, y/n?” ethan calls to you, making you glance behind your shoulder. “i have something of yours.” he holds up the ring, as you hesitantly step closer, your hand out. you think you must have dropped it on your walk.
but ethan strides over, passing your hand and grabbing your chin. before you can say a word ethan is pressing his lips to yours, you stumble slightly back, along the gravel. chad is watching, mouth hanging open. “holy shit,” you catch tara say, as ethan pulls back, with a grin.
you're staring at him agape, as you hear a few hollers from chad. if only he knew. ethan then whispers in your ear. “i’ll call you.”
;;
you're staring at your phone in your apartment, scared for it to ring. and when it does, you hesitate grabbing it.
when you do, you take a reassessing breath. you had to end whatever this was. “hello, y/n.”
ethan’s using the ghostface modulator. prick. “ethan, you don’t have to use that. i know it's you.”
“and where’s the fun in that?” the deep voice breathes a chuckle.
“stop playing games, ethan. stop all of this. i’m not interested.”
“in me?” he inquired.
you hate the fact that you falter. you shouldn’t be fucking faltering! “yes.”
“you're a very unconvincing liar.” ghostface speaks mockingly.
“and you can’t take a hint.”
“tell me y/n,” ghostface speaks, as you pace your living room. “what's your favourite scary movie?” he jokes.
you scoff. “i said no more games ethan.”
“just one.” ghostface half begs. “i promise.”
“you gonna make me another deal?”
“i can.” ghostface shuffles on the other end. “if you play this game with me and win…i’ll reveal myself to our friends.”
you pause your pacing. “what?”
“doesn’t that sound fair?” ghostface probes.
you gulp. would he really? you wouldn’t look like a fool to mindy, and worse a betraying ghostface. you lick your lips. “what’s the game?”
“that’s my girl.” ghostface praises breathlessly. you stand a little straighter, ignoring the butterflies swarming your stomach.
“we’re going to play a simple simon says.” ghostface breathes through the phone.
“simon says?” you repeat.
“mhm.” ghostface hums.
you run your hand through your hair, gathering your thoughts, and a seeable decision. fuck it. all you had to win was simon says. easy. “deal.”
you can almost hear the grin forming on ghostface—ethan’s—face. “let’s get started, then.”
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st4rfckerz · 27 days
Text
Late Night Call | Nerdy!Anakin x Reader
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word count: 1.8k
warnings: MDNI 18+, masturbating (both), voice kink, praise, nerdy!anakin is a whiny little mess.
summary: Your voice is enough to get Anakin all worked up.
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The silence of the night seemed to be swallowing the entire city as Anakin lay sprawled in his bed, staring at the ceiling. With a yawn, Anakin lifted the blocky landline phone off its cradle, the dial tone echoing through the receiver. As he recited the familiar numbers, he couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
"Hello?" a gentle voice answered on the other line.
"Hey, I didn't wake you up did I?" Anakin mumbled into the phone, his voice barely above a whisper. The soft sound of rustling sheets and a yawn came from the other end of the line.
There was a pause before you replied. You knew that voice. "No, you caught me at a good time. What's going on?"
"Oh, well, nothing really I just wanted to talk to you," he stammered, trying to mask his nervousness. "I'm putting off writing this paper too actually," Anakin admits almost sounding like he was ashamed of himself. "I don't know, I just don't feel like its good enough." He brings his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, he could feel the small migraine coming in through to temples of his skull.
"Hey, it's alright," your soft voice reassured him from the other side of the line, sending a wave of calm washing over his senses. It was enough to ease his nerves, even if just a little. "You're human, and mistakes happen. You can't expect perfection from yourself all the time."
As the comforting voice continued speaking into the phone, Anakin's breath hitched in his throat. His heartbeat pulsed rapidly in his ears, matching the cadence of the soft whispers. Slowly, the warmth that had started in his chest spread through his limbs, igniting a fire within him. His thoughts raced, his imagination running wild with images of you on the other end of the line, your voice painting vivid pictures in his mind. The soothing voice was a siren song, drawing him in deeper with each passing second.
"What're you writing about anyways?" your voice rings softly through the line. Anakin clenched his eyes shut, his grip on the receiver tightened, as if he could somehow draw strength from the cold plastic. This isn't right, he chided himself, yet he couldn't resist the pull.
He cleared his throat nervously. "Well, it's about a new tech startup in Silicon Valley, something boring like that." Anakin managed to amswer, his voice cracking slightly. His hand subconsciously rubbed against his crotch, and he discreetly adjusted his pants, feeling the bulge growing bigger. He needed to calm down. Fast.
You hum slightly, the topic taking your interest. "That's sounds intriguing, I'd read it. I'm writing about the use of real fur in the fashion industry." Anakin's heart skipped a beat hearing your reply. Real fur? That sounded controversial, edgy, something that would definitely get you a passing grade.
"Oh, really?" he managed to choke out, trying to keep his voice steady. "Do you think it's... you know, ethical?"
"Not at all, there's always faux fur y'know?" you scoff. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself. This was school-related, he reminded himself sternly. "Well, I mean, if the demand for real fur decreases, the industry will eventually adapt," he reasoned, trying to sound rational. "Plus, there are ways to ensure animal welfare during the process."
"See! You're so good, it's not even your paper and you're already shooting facts." you praise him innocently. God, he could've came in his boxers if he wasn't being so careful. His head was buzzing with ideas of how he might prolong the conversation so that you could carry on speaking. He just needed to hear you voice.
"Thanks." Anakin laughed nervously, trying to deflect the compliment. "So, um... how's everything else been? Anything exciting happening in your life besides your classes?" He couldn't shake the image of you in that little skirt you decided to wear to class the other day, your tits swaying enticingly in the tight sweater you wore. If it was up to him, he would've fucked you in that classroom in front of everyone. His cock twitched in his pants, growing harder by the minute.
"Not really, my roommate's gonna be out of town for a family thing, so I'll have a whole boring week by myself." you explain.
"Oh, really?" Anakin's eyes widened in delight, his heart racing faster than ever. He shifted in his seat, his cock throbbing against his pajama pants "So, uh, want to meet up sometime? Just you and me?" He forced himself to sound innocent, but his voice cracked slightly, betraying his true intentions.
His hand reached down his pants, feeling the head of his cock peeking out from his underwear. He wrapped his fingers around it, stroking slowly, trying to calm down. He had to focus on their conversation, at least until she agreed to meet up with him. He inadvertently let a whine slip out of his mouth as he swept his fingers across his sensitive tip.
"Anakin? Are you ok?" you ignore his question. Is he? No, he wouldn't. You think to yourself.
"Y-yeah just keep talking, 'm listening." Anakin stammered. His hand continued to stroke his cock unabashedly, increasing the speed slightly. He was so lost in the mind that he didn't even think about the possibility of you being able to hear the quiet slick sounds coming from his end of the line.
He is.
"Ani, I know what you're doing." you state bluntly. His eyes spring open and his hand slows down its movement on his cock.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't help it, y-you can hang up if you want I just-" he blurts out his words but you instantly interrupt him.
"Why would I want to hang up?"
"What?" Anakin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was sure you'd call him a sick freak and never talk to him again.
"I'm not hanging up," His heart raced wildly, his cock throbbing harder than ever. He couldn't resist your voice. "Does it feel good Ani?"
"Mhm, wish it was you." he admits breathlessly, his fingers tightening around his cock. Anakin's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
"Yeah? Tell me what you're thinking about baby." you chide. You could feel your cunt getting increasingly wetter as you continued to speak to him, it makes you squirm as the heat continues to spread through your body.
"Just you, 's always you," he confessed, his voice cracking with lust. "I wanna touch you and taste you everywhere." His hand picked up speed, and his cock twitched violently in his pants.
"You wanna taste me?" you egg him on. His voice sounded so desperate it was almost pathetic.
"Uh huh, I wanna taste you," Anakin's voice trembled with desire. "Everywhere. Mmph- your lips, your neck, your pussy, everywhere."
He couldn't help but wonder how you would sound, how you would taste, how you would react to his advances. His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing violently in his pants. He needed relief, needed you to stop teasing him.
"Are you gonna be a good boy for me Ani?" you whisper, your voice dropping down an octave.
"I'll be anything you want me to be," Anakin panted, his voice hoarse with desire. "Just please keep talking." He couldn't contain himself anymore, his hand moving faster. "I'll do anything you say, just tell me what you want."
"I wanna hear you beg to cum." you demand as you begin to slowly graze your beating clit over your panties, soon dipping your hand underneath them to be met with your soaking cunt. "You're making me so wet Ani." Your fingers swirled little circles against your tiny bud, causing you to let out a small moan.
Anakin groaned, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Please, I need it so bad." He couldn't stand it anymore, he had to release the pressure building up inside him. "I'll be good I promise," he pleaded, his voice breaking. Anakin's heart stopped for a moment as he heard the wet sounds coming from the other end. "Are you touching yourself?"
"Mhm, feels so good." you moan as you curl your delicate fingers inside your drooling pussy. His cock jerked in his hand and  his mind filled with images of you fingering yourself.
"Ah- fuck." His hand moved faster, his cock throbbing painfully in his pants. He bit his lower lip, trying to control himself, but his body betrayed him. "I'm close, so close-" he panted. His hips rocked back and forth in sync with each stroke. and he could feel his orgasm building up, he knew it wouldn't be long now. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breathing became shallow and erratic.
"Cum for me pretty boy, I wanna hear you." He couldn't hold it back any longer. With one last hard stroke, he came, his balls tightening and his cock spurting a warm stream of cum onto his blankets. He let out a loud groan, his entire body shaking with pleasure.
You can feel your own orgasm creeping up inside you as you vigorously pumped your fingers into your cunt. "Shit Ani 'm cumming!" you squeal. Anakin's eyes widened, a low growl escaping his lips as he heard you ride out your orgasm. His chest heaved, little beads of sweat trickled down his face as he tried to catch his breath.
For a moment, you both sat there, panting and recovering from your orgasms. Then, finally, Anakin found the courage to speak again. "We should... we should probably hang up, huh?" he said hesitantly.
"I guess we could," you chuckle at his awkwardness. "I'm tired now." Anakin smiled weakly, wiping away the remaining streaks of sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, I guess so," he agreed, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. He looked at his watch, noting the time. "There's no way I'm finishing this paper tonight." He laughs at himself.
"Me neither, I'll do it eventually." you smile at his awkwardness, you always found it cute. "Will I be seeing you in Callahan's tomorrow?" you ask him, hoping he'll be there waiting on you with an empty seat next to his like always.
Anakin chuckled softly, feeling a bit embarrassed but relieved. He quickly cleaned himself up and took in a deep breath. "Yep, I'll be there," he replied, his voice steady once again. "Maybe we could grab coffee afterwards? If you're free, that is."
There was silence on the line before you spoke, but he hoped you'd accept his invitation. He needed to see you again, to be near you.
"That sounds great Anakin." you beam.
He smiled, grateful for the chance to talk to you without all the tension hanging over them. "See you tomorrow, then." he added, his voice friendly and casual.
You said your goodbyes and Anakin ended the call, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him. As he hung up the phone, he glanced down at his sticky pants, a small smile playing on his lips. He couldn't wait for tomorrow's class.
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gatorbites-imagines · 10 months
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Hobie x deadpool reader or spider reader
Hobie Brown x Deadpool male reader
Headcanons
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I love Deadpool, who doesn’t love Deadpool? I tried to think of what Deadpool would be like in Hobies’ earth, and I just feel like he would kinda just be the same as always, except maybe with a metal aesthetic. And any chance to work my favorite music into stuff? I’m taking it.
You were Deadpool, and had been Deadpool for a long time. In the beginning it had just been your musician and artist name. Much of your music was different types of metal, with lyrics focused on judging the system and pointing fingers at its corruption.
Of course, a lot of people hated your music, but there was also those who loved it. One of them being Hobie Brown. Even before he became spiderman, hed always been a very righteous person with strong opinions about corruption and capitalism, so finding an artist who shared his views was great.
That was until you got a little too popular and stepped on the wrong people’s toes with your music and art. When you started pointing fingers at Osborn and his wild corruption, those against you grew more and more violent.
And at one of your biggest concerts to date, one that offered all the proceeds to those in need, you were assassinated right on stage. Theories would go around saying it was Osborn wanting to get rid of you, and telling everyone what would happen if they crossed him.
Panic consumed the arena after you were shot right on stage, and in the panic your body was whisked away. Deadpool became an icon in the anarchist circle, as one of the first to stand up against suppression and never back down no matter what.
Time would pass, Hobie would become Spiderman, and he would fight people like Osborn, even killing the guy with his guitar in the end.
But even after killing Osborn, the world was still in disarray, meaning a lot of work had to be done. So, when someone who went by Deadpool started popping up in stories and rumors, it caught people’s attention.
It was assumed you were just a fan, who wanted to use the legendary name of Deadpool to spread your message, or maybe the honor the original Deadpool. That was until people met you though.
You had the same clothes, only now wearing a mask. Your boots, your jacket, your spikes, and patches, even your guitar, you had it all. And on closer inspection, true fans could see it was the real thing.
You were almost like a ghost of the past, stories would go around that you were the angered spirit of the musician Deadpool, having crawled out of hell to wreak havoc on the upper class and tear out the roots of capitalism.
Hobie would want to meet you of course, you were like his hero and biggest inspiration. The first time you two would meet would be during a fight of some sort, and you’d chuck your guitar across the battlefield to nail a corrupt cop in the head before they could get a lucky shot at Hobie.
After that you two became close like two peas in a pod. Hobie would never treat you like you were someone above him, even though he had admired you for years, because he doesn’t believe in treating celebrities like gods.
Soon Deadpool and Spiderman being spotted together was a common sight, and so was seeing spiderman swing around with Deadpool in his arms or hanging on his back like a koala.
You never really take off your mask in the beginning, but when you do Hobie learns why you keep it on. You have a large scar taking up part of your head where the bullet had blown your head apart all that time ago.
You had apparently always been a mutant with a light healing factor, which had kept you alive, but you had been whisked away from Osborn researchers who wanted to use your healing factor. But in the end, they’d simply boosted your powers and you became pretty much unkillable.
This leads to you taking most of the hits during battle, since you can easily take it, anything you lose will just grow back. That doesn’t stop Hobie from worrying though, because seeing someone get their arm sliced off is pretty extreme.
Your first kiss is something you’d only have with a version of Deadpool. Hobie would be carrying your head after it’s been sliced off, and you would be asking him for a kiss and blowing him kisses from where hes carrying your head.
Now, anyone normal wouldn’t do what Hobie does, but Hobie doesn’t like to fit the mold. So, he would lift your severed but still living head and kiss you on the lips. Cue a make out until your body stumbles over and you can get your head back on.
You two never actually put a label to what you are, because that’s not the type of person you two are. But you two are pretty much dating now. You move into an apartment together, and sleep in the same bed at night, and kiss whenever you want.
Spiderman and Deadpool pretty much become icons in your community, for standing up towards oppression, and also being two hot guys who hold concerts after fights.
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woso-dreamzzz · 1 month
Text
Injured VIII
Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader
Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader
Summary: There's an emergency
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"Alexia...Alexia...Alexia!"
Alexia comes back into consciousness slowly. It's still dark out and her alarm clock proclaims it to be nearly two in the morning.
Olga is standing over the bed and even in the dim light, Alexia can tell something is wrong. Olga is saying something but Alexia is still waking up and only tunes in at the very end.
"-Already called Jenni. She's going to meet us there."
Alexia sits up, rubbing her eyes. "Meet us there? Jenni? What's going on?"
She flicks on the bedside light. Olga is still in her pyjamas but she's wearing her coat over the top and a pair of shoes. She's got Jaume on her hip.
He's got old little red pinpricks all over his neck and arms.
"Is that chickenpox?"
"No," Olga says, babbling at rapid speed as she shoves the sheets off Alexia's body," I thought it was but I saw some article on my feed about how to make sure it's not anything else and-"
"Olga? What is going on?"
"I think it's meningitis," Olga finally says," And we need to take him to the hospital."
Alexia's up like a shot, hopping around on one foot as she grabs the first set of shoes she can find. "It can't be," She denies," We got him vaccinated. I remember it!"
"That's what I thought!" Olga says back," But the rash doesn't go away when I press a glass to it and you know how he's been lately!"
Alexia nods, pulling on a Barca issued jacket. She pauses as she moves. "Bambi," She murmurs before raising her voice," Shit, Bambi! She was running a bit hot after her ballet class. But I just assumed it was all the movement. My phone...Where's my phone? I need to-"
"I used it to call Jenni," Olga says as they both go running out the door," She's going to meet us there."
She and Olga get there well before you and Jenni do.
Jaume is taken to get a spinal tap but the doctor is confident that it's meningitis so puts him on antibiotics as soon as the procedure is done.
"I don't understand," Alexia says," My kids are vaccinated! Both of them! They're up to date. I took Bambi to all of her boosters! Jaume's scheduled for another one when he hits a year!"
"Sometimes vaccines aren't one hundred percent effective," The doctor says, clearly used to calming enrage parents," What matters is that you saw it and you got him in tonight. The spinal tap should confirm the diagnosis but we've already got him on an IV." The doctor turns to leave before stopping. "You've got another child?"
Alexia's head frantically nods. "Yes. A girl. She's four. She's being brought in now."
The doctor nods, scribbling something on his clipboard. "As soon as she's here, have someone page me. Older children find it harder to stay still for the spinal tap. I'll contact anaesthesia and get someone to bring a mask."
Alexia's head changes from nodding to shaking furiously. "No!" She says it a bit louder than she meant to that even Olga looks shocked.
"It'll be better," Olga tries to explain," If they put her to sleep-"
"No, I mean..." Alexia shakes her head, the words spilling out of her mouth naturally. "She's allergic! To Isoflurane! That's the gas anaesthesia, right? Right?"
She looks around wildly as the doctor's face turns grim.
"I'll get some local," The doctor says," I know we made you wait outside for Jaume but it would be best if you came in for your daughter, if we're only using local, to keep her calm."
It's a waiting game until Jenni arrives with you and Alexia finds herself doom scrolling. She's dived into whatever article she can find on meningitis in children and the more she reads, the worse she feels.
They're yet to be allowed into see Jaume as the staff work to get him a bit more comfortable but Alexia can see him through the window and he's completely passed out asleep.
"I didn't know y/n was allergic to anything," Olga says softly.
Alexia laughs. It's more a nervous chuckle than anything else. "I don't even think Jenni does. My father was allergic. It skipped me and Alba but I wanted to check for Bambi, just in case."
"It's a good thing you did," Olga says.
Alexia looks down at her phone. "Where are they? They should be here by now."
"They'll be here soon. It's going to be okay."
It takes another ten minutes for you and Jenni to arrive.
You look infinitely worse than Jaume. The rash is completely obvious, taking over your whole body and Jenni looks just as distressed.
It takes another ten for the doctor to return.
You don't understand what's going on. Your Ma-Jenni woke you up super early before the sun has come up. She didn't get you dressed or brush your hair how you like it.
She didn't explain much at all...or, anything really. She just put you in the car and didn't say anything.
You'd tried to ask but your throat felt all scratchy and your tummy hurt.
All you know now is that you're at the hospital with Ma-Jenni, Mami and Miss Olga. There's a strange man with cold fingers that takes your shirt from you and makes you curl up on your side.
"Ma-Jenni?" You ask, trembling," What's going on?"
"Ssh, Bambi," Ma-Jenni says. Her tone is harsh, harsher than you've ever heard her speak to you and your tummy ties itself in a knot at her words.
You can hear the strange man talking nonsense to the adults and your eyes go wide at the tray of tools that's wheeled in. They look pointy and sharp, like the tools from that silly doctor show that Tia Alba likes.
You suck in a harsh breath when you feel a pinch at your back. You yelp and instantly try to wiggle away.
"No!" You cry," No! Off! Stop it! I don't want to! I don't want to!"
You force yourself to uncurl. You don't want this strange man touching your back. He makes it hurt and you got want any more of his sharp tools in your skin.
There's a grip on your legs though, forcing them back into position. You turn your head to look at who's got you against your will.
It's Ma-Jenni.
Her grip is firm and hard as she forces your kicking legs still. One of her arms has clamped them together, forcing them to stop moving while her other hand is on your hip, forcing your down onto the table until you're immobile.
You want her hands off you. Ma-Jenni has big hands that are perfect to hold you but not like this, never like this. You don't want her touching you like this.
"Ma-Jenni," You sob," Stop it! Stop it, please! Please!"
She doesn't stop though, merely readjusts her grip and pushes you down further until you well and truly can't move your bottom half.
"Stop it!" You continue to say," Stop it, Mama! Mama, stop!"
Hands curve around your shoulders and these are familiar hands too.
Mami's hands are perfect to hold in yours. They're always warm and they always hold you so gently. But now they've got your arms pinned to your chest and are forcing your shoulders firmly into the examination bed.
"Mami," You cry," Please stop. Mami, please. I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Mami! Stop!"
Mami's lips ghost your hairline. "I'm sorry, Bambi," She says, her voice a whisper that you can barely hear over your panic," I'm so sorry. It's going to be okay. You just need to be still. I'm sorry."
You can't move and the strange man is doing things to your back. You can't feel any pain but you can feel pressure and you can feel when he sticks something beneath your skin where things aren't supposed to go.
The only thing you can do is move your eyes and they focus on Miss Olga, the only adult in the room that's not actively hurting you.
"Miss Olga," You sob," Make them stop."
Her eyes nervously dart to the door like she wants to run away but she doesn't. She steps closer to where the adults are holding you, crouching down until your heads are almost the same height.
"I'm so sorry," She says to you," It's going to be okay, I promise. They're just making sure you're healthy."
"Miss Olga, please," You reply. You try to kick out your legs but Ma-Jenni just grips them more tightly," I'm sorry. I can be good. I can be better!"
"Hey," She says softly when your eyes dart towards your Mami," You are being so good. There's no one being better. Do you know what's going on?"
"No."
"You're very sick," Miss Olga speaks gently to you and brushes away a portion of hair that's covering your eyes," And we need to know what's wrong. Do you remember a few months ago when we came here and they put a needle in my arm?"
You do remember that. It was on one of hospital visits that you went on to see baby Jaume in Miss Olga's belly. They took some of her blood that appointment.
"They takin' my blood?" You ask shakily.
"They're taking a little bit of fluid from your back," Miss Olga explains," And they're going to test that for the illness they think you have. Like how they took my blood to make sure I was healthy."
You sniffle.
Mami and Ma-Jenni's hands are like shackles around your limbs, wrapped around your flesh and unwilling to even give you an inch.
"I'm scared," You whisper.
"That's okay," Olga whispers back," It's always okay to be a little scared. But you're doing so well. You're being such a brave girl. I'm sure it won't be much longer now."
You can feel the thing in your back moving and you try to shift with it but Ma-Jenni's hand clamps down on your hip and anchors you to it so you can't move again, not even a little rock back and forth.
"Hey," Olga says, pulling your attention away from what's happening at your back," Your Mami told me that you've moved up in ballet. I'm sure it's so much fun."
"It is."
"That's great! Do you want to tell me about it?"
Actually, you find that you do what to tell Olga about your ballet. Your words come out stilted and stuttered but you force them out of your mouth.
Olga smiles at you. She's got a pretty smile, you think. Mami must really love girls with pretty smiles.
"That sounds so cool," Olga says to you," You must be so talented." She leans a bit closer to you and you don't even feel the man taking the pointy thing out of your back. "Hey, maybe when you're all better, you can show me some moves. Only if you'd like to."
You duck your head down as the hands slowly leave your body. "Yes, please."
You're rolled onto your back but you keep your head tilted to look at Olga.
You don't know much about her apart from the fact that she's marrying your Mami and they had baby Jaume together.
Mami and Ma-Jenni are still talking to the doctor so you can fully focus on Olga.
She and baby Jaume look alike, you think. They've got the same eyes and nose and face shape. You think that baby Jaume might get her pretty smile when he's older too.
Her hand is gently resting on the side of your bed and you very gently move your own until your fingers are touching.
She hasn't got big hands like how Mami and Ma-Jenni's are big but they're still bigger than yours. They're safe too. You know this because she's never once dropped baby Jaume, even when she once tripped over and fell on her butt. She didn't drop Jaume once.
She smiles her pretty smile and you smile too, not even noticing when the nurse hooks you up to an IV.
"Hey, Bambi," Mami says," Everything's going to be okay now. I'm so-"
You stubbornly don't look at her and she frowns.
"Bambi?" Ma-Jenni asks," How's your back?"
You don't even deign her with an answer. It's still early and you're very tired. You don't want to talk to them, not when they pinned you down like that.
"I'm sorry," The nurse says," But I'm going to have ask you all to leave. The legal guardians can sleep over but that's all."
You don't know what legal guardians means but you do know that Ma-Jenni isn't one. She lives in Mexico for most of the year so she can't be your guardian because you don't live there with her.
She looks like she's going to argue but she doesn't. She reaches to give you a kiss on the forehead but you flinch away and she stops before her lips can press against your skin.
"I love you, Bambi," She says," And I'll be back to see you as early as I can."
You don't answer her.
It's just Olga and Mami left.
"I'm going to go sit with Jaume," Olga says and you frown.
"Jaume's sick too? Did I get him sick?" Your bottom lip wobbles.
"No, of course not." Olga says firmly," You and Jaume just got sick at the same time. It's very sad but it does happen."
"Really?"
"Yes." She heads to the door. "I hope you feel much better later. Maybe, if you feel up to it, you can tell me about your trains? Your Mami says that you love them a lot."
You nod. "Yes."
Then, it's just you and Mami left.
The nurse has set up a little bed next to yours for Mami to sleep on.
Mami seems a little nervous with you, pulling at the sleeves of her pyjama shirt. She looks at you.
You look at her.
You only saw her a few days again, when you painted pottery together and you asked her if you were wanted.
Mami doesn't sit in her bed, she pulls up a chair next to yours. She tries to reach for your hand but you pull it away before she can touch you, cradling it against your chest as you stare.
"Bambi," She begins before shaking her head and stopping. She takes a few moments before opening her mouth again. "I'm very, very sorry."
Those weren't the words that you were expecting.
You still don't answer though. If you blink, you can still feel her phantom hands over your body and the iron grip she had on your limbs.
She scoots the chair closer.
"I love you so much and I'm so sorry that you're sick."
She looks like she wants to say more but you don't really want her to keep talking.
"Bambi, I...I have not been a very good Mami to you," Alexia has to force the words out of her throat even if you give no indication that you can hear her," And I'm very, very sorry."
You still don't say anything. You just lie on your back with your eyes wide open.
"I'm sorry for what happened at home and I'm sorry for what a few-"
"I'm tired, Mami," You say, your voice quiet and exhausted.
"Right," Alexia says, scolding herself inwardly at keeping you up. It's still the middle of the night. "You go to sleep, Bambi. I'll be right here if you need me."
The stress of everything tonight seems to knock you out quickly but Alexia doesn't move to her own bed. She doesn't move. She doesn't sleep. She just stays in that seat even as a nurse pops their head in to confirm that both you and Jaume have bacterial meningitis.
A week hospital visit and IV's full of antibiotics is what awaits you both, baring any complications.
Jenni returns as soon as visiting hours begin again, pulling Alba and Eli in tow.
Eli diverts briefly to check on Olga and Jaume while Jenni and Alba come straight to you. You're still asleep when they arrive, lying on your back with a cannula in your hand to administer your medication.
"You look exhausted," Alba says in greeting, handing off a cup of to-go coffee to her sister," Did you sleep at all?"
"No." Alexia continues to stare at you, focussed on the soft rise and fall of your chest as you sleep.
"I'm surprised you're still here," Alba continues and, for once, her tone isn't biting. She seems genuinely surprised. "Haven't you got training?"
"I called off for the week," Alexia replies," And next week. It's more than enough time for them both to recover."
"You're taking time off?" Alba looks even more surprised than before. "Like, actually?"
Alexia doesn't know why that's so confusing. "Of course. My kids are sick. They need to be looked after."
Alba's mouth opens and closes a few times before she settles on something to say," How is Jaume?"
"Good, better. The doctors said that it's good we caught it when we did. The longer the rash is there for, the worse he could have gotten. It came up last night. We caught here as quick as we could."
Alexia's glad for that. She has no idea what could have happened, how much worse Jaume could have gotten if they had left it a few hours, let alone a few days.
Jenni is strangely silent at her words, reaching out to gently brush some of your hair out of your face.
"How long of a hospital stay?" Alba asks.
"About a week for both of them. The doctors said that they're going to do a hearing test with Bambi in a few days and then four weeks after she's recovered."
"And Jaume?"
"The same," Alexia confirms," Olga is with him now."
"Mama's with her," Alba says," We picked her up on the way."
There's a rustle of sheets as you blink awake. A yawn takes over your whole face as you wake up.
Mami, Ma-Jenni and Tia Alba are all looking at you and you pull your blankets up until they're over your nose.
You don't like the fact that Mami and Ma-Jenni are in the same room together. You can still feel their weights on you, pinning you to the bed as you struggled to get free.
You don't want them here. Not within arms length of you, in case they take your top away again and pin you down.
"Tia," You croak out and Alba pushes past Ma-Jenni to take your hand.
"You're not looking too good there, Bambi," Tia Alba says," How are you feeling?"
"Is Jaume still sick too?"
"He's getting a lot better. Your Abuela and Olga are with him now."
"Is Abuela and Olga going to get sick too?"
"No, don't be silly. Adults don't get sick like that." Tia Alba's teasing you. She's putting on a silly voice and it shocks a little giggle out of you. "I'm sure once your Abuela is done with baby Jaume then she'll be right in to see you."
"And Olga too?"
Alexia goes rigid in her seat. "Olga doesn't have to come in if you don't want her to."
You don't even acknowledge she's talking to you.
"No one has to come in that you don't want to," Jenni promises you but you don't give any indication that you heard her either.
"Olga thinks that I'm talented," You say to Tia Alba," She asked me about my ballet and my trains. She wanted to know more. Did you bring any of my trains?"
The bag on Jenni's shoulder is passed off to Alba. She digs through it, pulling out a spare change of clothes as well as a few model trains that had been shoved in there this morning.
"I want to show Olga my trains," You say," When she's done with baby Jaume." You run your trains over the bed, making little chugging noises with your mouth.
"I think that's a great idea, Bambi," Alexia says but you don't answer.
You haven't acknowledged her or Jenni since you woke up and it's put her on edge. Even when you were scared a few days ago, you still acknowledged her.
But your focus is purely on Alba but even that is hit and miss.
Whenever Alba reaches out to play trains with you, you flinch away. You look up at her in shock each time before glancing back down at your arms as if you can't believe you flinched.
"How are you feeling, Bambi?" Eli asks as she comes in.
You shrug and raise your hand. "They put a thing in my hand."
"They put one in your brother's too," Eli says," It's to give you your medicine."
"Did they put the thing in Jaume's back too?"
Eli nods. "They did."
Your eyes are haunted as you stare at her. "Did they pin him down too?"
Whatever bubble that the room was in bursts and Eli notices the way Alexia and Jenni both exchange a wide eyed look, like two little children caught red handed.
Eli has to think over her words carefully. "You're both very sick," She settles on eventually," Do you know why they had to put something in your back?"
You parrot back the words Olga told you and Abuela nods.
"That's right," She says.
"Olga says I was very brave even though I was crying."
"I'm sure you were the bravest little girl in the world," Abuela kisses your forehead but her lips feel too much like Mami and Ma-Jenni's and suddenly you can feel their hands on you again.
You kick your legs out and move your arms to shake the phantom hands off and they're gone as quickly as they appeared.
"Alexia, Jenni," Abuela says," Can I talk to you out in the hall?"
As they all leave, you look through the windows of your room.
Olga is lingering outside, looking into your room every so often before looking away.
"Tia Alba," You say," Can I still show Olga my trains?"
"Should I bring her in here?"
"Yes, please."
Ma-Jenni and Mami stay outside with Abeula for a long time but you don't even notice.
You've never talked with Olga like this before, not really. There had been a few moments when she was pregnant with baby Jaume where you watched things together and you helped her cook but you had never been like this with her before.
You hand her one of your trains and smile when she plays with you, gently moving the trains around your bed together.
"Is Jaume going to be okay?" You ask her because she's Jaume's mami and she knows things like that.
"He's going to be just fine," She promises you," And so are you. Just a few more days."
"I'm going to miss ballet," You say," That's bad. Mami never misses her training so I shouldn't miss mine."
"Your Mami's missing training now," Olga says," And she's missing it until you get healthy again. That's what you should focus on. Getting healthy again so you can go back to ballet."
"Mami is missing training? Why?"
"Because she wants to make sure you're okay," Olga says," Because she loves you."
You don't believe her but Olga looks very serious so you think that she must think that's true.
"Olga," You say," I'm hungry. When's lunch?"
She laughs a little bit about your blatant change of subject. "A few hours still," She says," How about I go to the shop and get you a snack?"
Olga slips out into the hallway where Eli is still lecturing Jenni and Alexia about their treatment of you. Your sobs and begging still rung in Olga's ears, the way that you cried and cried and begged and begged.
"She's hungry," She says, interrupting the lecture," I'm going to get her a snack."
"I'll come with you," Jenni says," I need a coffee."
The trip to the little shop was awkward, made even more awkward when Olga selected a plain chocolate bar only to have it plucked from her hand and replaced with one with caramel.
"She thinks the plain ones are too hard," Jenni says, almost carelessly," She doesn't like how they feel on her teeth. She prefers caramel."
Olga stares down at the chocolate in her hand, noting down another new thing in the column dedicated to you in her mind. It's painfully bare with only a few things - trains, ballet, the allergy she found out yesterday and now your favourite kind of chocolate.
She had told Alexia she wasn't threatened by Jenni and that's still true but that doesn't mean that Olga isn't intimidated.
Jenni just looks a bit intimidating with her tattoos and her height and the stern look on her face when it comes to you.
"Thanks."
It's silent for a moment as they both wander through the winding hallways back up to the peds wing.
"No," Jenni says eventually, shaking her head like she had been fighting with herself," I'm sorry, Olga. But I have to know...How could you let this happen? With Bambi, I mean? Stuff like this doesn't happen overnight."
Olga wants to bolt, to run and escape this but she holds herself firm as she scrambles to find something to say, knowing exactly what Jenni is talking about. "I didn't notice," She settles on eventually," It is wrong to say but it is true."
Jenni can't seem to understand though. "But how? Bambi is...How could you just not notice?"
"I just didn't," Olga says," And that was wrong of me. It was wrong of Alexia. We've talked about it...a lot...We're trying to move forward, for y/n."
Jenni looks at her, long and hard and Olga suddenly understands what rival players feel when they see Jenni come onto the pitch.
"Don't let it happen again," Jenni says firmly before taking off again, leaving Olga to scramble to keep up.
You're exactly as they left you, sitting in the middle of your bed. You're making chugging noises with your mouth as you run a train over Eli's arm.
Alexia is back in her seat next to your bed but you've scooched away from her as far as you can get.
"Caramel!" You cheer when Olga presents your food," That's my favourite! Thank you!"
"You're welcome."
You munch happily on your food a little but before you stop to scratch at your rash.
Automatically, like she did a few days ago when she first noticed it, Jenni takes your hand to stop you scratching.
You violently flinch away, tearing your hand away from hers. You scrunch your eyes closed firmly as you suck in air.
You can feel the hands on your legs again, forcing you to go immobile as the strange man pokes and prods at your back.
"No!" You cry out, turning away and curling up under your blanket," Stop it! Stop it, Mama! No bad touches! No more bad touches!" You kick your legs out. "No! Stop it!"
"Out," You can hear your Abuela say.
Eli-"
"Out, Jenni! Alexia, you too! Olga-"
"I'll go and see Jaume. He should be up from his nap by now."
"No! No! No!" You continue to chant as the blanket is pealed back.
It's not Ma-Jenni though. It's Abuela with Tia Alba hovering over her shoulder.
You sniffle if you sit up again.
"What happened, huh, Bambi?" Abuela asks," What was that about?"
"Mama hurt me," You say," When the strange man touched my back. I asked her not to! I asked her to stop!"
"I know," Abuela says," I know, Bambi."
"I didn't know what was happening," You say," It was scary and Mama wouldn't tell me what was going on."
It was very scary. You didn't think Ma-Jenni would do that to you, would pin you down and not explain what was happening. Mami could be harsh sometimes and you know she can be rough on the pitch too. She even said she was sorry while doing it but Ma-Jenni didn't.
Ma-Jenni told you to shh and pinned you down and didn't say sorry. You can still feel her hands on you, constantly pinning your legs down and pushing you further into bed.
She didn't say sorry at all and that's what scares you.
"I'm sorry that scared you," Abuela says," I'm sure Jenni didn't mean to."
"She didn't say sorry," You say," And she hurt me."
"Bambi-"
"She did! I'm not lying!"
"No one says' you're lying," Tia Alba assures you," I think you're telling the truth but, Bambi, you needed to have that done, so you can get better."
Ma-Jenni comes back when it's dark. There's no lights coming through your windows and the moon is out so you know it's night time.
Mami is meant to be sleeping on the bed next to you but she's not there.
The door to your room opens though and Ma-Jenni steps in.
But she doesn't look like Ma-Jenni though. There's something different about her. Maybe it's her too sharp features or her too pointed teeth. Maybe it's the curve of her nails or the way she's looming over you.
You can't move and Monster-Jenni's sharp claws dig into your legs easily.
You shriek but she's pressing her whole weight down onto the hand that's got your legs while her other one pins you down by your chest. You can't move. You can't stop her no matter how much you plead and beg and sob.
She's still holding you with bad touches and the strange man appears again. He's got too sharp teeth too and a massive needle that looks even scarier than before.
"Mami!" You cry as you jolt awake, gripping your bedsheets and screaming.
Mami's up like a shot, looking around like she thinks someone's hiding in the shadows. You're scared that Monster-Jenni is there too.
"Mami!" You sob, reaching desperately for her, your mind recycling her apologies as she held you down.
This time though, you crawl into her arms and sob, burying your face in her shirt as you cry.
For a moment, Alexia is in shock at your willingness to touch her. Whatever you had dreamt about must have been bad because you've curled your body around hers and Alexia very carefully curls her arms around you.
"It's okay, Bambi," She whispers," It's okay. It wasn't real. None of it was real. I've got you. Mami's got you."
"Mami," You whimper," Mami, it hurts."
"What hurts?"
"Everything!"
"I'm so sorry, Bambi," Alexia says and she knows that you know what she means, just like how you know she knows what you mean by everything," It's all going to be okay. I promise, this is all going to be okay. No matter what happens."
"I'm scared, Mami."
"I know, Bambi. I'm going to help make it better."
905 notes · View notes
sinsirellaxx · 1 month
Note
Okay but how about our toxic Slytherin boys who only have a soft spot for the reader🥺
Slytherin Boys – They only have a soft spot for you
Warning: Honestly ... no warnings!
A/N: Thank you for the request! Enjoy!
Not proofread.
Mattheo …
… whose frown disappeared as soon as he heard your voice or spotted you in the crowd. Who immediately hides his injured fist behind his back in fear of worrying you – he didn’t want to taint you with his darkness. Mattheo who deleted and blocked every single girl’s number after falling for you. Mattheo who stopped skipping classes, just to always be with you and see you several times throughout the day. The young riddle brother who’d rather wear cozy pajamas, with a face mask on his face to watch a movie with you together in his bed instead of getting wasted at a party.
Mattheo who constantly has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep himself from hurting anyone who’s too close to you.
Mattheo who is actually afraid to scare you away with his true self – so afraid, that he constantly has to put up a mask.
Mattheo who’d burn the whole world down just to be with you.
“I love you more than you know, love. From now on, everything I do is for you. You’re mine and I’ll always be yours.”
Theodore …
… who is known to be a womanizer is suddenly ashamed of his past promiscuous lifestyle.  Theodore who only has eyes for you, ever since you ran into him and ended up pulling him to the floor with you. He had been annoyed at first but the moment your eyes connected his head went completely silent. For the first time in a long while. He saw peace and warmth in your eyes – his peace, that he would run after from that day on.
Theodore who spent most of his time with you after having finally won you over. The only thing that mattered to him were you and if your relationship was getting serious and you loved him just as earnestly as he loved you, he’d even quit smoking.
“There is no one that I want more than you. You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Ti amo.”
Lorenzo …
… was surprisingly thoughtful and selfless when with you. Lorenzo had gained himself the title of being the prince of Slytherin, with his charming looks and boyish smile but every girl who had been in an intimate relationship knew how selfish and arrogant Berkshire really was. He is the my-pleasure-only kind of guy, who’d be gone in the morning. Or the guy who leaves girls on read and just sheepishly smiles at them when confronted about it. But with you, Lorenzo can’t help but light up like a small child on Christmas eve whenever you hold his hand let alone are close to him. He’d impatiently wait for your replies and snatch his phone from wherever it was whenever it vibrated in the hopes of it being a message from you. He’d trail after you like a lost puppy, taking advantage of the positive image that he had built for himself and would look at you sadly with his big brown eyes, whenever someone or even you brought up his reputation with the girls.
“Please don’t listen to those rumors … I truly love you so much. So much, it actually hurts me.” Lorenzo brokenly whispers while clutching his chest.
Draco …
… would pamper you with his money – because that is the only love language he knows. He didn’t grow up in a loving, warm household but his parents gave him everything he wanted to compensate for their lack off emotional support. Draco never knew he wanted – no, needed intimacy until he met you. At first, he had been appalled by his feelings for you. You were nothing like the ideal woman his parents expected him to marry one day, but he was lost in your eyes the second you smiled at him – trapped in the warmth that radiated in your orbs. The man completely changed – well, only when it was about you. In the beginning of your relationship, you had to teach him about the other love languages – you had to reassure him, that he didn’t need to spend money on you to express his love. You told him he could touch you, kiss you, hug you and tell you, whenever he wanted or needed something from you. After that, Draco didn’t go a day without hugging you close to his body at least once. He’d kiss you good morning and goodbye, every. Single. Day.
He'd never forget to tell you how much he loved you and how beautiful you were.
“I love you more than I thought I was capable of. My heart is so full. Thank you for being mine.”
Blaise …
… would be – what is nowadays considered as – a simp. He’d go soft for you and only for you. Whatever you want – whatever you need, he’ll get it for you. You want him to straighten or curl your hair? No need to ask twice. You want to apply make-up on his face just for shits and giggles? Anything for his princess – but please don’t take any pictures of him.
Someone looks at you the wrong way and makes you feel uncomfortable? They might go blind soon if they don’t look away asap. Blaise is so infatuated with you, that you wouldn’t even have to ask or mention the idea of a promise ring or matching necklaces – he’d be two steps ahead of you.
“I know it sounds cheesy – but you are the moon of my life. I’d do anything to see that beautiful smile of yours.”
Tom …
… still struggles with showing affection and worries, that it might drive you away. He tries – he really tries hard. Tom Riddle is known for his intelligence, but he soon has to come to terms with the fact that his intelligence won’t help him with romance. He had a lot to learn. When he first started noticing his feelings towards you, he was in complete denial. He outright refused to accept them. He had no time for love. But when another male from his year started flirting with you his resolve to ignore his feelings disappeared into thin air. He couldn’t ignore his feelings any longer – or else he’d have to get rid of many male students and that would not be optimal for his time at Hogwarts. He’d slowly start getting closer to you: Approaching you in the library to help you reach a book from the top shelf, helping you carry your books when one of them fell from your arms. He even had to practically force Snape to assign him as your Potions tutor. You had been intimidated at first, but he slowly grew on you. Tom was very attentive and took mental notes on everything you told him.
Out of respect for you, Tom didn’t want to make use of his legilimency, but he couldn’t help himself. He is still a toxic boy after all.
“I promise to always love you, my love. There is nothing that can stand between us – you are mine forever.”
_
A/N: Feedback and comments are greatly appreciated! ❤️
If you want to support me and my work: https://ko-fi.com/sinsirella
859 notes · View notes
starlightxsvt · 11 months
Text
Bloodily Safe | j.ww
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pairing ➳ psychopath!wonwoo x fem!reader
genre ➳ psychological thriller? camgirl au(read note below), college au, smut
word count ➳ 18.5k
warnings ➳ toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, very descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder (lmk if I forgot smth)
synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?
disclaimer:❗ I am, by no means an expert in behavioural abnormalities so please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. I tweaked the story and their characteristics to my needs so please don't take this seriously. Also, this fic contains some highly sensitive topics so please read the warnings carefully. Do not interact if you are sensitive to these things ❗
note: reader isn't a camgirl in the typical sense, she basically reads erotica on live.
loosely based on the kdrama shadow beauty
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I.
The glaring red light of the camera lens blinks at you as pause for a moment between your reading. Your tablet sits on your lap, glowing brightly in the lowly lit room as 8 thousand viewers watch you live through the lens.
With a sigh, you continue reading in your best teasing voice.
Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.
Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you’re too gone to care.
With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.
"That will be all for today guys. Thank you so much for tuning in. I'll be back on Thursday night!" You wave at the camera as soon as you finish and do your signature pose— making half hearts on your cheeks with your hands as the viewers leave comments asking you to stay a bit longer. Sending a flying kiss towards the camera you turn off your live and watch as the screen loads to show you how much you've earned for the two-hour live. Once the number pops up, you sigh with satisfaction and finally, take off the mask that you wear to conceal your identity.
After all, you wouldn't want people, especially your classmates or professors to find out you read erotica live in skimpy underwear and flirt with people to earn some extra bucks.
Well, a girl's gotta do what she gotta do.
Quickly changing out of the uncomfortable lingerie, you put on a comfortable t-shirt and crawl to bed with your laptop to check if the money has been transferred to your account. The camming website takes 20% of whatever you earn from each live yet the amount left is enough for you to make your work worthwhile.
Camming was never in your mind at all, even in your wildest dreams. Yet when your mother fell sick last year and the medical bills started piling up, you knew you had to find some easy way to earn good money. Then, one day, you overheard a couple of girls in class talking about camming and how good the money is.
Simply curious, you visited the website only to be unlocked to a whole new world. Thousands of people did a variety of adult content there but you were not brave enough to get naked from the start. So you opted for a safer option, reading erotica on live while wearing lingerie and flirting with the camera.
The first time you did it was only to test the waters using whatever equipment you had at hand but surprisingly, the response you got shocked you. So it started, you doing lives two days a week and earning enough money to pay for your mother's treatment and your college bills.
nerdycatboy wants to chat with you
The notification appears on your screen, telling you someone wants to talk to you privately on the camming website. You generally block these messages as most of them ask for nudes or send dick picks. Still, you click on it and watch as three dots appear, your fingers hovering over the block option, ready to press it as soon as the sender sends something inappropriate.
Surprising you, the message reads:
[nerdycatboy]: Hello, cherrybaby!
Today was the second time I watched your live.
You have a really beautiful voice.
I don't frequent these sites but I opened an account just to send you tips. Hope you received them.
Somewhat flattered, you type out a reply.
[you]: Thank you so much. I'm flattered to hear that. And yes, I received them.
[nerdycatboy]: You're welcome.
Also, I wanted to tell you something.
[you]: Sure.
[nerdycatboy]: I know who you are.
[you]: Excuse me?
[nerdycatboy]: ______. ______ of the Psychology department, Seoul University.
You're studying on scholarship.
Wanna know something funny?
I am your classmate ;D
Your throat feels something akin to a desert as you blink at the screen, praying for it to be a hallucination. The words, however, don't change and the daunting realization hits you.
Someone has figured out your identity.
Someone knows it's you.
But who?
Shit, who? Who could it possibly be?
You share your classes with almost eighty other people and it's impossible to guess this... stalker.
You're absolutely fucked.
It has only been a month since college started and you are doomed. What if whoever this is, exposes your identity and you are expelled?
Dear almighty, please let this be a dream.
A sudden ping! alerts you about another message, making you jump. Carefully, you open the chat to see what your stalker has to say.
[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't leave me on read.
You wouldn't want me to get angry now, would you?
A squeak of despair leaves your lips as your fingers nervously hover over the keyboard.
[you]: What do you want?
[nerdycatboy]: To play a game.
This really isn't looking good.
[you]: Please, just leave me alone.
[nerdycatboy]: Ey, where's the fun in that? Come on now, we'll just play silly little games.
You stare at the screen, your world coming down crashing on you as you wonder in the back of your mind, whether you should stop camming for good. Even if you wanted to, it's not possible.
Who's gonna pay for your mom's bills?
[nerdycatboy]: You there?
[you]: Yes.
[nerdycatboy]: Good. I'll come again before your next live. We're gonna play a little game then, okay?
You stare at the screen in silence.
[you]: Okay.
[nerdycatboy]: That's a good girl. In the meantime, have fun trying to figure out who I am. We see each other every day after all. It's just that you wouldn't know who I am.
You grind your teeth, holding back the urge to type all sorts of curse words you can think of.
[nerdycatboy]: Bye bye, now. Sleep tight.
[you]: Fuck you, loser.
You slam your laptop shut and lie in silence, curled up in your bed. The only way out seems to be to permanently delete your account but that is not an option for you. It is also quite literally impossible for you to figure out who it is. You don't even know if it's a guy or a girl or a goddamn fucking alien.
As the night grows deeper you only start to get more anxious and only when the sun starts to rise in the sky, do you fall asleep, your dreams plagued by the haunting messages from earlier.
II.
"_____? _____!"
The deep voice jolts you awake as you blink around, taking time to realize that you've fallen asleep on your desk during the lecture which now seems to have ended as you see everyone around you packing their bags and leaving.
A man stands next to your desk, holding a few sheets of paper towards you and you blink at them, confused.
"The professor gave us the answer sheet for last week's quiz. You seem to have fallen asleep during class." He says.
Your brain finally starts functioning just enough to realize it's Wonwoo talking to you.
Jeon Wonwoo.
The famous nerd, the genius, the pro gamer, the campus crush, the it boy and...
The man of your dreams.
"Right! Right, thank you," you croak, reaching for the sheets with one hand while trying to wipe the corners of your mouth for any drool.
"It's alright." He replies, as impassive as ever. His expression remains somber as always as he regards you through his glasses. Sometimes you wonder if he's a robot. Even though you have known him since high school, you've yet to see the man smile or shout or show any vivid emotion. He has always been the quiet type, keeping to himself, always studying or doing whatever intelligent people does.
He was the most popular guy in high school, loved by all, even the teachers, because of his perfect and polite demeanor and extraordinary results that got him many awards at the national level. The fame followed him to college too as you have seen in the last two months; with women and even some men flocking around him. You are not ashamed to admit you are one of them too, but not like it matters.
Jeon Wonwoo seems to be living in a completely different world.
"No, thanks, really." You reply, slightly awkward, not knowing what else to say exactly. He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder and turns around to walk away. He seems to have a thought as he turns his head and asks, "Rough night? I haven't seen you doze off in class ever. You are always on top of your game."
Holy shit, that is the most amount of words he has spoken to you. Scratch that, that's the most you've ever heard him speak at a time.
And more importantly, he has been paying attention to you?? He notices you enough to know that you don't doze off?
Swallowing, you try not to let your face break out into a grin. "Yeah kind of," you mumble. He nods and spares you a glance before walking out of the classroom as you watch his lean, athletic frame from behind, a soft sigh escaping from your lips.
After he's gone, you pack up your stuff, mentally face-palming yourself for falling asleep during class. Not only did you fail to keep an eye out for your stalker but you also made a fool of yourself in front of Wonwoo.
What a great day!
III.
The next Thursday, a delivery from an anonymous person comes to you just a couple of hours before your live. A handwritten note sits on top as you open the package and your gut sinks once you realize who it's from.
Hello there, little cherry!
Please accept my lovely gift. Wear it in your live today unless you want your secret to be out ;)
Also, wear something black with it.
Love, your new best friend!
You crumple the note in your hand as you eye the package nervously, dread filling your veins as your mind tries to conjure what the item might be. Hands shaky, you reach for it to rip it open and then stand in silence as you gaze at it for a while.
The asshole sent you a cat costume.
A sexy cat costume.
More specifically a pair of black cat ears, a cat mask, a pair of paws and a... fucking tail.
Absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing these provocative items on live, you sink onto the floor, an utter sense of despair settling over you.
Sweet lord, this has to be a joke.
Quickly logging in to the camming website you type your new best friend a message.
[you]: You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a joke.
The asshole is very quick to reply.
[nerdycatboy]: I see you have received my gift. No, little cherry, I am not kidding.
You grind your teeth, eyes burning holes in the screen.
[you]: I can't wear that on live!
[nerdycatboy]: Why not? You'll look absolutely lovely. The black really goes with your skin tone.
Oh for fucks sake.
[you]: Are you a fucking furry?
There are several minutes of silence.
[nerdycatboy]: You are fucking cute you know that? I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard.
[nerdycatboy]: No, cherry, I am not a furry. I just like cats and you remind me of one. I bet if I touched you, you'd purr real good.
You would never admit how that text sent a jolt of shiver down your spine and made your toes curl.
[you]: Please, can you not do this?
[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't whine. It won't get you anywhere.
[nerdycatboy]: I'll tune in later. If you do not do as you're told you know what will happen...
[nerdycatboy]: Ah, I forgot. You don't have to wear the tail during your live. It will be uncomfortable to sit with. Just send me a picture later, hmm?
[nerdycatboy]: Bye now.
Fucking mother of all fucks.
You toss your phone on the bed, groaning out loud in frustration. The cat ears and mask sit next to you on the floor, mocking you in silence.
IV.
"Hello, my darlings! This is your favorite cherrybaby, back with you. Today I'll be reading the second chapter of Sugar & Spice!"
The comments, as you expected, go nuts over your outfit— the black cat ears with the mask, covering the better half of the top of your face, the furry paws paired with a lace black lingerie. Despite your initial thoughts of ignoring them, you decide to address them with their never ending onslaught.
"Everyone is talking about my little props today." You pause for an awkward chuckle. "Well, I thought I would spice things up. Aren't these cute?"
You can hear the stiffness in your own voice. Shaking it off, you read a few comments while waiting for the live to reach your minimum number of tips, which only takes a few minutes today before you start reading the erotica.
Throughout the live, u have no idea if the asshole has joined in and you almost start to think that maybe he has left you for good, that maybe it was a one time prank. However during the last ten minutes of your live, as you proceed to wrap it up you see the notification that bring your eyes to your forehead.
nerdycatboy gifted you 500$.
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.
As soon as your live is finished you shoot him a private message.
[you]: Didn't think you'd be that pleased to see me dressed up as a cat.
[nerdycatboy]: Oh cherry, I was pleased alright. You were an absolute sight for sore eyes.
[you]: Thank you I guess?
[nerdycatboy]: Welcome. Now send me some pictures. Wearing the tail.
[you]: Can you answer a question first?
[nerdycatboy]: No promises.
You sigh. Here goes.
[you]: Are you a guy or a girl?
[nerdycatboy]: Why? Wouldn't send me the pictures if I was a girl?
You roll your eyes.
[you]: Just trying to narrow down my suspect list.
[nerdycatboy]: Cute. Keep trying. I am a guy. The man straight out of your nightmares, as you will start to find out.
Okay...
There are many many guys in your class, literally half of the total students. It's impossible to figure him out among them.
[nerdycatboy]: Now the pictures, cherry. Don't keep me waiting.
His message breaks your train of thought as you sigh, defeated. Telling him to wait while you fetch the stupid cat tail and clip it on your underwear. You're too humiliated to look in the mirror so instead you place your tripod on the bed with your phone and pose a couple of times or so, one from the front and one from the back.
As you scroll through them, you cannot bring yourself to believe you just took these pictures and let alone you're about to send them to someone. Each of them is equally provocating and humiliating. Before you start to think too much you bite your lip hard and send, watching as he views your message.
[you]: There you go, asshole.
[nerdycatboy]: Only three?
[you]: Take it or leave it. I'm tired.
You reply, not caring to be polite. The frustration and humiliation get to you as you rip the stupid things off your body and toss them away before falling on your bed and lying face down in silence.
[nerdycatboy]: Getting feisty. It's okay, I'm feeling kind today so I'll let you go.
[nerdycatboy]: Until next time, little cherry. xoxo
You watch his messages, a numbing feeling of defeat settling over you as you turn off your phone and push it away.
Even though you desperately want to think of nothing a thought continues to nag you. A shameful, despicable thought that you just can't seem to ignore.
You might be really enjoying being humiliated by an unknown man on the internet. How truly absurd, no? You let out a scream of frustration into the pillow. A faceless, seemingly rich man who has a kink of humiliating you is keeping your mind awake and body restless at night.
How did it ever get to this?
V.
[nerdycatboy]: I've been thinking about your task for tomorrow and finally made a decision.
[you]: Okay...
[nerdycatboy]: Wear a white shirt. Nothing more, nothing less.
[you]: Excuse me?
[nerdycatboy]: You heard me all right, little cherry.
You keep staring at the message as if looking at it long enough will make it disappear. It definitely doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.
[nerdycatboy]: And keep the top two buttons undone. Showing a little cleavage won't hurt. And wear red lipstick.
You keep staring at your screen, wondering in the back of your mind for the nth time just how your life came to be this.
God sure loves to test you.
[you]: I'm not a harlot you know.
[nerdycatboy]: Never said you were one. Besides what's wrong with being a one?
Him and his way with words. You roll your eyes, your fingers pressing the keys on the keyboard angrily.
[you]: If I wear white my tits will show.
[nerdycatboy]: That's exactly the point.
A seething rage envelopes your entire being as you clench both of your fists, inhaling a few deep breaths to stop yourself from smashing something. Ever since you came across this asshole you're realizing you've unlimited anger that you never thought you had in you.
[you]: Whatever, dick.
You reply and shut off your computer in an unsuccessful attempt to block him out.
However, the next day, you do end up doing your live in a plain thin white shirt which of course, makes the chatbox go up in flames.
Within a minute of starting your live, comments about your outfit start flooding in.
Fuck, you look so hot!
The red lips suit you so much!!
Yo, I can see her nipples.
You're getting bolder these days. Love to see it!!!
I'll pay anything for you to take the shirt off.
Swallowing, you ignore the crude comments and start with your usual greeting. "As you can see, everyone, my outfit is a bit risky today. Just thought I'd venture into something new." You force a laugh.
Did she lose a bet or something?
Yes, we need more risky outfits. How about being topless next time?
It's a downpour of all types of comments but you can't let them get to you. So you start reading the erotica instead, reading one or two decent comments every now and then for the next two hours. The view count is insane, the highest you've ever had and the number of tips are also sky high.
A tiny, tiny part of you is thankful to your crazy stalker, whom, you haven't seen in the comments section. You could have missed him, sure, but he was silent during the last live too so you can't rest easy knowing he is watching. You're ninety-nine percent sure he's gonna DM you as soon as the live is over.
Which turns out to be accurate.
Just as you are done taking off your mask and stretching your sore muscles after the live, his message pops up on the screen.
[nerdycatboy]: you looked absolutely devouring, little cherry.
You don't know why those words make you flush. Just a little bit, you tell yourself.
[you]: thanks, pervert.
[nerdycatboy]: this pervert would like some pictures today too.
Oh god. You rub your temples.
[you]: definitely not nudes.
[nerdycatboy]: no? :(
[nerdycatboy]: I don't want nudes, ____. Let us build up to it ;) Just snap some of you sitting on your bed with those pouty red lips. And undo another button of your shirt.
It's humiliating how his orders make you curl your toes and feel giddy all over. Like an obedient pet, you do as you're told, a bit too enthusiastically. You take your time and make sure to appear sexy and get the best angles. Once satisfied, you send them to the anonymous and wait eagerly.
[nerdycatboy]: you're a sight for sore eyes.
[you]: Prof Luther's assignment getting to you?
[nerdycatboy]: Mhmm. These will definitely help me power through.
[you]: glad I could be of help 🙄
[nerdycatboy]: you sure are. until your next live, little cherry. don't miss me too much.
You snort.
[you]: yeah, whatever, sicko.
[nerdycatboy]: Also, I'll be sending you a gift. You'll love it. I already do.
Oh god. Worry begins to bloom as your brain tries to think of the gift. What will he be sending you now? What is he gonna make you do on your next live? More importantly, are you seriously looking forward to it?
Yes, you are. This tiny, fucked up part inside you is excited and all too eager to please and obey a random stranger on the internet.
[you]: Please don't.
You type instead.
[nerdycatboy]: You should receive it within the next three days. We'll talk then.
[nerdycatboy]: Bye, little cherry. Sweet dreams.
And he's offline, leaving you hanging once again.
VI.
True to his words and from your worst nightmares, a package arrives three days later. Once again, you're too scared to open it, just standing there in silence while chewing on your lower lip. Your gut is telling you that it won't be something good which means it can only be something humiliating and freaky.
Taking a deep, calming breath, you start to open the outer packaging to find a baby pink cardboard box. There's a note taped on top of the lid.
I can't wait to see you use this on camera, little cherry.
It's only a line but it has you sweating buckets as you take off the lid with shaky hands.
Your world comes to an absolute halt. For long moments, you just stand rooted to your spot with your mouth agape, convinced that this can't be real.
It is, unfortunately.
The asshole sent you a vibrator.
A fucking vibrator.
It's a huge Hitachi wand and just looking at it gives you shivers.
There is absolutely no way...
You're immediately reaching for your phone to fire a text to the asshole.
[you]: Wtf? Is this a joke?
You type and snap a picture of the device to send it to him.
It seems that he has been expecting you to text as he immediately replies.
[nerdycatboy]: It absolutely is not. I am very much looking forward to seeing you use it.
[you]: Fuck you, dickhead. I won't. There's a limit to everything.
[nerdycatboy]: There's no limit to the games we play, little cherry. In fact, this doesn't even begin to cover it. I have more plans for you.
You can't think of a way this could get any worse.
Holding your breath, you wait for him to elaborate.
[nerdycatboy]: Little cherry, do you want to hear my voice?
What?
Your breath catches in your lungs as you stare wide eyed at the text for a long time.
[you]: Yes but not at the cost of this.
[nerdycatboy]: Hmm, as stubborn as ever. What if I told you I'd reveal myself if you use the vibrator on yourself in live?
It's the second time your breath stutters, a small gasp emitting from you as you cup your open mouth.
Immediately, the gears in your brain start turning. You'd finally get to know who he is and end this misery. Maybe you can come up with some sort of dirt on him and blackmail him in return. The possibilities are endless, truly.
However, more than anything else you're excited to finally see who it is and no matter how much you keep telling yourself no, a teeny tiny part of you is eager to pleasure yourself on camera.
God, what have you become, _____.
With a defeated sigh, you start typing.
[you]: You drive a hard bargain.
[you]: Alright. You have a deal but make sure to keep your promise.
[nerdycatboy]: I vow on my degree, little cherry. You will know who I am within the next forty-eight hours.
The thought sends an exciting chill down your spine.
[nerdycatboy]: Exciting, isn't it?
You roll your eyes.
[you]: Shut up and tell me what I need to do in the live.
[nerdycatboy]: Ah, yes. Nothing that tough really, wear that white shirt you wore last time and play with yourself. According to my instructions, of course.
[you]: Your instructions?
[nerdycatboy]: Yes.
I'll be on call with you throughout the live, giving you instructions.
Your curl your toes and bite your lip, a new wave of excitement rising within you as heat pools in your belly. This is unlike anything you've ever done before and way out of your comfort zone but surprisingly, you're all too ready to comply.
Your hands are shaky as you type.
[you]: Okay.
[nerdycatboy]: You are so obedient, my cherry. It really is great fun to play with you.
I'll call you tomorrow just before your live, then.
You swallow.
[you]: Alright.
He doesn't reply anymore and you think he has gone offline. Just as you are about to log out too, another text comes.
[nerdycatboy]: And remember ______, you follow every instruction of mine. That means you follow how I tell you to please yourself and you come when I tell you to. If you do a single thing without my permission, you're absolutely done for.
Your earlier feelings are replaced with an overwhelming feeling of trepidation and doom in the blink of an eye.
Quick realization dawns on you that you are a mere puppet being controlled by an evil puppeteer and your fate is hanging by a thread.
VII.
The next day, you receive an incoming voice call from nerdycatboy just two minutes before your live.
You are ready with your full setup; you just need to start the live when it's time. The AirPods are also set in your ears for him to guide you through.
At first, your entire body freezes up as your phone starts ringing and anxiety envelopes you as and you fall into a spiral. But when you remember how your entire life is on the line, you pick up the phone just as it's about to stop ringing.
Inhaling deeply, you speak.
"Hello?"
There's a beat of silence on the other side.
And another.
And another.
"Start the live, _____. It's time."
The voice is deep, gravelly, familiar yet unfamiliar but you don't get to think long about it because your finger presses the start button and just like that you're on live.
You see yourself on the screen, dressed in a white shirt amidst the neon pink lighting in your room. Today, you've put on a wig— a baby pink wig with two high ponytails and wore a basic black face mask instead of your usual stylish mask that covers the upper half or more of your face. It's obvious you're trying to cover as much of yourself as possible to counter the part that you're going to show.
Oh, sweet lord, you're doing this.
Your greeting and interaction are a lot stiffer compared to other days as there is a sadistic man in your ears. You've also restricted the comment box because you feel it's necessary for today, hence they move slowly as you go through them.
The man in your ears has been quiet but you know he's there, waiting with you, for the view count to reach the minimum. As soon as it does, he speaks.
"Why don't we get started, _____. Introduce your toy to everyone."
You swallow as your panicky gaze lands on the intimidating piece of device right out of the camera frame. You are full of nerves and anxiety and to de-stress yourself just a bit, you take a sip of the wine that you've hidden in your coffee cup.
Then, with a deep breath, you start.
"So guys... I've already said that I'm not gonna be reading today. Instead, I'm trying something new and different. Very, very different." You force a smile at the camera as you pick up the device and grip it tightly in your hand.
"I'm in the mood for...playing tonight and guess what I'm playing with?" You inhale deeply before lifting the device to show it to the camera, moving it around in a teasing manner.
As expected, the people in the comments go insane.
"That's right. I'll be using this pretty toy on me." You give a seductive smile, despite wearing the mask, hoping your eyes coney the expression.
"Good job, little cherry. Let's not waste time now. Turn it on." The man commands quietly and once again you're body acts like it's on autopilot, obeying him immediately.
There's something about his voice, so dangerous, so attractive. Something so powerful you don't dare disobey.
It's insane, really.
As ordered, you plug in the device and turn it on, watching warily as it starts vibrating, your throat going dry.
"Go ahead. Open your legs and put it on your pussy. Don't hold it anywhere too long, though. Tease yourself."
Oh fuck.
The sensible, conscious part of you starts freezing up with fear while the other part lets you only think about how hot all of this is and how eager you are to comply.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean back on your seat and part your legs. Trembling hands reach between them to pull your pink lacy panties to one side, revealing yourself to the camera.
There, you've done it.
Something inside you goes numb as you feel the chilly air on your bare core and from then on, you start feeling like a complete puppet, only here to dance as her puppeteer pleases.
Now there's no going back.
Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the comments fly by as the view count increases significantly.
Your puppeteer has been silent and you're somewhat grateful for his patience as you slowly adjust to your actions.
With another huge breath, you bring the thrumming device to your pussy and gingerly touch yourself while interacting with the camera, careful to follow the given instructions.
You're so wound up you don't feel any pleasure at the first touch on your pussy.
"You're so tense, _____. Don't make it look like someone is holding you at gunpoint. Relax your body, little cherry."
It proves to be harder said than done.
Still, you try to get yourself to relax and interact with the camera as you once again bring the device to your lips, playing with yourself.
"Good girl, _____. You look absolutely ravishing right now. Just keep following my voice and I promise you'll have the best orgasm you've ever had."
His tone is gentle yet ordering and oh so deep that you close your eyes and just let his words wash over you. The vibrator touches your clit right then making you jolt in your seat, a sigh of pleasure falling from your lips.
"Fuck, you're soaking, little cherry. You can try to act unwilling but deep down you are loving this. This is what you want, what you need, _____." His voice is gravelly as he breathes in your ears and you chew on your lower lip, knowing there is some truth to his words.
"Hold your pussy lips open, cherry. Run the toy up and down your folds."
You do as you are told, holding yourself open to the camera as the vibration goes through your soaking folds, making you whine in need.
"Turn the vibrations up. Just one bit."
The toy thrums stronger against your core and your legs start shaking just the tiniest bit. They have fallen wide open, resting against the armrest of your chair as you play with yourself.
"So obedient, little cherry. And so filthy. You're a real sight." He whispers. Your brain is starting to feel hazy as all your attention hones down to get yourself to release but as you expected, it doesn't prove to be so easy.
"Turn it off. Now."
Despite the serious urge to disobey him, you turn off the vibrator, teeth gritting, your pussy twitching in protest.
"We're you close, little cherry? Too bad, we can't have you cumming so easily. Turn it on again. Stroke yourself with it. Slowly."
And once again, you are eagerly following his words.
"Push it inside your pussy lips, little cherry. Just a bit. Not all the way, though."
Swallowing, you release a shaky breath and slip the vibrating head inside you, just a little bit— not even half of the head and the pleasure significantly increases as you let out a loud moan.
"Feels good doesn't it? Don't you dare slip it all the way in. There's no way I am letting a toy get inside you before myself."
His words make a shiver roll down your spine as you think of his cock and him whispering filthy words in your ear as he takes you. The little, sane part of your brain shakes her head at your deprived thoughts about a faceless man who has been blackmailing you.
"Turn it off."
Just like before, the man seems to know when your orgasm starts to rise. He tells you to shut off the device and much to your reluctance you do so, not knowing how long you can continue this without losing your mind.
"Turn it on to the highest setting this time. Hold it right on your clit. Don't you dare cum, cherry. I wanna see you writhe."
Oh fuck.
It's a really tough challenge, one you're sure you're gonna fail, yet you're helpless. You do as you're told, holding the throbbing device on your most sensitive part as you start to feel like you're gonna lose your mind. Your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, heavy pants falling from your lips as your legs shake.
"P-please, let me...come."
"You look so fucking hot right now cherry. I want to see you like this, begging for my cock. Tell me, do you want it?"
"Y-yes. Please..." You are so close you can taste the release.
"Turn it off, cherry. Right now."
With a cry of protest, you turn off the vibrator and let it fall from your hands as you slump back in your chair and catch your breath.
This is the sweetest torture.
The comments go wild, some wanting to see you come and some telling you to keep edging yourself. As you watch the number of tips only increase, your toes curl at the indecency of all of this.
"Let's continue, baby. Turn it on, play with yourself."
Hands shaky, you reach for the device again.
This game of cat and mouse continues until you're a crying and begging mess. He finally grants you your release and then rewards you with a short break before continuing. In the next couple of hours, you come three more times and your bones turn to jelly by the end of it. The live reaches its end when he finally hangs up the call and you're all too quick to wrap things up.
When your computer screen goes black and you can see your disheveled state in the reflection, your mind blanks out as you sit in complete silence, the happenings of the evening slowly replaying in your mind.
The money you've earned tonight is more than you could ever imagine and yet there is no happiness or relief bubbling in you. Rather, you feel empty and absolutely numb, the past hours feeling like a fever dream but the ache between your legs tell you they are very painfully real.
The screen of your phone lights up with two notifications, interrupting your trance.
nerdycatboy has sent you 1000$
[nerdycatboy]: a little gift for your hard work
You stare at the screen in silence until it goes black and then some more. It takes a while for you to realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. And then you are full-on sobbing as you hide your face in your hands and weep at the overwhelmingly miserable situation of yours.
When you finally get some sleep it is late into the night and tears are staining your cheeks and your pillowcase.
VIII.
Despite the rough night, you attend your classes the next day, somewhat glad that they are in the evening. You doze through all of it though, tired and way too distracted to pay attention to the lecture.
The tips of your fingers drum continuously against your desk as you wait for the class to be over. Your mind is spiraling; going haywire thinking about the fact that you will be meeting nerdycatboy today.
That is if he keeps his promise.
He hasn't contacted you since last night and given his stalker-ish tendencies, you're sure he knows your schedule. So why hasn't he messaged you yet?
Probably because he played you, silly girl.
You let out a loud sigh, frustrated, exhausted and enraged. How much longer will this match of cat and mouse go on? You have seriously started to consider shutting off your page temporarily because playing this stupid game with the anonymous asshole is proving to be way too much for you to bear.
The lecture finishes at some point while you're stuck inside your head and as you start packing your bags, you receive a text.
It's him.
I'll meet you at the library building in half an hour.
Your head immediately snaps up as your eyes scan the crowd leaving the classroom, a failed attempt to pinpoint him.
Okay, I'll be waiting.
You grab a coffee while waiting for him, your foot tapping the ground incessantly as you come to terms with the fact that you will be seeing him soon. Your misery will finally be over.
Hopefully.
What do you do when you see him? Curse at his face? Hit him? Or say it was nice playing stupid games with you now please leave me alone?
You've no idea. Your nerves leave you feeling jittery and tense as you see the clock hit seven in the evening. Half an hour is almost up so you start walking towards the library building, goosebumps arising on your skin as shivers roll down your spine.
You don't know if it's the chilly evening air or your nerves.
The library closes at six thirty so there is no one around the building now. The sun has long set and the sky is dark now, save for the little bits of orange and pink here and there.
It could be your brain projecting things but the atmosphere feels eerie and you wonder why he chose such an empty place. What does he plan to do with you? He wouldn't have chosen a quiet place unless he had some bad intentions, right?
Stop overthinking, _____. Your brain hisses.
The watch on your hand reads 7:10 now and there's no sign of anybody. Anxious, you shoot him a text, asking where he is and as expected you don't get a reply.
Tired of looking around the area with wide and restless eyes you decide to step inside the building. The ground floor is still unlocked as there are a few storage units here and you make yourself comfortable in the dimly lit hallway, leaning by a small window and focusing on the garden outside to distract yourself.
Seconds pass by with your feet tapping on the tile floor in matching beats. You grow more impatient, repeatedly checking the time and your message to see if it has been read.
Until you hear footsteps.
They echo down the hall as someone enters the building.
You hold your breath and watch the silhouette, your eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.
And your entire world crashes and burns.
It's Jeon Wonwoo, walking towards you.
IX.
The first thing you tell yourself is that this is a coincidence, that he's here to get something from the supply closet. But the idea seems less and less plausible as he keeps walking towards you, his strides determined and only stops a few feet away from you.
You gulp, your entire body frozen as you gape at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something.
Judging from the upturned corners of his lips, your reaction seems to amuse him plenty. He stands there, his hands in his pockets as he watches you with a twinkle in his eyes and says the words you were still praying he wouldn't.
"Hello, little cherry."
X.
Despite expecting those words, the shock that overcomes your system is enough to make you lose your footing as you stumble on your feet, hands reaching for the wall behind you to support yourself.
Your breath comes out in the form of short pants as small beads of sweat gather on your forehead.
You knew, you knew, you knew.
You knew it!
The second you heard his voice yesterday, your subconscious told you it was Wonwoo. You, however, chose to be ignorant, dismissing the idea just as quickly as it appeared.
There was no way it could be Wonwoo. Except it is.
You should be glad it is him, no? After all the man you had imagined in the place of the faceless man was always Wonwoo. He had been the man of your fantasies for the longest time yet the feeling of betrayal and hurt is overwhelming.
Funny, considering that he didn't actually betray you. If anything, you have been betraying yourself.
Wonwoo stands in front of you, still as a statue, hands in his pockets, his stance calmer than a winter evening. His face is blank but there is a glint in his eyes, something between sadistic amusement and cocky satisfaction as he watches you crumble in front of him.
Where is the plain old nerdy Wonwoo?
"Wo-Wonwoo..." You don't know what you are trying to say as you lose your train of thought, dropping abruptly onto the ground. Accidentally, you scrape your index finger by the windowsill but your brain registers no pain due to the overwhelming shock as you simply sit in silence and stare as little drops of blood ooze out of the cut.
God, this is straight out of your worst nightmares.
Or, your darkest, filthiest fantasies?
Wonwoo, however, seems to spot the drops of red beading on your fingertips which you ignore. He takes slow but determined steps toward you, his footsteps echoing eerily through the empty hallway. When he is right in front of you, he stops before kneeling on one knee as one of his hands reaches for your injured finger.
He watches the little drops of blood ooze through the cut with rapt attention, his dark eyes somehow appearing darker in the dim lights. Then, surprising you, he takes your hand and brings the bleeding finger to his lips, his eyes intently focused on yours as he sucks the little cut. Your breath hitches, half of yourself wanting to yank your hand away from disgust and rage while the majority of you remain paralyzed as the hauntingly mesmerizing scene plays in front of you.
"Be careful now, can't have you getting hurt now, can we, little cherry?" He takes the finger out of his mouth and observes while the corners of his lips lift into an eerie smile that finally manages to bring some heat into your blood as you seize your hand out of his grip.
"Fuck you, asshole! You're fucking sick!" You hiss out the words you never thought you would say to Wonwoo.
Your attack brings an even bigger smile to his lips as he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "Oh little cherry, tell me something I don't know."
You swallow and try to scoot away from him despite the limited space. "Did you have fun bullying me, you sicko?"
"Come on now, _____. Let's not twist the truth. I was not bullying you. We were just playing a game. Besides, I should be the one to ask that." He coos at you, his voice so innocent it makes your brain trip. Tilting his head to a side he keeps stroking your cheek with his fingertips and whispers, "Did you have fun being ordered around by me? By being humiliated? Hm, pretty girl?"
Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, clenching your hands in tight fists to stop yourself from hitting him.
He chuckles. "It's alright. You don't have to answer that." He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and stares down at you, tilting his head once more as if you're one fascinating creature. "Because we both know you loved it."
"I didn't!" Your protest is immediate as you muster every bit of strength to stand up and get into his face. "I didn't, you asshole. Don't kid yourself!"
Another pleased smile graces his lips. "Really? You didn't like it every time I called you a good girl? You didn't get more wet every time I told you I'd reward you with my cock?" He inches his face closer to yours, leaving just an inch of a gap.
"Do not kid yourself, _____." His voice drops a pitch as you feel the shift in him, goosebumps breaking on your skin. "You call me names but deep down you know you are a filthy slut and you loved being treated that way."
No. No, you didn't.
Or did you?
"Shut up!" You yell, pushing him with all your might as he stumbles a few steps back. There's a little pause in the air before his eyes meet yours as he pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose.
"You want me to shut up because you know that it's the truth, _____-"
"Stop psychoanalyzing me!" You hiss, a fresh coat of tears blurring your vision. "Look at yourself, you twisted fucking jerk!"
You push past him as you try to stomp away but his hand catches your arm at the last second, tugging your body close to him. He leans down, his breath hovering on your ear as he whispers. "You better watch your mouth, cherry or I'll show you just how twisted I am. And you might not live to even see through it."
A bucket of ice-cold water seems to wash over you as you realize the gravity of the situation. For the first time since meeting Wonwoo, you're actually scared for your life, especially when you gaze into his pitch black pupils and the little flash of teeth peeking between his lips. Even though his grip on your arm is ironclad, you yank your arm away with all your strength and start running away from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ribcage.
You dash straight out of the library and you only stop until you're in front of a convenience store far enough. Falling on your knees, you catch your breath as you pant heavily, eyes scanning around to make sure he didn't follow you.
A new sense of fear and doom settles over you as you start to realize you might have walked into a situation that may not allow you to get out.
Alive, at least.
What's worse is that a part of you is actually excited.
XI.
Sorry guys, I cannot be doing today's and next week's livestream due to some personal problems. Please understand. Thank you!
You post the notice on your camming page and lean back in your chair, exhaling a loud sigh. The past night has been tiring with the constant struggle of being alert and a dreadful paranoia that won't leave you alone. Jeon the twisted Wonwoo keeps reappearing in your thoughts, haunting you whatever you do.
Within minutes after your post, you get a notification of an inbox and you don't have to see it to know it's the one and only, Jeon psycho Wonwoo.
[nerdycatboy]: Must have really scared you, eh?
You stare at it for a while, thinking of something snarky to reply but nothing comes up so you just decided to ignore it.
He doesn't give up.
[nerdycatboy]: Don't be scared, cherry. We've had so much fun until now. You know it deep down.
Why ignore the obvious?
You sigh, rubbing your temples.
You really need a break from all this. From him.
[you]: Can you leave me alone for one day? Please?
He doesn't text back for a while.
[nerdycatboy]: Since I'm feeling kind, sure. I won't bother you for the next twenty-four hours. We'll talk after you've regained some of your composure and hopefully your senses.
[nerdycatboy]: Because deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.
[nerdycatboy]: Sweet dreams, little cherry.
His message radiates a type of threat the longer you stare at it and your mind starts to go haywire. So you shut your laptop off and lie in your bed in silence, his words repeating over and over in your head like a mantra.
Deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.
Yes, yes you do know that. And you feel absolutely horrible for it. Who in their sane mind would allow an unhinged, deadly man to humiliate and low-key blackmail them online for some twisted form of entertainment?
You, for sure.
Your issues run deep, girl.
You mentally shake your head at the situation. If you're attracted to a man like that there has to be something wrong with you, no? But what is worse is deep down, you don't want to stop. You want to push and push and take it to the very end, extremely curious to see what is in store for you with Wonwoo.
Nothing dull, for sure.
And as if you needed more proof; you end up seeing the man even in your dreams, where he does unspeakably filthy things to you and you only beg for more.
XII.
Sunday afternoon, when you're done soaking in the tub for a good hour while enjoying a much needed glass of wine, you sit on your robe and do your skincare when your doorbell rings.
You're confused because you aren't expecting anyone. However, when you peer into the peephole your confusion flips into terror and panic as you see Wonwoo standing.
You must be seeing things, right?
No, you realize, once you double check.
What do you do now? Pretend you're not at home? Tell him to fuck off? Call the police?
You're being too dramatic, your subconscious rolls her eyes.
But your emotions are valid because you have been ignoring texts from the man. True to his words he gave you just twenty four hours before starting to send you messages again that you were too overwhelmed and cowardly to open. Now you're realizing what a horrible decision that was.
Shaking off the thoughts you straighten up and square your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you open the door.
Wonwoo stands there, looking unfairly good, dressed in a plain loose white tee and dark blue jeans, his black hair falling messily on his forehead, a few strands lying on top of his steel-framed glasses.
You briefly wonder if you have a glasses kink, if there is even such a thing.
He stands there looking so boyfriend material, it devastates you, making you wonder if this is an alternate universe where you're a 'normal' couple.
Because he definitely doesn't look like a sadistic, anti-social, slightly psycho nutjob right now. And it messes up your brain chemistry badly.
"Hi," your voice is akin to a mouse squeaking as you feel hot all over.
"Hello, _____." His voice is so sinfully deep.
Why is acting so normal? Like he's a classmate here to do an assignment with you?
"I... wasn't expecting you..." You stumble over your words.
"You weren't replying to my messages so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Make sure you're okay, you know? Our last meeting really shook you up."
You really can't tell if he's teasing you or being genuine but the delusional part of you takes it as a genuine effort.
"May I come in?"
"Of course!" You blink, moving to make way for him. He walks past you, leaving a trail of his cologne wafting in the air that creates a sudden urge within you to grab onto him and sniff him like a dog.
Yeah, you have serious issues.
You follow him awkwardly as he looks around your small space.
"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee...water?" Somehow offering him wine right now doesn't feel appropriate.
"Tea, please. Black."
Why is he being so...nice? So normal? Is this the climax of his games? Murdering you in your own home after sweet talking you? After making you drop your guards? You shake your head at the possibility and watch the kettle as it heats the water, waiting for him to initiate a conversation which he doesn't.
This is suffocating.
When you offer him the steaming mug he murmurs a thanks and then asks, "Where's your setup? I'd like to see it."
Uh oh.
"Uhm," you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's in my bedroom."
"Mind giving me a tour?" His face doesn't give away any malicious intent but then again, he has always been great at keeping a blank face. If anything, he genuinely sounds curious.
Sighing, you guide him to your bedroom. The room is decent size with your bed on one side and your setup on the other. It's nothing fancy, just your pc and your huge, comfortable chair.
"When I film I put up a screen behind me and turn on some lights, you know," you mumble trying to fill the void. He looks around carefully before casually taking a seat on your bed and sipping on his tea.
"It's pretty. Like you, little cherry." His eyes connect with yours and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.
He's so... attractive. Everything about him. His looks, his voice, his attitude, his low-key psychotic persona.
"Take a seat, I won't bite." He says, his signature smirk finally appearing as you shudder before tentatively sitting next to him on your bed, still keeping a few inches of space.
"How did you find my address?" You ask softly.
He shrugs, drinking his tea, "Did some snooping around."
Not surprising. Not unlikely of him either.
"Have you thought about what I said, little cherry? About what you really want?" He asks, his voice a deep timbre as he sets down the mug on your bedside table.
Oh boy, we're not beating around the bush.
"Are you seriously here to talk about that?"
"Answer my question." The way he says those words make you weak in the knees.
"Yes," you swallow, not breaking eye contact with him. A pleased smile graces his soft pink lips and you're hit with the sudden temptation of kissing them.
"And what is your conclusion?" He asks, leaning closer to you, his scent making your brain hazy. One of his fingers traces over your cheekbone and then past your jaw to your neck.
It's electrifying.
''W-what if I want nothing to do with you?" You whisper. He laughs quietly before whispering in your ear, "That is not an option because we both know that's the last thing you want, little girl."
Little girl. Your insides swoon.
His face is now inches apart from yours, his fingers caressing your cheek oh so softly as he watches you with those dark, seductive eyes of his.
It doesn't take a second for you to make your decision.
"Will...will you kiss me, Wonwoo?" You croak.
He arches a surprised brow before smiling in great pleasure as he leans back to watch you. "You are always a surprise, _____. Only if you say please."
"Please."
"Good girl," he praises and that's almost enough to make you come. He wastes no time, cupping both of your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks go off in your head. Your hands move to clutch his shoulders and a soft needy moan escapes your lips when you feel how solid they are.
Holy mother of gods, you need to get dicked down by him.
Immediately.
Wonwoo's tongue explores every bit of your mouth as his hands grab your jaw and neck tighter, his body shuffling close to deepen the kiss. You become a puppet and let him play with you as you melt in his arms, letting him lead however he wants to.
When you two break apart you're panting heavily. Wonwoo watches you with glinting eyes, his pink lips slightly swollen like yours as his thumb traces over your lips. You subconsciously open them and he pushes his thumb in, making you suck on his digit.
You do so eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him. Heat pools in your belly as his nostrils flare and he grunts. "You're a wicked little minx you know that, little cherry?"
I can be whatever you need, you inwardly purr as you give him a particular hard suck before he takes it back.
"You want my cock? Is that what you're trying to say?" He questions, standing up and tilting your chin to meet his gaze.
You can only nod, breathless with anticipation.
"I need words, ______. You're not mute." His voice is commanding, and scolding, which makes you even wetter.
"Please fuck me, Wonwoo."
He grins. An evil, victorious grin.
"Good girl. Stand up." You do so and he tugs the belt on your robe, making it fall open in a fluid motion. Your hands move to cover yourself but he glares at you in warning, making you stop halfway.
"Don't be shy now." He whispers, letting the material fall off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. "I've seen this pussy on camera already, no?"
You swallow as his fingers trace between your legs and then easily slips one finger in due to your wetness. You sigh in pleasure while he lets out a satisfied hum.
"Tell me," he cups your pussy, thumb stroking your clit as you shudder. "How many men have touched this before me?"
You shake your head. "N-no one."
He tilts his head, a wry smile on his face. "Are you telling me I'm your first, baby?"
You nod, slightly shaking.
"Fuck, you just made me ten times harder. I'm gonna have much more fun defiling you now."
You gulp, stuck in a trance as you let him guide you back to bed with a hard push. You land on your back and watch Wonwoo take his tee off and boy, is that a sight. Your thighs automatically press together when his sculpted body comes into view and the sight of his broad shoulders makes you clutch the bedsheets in a tight fist.
However, something catches your eye; a patch of scarred skin right on his left abdomen, spreading from the front to his back and if you had to guess you'd say it is a burn mark. You don't get to think about it long because he's distracting you with a kiss.
"Like what you see?" He's cocky.
You nod, eyes settling on the bulge in his jeans, waiting for him to take it off so that you can see the object of your desires.
Alas, he has other plans for you.
"Open your legs, little cherry."
They fall apart on command as Wonwoo gets comfort between them, one of his hands trailing over your breasts and your belly while the other softly strokes your sopping wet core. It's embarrassing how easily he can slip two fingers deep inside you. "So fucking wet, you dirty whore." He muses with a smirk.
God, you love his voice.
Your moans rise in pitch as his fingers develop a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you in precise, perfect movements. Your release is so close you can taste it.
Automatically, your hips rise off the bed as your body tilts itself upward for a little stimulation on your clit. Wonwoo takes notice of it and laughs, "Aw, little whore is gonna come so soon? You want me to do this?"
The brush of the pad of his finger is enough to set you off as you scream and let your release wash over you. Your toes curl as you fist the sheets hard enough to almost rip them, riding out your high while he continues to plunge his digits in and out of you.
Once you finally get to catch your breath, he pulls them out and pops the fingers in his mouth, making a show of licking them.
You shudder, your body preparing for another round as moisture gathers between your legs once again.
"Fucking delicious." He grins, making you heat up all over. There is nowhere to hide, your whole body on display for him and he doesn't mask his appreciation as he drinks up every naked inch of you with a devouring gaze.
"Please, f-fuck me," you're not shy about begging as the need for his cock worsens.
"Oh I will," he promises, taking off his glasses and setting them down on your bedside table. Without much thinking your fingers trail over his chiseled abdomen and then down, over the tent of his pants as you fiddle with the button, trying to open it. Wonwoo amuses you for a while before batting your hand away, glaring at you. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"
You bite your lip and shake your head no.
"That's right." His voice is calm as he watches you for a few beats, hungry eyes trained on your lips before his right hand suddenly comes to wrap around your throat.
Your breath stutters as you watch him, wide eyed.
"Touch me again without permission and you won't be coming anytime soon." He threatens, tightening the grip on your throat as your airflow gradually decreases, making you feel fuzzy. You should be scared for your life, but you aren't, instead, the action only makes you wetter as you rub your thighs and mewl and beg with your eyes to ease the ache.
He listens.
Letting you go, he gets off the bed and takes off his pants and boxers, while your brain and lungs catch up due to the lack of oxygen. You blink and gulp when you see how blessed he is in length and girth, your breathing irregular.
Smirking at your reaction, he gets back on the bed and traps you beneath him, amusement and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I don't think you'll need any more prepping," he muses, trailing his fingers to your pussy and dipping one in the collect your arousal. You vehemently shake your head yes.
He laughs. "Hungry for cock, slut?"
"Y-yes." You whisper, breathless, wide eyed, needy.
Wonwoo leans down to nip on your jaw and your neck as he aligns himself with your entrance. Then, a thought comes to you.
"We... don't have a condom..."
"I'm clean, little cherry. Besides, there's no way I'd not take this virgin cunt bare." His words are vile and his smile is diabolical, sending shivers down your spine. It's alarming how attractive you find his insanity.
"Hold on to me. Bite my shoulder if it hurts too much." That's all the warning you get and not enough time to process as he shoves his cock inside you in one go. A loud wail erupts from your throat as tears burn your eyes, your nails digging into Wonwoo's biceps as you cling to him for dear life.
"So fucking tight." His voice is hoarse as he remains still for a few seconds, letting you catch your breath. The pain of the stretch doesn't ease up but the man on top of you isn't too bothered. He starts thrusting, slow, small thrusts at first as you rest your head in the crook of his neck and hold him tight, breathing harshly.
Soon, his pace increases, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars and your toes curl. Feeling you tighten around him, he chuckles, "You like that? You like it when I hit here?" He punctuates by thrusting you right there once again and you scream.
"Yes! Harder!"
He scoffs. "Such a slut. How did you survive so long without a dick shoved up inside you, huh?" He leans back, prying your body off of him and grabs both your cheeks in one hand, puckering your lips. "Want it harder? Say please."
"P-please," you manage to utter despite his strong grip on your jaw. Your cheeks ache from how hard he grabs you but you're once again surprised by how much the pain turns you on.
"Open your mouth," he commands, intense eyes trained on you, his pace never faltering. You are not going to last very long, you realize.
You follow his command and open your mouth as he eases his grip and stunning you, he spits right into your mouth.
"Swallow it, little whore." He orders, making your pussy clench deliciously. You once again do as you're told.
"You loved that, didn't you?" He scoffs. "You are a real treat, little cherry. You're fucking perfect." His hands wrap around your throat, almost as leverage as his pace becomes wild, driving in and out of you so fast, the bed starts shaking.
"I'm..gonna come." You whisper. The pressure building inside you is about to burst and you can't hold it any longer. Not resuming his pace or bothering to acknowledge your words, Wonwoo keeps on going while slithering a hand down to your core, where he flicks your clit before roughly pinching it.
You go off like a rocket.
The pleasure is mind-numbing, making you arch off the bed with a wail. It's like a tsunami of pleasure has crashed onto you and it only amplifies when you feel him swell inside you before releasing himself. Your pussy is coated with warm bursts of his cum as your body continues to shake, still riding the wave of your high.
You feel him pull out, his cum trickling out of your spent hole as you still float back down to earth and before you can let out a sigh of relief that it is over, he's spreading your legs as wide as they can go, getting you in a spread eagle position.
"Keep your legs like that, slut." He commands, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and fierce that once again lights up the fire in your core.
What has this man done to you?
You're insatiable, riding a never ending lust filled high as you watch the insanely hot man on top of you. His hair is messier now and there's a light sheen of sweat on his body that only adds to the appeal.
You don't know if you want to devour him or be devoured by him.
"I'm not done with you yet." He murmurs, watching you with dark eyes as he strokes his cock. "Look at your blood on my cock, little cherry. Isn't that a sight?" He grins, flashing his teeth.
Goosebumps rake down your spine.
"I always loved blood but having you bleed on my cock? This is just incomparable, sweetheart." He pushes a couple of his fingers coated in your blood and his cum and shoves them into your mouth. You're all too eager to lick them clean without a second of delay.
Your tongue dances on his digits, licking them clean and tasting the metallic, bitter flavor before he pops them off your lips. Then, once again leaving you flabbergasted, he slaps you on the right cheek. It doesn't hurt bad but it stings and you're ashamed of how much you liked it.
The evil smile is back on his face. "You like that?" He smacks your other cheek and you nod eagerly. At this point you realize, there's nothing this man can do to you that you wouldn't like.
"You're an absolute fucking piece, little cherry. I'm so glad I snatched you up. Couldn't let any other man have you, could I?"
He kisses your jaw before moving towards your neck, sniffing as he goes. "You smell so addictive. So... mine." He muses as he sucks on the tender spot on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.
"Please, Wonwoo..." You are desperate and your legs hurt from staying wide open. The plea reaches his ears as he sits back and puts his fingers in his mouth, wetting them before shoving them inside your sore yet throbbing pussy. He plunges them in and out for a while, pushing his cum back inside you and watching with a smirk how your mouth falls open in pleasure.
And then he thrusts himself in. You know this time it is gonna be quick with his extra fast movements as he holds your calves for leverage and pounds in and out of you restlessly. You're on the brink of losing your sanity with how good he feels, unceremonious moans and gasps continuously leaving your mouth.
Suddenly a smack graces you on the cheek, making your body jerk and pussy tighten. It takes a while to realize Wonwoo has slapped you again and once you do so, you eagerly wait for another. Unlike last time, your cheek heats up from the force and you can actually feel the flesh burn but gosh, do you not love it any less.
"Dirty fucking slut. Letting me treat you however I want. You love it, no? You love the pain?" He hisses, brows furrowed as his pace starts to falter. You nod eagerly moving your hips against his, desperately chasing your end.
Two punctuated thrusts on your g-spot and you come without any warning. Once again, you feel like you're launched into outer space as your entire body jerks, leaving you gasping for air. Wonwoo releases himself all over your stomach and tits this time, soft groans of pleasure falling from his lips.
It's addictive.
Everything about this man is addictive.
He is the sweetest form of darkness, here to drag you down to hell with him. And you have no complaints.
That is your last coherent thought before you fall into a peaceful slumber.
XIII.
The next day, Wonwoo sits next to you in class, acting like his usual self, like he didn't blow your back out last night. He stays mostly quiet and keeps to himself, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. However, underneath the desk, his hand holds your thigh in a possessive grip, his fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh.
It is safe to say you don't get to focus much on the lesson.
After the class, you and Wonwoo grab a cool drink and sit on one of the benches laid throughout the campus field.
You are still processing the events of last night and seeing how he hasn't mentioned it even once, you wonder if it was all your imagination.
No, it was all too real to be untrue.
As you sit next to him and chew on your straw, you wonder how you should approach the subject. Wonwoo, who has been silently enjoying his drink suddenly speaks, just as you get your thoughts together. It, however, is the last thing you expected him to say.
"Did I ever tell you about how I murdered a man?"
Your body turns into a block of ice as you whip your head towards Wonwoo, who sits with his elbows resting on his knees, an impassive look on his face. Silently, you blink a few times, waiting, just to make sure you didn't hear him wrong.
He is kidding.
Right?
He tilts his head to face you, a wry chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your expression. "Come on now, little cherry, don't look so shocked."
You cough and look away, a lame attempt to mask your expression. "I don't want to know anything I should not know." You murmur, looking down at the ground. "Besides, you're joking, right?"
"No, I'm not." He laughs a little, before exhaling loudly. "I also doubt you'd tattle on me. Who would fuck you so good like last night if I went to jail?"
His words make you squirm in your seat.
"Besides, it's a really interesting story. One I've never told anyone before."
Should you feel honored?
Wonwoo seems to take your silence as a yes because he starts narrating. "Once upon a time, there was a man. An alcoholic, pathetic excuse of a man who did terrible things to a woman, my mother. I was very young when it started. He'd beat the shit out of her for every little reason. It would only get worse when he got drunk, which was more often than not. Sometimes he'd lock her up in the basement and keep her naked and unfed. One time, when I was about ten years old, he broke every finger on her right hand just because the dinner wasn't served on time."
You have stopped breathing by now, as you sit in absolute silence, your limbs immobile as if you are paralyzed. You have a very good idea of where this story is going and how it might end. That should make you want to get up and leave but you just can't bring yourself to, as you sit mute and take occasional tentative peeks at the man next to you.
"That was the first time I stood up to him. My mother had passed out from the pain and I yelled at him and pushed him which made him take it out on me too. He hadn't hit me ever before. But that night, he kept on going till the dawn, as if making up for all the times he didn't."
He falls silent for a few moments and you take a chance to peek at him. As always, it's impossible to read him, his face an emotionless canvas and his eyes emptier than a desert, lost somewhere in his dark memories. You can't help but wonder if he feels any pain or remorse as he recalls his traumatic past. If he does, how can he mask it so well?
"Six months after that, my mother fell off the roof of our building. The police concluded it as suicide because they found out she was drunk. But she wasn't."
"The night before, as always, the pathetic loser came home drunk and smashed things around for a while. There was a ruby necklace that my grandmother gave to my mother when she got married. That night, he was asking for it because he needed immediate cash and my mother wouldn't give it. She probably had enough because that was the only night she stood up against him and she protested hard. I remember her smashing a bottle on his head. Of course, he wouldn't let that slide but something was different about him that night. He was more despairing, more evil. He slapped her around a few times before choking her until she passed out. I can still hear his words in my head.
I'll get rid of you tonight bitch.
I'll get rid of you for good."
He then took out a bunch of booze and ordered her to drink them, saying that if she resisted, I'd get the beatings. She obeyed him and I only watched, as I always did and he kept forcing her to drink till she couldn't utter a coherent word or couldn't even remain seated. Once she passed out from all the booze he came to me and patted my head. With the evilest of smiles, he said,
"Go to your room. You don't need to learn everything so early."
"Then he locked me in his bedroom and didn't let me go until the morning. By then the police had come and removed her body. Those imbeciles decided it was suicide and ended the investigation just like that.
I could have told them that it was a murder but I didn't. My mother's death stunned me so much that I couldn't speak for the next few months and the asshole used it to his advantage. He acted like the best father and husband in front of the police but then came and took out all his anger and frustration on me."
He finally pauses to take a look at you and your face must have been an open book because he chuckles, "Why do you look so pale already? I haven't even gotten to the best part yet."
You want to tell him that you look pale not because of the story but because you feel sad for the fucked up man sitting next to you and his fucked up childhood. Even though he has yet to reveal how his father died you have already convinced yourself that he deserved it.
"A year went by like that." Wonwoo continues. "My mother was gone and I was the new punching bag for the asshole. He'd beat me up almost every day but he wasn't that dumb. He would never hit me in the face because I went to school and people could ask questions. I endured it all, in fact, I might have even started to crave it. I started to think I deserved it and so I took it...until one afternoon. I had just gotten home from school. He was sitting in the living room, drinking and watching TV. He seemed to be in an okay mood so I showed him my report card and asked him to sign it so that I could submit it the next day. He was quiet for a while until he saw my marks in English.
He took a bottle of booze and poured it all over my report card, saying a loser like me is better off without one. Something snapped inside of me and I yelled at him. So he broke that bottle on my head and stuffed that wet report card into my mouth and started beating me up.
After he was done he told me to get him a glass of water and go out to buy more beer for him. There was a nearby store that knew us and let me purchase alcohol. At that moment I made a split-second decision. I went to the kitchen, grabbed some rat poison and mixed it in his water before giving it to him. When he passed out I went back into the kitchen and pulled out the gas pipe and turned the knob open, letting it leak all over. I then lit a match and watched as the entire house caught on fire in seconds. I got burned too, as you can tell from the scars you saw last night. I ran out and sat on the other side of the road, just watching the fire spread. The thought of him burning alive in there brought me so much pleasure that I forgot my own pain.
It was right after noon and we lived in a relatively deserted area so it took a while for people to find out and call the police. They never suspected me because why would a twelve year old set his house on fire? The neighbors also testified that the asshole was an alcoholic so the police concluded it as another accident."
He concludes with a loud exhale. Turning his head to face you, he smirks wryly, "And that's how I successfully got away with my first murder."
You are left with a loss of words so you just give him a shaky nod and stare down at your legs, trying to process everything.
A few beats of silence seem to pass before Wonwoo reaches for your chin and uses it to tilt your face up. He smirks, "Scared of me now, aren't you?"
You sigh, gently removing your chin from his grip. "No, Wonwoo, I'm not. You did what you had to survive. It's admirable how you held on for so long."
For the first time, you see an emotion vividly on his face; shock. His eyes widen and his lips part to a little 'o' as he gapes at you, stunned. His reaction evokes some sort of longing within yourself as you reach for his hand and hold it between yours. "I am not scared of you because there is nothing to be. You were a little boy and you had gone through so much. It's fucked up but you did it to survive and you've come so far-"
"I don't want your pity and I don't want you to psychoanalyze me." He hisses, cutting you off as he yanks his hand away from your grip. You can see the fierce anger in his gaze so you shake your head.
"I am not pitying you and neither am I psychoanalyzing you. Trust me, I am in no position to do that. Especially because I believe that that man was an absolute piece of garbage and he deserved what you have done to him, if not worse. I would have done the same, Wonwoo, long ago. You held on for so long. That makes you a survivor, not a bad guy."
Your words seem to sink into him as he remains quiet, watching you with careful yet wondrous eyes. You sigh, realizing that he probably isn't believing you so you decide to give him, and yourself, some space.
Just as you stand up, he yanks you down by your hand, making you fall awkwardly onto his lap. Then, before your brain can catch up, he kisses you, rough and fast.
His lips smash with yours as he holds a strong grip on your neck, angling your face to his advantage. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, colliding with yours as your body goes lax and you give into him. It's like an aphrodisiac— his kiss, his touch, that makes you lose your guard as you fall deeper and deeper into an abyss.
When he pulls back, you are both panting heavily for air. "Do you realize what you just said?" He grunts, those fox-like eyes staring at you making your toes curl and your insides swirl. In a daze, you hum, "Hmm?"
"You'd make a great accomplice for a murder, no?" He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip while you keep staring at his lips. All coherent thoughts and senses have left your body long ago as you find yourself swimming in the sweetest poison that is Wonwoo.
"More." You breathe.
He smirks, that evil, confident smirk of his that makes your panties wet. Once again, he starts moving before you can process anything, dragging you behind him and straight to one of the storage rooms in a nearby building. You follow him blindly and as soon as the door is locked, he pins you against the wall and between himself, effectively trapping you. Yet, there is nowhere you want to escape to.
"You are an enigma, you know that, little cherry?" He whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hands work on unbuttoning your top. He quickly takes it off along with your bra before taking a step back and yanking your skirt down. The zipper on the waist lets out a groan of protest that falls onto your deaf ears as you remain too busy ogling the ungodly hot man in front of you.
"Take me out."
Your body is on autopilot as you immediately undo his belt and pull down the zipper.
"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. Wrap your legs around me." He commands as one of his hands holds you below your thigh while the other positions himself on your entrance.
And before you can blink, he's inside you. The initial stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud gasp of pain but it's quick to dull. One of his hands covers your mouth, his dark eyes indicating you to remain silent while he starts to move in and out of you.
Oh boy, is it hard to remain silent.
Especially, when you can feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.
"Gosh, you're such a slut, letting me fuck you against a wall, in a store room." Wonwoo grits, a twisted smirk on his lips as his gaze roams over your face leisurely. "What if someone comes in right now, huh? What if they see you bouncing your pretty ass on my cock?"
"Mmph," you try to moan, the image sending short circuits to your brain. Wonwoo chuckles, loving your reaction. "You'd like that, won't you? You're one filthy little slut, my cherry." He grins after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl.
"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, touch me."
The man only smiles, a cruel, mocking smile as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall behind you before thrusting once, twice, so hard that your back starts aching. Though you can't bring yourself to complain because the next moment his release is filling you up, making you moan unceremoniously.
When you think he's now gonna help you get off, the man only releases you and starts fixing himself up leaving you panting against the wall awkwardly, with the worst ache between your legs.
"W-what about me?" You croak.
"Sluts don't get to come so easily." Wonwoo smirks, throwing a look your way before walking out of the storeroom. You slide down the wall, absolutely livid, the urge to punch something growing very intense.
Something like his face.
That goddamn infuriating man!
Maybe you should just get yourself off.
"And don't think about touching yourself without me. I'll know if you do and trust me, you don't wanna make me mad." His head pops back in as he opens the door to warn you before disappearing once again.
"Fuck!" You're screaming now. "Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo!"
XIV.
Over time, you start to grow close to Wonwoo. Definitely closer than you'd expect to be with a person like him. It also doesn't help that you have a silly little crush on him and every little thing he does makes your heart flutter. Like the way he'd always put the helmet on you carefully before riding on his bike, brush your hair away from your face with soft fingers, and pull you closer to his body when you walk down a busy sidewalk.
Jeon Wonwoo was in no way boyfriend material but his little gestures, which he probably did thoughtlessly made you think he was the perfect man for you.
While things were going breezy with Wonwoo, a new problem seems to have appeared. Jacob Lee, a classmate of yours has been on your tail nonstop for the past few days, acting all friendly and touchy with you when in reality you've never spoken to him before, only seen him around the campus.
And speaking of the devil, he appears, just as you are finishing up your study session in the library one afternoon.
"_____!" His voice makes you sigh exasperatedly. "Hey! I was looking for you!"
You give him a fake smile and instead focus on packing your stuff, knowing Wonwoo will be here soon. He has asked you to stay overnight at his place for a class project but you doubt how much you'll be working on that project.
The thought of his hands all over you makes you embarrassingly excited.
"I sent you a friend request last night, didn't you see?"
Yes, and I'm not interested. You give me the creeps.
Which was the truth. You have heard a few rumors about Jacob, not good things for sure and the way he approaches you, invading your personal space like a bulldozer certainly makes you wary of him.
"Ah really? I'm not quite active these days. Projects and all, you know?" You try to avoid eye contact with him as he takes the seat right next to you, leaning much too close for your liking. "And...I don't really accept requests unless they're my close friends."
"Heyyy," he nudges your arm, a huge grin on his face. "How can we become close friends unless you accept my request?"
Oh god.
You sigh, internally rolling your eyes as you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You know, I'm in a hurry, actually. Wonwoo is waiting for me-"
"Is he your boyfriend?"
"What?" You blink, albeit stunned.
"Are you dating Wonwoo?" He asks, his tone sharp, as he stands up and steps closer to you, brows knotted in a frown.
Seriously, what is up with this guy?
"Why do you ask?" You question instead.
He rolls his eyes. Instead of answering you, he speaks, "He's a boring dude. If you really need a man you should let me—"
"Yes, she's dating me." Wonwoo interrupts all of a sudden. You spin around to find him standing behind you, a very annoyed look on his face as he glowers at Jacob. If looks could kill he'd be dead by now.
His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you next to his body and you can't help but swoon a little as you melt in his embrace. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sigh giddily.
The comfort and safety his arms provide are astounding.
"It doesn't really matter if you say I'm boring because she seems to find me interesting enough," Wonwoo says, his tone challenging, dark eyes focused on Jacob whose face now appears grim.
"Since we have established that she's mine," he emphasizes his words by tugging you even closer, "You should keep your hands to yourself and mind your business, hmm? Being nosy can get you hurt, you know."
Jacob's lips are pressed into a thin line as he glares at Wonwoo who ignores him and turns around, tugging you with him as you both walk out of the library.
As soon as you are outside, you step out of his arms and raise a brow at the man. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"That? You were like...staking your claim or something."
"I was. You're mine." He says simply.
Heat blooms throughout your face. Butterflies run wild in your stomach.
Damn.
"Whatever," you try to play it cool by rolling your eyes and pushing past him. Wonwoo, however, grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms and whispers in your ear.
"You don't seem to agree, little cherry. Let's go home so that I can show just how much you are mine." His knuckles trail over your jaw, then down your neck before grabbing it, a predatory glint in his eyes.
You can't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on your face as you scream on the inside.
XV.
"Hey, I'm really sorry about the last day." A voice says from behind you and you turn around to find Jacob standing rather awkwardly.
You are going through your notes in the library when you are interrupted.
Raising a brow of confusion, you blink at him.
Jacob scratches his head. "Uh...I overstepped that day, you know. You're obviously a couple and I was trying to overstep my boundaries. I'm really sorry about that."
Well, that's a development.
"It's alright." You give him a small smile. "And thank you for apologizing."
"It's all good if you've accepted my apology." He smiles. "Also, I was hoping you could do me a favor?"
"Sure?" You say, not quite sure.
"You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with the latest assignment. Could you help me with that, please? Just take a look at my draft?" He chuckles nervously, as if ashamed. "After all, the professor did say that you had the best research paper among all of us."
Ah.
"Yeah, sure I can help you with that."
"Great! Thanks a lot, ____. Could you perhaps come with me to my car? My notes are in there. Just take a quick look and I'll let you be on your way."
You nod as you pack your belongings and follow him to the parking lot behind the library. Once you two are in front of your car, Jacob holds the door open for you, motioning you to get inside. You raise a confused brow at him.
There is a shift in him as he suddenly produces a knife from his pocket and holds it against your stomach. He grits in your ear, "Now be a good girl and get in the car, ______. Try to do anything to attract any attention and ill fucking gut you."
"Jacob, please-''
"Get in the fucking car, _____. And lock the door once you are inside."
Shaking, you do as you are told and watch him get inside the driver's seat.
"Why are you doing this?" You whisper.
"Why do you think, cherry?" He spits. His words dump a bucket of ice cold water all over you as you come to the realization.
He knows. He fucking knows. He knows your secret.
"That's right, _____." The smirk on his face is cruel. "I randomly came across your channel one night. Of course, I didn't know it was you at first. But after a little bit of observing and putting things together, it wasn't hard to figure you out. And my suspicions were fully confirmed when your nerd of a boyfriend found your identity and started blackmailing you."
Oh my god.
A small, devastated gasp leaves your lips, making Jacob laugh. "Yeah. I saw you two that evening. I know everything, little cherry. All your dirty little secrets. But what I hate is that you let him have you, calling that dumb guy your boyfriend and whatnot, but you won't give me a chance? That's not fair, baby."
"You fucking stalker! You son of a-"
"Shut up!" He booms, holding the knife right in front of your eye. "You're going to shut the fuck up and let me have all the fun tonight, hmm? You're a slut, _____. Reading filthy things, showing yourself off on the internet and now you're acting like a prude in front of me? I can't tolerate that baby, I need a taste of you."
Oh god. You're going to throw up.
In a moment's decision, you try to attack him, reaching for his face and poking him in the eye while scratching his cheek. A struggle ensues while you try to writhe and kick out of his grasp but he's stronger, effectively holding you.
"Just go to sleep, little bitch. I'll take good care of you." He snickers, making your heart drop.
Oh no no no...
He smacks you in the back of the head twice with the butt of his knife, making your vision go blurry and your head spin. Your last thought is that you are doomed now.
XVI.
The back of your head is throbbing when you wake up. It takes a good few moments to get your brain and eyes to function and when you are somewhat coherent, you realize your wrists are tied together behind you, as you remain in a half laid position. Your whole body feels sore and taut as if you've been thrown around roughly.
"Finally, you're awake baby." The dreadful voice speaks. You tilt your head, despite the pain, to look at Jacob who is looming over you, smiling, a sick kind of excitement dancing in his eyes.
Your throat which was already parched, goes even drier.
"You're fucking sick." You croak, a jolt of pain going through your ribs as you try to move your body.
A slap lands on your cheek from nowhere, forcing you to fall on your side as you whine in pain.
"I told you to shut the fuck up!" He's yelling. "Do you know how hard it was to carry your body all the way here? I had to put you in the trunk, for fucks sake!" He complains, making you roll your eyes. "It would all have been fine if you'd just shut up and complied with me!"
He then grabs you by your hair, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. "I had to wait for the last hour for you to gain consciousness, baby. Despite my thoughts, I just couldn't get hard when you were lying still."
He says those words with a mock pout as if that's the most unfortunate thing in the world and your blood boils. "Fuck you, dickhead. I doubt your thing gets hard at all."
That earns you another slap, and another, followed by a lot of screaming and cursing from him.
You tune them out, trying to conjure a way out of this hell. The first person you think of is Wonwoo and your heart starts to ache. His classes should be done by now. Is he looking for you? Is he worried? Given his possessiveness, he definitely should be looking for you by now.
You only wish you had your phone somewhere nearby.
You look around the place, trying to spot anything that may distract this sicko and aid you with your escape. Unfortunately, this feels like an abandoned building and the only thing lying around are pieces of wood, splinters and a few metal rods. Which would serve as a good weapon, only if your hands were untied.
An idea forms in your head.
"I need to pee." You grunt, making Jacob raise a brow.
"Well then, do it." He shrugs before smiling. "You'll need to take your pants off anyway for what I'm about to do to you. Want me to help you with them, baby?"
So that definitely backfired.
Jacob approaches you, hands reaching for the button on your jeans as you writhe in protest, trying to crawl away from him. Your sore ribs protest heavily but you struggle against his grip, which only tightens the harder you protest.
You are so fucked.
"The more you fight, the harder I get, baby." He snickers in your ears, making you want to throw up.
Jacob manages to unbutton your jeans and as he is pulling down your zipper, you land a kick on his shin, making him fall on his ass with a grunt. His eyes flash dangerously at you.
"Maybe I should tie your legs too, huh? Just let me take these jeans off."
"Get your hands off of her. Right. Now." There's a sudden voice.
You both turn your head to find Wonwoo, to your utter relief, standing there, a menacing look on his face as his eyes bore into Jacob.
"Let her go." His voice is quiet.
To others, it may sound flat but you know Wonwoo and you know the look in his eyes very well. A shiver rolls down your spine and you try once again to loosen the ropes tying your wrists. If you aren't free soon, things are gonna get messy.
"The big bad boyfriend is here to save the day, no?" Jacob scoffs, swaying the knife around in his hand. "Whatcha gonna do, boyfriend?"
"You wouldn't wanna know." Wonwoo gives him a cold smile that gives even you, goosebumps. You try to mediate the situation. "Jacob, please, listen to me. This doesn't have to be like this. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened."
"Shut up, you whore! I'm getting a taste of you today and I don't care whether it's next to your boyfriend's rotting corpse!" He screeches, pointing the knife at you.
Mentally, you shake your head.
This really isn't gonna end well.
A grunt echo through the air and it takes a few seconds for your fuzzy brain to realize that Wonwoo has punched Jacob. The latter tumbles onto the floor, groaning loudly, "You fucking asshole! You broke my nose!"
Wonwoo's face remains blank as he repeatedly keeps kicking Jacob's torso, not even letting him get up. When he's gasping for air, he steps back to take a good look at him before walking to the side and picking up a metal rod.
In the meantime, Jacob manages to stand up on wobbly legs and his eyes widen when he sees Wonwoo pick up the weapon. "You fucking psychopath. You really wanna die today, huh?" He scoffs before charging toward Wonwoo, the knife in his hand aiming for his face. Wonwoo dodges it by leaning back and just as Jacob is passing by him, he grabs his other arm, twisting it roughly before clutching the hand holding the knife.
Jacob yells in pain but doesn't back down and there is a struggle as they both try to overpower each other. Amidst that, the knife in Jacob's hand manages to cut a thin line on Wonwoo's cheek, making him release Jacob and take a few steps back.
Jacob chuckles, his smile looking exceptionally evil as blood runs down his nose and coats his teeth. "I'm gonna have so much fun carving up your pretty face, nerd."
Wonwoo watches him with calculative eyes, a wry, slight smirk on his face as he tilts his head on both sides, popping the veins in his neck.
You watch with bated breath, knowing it's gonna get ugly and it does as Wonwoo charges for Jacob, hitting his head in the first strike with the metal bar. Jacob falls to his knees, cupping the side of his head as a gush of blood flows out. Before he can stand back up, Wonwoo hits him again and again and again, three more times on his head before his body slumps onto the ground, passed out.
But that doesn't make Wonwoo stop as he continues with two more hits and you start yelling. "Wonwoo, stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"
He stops and his eyes meet yours. They are absolutely cold and empty, laced with an expression of that's-what-I-was-about-to-do and for a moment you think that he's gonna kill him right in front of you but he doesn't.
Surprising you, he drops the bar on the ground with a loud echo before calmly walking towards you and kneeling down to untie your wrists. You pant heavily, relieved and grateful as your eyes become teary when one of his hand cups your cheek tenderly, his eyes trained on the cut on your lips and the bruise on your cheek.
And to think that this man was being so violent seconds ago.
"Does it hurt badly?" He asks, eyes narrowing on your bruises. You immediately shake your head, not trusting your voice to speak.
You croak, "How did you find me?"
He scoffs. "Little cherry, you should have figured out by now how possessive I am of you." He tilts his head, giving you an isn't-that-obvious look. Yet, you're confused.
"You...you didn't actually put a—"
"Exactly," he smiles, almost proud. "I downloaded a tracker on your phone."
Holy shit. There's a lot to unpack but for now, you are totally grateful. So you just nod and clutch his arms tightly.
Your heart thumps loudly as the man wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you to stand up. The bruises on your body make it hard to do so but you manage with his help and gently he guides you out of the warehouse, picking up your scattered items lying in a corner and putting them in your bag before moving past Jacob's still body.
You turn your head back to observe if he's breathing and you notice the slow rise and fall of his chest, making you sigh in relief.
Wonwoo walks you both out of the compound before coming to a stop underneath a large banyan tree, right where he parked his bike.
"Call a taxi." He says as he hands you your bag. "Go to a hospital. I'll be there soon."
Your heart falls.
"W-what? W-where are you going?" You croak, hands immediately clutching the sleeves of his jacket. His hands gently hold you by the arm, a stark contrast to the look on his face, malicious, ruthless. "You don't leave loose ends, baby."
You almost choke on your saliva.
"Wha-what? No! You-"
His lips press against yours, effectively silencing you. One of his hand cups your cheek while the other laces around your waist, pulling your body next to his. Blindly you follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongue intertwines with his into a passionate kiss. It tastes like temptation, lust and a little bit metallic— from the blood on your lips and even though in the back of your mind you know how wrong this is, it feels like the most right thing of all time.
A while later Wonwoo pulls back as the haze of lust disappears from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.
"Do as you're told, ____. This isn't a request."
It isn't. It's a command.
Yet, as he turns around to head back into the warehouse, you cannot bring yourself to call a taxi. But you also cannot muster up to follow him back inside and watch him finish the job.
Blissful ignorance, as they like to call it.
Besides, there is no crime if there is no witness.
You try to tell yourself that you're staying in case Jacob manages to run away or worse, hurt Wonwoo or in case somebody comes around here.
So you make yourself comfortable underneath the tree and take a seat, even though your sore body protests in pain.
Seconds turn to minutes as they fly by and just like that half an hour is gone. The sky is now overcast with thick clouds, indicating an impending downpour that makes you worry.
There is no sign of Wonwoo yet.
When the first few drops of rain hit the ground, you manage to get yourself up after a little struggle and despite your ribs protesting, you start to take small steps towards the building.
Something must have gone wrong.
But you don't have to go too far because you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end and you realize it's Wonwoo. Your breath stutters as you stay still in your spot, waiting for him to take notice of you and come to you. He seems to be walking while in deep thought as his focus remains on the ground so you call for him.
"Wonwoo!"
His head snaps up as he regards you with wide eyes, standing still for a moment. Then he's running towards you, stepping on little puddles along the way.
"What are you still doing here!" His tone is sharp but you ignore it. Instead, your eyes scan his body for any injuries. He seems to appear fine— disheveled really, but still fine. There is a new cut on his forehead and there are specks of blood all over his face, neck and hands, especially his hands which are completely wet and coated in crimson.
You highly doubt it's his own blood. Still, your hands reach out for him and you find yourself asking, "Are you okay?"
Wonwoo glares at you. "You should have gone to a hospital by now, ____. You're hurt." You shake your head and instead cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the little specks of blood that are yet to wash away despite the pouring rain.
His eyes visibly soften as he sighs and shrugs off his jacket and puts it over your shoulders.
"You're gonna catch a cold." He whispers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body next to him.
"J-Jacob?" You whisper.
His eyes go empty for a few seconds before he gives you a small, evil smile, "I took care of him."
Your heart falls and you swallow, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.
"B-but the body-"
"Lot of wolves in that forest.'' He says, indicating the woods right behind the building. ''They'll finish the body."
He smirks, giving you a look. "I believe Jacob came here drunk and passed out and the wolves took him." He pins you down with a look that makes you shudder.
You're now an accomplice to murder.
Gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, he tilts your head up. "Hey. Nobody will know...unless you tell them."
That's right. Nobody will know.
With a jerky nod, your eyes meet his and even though your limbs are sore, you lean on your tippy toes and pull his lips onto yours by cupping his cheeks. His lips taste like rain and blood, full of danger but oh so tempting. Your tongues dance in a haze of fiery lust and passion and by the time you two separate, you're a little dizzy.
You should really get to the hospital.
"I won't tell anyone," you whisper, stroking the nape of his neck.
"Because I have nothing to tell. Jacob got eaten by the wolves. It was just an accident, after all." You state, surprised at how calm you are.
A grin spreads across Wonwoo's face, evil, satisfied and proud. You can't also help but smile a little as he captures your lips for a quick kiss before murmuring, "You're perfect, you know that little cherry?"
You swoon. "Maybe you can remind me when we are home. After taking a trip to the hospital, of course."
"Let's go." He holds out his hand and you take it as you both walk to his bike. Blood still stains his fingertips but you don't care as they transfer on your hands too. Instead, you let him slowly guide you away from the building, from that sick asshole who isn't breathing anymore, thankfully.
When you look down your hands entangled with his, a sense of odd comfort settles over you.
Sure, this man is completely unhinged and dangerous but he's also perfect.
Perfect for you.
You're both a little unhinged and that's fine.
What matters is that you are safe now. With him.
Smiling in contentment, you bring your intertwined hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his bruised knuckles.
You are bloody, yet safe.
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a/n: and hence, I chose the name Bloodily Safe! I know it isn't that good but istg I couldn't think of anything else😭. this is, undoubtedly, the darkest fic I've written yet and somewhere in the middle I started questioning whether it'd be a good idea to release this. but the urge to share psycho Wonwoo with y'all won in the end lol. I blame pledis for this, we need an actor Wonwoo in a villain role immediately!!! I've left it as an open ending so I'm here to announce that yes, I am planning on writing another part of this, something like an extended epilogue where we focus more on Wonwoo. their feelings for each other also remain vague here and I've kept it so purposefully. it's up to each of your own interpretation. if you'd like to hear mine, do send an ask. I'm all ready to analyze and discuss our fav psycho wonwoo. also, I've yet to proofread this thoroughly so there might be some errors. that's it from me for now, thank you for taking the time to read this! have a lovely day!
taglist: @exocommunicado-03 @becauseiloveyunho @seyoungparkk @shuabby1994 @reol-0 @therewillalwaysbearainbow @sdoulc @nadiaarzu @dinosolecito @sweetiepiezz @vernonmabae @jejuboo-s @fairy-jojo @babystarcandykookie @kawaiimusiccollection @read2lips @yunhokami @knife-scream @just-here-to-read-01 @unwanted-15 @bldelaine @sysymei @joonsytip @freakinthesheesh @moonfloweronmars @simpinghrs @unicxrnblood @manamiyx @tara-drabbles
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hs-is-loml · 1 year
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The Way I Love You. (x.t)
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Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Best Friend!Reader
Summary: xavier and you are weird pair of "best friends" always reaching towards something more, but neither having the guts to talk about it so plainly, until now.
Warnings: best friends to lovers trope, enid and yoko being done with both of you, major fluff, doesn't follow exact storyline or timeline
a/n: exams in a couple days are destroying me, so this is probably the only thing i'll post for the next week sadly:(
masterlist
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“Hey, babe? Are you almost done? If not I’m heading to breakfast without you,” Xavier yelled through the door as you stumbled to finish getting ready. 
“I won’t be done in time, I’ll meet you in the quad,” you shouted back realizing how late you were actually running. “Can you get me juice please!”
“Okay, I’ll see you down there,” he replied back.
Enid just stared at you with the widest eyes and a dropped jaw. You turned away from her gaze as it freaked you out a bit. “HE CALLED YOU BABE?!” 
“Huh?”
“I think Enid is referring to the fact you and Xavier are repulsive,” Wednesday explained. 
“I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU GUYS AREN’T DATING?!” Enid kept yelling rushing over to you and helping get your bag so you three could leave the dorm soon. “YOU CAN’T KEEP HIM WAITING!!”
“Enid! Slow down!” she threw your blazer in your arms and pushed you out of the dorm as Wednesday followed beside both of you. “What are you even going on about?”
“Xavier.”
“Yeah, what about him?” you asked confused not understanding why she was making such a big deal over something.
“I can’t believe you two are dating!” Enid cheered excitedly as you walked down the halls.
“Enid, wait for a second,” you halted in your tracks and took a second to comprehend the girl’s words. “We’re not dating.”
“What,” Enid said dishearteningly. “I thought since he called you-”
“You thought wrong, we’re just best friends,” you cut her off as you three made the quad.
“I did not know best friends had pet names for each other,” Wednesday stated. "Odd."
“Because they’re in love with each other and won’t admit it,” Enid whined while you look around for Xavier.
You felt an arm drape around your shoulders and saw a hand holding out a bottle of orange juice in front of you, in which taking it happily and opening it to take a sip. “Won’t admit what?” 
“Nothing!” you choked out, glaring at Enid hoping she would get the hint to stop. 
“Just that-” She didn’t.
“Enid, let’s head to class, I rather pick out my eyes than watch this,” Wednesday said to Enid.
“Oh, okay, umm… Bye, Y/n! Bye, Xavier?” Enid called out as she trailed behind Wednesday as they headed to Ms. Thornhill’s class. 
“Bye, Enid,” you both tell her.
“What was she going on about?” Xavier asked while you both headed to fencing. 
“Just the usual things Enid loves to talk about,” you replied. “Gossip.”
“Of course,” he puffed out a laugh. “Who’s the poor souls?”
“Just a pair of friends that she thinks are dating,” you tried to say inconspicuously when you made it the locker rooms. 
“Enid has pretty good intuition with that kind of stuff, I wonder if they are?”
“Trust me, they’re not,” you gave him a small smile. “Wait for me?”
“Always.”
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You walked out of locker rooms tying your hair out of your face, and saw Xavier waiting to the side with his mask already on. He held his own foil (sword) in one hand while the other held an extra foil and mask. 
“M’lady,” he teasingly bowed handing you them as you approached him.
“Why, thank you, kind Sir,” you curtsied back letting out a small giggle.
“You’re paired with Yoko, this morning,” he told you making your way to the mats.
“Maybe if you whined less and praticed more, you wouldn’t suck,” you heard Bianca mocked Rowan as you and Xavier got closer to the class. “Seriously, Coach, when am I gonna get real competition? Anyone else want to challenge me?”
“I will,” you stated removing yourself from Xavier’s side and slid the mask over your face. 
“Are you sure? I don’t think Xavier would want his sweet Y/n to get hurt,” she gave you pout which only encouraged you more to beat her. 
“You sure do talk so much shit,” you replied to her and heard ‘ooh’s…’ around the room. “It kind of match’s your skill, don't you think?” 
“Rowan doesn’t need you to come to his defense. He’s not helpless,” Bianca snarked. “He’s just lazy.”
“Are we going to do this or not? Or are you too scared?” getting yourself in a stance ready to go against her.
“Fine.”
“En garde!” someone called out.
Swords clashed and Bianca made the mistake of lifting her arm too high in an attempt to strike you, so you lowered yourself avoiding her sword while you were able to strike her side.
“Point to Y/n!” 
You both continued to duel, as the crowd around you guys grew. Bianca wasn’t able to tag you yet as you picked up the speed of your hits against her. So much anger at her for how she treated everyone at the school, and how she believed that she was automatically better than everyone else. The force of your strikes against her caught her off guard and her sword swayed to the left allowing you to tag her directly in her chest. 
“That’s my girl!” you heard Xavier call out from the sidelines and you were thankful you had the mask still on so no one would be able to see the blush on your cheeks.
“Winner, Y/n,” the coach announced and Bianca stalked off in anger.
You walked over to Xavier, and took off your mask in a swift motion as you noticed some time during the match against Bianca he had taken his off to see you better. He held out his arms for you and brought you in a tight hug. “I’m proud of you,” he murmured into your hair as you leaned your head against his chest.
“Thank you, Xav,” you lifted your head to give him a smile which returned his wide one. You stood on your tip toes, pecking his cheek and stood back allowing you to see the blush that spread across his face. “I’ll see you after!” you told him as Yoko called you over from the other side of the room. 
“Wait-“ Xavier was too late to respond as you hurriedly rushed to Yoko who seemed like she was going to burst from the questions she had for you. 
“WHAT WAS THAT?!” Yoko yelled which caught the attention of many of those around you including Xavier who was still staring at you from across the room. 
“Yoko, shh! I don’t know what you’re talking about…” you shushed the girl. 
“Don’t know,” she mockingly laughed, “He called you his girl!” she pointed out. 
“SHHHH!” you held a hand over her mouth in order to stop her from saying anything else. “NOT ANOTHER WORD.”
“Babe, you okay?” Xavier asked loudly from where he stood and a part of you was silently cursing him while the other part blushed profusely.
“Just peachy,” you uttered, glaring at Yoko who was dying of laughter at the hypocrisy of you two. You dragged her away to a more closed-off area to allow her to question you, but the bell saved you from the interrogation. 
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“Okay, that’s now Enid and Yoko acting weird around you. That only ever means one thing…” Xavier pointed out once you both were walking to his dorm for lunch after attending fencing and botany. 
Let’s just say Botany might have been even more irritating than fencing because you had Bianca staring at you the whole time after she saw you and Xavier walk into class together. The only problem with you and him walking in together was that he had his arm around your waist keeping you steady as you died of laughter over hearing Ajax complaining that he stoned himself the other day which led him to miss his date with Enid. You felt bad for laughing, but Ajax resembled a kicked puppy too much not to.
“One thing what?”
“There’s a guy,” he scoffed.
“Where?” you looked around to see no one around you both, so you gave a look of confusion not really understanding what he was insinuating. 
“Are you talking to somebody?” Xavier questioned. “Enid and Yoko only ever get that giddy if they’re talking about a guy, and if you are I don’t know why you didn’t feel the need to tell. Y/n, we’re— w-we’re… you know.”
“Xavier!” you tried to interrupt, but he ignored you as he continued to talk.
“I thought you felt the same way, but obviously not since you felt like you hide the fact you’re with someone right now. I just wish you told me before Enid and Yoko,” he rambled on looking down at the floor with a scrunched expression covering his face. 
“XAVIER!” you exclaimed.
“What?’ he softened looking back to you. 
“I’m talking to you aren’t I?” you tried to hint at him.
“Well, obviously you’re talking to me right now but I meant-”
“Xav, I am talking to you,” you restated once more. “No one else.”
“But-” you knew he was going to argue with what you were saying but you weren’t going to allow it.
“Enid and Yoko were talking about us,” you explained nonchalantly letting yourself into his dorm with him following behind you, shutting the door. 
“Wait what?” he took a step back allowing himself to process what you said. “What do you mean they were talking about us?”
“They were teasing about how we are with each other.” you looked down on your hand as you turned to face him.
“And how are we with each other?” he retorted back in question, walking closer to you.
“We both won’t admit it…” you trailed off as you felt heat rush to your cheeks as you tried to avoid his gaze. “But-”
“Admit what? That fact I’ve been in love with you since we met,” he noted. “I have loved you since I saw you wandering around the halls looking for your class, I love you every day when we meet in the morning to walk to class together, I love when you scrunch your nose when you're overthinking, I love the sound of your laugh when I tell a stupid joke that’s not even worth your laughter, I love that you hold my hand when you're anxious, I love you more than anything,” he confessed to you which brought you close to tears as you went to close the space between you and him.
You grabbed the collar of his uniform to help bring him down closer to your height and smash your lips against his, moving your hands to have one the back of his neck and the other on his cheek. He immediately responded to the kiss with the same amount of urgency. His hands landed onto your hips pulling you even more closer to him. 
It was a messy kiss but seemed perfect for you and him. Both of you pulled back to take in a breath of air, leaning your foreheads against one another. “I love you. I will never love someone the way I love you,” you whispered to him seeing a smile spread across his face as he went to pull you back in for another kiss.
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uravitsy · 3 months
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‘YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL’ SATORU GOJO
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ACT ONE.
summary. gojo visits your grave once a year, reflecting on the limited time he had with you while going through the stages of grief. ☆
warnings. angst, sad!gojo, fem!reader! gojo x you, grief, established relationship, some smut if you squint, bittersweet ending
a/n. this is a short story i wrote over the summer, i wanted to dabble into the idea of gojo not being able to fully process his grief without the help of his students. it is a bit sad though.
ACT TWO : ̗̀➛ ACT THREE : ̗̀➛ FINALE
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𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪
"Does Gojo-sensei seem…different today?" Itadori asked absentmindedly, leaning back in his chair while balancing a pencil on his nose. He was doing everything else but the work he was supposed to finish before class ended. His two close friends, Megumi and Nobara, spared him a quick glance, as if debating whether to answer his ridiculous question.
"When is that nutjob ever okay?" Nobara bounced back another question, making Itadori stop balancing himself on his chair to think for once. The pencil he had on his face clattered onto the ground. "If anything, he's more extra than he was yesterday."
"Exactly," Itadori frowned, the invisible lightbulb above his head continuing to flicker as he thought long and hard about what Gojo could be upset about. He knew it was a stretch, and he himself wasn't too good at reading emotions, but he was sure something was off—from the way Gojo's smile seemed wider to the way his laughs went on for a second too long. "What do you think, Megumi?"
The black-haired boy stopped moving his pencil across the paper. His face remained stoic as the two beside him turned to look in his direction, anticipating an answer from him.
In short, Megumi did know why Gojo seemed off today, and it was all because of his vague memory of you.
He was a clueless child back then, but he felt it. He felt the love you and Gojo shared, something he had seen before between his own mother and father. It was strong, beautiful, like a song that only you and Gojo knew the lyrics to. It was a dance—a slow burn into the spotlight of a world you two created.
He admired it. He admired you and the person you helped Gojo become.
And though your memory was beautiful, it was also tragic. Megumi did mourn you since he remembered bits and pieces of you, but he was sure Gojo mourned you the most. Especially since today was the anniversary of your death. For as long as he's known Gojo, he knew that this one day out of the year was the time when he'd crack more jokes, tease him more, and laugh the loudest—all to mask his pain.
And he couldn't help but think it's because Gojo never properly grieved for you.
"He's the same as usual," Megumi lied. It wasn't their place to know, nor was it his. Everyone had their secrets and the stuff they keep to themselves. Who were they to pry into his business? "You guys should just drop it."
And with that, he went back to his assignment, ignoring the gawking stares from both of his friends.
"Well, now I'm even more curious," Itadori pouted, resting his chin on his hand as he looked out the window just in time to see Gojo's back as he skipped off campus. "He's literally leaving in the middle of the day!"
"Itadori—" Megumi started but got interrupted by his friends' loud voices.
"What?!" Nobara pushed Itadori away from the window so she could look. A sudden spark of curiosity consumed her as she cracked a mischievous grin. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"We should follow him!" they both said at the same time as they rushed out of the classroom with such speed they left papers flying behind them.
Megumi could only sigh. His peers were likely to get in trouble and drag him into their mess somehow. It never fails. He thought for a moment about how he would benefit from following them to make sure they didn't get caught leaving school grounds without a teacher, but he came up with nothing. He figured he should take his own advice and mind his own business, let those two knuckleheads do whatever they want and suffer the consequences for it.
They could potentially run into dangerous curses, dangerous people, or dangerous people controlling dangerous curses… and then suffer grave injuries. You know what? Maybe he should follow them from a distance.
Meanwhile, the door to the flower shop gave a soft ding as Gojo opened it. His tall frame took up the space in the small shop. Gojo ducked his head as he came in, careful not to knock over the potted plants that rested on the floor and shelves in no particular order. The air was stale with an earthy smell that was oddly comforting. It was good to know that the place remained the same after a year—the only thing that stayed the same in his chaotic life.
"Satoru!" an elderly woman looked up from her newspaper at the sound of the doorbell, thick circle glasses making her eyes appear large and almost fish-like. "Good to see you! How have you been?"
"Mrs. Yamada," Gojo bowed respectfully to the elder, to which the lady playfully pinched and pulled his cheeks. "Missed you too!"
"You silly boy, you know you can visit anytime and not just once a year, you know (Y/N) would've loved that, hm?" Mrs. Yamada made her way behind the counter, already grabbing and wrapping up a single flower. A flower that was your favorite, the same kind you'd always get whenever you would come into this small flower shop.
Gojo never understood why you didn't let him buy a whole bouquet of the flowers you loved. "Then I'd have to take care of all of them," you'd say, your laugh like a sweet melody in his ears that he constantly wanted to replay. "When it's just one, I feel like it lasts longer, you know? I seem to appreciate it more."
The memory made him frown slightly. If you allowed it, he would've bought the whole damn store for you, and you wouldn't just be stuck with a single flower. He didn't get it. He didn't get you. Even after all these years, he was still trying to figure you out.
"Ah, she used to come in every Sunday morning to say hello," Mrs. Yamada smiled warmly. "Always ready to hound me for something sweet to eat. (Y/N) had a nose like a hound and a stomach like a sumo wrestler." The brown wrapping paper crinkled against the elder's fingertips as she folded it around the flower. "Oh, how I miss her."
"Come now, Mrs. Yamada," Gojo leaned against the counter, tapping the wood with excitement. "She'd want us to smile, to celebrate her life, right?! Then that's exactly what we'll do."
"Satoru…"
Gojo waved his hands dismissively. "The usual price for the flowers, right?"
"Yes," Mrs. Yamada rang him up at the cash register before sliding the flower across the counter toward him. But before Gojo could grab it, she pulled it away. "I wanted to tell you before I closed up shop for the day, but… I will be retiring next month."
Gojo's smile fell then.
"I am getting too old, and ever since my husband's passing, I find it quite hard to manage this all on my own, no matter how much I love to do so," she patted the counter lightly, eyes glazed over in a daze as if recalling a memory. "I will be closing the shop and moving to America to stay with my daughter."
"Then are you going to sell the building?"
Gojo found himself asking before he could even think about what to say.
"I'll buy it."
Even in death, you were expensive. How was that possible? Gojo found himself using his savings to buy a whole flower shop that you weren't even here to see. But did that matter to him? Of course not. You were worth every penny—and the shop, to him, was nothing more than a shiny penny that he could buy for your sake. All because you loved it and would visit it often. Gojo couldn't let it close down; it was too valuable for the sake of the memories it held.
So now he owned a flower shop. What the hell was he going to do with a flower shop? He didn't know a damn thing about flowers.
"(Y/N)…" Gojo whispered your name as he pushed open the metal graveyard gate, the bolt making a loud creaking noise that echoed into the summer breeze.
It didn't take Gojo long to find your headstone. After all these years, he knew this cemetery like the back of his hand; at this point, it was like a second home to him. The only place where he could truly let the mask fall as he mourned for you.
In the years you've been gone, he had a long time to think—to wonder why you of all people had to be taken away from him. It made him question, curse, and cry to a higher power above if there was one. Would they be listening? Did they hear him? Did they understand the pain he was put through? And if everything was a part of the higher power's plan, then why was (Y/N) written in with such a tragic story? Why did her life become a song of such somber music?
It wasn't fair. And to Gojo, he would never make sense of it, no matter how hard he tried.
"Ah, it's a beautiful day, (Y/N)." Gojo smiled warmly at your headstone before sitting on the smooth tile, rummaging through his bag to pull out a rag so he could wipe the dust that was on top of your engraved name. "Though I bet you're complaining about how hot it is. I know, it is a little toasty, but a beautiful day nonetheless."
Wiping the concrete clean, Gojo made sure it was spotless with all the cleaning supplies he brought. He had to make up for the year he was away; that's why he always deep-cleaned your headstone since he knew he wouldn't be back until next year. He wanted you to watch the seasons go by with a pretty headstone, one that sparkled whenever the sun cast its rays on it.
"Hm?" Gojo tilted his head as if to hear your unspoken question again. "Oh! I'm doing good. Still teaching. You'd love these lot of kids, though. They have such great potential and are such a reckless bunch who enjoy escaping off campus to follow me here."
"Crap! He's onto us." Gojo heard Nobara's voice from the bushes behind him.
"Do you think he knows?" Itadori asked in his typically clueless fashion.
"He knows, dumbass." Megumi sighed before emerging from the bushes with twiddledee and twiddledumb trailing behind him. Their bantering stopped once they saw Gojo sitting by your headstone, the air suddenly becoming still as they made their way closer.
"Gojo-sensei, we can explain—!"
"Don't even," the white-haired man laughed before gesturing toward the headstone. "(Y/N), meet my students. Students, meet (Y/N)!"
"Ah! Nice to meet you!" Itadori bowed in respect, and so did Megumi.
"Why are we bowing to a dead—" Grabbing ahold of Nobara's hand, Itadori forcibly pulled her down so she could bow as well.
"Oh, you kids are in so much trouble," Gojo said with a gleeful smile. "I'm already thinking of all the ways to punish you."
"In my defense," Megumi started, "I tried to stop them."
"Yetttttt you're still here." Tilting his head, Gojo looked at his students playfully. "I hope you all enjoyed this field trip, but let's head back to campus, yeah? And get ice cream along the way!"
"Oh! Ice cream!" Itadori and Nobara spun around in a dance as they made their way toward the entrance of the cemetery, the pair just finding it best not to question who you were or what you were to Gojo. They could finally sense what Itadori was talking about that morning. He was different today, and it was clear he was sad. "La la la la la!"
"Let's go, Megumi. Do you still prefer chocolate?" Gojo turned to walk away but stopped in his tracks when he noticed Megumi staring at your grave with an expression he couldn't read. "Megumi?"
"Gojo-sensei…" His student turned to look at him. "I just want you to know that it's okay to be sad, to grieve for her."
Gojo chuckled, tucking his hand in his pocket as a breeze cut through the air, its chilled warmth wrapping around the pair. "Who's to say I don't? I grieve her every day."
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URAVITSY 2024
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